This Is Me

I love the industry that has allowed me to work and thrive over the last 10 years and feel grateful for every opportunity that I’ve been given, however, on further reflection I see that almost all of those opportunities have come to me because of the colour of my skin.

Every role that I have ever played has required either an “ethnically diverse” character or the precedent has been set in some previous version of that production, proving the audience would be “OK” to see a person that looks like me in the role.

I’ve spent the majority of my career unable to fully celebrate my wins, always wondering if I only got my place because I was needed to tick a box. Was I actually good or just good within a minority group? And was everyone else wondering the same thing? I have spent a long time trying to prove my worth, always hoping to be offered roles that don’t specify ethnicity, just to prove that I can get a job purely on talent.

Why have I felt that to be necessary?

I grew up thinking it was normal to not see anyone that looked like me on the T.V., in magazines, on posters, on stage. 

I thought that my skin was the wrong colour because there were no “skin colour” dance tights to match me at Bloch, no “skin colour” band-aids to cover my cuts. 

I thought it was OK for my legs to look white in the dance concert and for the rest of my body to be brown. 

I convinced myself that I didn’t REALLY need foundation because I couldn’t match my face to the bottle. 

I thought it was funny when people at cheerleading were told to tan so much that they were “as dark as Chloé”. 

It turns out those things are not OK. Alongside everyone else, I’ve realised that. Unfortunately, this realisation doesn’t change that I still struggle to find “skin colour/nude” tights, bras and underwear and it’s only in the last few years that I’ve found a foundation which truly matches my skin that I can buy in Australia.

I’ve had countless conversations in which people say something casually racist like “Oh you’ll definitely get that role because there’s no one else who can do it and they need coloured people” or that a white person “didn’t get that role because they went with ‘diverse’ casting”, or “they’ll be interested in you for that show because they need non-white people”. And more specifically:”you didn’t get an audition because there wouldn’t have been anyone that looked like you in Porpoise Spit.” Porpoise Spit, a fictional place set in Australia in 2018. And so on and so on… 

I’ve always brushed it off and politely agreed but equally felt the need to work harder to prove that I wasn’t just the girl who could play the token coloured girl. Historically, casting decisions are notoriously narrow minded when it comes to the way a character “should” look which is why people dye their hair different colours for roles, buy wigs or tan to look more suitable in the panel’s eyes.

I haven’t had that luxury, my skin colour won’t change.

Because I have worked for some time in the industry, I didn’t feel I was allowed to be angry about these injustices, however small, as I’ve had a good run and worked on a range of different projects. However, upon closer scrutiny of decisions I’ve made throughout my career I see that I have taken myself out of the running for roles knowing I wouldn’t seriously be considered based on the colour of my skin. I’ve rarely felt brave enough to put myself in the vulnerable position of trying to convince a panel that I can do a role that would usually be played by a Caucasian actor. I have kept myself in the little box that I’ve been put in to continue to live and work doing what I love. I recognise that it is also considered a privilege to be “exotic” or ethnically ambiguous but I often wonder if rather than questioning if I am brown enough, or black enough, or white enough, could I ever just be enough?

It has only dawned on me while writing this that it’s no a coincidence Miss Saigon has always been my favourite show. It was the only time I even vaguely saw myself represented onstage. Even though I didn’t see many people that looked like me when I came into the industry, I was lucky to have the opportunity to get a foot in the door when I was cast in Hairspray as a Dynamite because they needed a diverse cast…. What would have happened if that show didn’t come to Australia at that time? Would I have had the career I do now? Would there have been enough “ethnic” roles for me to fill? In an industry with few opportunities, there are even less for BIPoC performers and creatives. This is something we know for sure and this is something that needs to change now. 

Recently a few young women have said to me that they saw themselves represented when they saw me on stage and I realised how important it is to have representation and what it means to feel like you belong. To feel that there’s room for you. Without that, how is anyone meant to thrive in an already cut throat industry? If you can’t see it, you can’t be it and we all deserve to feel welcome. Why bother coming into an industry when it feels like you’re fighting a losing battle? Why would you spend the time and money training when people within the system refuse to acknowledge their own ingrained bias and look past your ethnicity OR celebrate your ethnicity?

I want to see our industry consciously casting roles that challenge the audiences’ perception of how things should look. I want to see a brown Sandy in “Grease” and an ethnically diverse Christine in Phantom. I want to see Australian musicals made that represent what Australia ACTUALLY looks like. I want to have the opportunity to audition for the lead role EVEN if there’s a sidekick friend that requires the actor to have dark skin. I want to see cast lists that look varied and inclusive. We shouldn’t be restricting our choices for the conservative “boomer" audience that like things the way they’ve always been. It is our responsibility in the cultural sector going forward to reassess our language around race and challenge the way we look at things within the industry to show an example to the rest of the nation of what is possible and what inclusivity looks like. 

Sometimes drastic measures need to be taken to shift from where we are to where we should be and I believe now is the time for that change.

I am hearing that a lot of allies are scared to say the wrong thing which is completely understandable but strength in numbers is what we are aiming for here. We want to be one unified voice, fighting for equality. It is time to tip the scales and fight for the change essential to our growth as an industry, as individuals and as a nation.

To any performers in the BIPoC community, please know I am here to talk and I am here to help. Reach out and let’s work together to bring you into this industry that I love because there IS a place for you (for all of us) and I hope collectively as a community we can make that feel like a reality. 

Love Chloé xx