Jody speaks up on the racism she experienced during acting school
I've been bubbling under the surface during this White Pearl journey. I took some time to put my thoughts into words and engaged the help/advice of close friends. Do take a read and share if it resonates with you. Let's talk.
THE FIRST TIME MY SINGAPOREAN ACCENT WAS CELEBRATED IN AMERICA
As a Singaporean actress in the US, my accent was never an advantage. Until now.
These are my thoughts during a moment I took for myself in the midst of the media high and intensive rehearsals for White Pearl, a twisted corporate comedy about selling whiteness and the ugliness of the beauty industry.
It was the winter of 2013 when I was in my first year of acting school. During voice class, each student took turns to read lines from a script, to showcase our best voice. I barely said a few words when the teacher suddenly yelled, ‘Your accent is not American!’.
The incident put some fear in me, and I did not speak up in class for the next few weeks. And if I had to, it would be one-word replies or in a low, inaudible tone. I was afraid of being yelled at, for being who I am, a Singaporean, with a Singapore accent, in a class full of Americans.
So here I was, afraid of speaking - in theatre school - where that was my primary role.
But I did not take pity on myself. I knew I had to sound American in order to land acting jobs in America (or do I?). We had speech classes in school, but it was hard to get the help I needed when it was a big class. So, I found and worked with a private speech tutor for a year, who I had to pay out of pocket.
I don’t come from a rich family, and I mostly paid for acting school myself. So every penny spent counted and hurt. But I knew I needed to do it. And it was working.
We would meet three times a week after school and I would practice “IPA” (International Phonetic Alphabet) like hell. I made sure I recorded every lesson so I could listen and learn from my mistakes. I also made sure that I only had American roommates. I wanted to immerse myself, 24-7, in the American accent and culture, so I could succeed as an actor in the US.
Then came the spring of 2014, when my year-end evaluation was due. As I was sitting across my school director in his musky office, he said words that I will never forget.
“Some of the faculty wonder how much you understand their classes.”
The words stung.
Because I did not sound “American” enough, and that my personality and communication style was not western enough, they assumed I did not understand their classes.
It felt like outright racism.
There, I finally said it. It only took 6 years.
One fun fact. English is the first and most used language in Singapore. The result of British colonialism and western-educated local elites.
If the faculty took a closer look at my resume and transcript, which we all had to submit during our application to the school, they would have seen that I graduated with a Communications degree from an American college in Singapore.
It hurt when they questioned my ability to understand their classes because of my different accent and (let’s be honest) East Asian heritage.
I am not angry. I am hurt. Hurt because I had worked and sacrificed so much to be there. A school that I committed to for 2 years of my life, and emptied my savings to enroll.
In return, they could have spent a moment to understand me, my background and education. But they assumed that this Chinese girl from who-knows-where does not understand their classes.
That, for me, is outright racist.
Was I overreacting? As it turns out, not at all.
In the spring of 2015, during graduation season, the school director repeated what I feared the most.
He told me, “We have to cut you from your graduation showcase, because the faculty feels that your accent is not American enough.”
And worse. A Fillipino guy got cut from the showcase too. But a French-accented Swiss guy and a blonde British girl were not. The Eastern accents were booted. The Western ones remained.
Graduation showcase is THE BIGGEST event in a theatre student’s life. The one time that industry agents and managers have a chance to see the product of your years of hard work, through a 3-minute scene.
Fast forward to present day. I am now sitting on my balcony, in a beautiful studio apartment provided by Studio Theatre. I have been living my truest Singaporean self in rehearsal the past few days. Desdamona (director) and I spoke about how Singaporean I should sound.
She said, “Jody, go full-on.”
This is the first time, in a professional setting, in America, I was given permission, in fact fully encouraged, to not hide my Singaporeaness. I am paid and performing to be truly me.
So I guess the bigger question is, what happened since then?
How did this Singaporean actor with her Singaporean accent, viewed as inferior during her education years for being who she is, is now in the forefront of an amazing international play, alongside a mighty cast of Asian women, opening a show in the US centering Asian women with an array of authentic Asian accents?
I don’t have the answer. But this is the best moment for me to speak up.
To all theatre educators, you cannot be myopic.
While you are not expected to predict the trends, that there will or won’t be an Asian “uprising” in the entertainment industry in the coming years, you should help your students embrace their individuality.
You hold so much power over them, through your words and decisions. You shape their beliefs and sense of self as an actor. Build them up, not snuff them out.
I know I have many hurdles ahead of me. I know I still have to put on my best American accent in future auditions and roles.
I know. But right now, I celebrate. I believe we should all count our wins.
As I end my thoughts, I must admit I do not have all the solutions. But I want to live in the moment for the next few months, and to do my best to bring Sunny Lee to life.
I want the bodies warming up the seats in Studio Theatre to experience, many of them their first, an authentic Singaporean played by an authentic Singaporean.
I hope conversations will start after the bows. And I hope these conversations will never die. Because if they do… someone else will again be told to hide who they really are. To not be themselves. So let’s talk.