Why Everyone Belongs in the Arts

Why We Must Continue to Intentionally Create Spaces for ALL People.

Everyone belongs in the arts because the arts are a mirror to the human experience - to love, heartbreak, joy, anguish, and every experience, emotion, and feeling in between. The arts tell the story of our lives. On the surface, this sounds immediately inclusive - all humans experience the human experience, right? So if the arts are a window into the human experience, then all people must belong in the arts, feel safe and seen in the arts - it should be easy. Unfortunately, this isn’t always true. See, creating a space of belonging takes active energy; it must be continuously and intentionally chosen. And for many of us, it takes unlearning and relearning to create.

It’s pretty obvious that all people are different. There’s a spectrum for everything - skin color, gender, size, abilities, hair types, beliefs and values, age, wealth. People are of different ethnicities, come from different countries and cultural backgrounds, and have different lived experiences - you get the point. Everyone is unique - it’s beautiful and it’s what makes our world interesting. However, when I reflect on the representation of the world around us through the arts and of the people in the world around us and their lived experiences, something doesn’t quite add up. The world I see for real and the world I see represented in the arts aren’t always the same.

A true sense of belonging should include representation. How can we feel that we truly belong in a space if we can’t see ourselves there? The good news is that the world of the arts is making some progress! Watching the Tony Awards this year filled me with joy because I saw more diversity than I ever have when watching. The bad news is that it’s pretty slow and a little treacherous for those people who aren’t white, thin, conventionally attractive, able-bodied, and cisgender.

Some limited, but striking stats from famous spaces - 

There have been over 3,000 Rockettes since 1925.  

• As of 2/21/21, there had been approximately 63 Rockettes of color. 

• There has never been a plus size Rockette. 

• To my knowledge (and based on the information I can find) there has never been a trans Rockette. 

• Of the 84 Rockettes currently on the line, 12 are women of color. 

Of the 67 years of Grammy awards - 

• Black Artists have won both major categories (Album of the Year and Record of the year) only 9 times. 

• Only 4 Black women have ever won Album of the Year. 

• 8 Black men have won Album of the year

• 4 people of mixed Asian descent have won Album of the year

• 2 Latinx people have won Album of the year 

• 33 white men have won Album of the year 

• 23 white women have won Album of the Year

• 0 non-binary people have won Album of the Year

• 0 trans people have won Album of the Year. 

Of the 97 Academy Awards Ceremonies - 

• A Black actor has won Best Actor 5 times

• An Asian actor has won Best Actor 1 time. 

• A Black actress has won Best Actor 1 time. 

• An Asian actress has won Best Actress 1 time. 

• There have been no non-binary Oscar winners in an acting category. 

• A trans actor has never won an Oscar for portraying a Trans character. 

• 3 Women have won Best Director Oscars. 

In the 78 years of the Tony Awards - 

• 3 non-binary performers have won in an acting category (the first, both Black performers, were in 2023). 

• 7 people of color have hosted the Tonys 

• Black artists have won Tony Awards 147 times (in any category)

• Asian artists have won Tony Awards 23 times (in any category)

• In 78 years of Tonys with 26 categories (and many winners are teams), there have been several thousands of Tonys awarded. 

All those stats can be hard to take in—they reflect what is going on in the arts in our country on a large scale, but maybe it’s hard to relate to what our friends experience here in Frostburg. So, I’ll hand the next section of this blog over to some folks from our MCCA community, who have stories to share about how belonging (or in some cases not belonging) has affected them. 

Adeline Porter (she/her) - 

“Everyone belongs in the arts because we are all equal. It doesn’t matter your size or skin color. I love to do the arts because I make friends and we’re different but we all love performing.” - Adeline Porter (age 11)

Ashton Williams (he/him)

"Of course, as a mixed-race, BIPOC artist, I was always aware of my skin color, but I was raised in an environment that, unfortunately, many people in the BIPOC community do not get to experience. I was part of a loving family that raised me to not only stand up for myself, but to stand up for others. I was in a supportive arts and educational community where my peers and community leaders looked like me. I could just stop there. I could say that I had these wonderful circumstances and be ignorant of the fact that a vast majority of people lack the same support I had. But this is a dangerous step to take. When we ignore the marginalized, how can we expect our society to grow and change? How do we encourage the discouraged?

I think the first step is realizing our goals are possible. Seeing that what we strive to achieve is within reach. That would be representation. Growing up, I saw Denzel Washington and Sidney Poitier acting in some of my favorite movies. I saw politicians like Barack Obama and John Lewis bring change to our country. I saw the people in my life overcome obstacles and achieve great things. In the midst of adversity, I saw people who looked like me overcome. This told me that I could too.

