On the evening of February 29. 1940, Hattie McDaniel would make history as the first African American to win an Academy Award. However, hidden underneath the tide of change was a raging cling to the past. McDaniel’s would win, but it would be a win isolated from her peers. The mocking words of “Whites only” restricting her, for the duration of the ceremony, to a back room intended to store Oscar trophies. It did not make any sense. She had looked the part, wearing a gown embellished with rhinestones and placing stark white gardenias in her hair. She had poured her own sweat and tears into the battle to be seen and had won it. But Hattie McDaniel was Black, and even in her moment of glory, she was not heard. 

During my senior year of high school, when doing a paper covering Black representation in film and television, it might not come as a shock that I unfortunately researched many stories like McDaniel’s. Recount after recount of Black individuals, who when guided by bravery and hope, were often told that the big screen was something to be watched, not participated in. While reading, I found myself feeling guilty. Though I had no control on the past, the inherit privilege of my white skin felt undeserving and pathetic. These were stories from people much more talented than I might ever become and still, if placed in a room together, the consideration of my skin tone preventing me from success would never be mutually understood. In my frustration, I remember closing my laptop and turning on my TV. As I scrolled through the homepage of HBO, turning to a comfort show as a distraction; an advertised icon stopped me in my tracks. “Black Voices” it was called, a feature intended to highlight films and television for the duration of Black History Month. I clicked on it, scrolled, and as embarrassing as it might be to admit, cried. Was this the best we could do? A temporary icon of recognition at the expense of decades of mistreatment, neglect, and being pushed into a back room? As much as the notice of culture felt empathetic, it equally felt performative. 

As time has passed, Black History Month continues to bring these companies’ momentary spotlights along with it, and most streaming services include the feature. My feelings have since become more understanding over the years, and it feels ignorant not to mention the strides television and cinema has made in recognizing Black culture. Just recently, the 2025 film Sinners, directed by and starring Black individuals, earned 16 nominations for the 98th Academy Awards, the most in Oscar history. It is these moments in media that help lift the guilt, and I recognize my privilege to be speaking on this, much less having feelings towards the public’s recognition of a culture that is not my own. I am, however, still a lover of film and television, and it is an art that would be nothing without the influence of Black voices; Black voices that are much more than an annual icon on a screen.