1. The Missteps of Representation
Susie had spent weeks championing representation and inclusion for a commercial campaign with the AdCouncil. It was a campaign meant to spotlight diverse identities and talents—a chance to not only tell a story but to show, unequivocally, that diversity mattered. But what unfolded on set was a masterclass in missed opportunities and systemic failings.
From the moment casting began, cracks appeared. Susie had advocated strongly for the inclusion of a differently abled girl among the 10 teens being cast. The client, too, was enthusiastic about the representation this talent would bring to the campaign. But when it came down to the decision, the creative directors (CDs) overruled. They cited vague concerns about “logistical difficulties” on set and the ability to “get the shots we need.” Instead, they selected a white, able-bodied girl. Susie had argued passionately for the differently abled girl, but her voice wasn’t enough against the combined weight of the CDs and the director. The client, who had been leaning toward the differently abled talent, ultimately deferred to the creative team’s judgment.
The trouble didn’t end there. Among the cast was a nonbinary talent—someone whose inclusion was a critical step toward authentic representation. Susie, ever mindful of potential issues, had held several pre-production calls emphasizing the importance of using correct pronouns. She had even suggested team members unfamiliar with pronouns practice in advance. Both CDs—one a Black male, the other a white-presenting Brazilian—had been present for these conversations, nodding along as the sensitivity of the matter was stressed.
And yet, from casting to completion, one of the CDs persistently misgendered the nonbinary talent. On set, it happened repeatedly—at least 12 times in a single day. Each time, he was corrected by the producers, account team, and even the client. Each time, his response was dismissive. “Whatever,” he’d say, rolling his eyes or sighing in exasperation. It wasn’t that he didn’t hear the corrections—it was that he didn’t care to change his behavior.
The misgendering created a palpable tension on set. The CD never spoke directly to the talent, seemingly keeping his distance. Meanwhile, other team members made efforts to shield the talent from further discomfort, quietly steering conversations away from the CD. The director, though more respectful, avoided addressing the issue directly with the CD. The problem had been apparent even during pre-production meetings, but no one had stepped in to ensure accountability.
As the day wore on, Susie wasn’t on set to intervene directly. She was receiving updates via text from the client, who was growing increasingly uneasy. One of the account team members, unable to stand by, filed a complaint with HR. But by then, the damage was done.
Reflecting on the experience, Susie was left with questions that haunted her: What else could I have done? How do we create a culture where representation isn’t just a checkbox, but a commitment to doing it right? The campaign could have been a moment of bold, authentic representation. Instead, it became a cautionary tale about the gap between intention and action—a stark reminder that true inclusion demands more than good intentions. It requires accountability, respect, and, above all, the courage to prioritize humanity over convenience.