Why We Should Still Be Talking About Liza Colón-Zayas's Emmy Win
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Sunday evening at the Emmys, Liza Colón-Zayas took home the award for best supporting actress in a comedy. Not only was it the actress's first Emmy in a career that spans decades, but she became the first Latina to win the coveted prize, an Afro Latina at that. It was truly a historic moment on a night filled with them. However, for me, what truly stood out wasn't just the fact that Colón-Zayas became the first. There will always be a first. This doesn't necessarily mean that the doors of representation will be flung open. Just look at Halle Berry's historic Oscar moment back in 2002, if you need further proof. It's 2024 and we have yet to see another Black American actress win the Academy Award for best actress. So, no, being the first isn't always a sign that positive change for people of color is on the horizon.
But Sunday was different. Colon-Zayas's own win was followed by wins for Anna Sawayama and Hiroyuki Sanada, the first Asian actress and the first Japanese actor to win primetime Emmys. Gael Bernal Garcia and Diego Luna became the first actors to introduce and announce the winners of a category entirely in Spanish. And John Leguizamo gave a stirring speech taking Hollywood to task for its history of brownface, while stressing the importance of representation.
But representation hasn't always been kind to us. Oftentimes having a seat at the table has meant having to play the junky or the illegal immigrant, or the struggling single mother (again Halle Berry). Most recently, we've been inundated by narco cinema, with streaming services battling it out to see who can tell the most blood-soaked story set in sepia-bathed Mexico or Colombia. That's not to say more real, nuanced roles don't exist for Latines. It's just that it's rarely the dominant narrative. Which is what makes Colón-Zaya's win so special. Her portrayal of Tina on "The Bear" is incredibly nuanced. The actress gradually peels back the layers of the chef's tough exterior over the course of season to reveal the very human experience at its core. And that's just what the character of Tina represents—not so much a Latine experience, but a human one. Sure, the actress brings her Latinidad into the role simply by embodying the character: the jewelry, the inflection of her voice, all of it adds depth. But at her core, Tina speaks to the working class woman, to anyone who has ever felt secure in life, kids gone off to college, house finally to themselves only to have rapid change creep in and pull the rug out from under them.
No drugs. No single motherhood (her husband on "The Bear" is actually played by her real-life spouse, David Zayas, who she thanked in her speech). In this role, there are no immigration woes either. Just real life and real everyday problems: the loss of a friend and dealing with imposter syndrome. And that's important for two reasons. One: when a performer is freed from the shackles of having to "play" a Latine, it allows the actor to focus on grounding their performance in what matters — the emotion. The writing on Season 3 of "The Bear" allowed Colón-Zayas to do just that, imbuing every microexpression with humanity, from the depths of her eyes to the slow spread of her trademark smile.
But maybe more importantly, Colón-Zayas's performance and the recognition for that performance speak to Latines and other historically marginalized groups ushering in a new age of narrative plurality. Narrative plurality is the ability to tell multiple stories that ring true to the myriad experiences of our peoples and cultures. This is something that Diego Luna and Gael Bernal Garcia enjoy in their motherland of Mexico. It is something that Hiroyuki Sanada enjoys in Japan, the privilege of negative portrayals in media not affecting how you are perceived in real life because the positive portrayals balance it out. However, in this country, where we have a history of dehumanizing and criminalizing the other — like how Donald Trump accused immigrants of eating American pets during the presidential debate a week ago —it is something Latines and other people of color have yet to achieve. And yet, this is a country of immigrants. Since its founding it has been and with each generation that comes here, the tapestry of stories, American stories, that can be told is woven all the richer. Latines are not a monolith. Neither are Asians, or Black Americans, or even white people for that matter. Our experiences can vary as much from each other within our various ethnic groups as they can from one group to another. But when we're given the opportunity to portray that nuance, to go deep and bring to the surface what hasn't been shown before, we can all do great things. Sunday night's Emmys was a testament to that. Liza Colón-Zayas's win was a testament to that.
This is what real representation looks like.
Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latine identity and culture. He does everything from exclusive interviews with Latin music artists to opinion pieces on issues that are relevant to the community, personal essays tied to his Latinidad, and thought pieces and features relating to Puerto Rico and Puerto Rican culture.