In this op-ed, Alice Wong, the founder of the Disability Visibility Project, an online community dedicated to creating, amplifying, and sharing disability media and culture, explains why we need to include disabled people in conversations about inclusion.

Watching the Golden Globes telecast last night, I was heartened to see activists from the #MeToo and #TimesUp campaigns featured. This reckoning in the entertainment industry (and others) is way overdue when it comes to the abuse of power by people at the top and the system that perpetuates such complicity and silence. However, there were a few things that rubbed me and my Twitter friend Ace Ratcliff raw.

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Another difficult conversation that is overdue in entertainment is about the absence of disabled people. From coverage, performers, representation, production, platform-building, and leadership, where are disabled people? Why do disabled people time and time again have to ask, “What about us?” and beg to be included in conversations about diversity?

Inclusion doesn’t mean sh*t unless we’re being paid, respected, and taken seriously by our nondisabled peers in every field. One simple reason for this exclusion is the power of ableism. Disabled people are everywhere, and yet we’re invisible and erased by people with unexamined privilege in the center. An example of ableism: when it’s the default that disabled characters are played by nondisabled actors. Think about the Oscar buzz around Guillermo del Toro’s The Shape of Water and the performance of Sally Hawkins, who plays a nonspeaking person who uses sign language. Think about the popular ABC medical drama The Good Doctor, featuring Freddie Highmore, a non-autistic actor playing an autistic character. I am not dismissing the talents of these actors, but if you don’t find the casting problematic, you'd better check yourself. My Twitter friend Mallory Thomas lays it all out in this thread:

Let me give you another example of these problematic attitudes and practices: A friend of mine eagerly shared with me an article from the Los Angeles Times titled “Playing an Asian Activist With a disability in Downsizing, Hong Chau Hopes to See More Diversity in Films.”

Holy sh*t, I thought. I’m an Asian American activist with a disability! There’s someone similar to me in a movie?!? I’ve got to read this! It featured an interview with the actor Hong Chau, who was nominated for best supporting actress for the film Downsizing, but I was crushed when, once again, I witnessed the limitations of the diversity-in-film conversation.

"Chau learned how to portray a woman who lost her leg by working with an amputee consultant, going to her rehabilitation center to learn how to move correctly," the article said. Chau adds: “I think one in five Americans has a disability of some sort. That’s 20% of the population, and yet we rarely ever see people with disabilities on-screen, and their stories and their resilience and their zest for life and their humor and their humanity. So I hope that, in addition to people seeing this role and being inspired that she’s an Asian woman, they’re also inspired that she’s a person with a disability, and I hope that inspires them to write more stories.”

I am totally down for more women of color in entertainment, and this is not a call-out of Hong Chau. This is a call-out of what’s considered feasible and palatable by the entertainment industry when it comes to disability diversity.

You know why we’re rarely seen onscreen? Because nondisabled actors are taking these roles, and they’re being hired by professionals who defend these decisions with weak excuses like, “We need a headliner in order for this to be successful," "We can’t find the right talent," or "It’s too difficult to accommodate a disabled actor or filmmaker.”

My community’s "resilience" and "zest for life" should show up authentically behind and in front of the camera, not interpreted through nondisabled people’s imagining of "what it’s like to be disabled." It should be up to us how we portray the full beauty and brilliance of our humanity.

I loved last summer’s performance by CJ Jones, a black, deaf comedian, actor, and writer who played the character Joseph in Edgar Wright’s Baby Driver. On the success and visibility of his role in Baby Driver, Jones said in an interview with Kevin Polowy:

“It’s really made a huge impact I think for all deaf actors and the deaf community.... I think it really does open the door for many others...many other dreamers to be able to be an actor regardless if they’re deaf or hard of hearing.”

The whole idea of diversity is how it challenges our normative ways of thinking, doing, and being. Words about valuing the perspectives of marginalized groups in Hollywood have to be held accountable through actions: individuals and groups taking risks, sharing power, and acknowledging intersecting axes of inequality. Maysoon Zayid, a comedian, actor, and advocate, keeps it 100% in this video about how Hollywood shuns disabled people:

"We are 20% of the population, and we are only 2% of the images you see on American television, and of those 2%, 95% are played by nondisabled actors."

My disabled friends and I are starving for authentic representation. We deserve and demand it.

Let’s not waste this moment in entertainment when people are attempting to have honest conversations and make changes. Let’s dream bigger and expect more. Let’s extend and embrace all of us in the creation and representation of media. I am eager for the day we don’t feel like unicorns or have to say, “Hey, people, we exist!”

Related: Most Actors Who Play Characters With a Disability Don't Actually Have One, Study Finds