How does this present itself in the arts? One quote I remember hearing when I was younger is that art is a representation of our devotion to life. And how sad would it be if we didn’t see a representation of all our family and friends in what showcases the depths of society the most? What does this show of our devotion to people? It shows that representation not only matters but makes our society a better place." - Ashton Williams, MCCA Alumna, Staff Member, Student at Boston Conservatory

Laura Witt (she/her) - 

“As a parent of two children who belong to the queer community, I have been incredibly grateful for the arts center in our community.  MCCA has created a safe and supportive space for my children to express themselves in a truly authentic manner.  It has allowed them the freedom to be exactly who they are and to explore who they are through art and creativity.  This has occurred without prejudice, judgment, or feeling the negative impacts of being a minority.  It has fostered a sense of pure pride and self-confidence that I know will serve as an anchor for them for the rest of their lives. It is evident in their performing arts endeavors, as well as in other areas of their lives.  This center has not only supported the LGBTQ community, but has celebrated it.  I will be forever grateful to the staff at this center for deliberately creating this welcoming supportive environment where everyone belongs.” - Laura Witt, MCCA Parent

Emilia Porter (she/her) - 

“Seeing dancers who look like you can change everything—it tells you that your body, just as it is, is worthy of being seen and celebrated on stage. I’ve always been aware that I was bigger than my peers, and while that’s never made me less passionate or talented, it has made me feel like I didn’t belong. It’s in the moments when costumes are designed for only one kind of body, or when I scroll online and see only dancers seven sizes smaller than me. The theatre and dance world often sends the message that the “perfect” body is small, narrow, and nearly impossible. That message starts young, and I can promise you, it sticks.”

But I was lucky—my mom reminded me that my body is powerful. That my strong legs carry me through life, help me jump higher, turn more beautifully, and help me stand grounded in who I am. That kind of support shouldn’t be the exception. Young dancers need to see all kinds of bodies moving boldly, because our art isn’t a one-size-fits-all. Representation says you belong here too. And we do.” - Emilia Porter, MCCA Alumna, Staff Member, Future Dr. 

Matthan Potts (he/him) - 

“When I first think about my journey navigating the choppy seas of inclusion and representation, I find myself drifting towards my sexuality, but I realize that I struggle with inclusion in a couple of different ways. Before I go any further, I want to make it clear that I understand that being a white man already makes me more privileged than most in this country. My heart goes out to everyone who has to struggle with anything more than I have. When I am auditioning for a role, I’ve always been placed in the character tracks, never the lead roles. I am often overlooked because of my weight, voice (too gay), my mannerisms (also too gay), and the way I look. I have been asked by many directors and casting officials, after they see my resume and headshot online, to send full body shots and a video. Afterwards, I’ve either been told no or simply ignored. This is a common occurrence. For some reason, when people see my body, they assume I am incapable of dancing or engaging the audience. 

So much about TV, film, and theatre is about appealing to the audience. So if you aren’t 6 ft and model material, you often don’t get a callback. It’s even worse when you are asked to be a gay character. The gay community is heavily stereotyped and often by those in it. Most of the time, a thin/muscular body type is seen as ideal. If you don’t have that, then you won’t make it, so I’ve been told. Also, this doesn’t just happen in big cities and big roles. It happens everywhere. It happens here. It happens ALL THE TIME. It’s become so common that it starts to feel real. It’s like you don’t actually matter and won’t make it because you think people look at you with disgust, but thankfully I’m surrounded by people who try to raise me up even though I still struggle. Never give up and never quit fighting!” - Matthan Potts, MCCA Alumni, Staff Member, Actor

Emily Chandler (she/her) - 

“Black women are not confined to the narrow roles society tries to box us into. We are limitless in our range, capable of embodying any character - whether it’s a queen, a scientist, a hero, or a dreamer. We are not defined by stereotypes; we are defined by our talent, our depth, and our ability to show the world the vastness of who we truly are. Just look at Halle Bailey as Ariel in The Little Mermaid - a fictional character, yet her casting was met with backlash because of her race. Or Wunmi Mosaku as Annie in Sinners, where people questioned her role as Michael B. Jordan’s love interest based on her skin color and body type. These moments prove that Black women can embody any role, regardless of who others think we should be.” - Emily Chandler, MCCA Alumni, Musician

Sebastian Sainz (he/they) - 

“I am a person who was raised in the arts. Since birth, I took in the world around me best through creative spaces and near people who let me fully express myself through my own ingenuity. I was extremely imaginative, often getting in trouble for daydreaming and writing down my stories in a composition notebook I hid in my desk. My voices were extremely important to me, and I wrote everywhere I went. My parents brought me up around music; we were always going to see the odd live band at restaurants, and I even attended my first concert before I was ten years old. 

