That changed a little in recent years with shows like “One Day at a Time,” which centered the Cuban American experience in all its complications. Characters talked through feelings of cultural displacement, family strife, financial problems, colorism, immigration issues, veterans’ issues, mental health care and so much more.

I consider the show’s characters to be my on-screen cousins. No other piece of media has caused that sensation. Watching “One Day at a Time,” I can almost smell the arroz con frijols in the kitchen, feel the urge to dance during the Gloria Estefan-sung theme song, connect with the flashes of Cuban American history in the introductory montage: shots of the old Pan American flights that brought one of the first waves of refugees in the 1960s; little girls holding their dolls, which might have been all they were allowed to bring with them; old pastel photos of a traditional quinceañera dance; and grainy footage of a salsa performance that looks like it was taken in Havana’s legendary nightclub the Tropicana. I laugh when the show’s grandmother, Lydia (Rita Moreno), doles out outdated advice, cry along with Penelope (Justina Machado) as she struggles to do her best for her family and cheer on Elena (Isabella Gomez) as she explores all parts of her burgeoning queer feminist Latinx identity.

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But on Thursday, the show’s distributor, Netflix — which recently launched a campaign promoting the diversity of its programming — announced that the company would not renew “One Day at a Time” for a fourth season. It crushed the cast, crew and fans. Many of them advocated for it on social media, urging people to watch the show to drive up numbers. “I am grieving for the terrible loss of my beloved character, Lydia, on ‘@OneDayAtATime,’” tweeted Moreno. “I’m not entirely sure how I’ll manage without the ability to exercise that manic, theatrical side of me that’s been loitering on the edges of my life for years looking for a home.”

Whatever those numbers are, Netflix has not released them. Even if the company did disclose them, we would need to see the numbers for other shows to verify its claim that “One Day at a Time” just didn’t have the audience.

Part of Netflix’s blessing is also its curse. While the streaming service makes it easy for creators to reach millions around the world, it drops so many titles on any given day that it’s difficult for new shows or movies to gain a foothold. For example, Netflix added 23 movies on March 1, with another 67 TV shows and films scheduled over the rest of the month. That’s almost three titles per day. With a few exceptions, Netflix doesn’t always advertise when the latest show or movie becomes available on its service, and the algorithm isn’t perfect. When I went to watch the premiere of “One Day at a Time’s” third season, the show did not come up on the home screen. I had to search for it and then look in my “continue watching” list to keep going through episodes. Added to the platform’s lack of marketing and awards push for this show, these circumstances gave Netflix a convenient out to claim that it didn’t have an audience. Even if the company didn’t invest in building a following in the same way it pushed for its Oscars darling “Roma” during awards season, the show grew one of its own, as evidenced by the thousands of angry responses to the news of the show’s cancellation.

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I refuse to accept that Netflix could not afford fans and the creative team a chance for farewells with a proper send-off movie or a final season — when it shelled out $100 million for “Friends.” I couldn’t tell you if there was ever a Latino character that lasted longer than an episode or a season on that show. If being “diverse” is something that has cost opportunities for the communities represented on “One Day at a Time” — including immigrants, people of color, queer folks, veterans, people with mental health issues — then companies trying to flaunt that diversity label need to pay a price and invest in its employees, writing rooms, showrunners and so on. Give back to the communities you say you stand for, don’t just throw one or two nonwhite, non-male names out in a news release and call it a day. I want to see a Netflix queue so diverse my eyes will hurt from scrolling past so many shows and movies that reflect me, my friends and the millions of people Netflix reaches but doesn’t serve.

I’ve lost count of how many people have told me that “One Day at a Time” helped them through some life crisis or tough period. The first season sent me on a nostalgia trip, revisiting my 15th birthday as Elena fights with her family to make hers symbolic and fit her feminist beliefs. What a tumultuous and wonderful time it was. Yes, it was the day I wore a big poofy dress and crown, but it was also the day a relative bought me my first camera, which sparked my interest in photography and, later, movies. No one in my family could have predicted a gift for my 15th birthday would lead to my career as a film critic and writer.

I watched the second season around the time I abruptly stopped taking antidepressants and felt crushed by the full weight of those side effects. This was nearly the exact plotline for Penelope, and I had almost no one to talk to about it, but it felt as if the show offered some guidance for getting out of that slump.

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Not long afterward, I took the initiative to go to a remote area of Cuba with my grandmother to meet a part of my family. I won’t say the show was directly telling me to reconnect with my far-flung relatives, but it certainly kept them on my mind.

This latest season was no less emotional. It dealt with themes of forgiving long grudges, reconnecting with relatives, coping with jealousy and helping friends. In the finale, Penelope is simultaneously stressed about an exam that could change her career and faced with enduring her ex-husband’s wedding alone. Eventually, she decides that, maybe, unlike her parents, she might not have one great love of her life. The theme challenges our cultural obsession with marriage as it focuses on Penelope’s career instead. It was the message I wanted — and needed — at that time, and it’s one I hear a lot from “One Day at a Time” fans.

The power of telling our stories may not always translate into a company’s bottom line. With the success of “One Day at a Time” (I refuse to consider Netflix’s definition of failure), I’ve seen what’s possible when we are given enough space and resources to do it. Now that I’ve tasted something of how it feels to see yourself on-screen and watch a range of stories from your community, I don’t want to go back to begging for scraps. The reason this cancellation is a problem for Netflix is that now, marginalized groups have the audacity to ask for more.