Eventually, I joined a local theatre group, and that’s where I really started contributing to my small town’s art scene. I immediately fell in love with the art, just as quickly as I had discovered my passion for writing. Theatre combined all of the ways I expressed my creativity as a child, and I think that’s why a lot of other people are drawn to it, too. Every single person deserves to see themselves represented in their art, but unfortunately for my community, we get almost nothing. When I was fourteen, I realized something that challenged everything I knew to be true: I am transgender. For a long time, I sincerely wished that I wasn’t, and when I first thought that I might be, I did everything I could to push it down and shut it out. I searched for answers but found very few, as even in the late 2010s, transgender people were not widely talked about. I found most of my information on YouTube, watching other trans men share their stories of discovering their gender identity. Still, I was wading through uncharted waters with no clue what I was doing, and absolutely no help from my theatre community. I couldn’t see myself in any play or musical I had ever watched. For most of my life, I didn’t even know that trans people existed, much less that I was trans. Despite that, I always knew something was extremely different about me. Since being that imaginative little kid, I felt like there was a puzzle in my brain with pieces scattered all over the place, and throughout the years, they slowly started to fit together. Until hearing stories from people who had been there before, a lot of those pieces were missing altogether, and something always felt wrong inside me because of that. 

Every experience I had that related to my identity was explainable by someone else who had been there too, but unfortunately, it took me at least another five years to discover that because of the enormous lack of representation for trans people in the world. If I had seen more people like me in the world growing up, I wouldn’t have spent so long forcing myself to be something I’m not. I wouldn’t have felt shame every time I thought about my identity, I wouldn’t have thought that being trans would destroy my life in a million different ways, and I most definitely would not have thought that being trans would ruin any chance of me having a career in theatre. Unfortunately, there’s not much else I could have thought considering, once again, I was not represented in the arts I saw. Now imagine all of this happening in the brain of a 14-year-old kid. It took over a year, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to come to terms with, but eventually, that puzzle came together. 

After it did, things didn’t get much easier. You see, the lack of representation doesn’t only affect a trans person's process of discovery, it also impacts the way the world sees us. For my entire high school career, I wasn’t seen as human, as an equal. To my peers and even some teachers, I was some kind of creature. I wasn’t met with respect and understanding after coming out; I was treated like a monster. Not quite a boy, not quite a girl, but some weird freak that no one knew what to make of. In this world, we need to advocate for trans equality so that cisgender folks can understand that we are really no different from them. We’re human beings deserving of love and respect just like everyone else. 

All of this is why I was so, so disheartened when seeing the stats from above. Looking at the awards for trans people: zero, zilch, nada, and nil. I have so much respect for the 3 non-binary performers who won a Tony, but I can’t believe it wasn’t until 2023, just two years ago, that a gender-diverse person had seen an award at all. It made me think about the very first time I saw a non-binary person in theatre. It was January of 2023, I was seventeen and attending my very first Junior Theater Festival. There I saw Wren Rivera performing with big names that I had seen before, but I was only focused on Wren. I had never heard their name before, but I was so fixated on everything they were doing because, for the first time in my entire life, I saw myself represented on a stage. For the first time, at seventeen. There couldn’t have been a better place for it either, because as I watched, I knew that soon I would be performing on the very same stage in the New Works Showcase with my studio. Ever since becoming comfortable with my identity, it has been my goal to be the representation I never had. I vowed at fifteen that I would do everything in my power to keep trans kids from going through what I had to. At seventeen, I was fulfilling that, on a stage in front of 6,000 people. I was still in high school, facing micro-aggressions and bullying daily, but I was fighting for my community.

Since then, I haven’t let up; I’ve only furthered my education in theatre, and I have no plans of stopping. I’m just as dedicated to my art as I was when I first found my passion for it. I know that the little kid with his hidden journal would be so proud of what we’ve accomplished today, but I’m proud of him too. I’ll never stop fighting for him and every other trans kid after him. I really do believe that if we uplift trans people in creative spaces and make them visible in the arts, it will normalize our existence and not only help the young trans kid searching for answers but also protect them from being discriminated against.” - Sebastian Sainz, MCCA Alumni, Theatre Student at FSU

Ultimately, as with most things, the arts are a business (we all need money to survive). Yes, they’re a lifeline, an immense asset to all communities, a place of love and light and joy, but the work to actively transform and keep the arts a place of belonging is up to us; the people on top, the millionaires, they probably won’t change it, but we can.

Brené Brown says, “True belonging never asks us to change who we are.”

I love to reflect on this quote. Small communities, the teachers, the parents, the professors, the role models, the audiences - we get to make the changes that truly matter - that can transform the arts into a space where everyone does belong, all the time. A space where we ALL see our stories on the big screen, the big stage, and in a big concert venue. A space where we ALL belong in every classroom, on every stage, and in every creative space. It’s hard, intentional work, and it’s so worth it. - Shelby Herbert

*Photos courtesy of blog participants