Never Have I Ever, written a racially charged thinkpiece on a Netflix show
By Anita Chhiba
...but here we are with my first attempt and quite possibly my last, lest the culture character-assassinate me. That would, of course, be based on the assumption that anyone bothers to read past this sentence.
Anyway, if you’re still with me, here goes.
As a visibly brown Gujarati teenager who existed in smalltown Pukekohe, New Zealand in the early 2000s, I had little to nothing to relate to from a mainstream media front. A fraction more so than my parents who grew up in the same place (and went to the same high-school) in the 80s, but much less so than my younger cousins in the 2010s. Pukekohe itself wasn’t exactly built to benefit any of us either, though Indian settlers arrived as early as the 1920s, public areas and small businesses in the town remained racially segregated until as late as the 1970s. So when Never Have I Ever recently showed up on Netflix, a series which covers SA (south Asian) teenager, Devi Vishwakumar’s 2020 American high-school experience, naturally, I was ready to rip it to shreds.
It’s glaringly obvious that we as a group of SA people tend to hugely scrutinize this sort of stuff, and with good reason - we don’t have many other examples of representation from the jump. It’s seemingly inevitable when there are so few high-profile brown people telling their stories. They simply can’t please everyone they’re supposedly representing. Mindy Kaling is a first-generation Indian-American Hindu who had the burden and blessing of writing and producing the show. Equally sharing that challenge is 18-year old Tamil-Canadian Maitreyi Ramakrishnan, whose debut performance as the main character Devi Vishwakumar, has received mixed reviews on social media. To be quite honest, I’d happily pass on that responsibility at the almost certain prospect of being dragged by the culture.
Nonetheless, before I had the chance to even open the Netflix tab, Twitter did it’s thing by way of this tweet right here:
Based on this alone, I was almost ready to write the entire thing off. If you don’t quite understand this, Priyanka Chopra is heavily suss for many, many reasons. I won’t get into it at this point and time, but I’ll let you make your own judgments using here and here as a starting point. However, my not-so-internalised teenage insecurities around my culture wouldn't let me dismiss the show that easily. Despite my conscious-bias trying to keep me in a sleeper-hold, I was happily surprised when I ended up seeing all 10 episodes through in one go. Aside from the fact that we are in the thick of a viral pandemic forcing us to remain home-based, I probably would have binged regardless.
Looking back at that tweet, the vibes felt off in that first bit: “I’m never begging for south Asian representation again”. The fuck? The weight those words carry... Couldn’t be me. It seemed as though that line was strategically placed in the script. Perhaps it was about showing that beauty standards of WoC have trickled their way into mainstream media? If so, I could potentially class that as a VERY micro W. It’s also important to note that after becoming tired of seeing the same copy-paste casting in Bollywood films, Mindy decided to switch it up, by holding an open call via social media. These were for the SA roles of Devi, her mother and her cousin. Essentially inviting the community to be part of the production by providing more relatable protagonists.
Despite the show displaying mad stereotypes and several healthy doses of second-hand embarrassment, I loved it. Although I’m not Indian-American and there are areas of the show that differ from my experience of growing up in New Zealand, the storyline still completely resonated with me. In saying this, I’ve read many other reviews that use the word ‘desi’ which always kind of throws me. A word which is used by many SA’s referring to their people, culture and products. In fact, I’ve never used that word or referred to anyone of a SA background with it in my life. In my experience, it seems like a foreign title that’s snuck into the bubble of my own Indian community, even though it seems to have been adopted everywhere else. Although we all have different experiences and ways of relating, many of us still draw similar conclusions or have a common resonance with the overall storyline.
The show touches on subjects from mental health, trauma and grief, to cultural differences, sex and arranged marriage. All very heavy topics, presented in a digestible and hilarious way, delivered by an appropriately diverse cast. Keeping in mind that it’s a comedy so not every joke will be perceived the same way for everyone.
For me, it felt like a scarily similar version of my own childhood, in a ridiculously glamorised teen-comedy-drama sorta way. I was on my own in a predominantly white friendship group and I used any opportunity that presented itself to distance myself from my culture and heritage. This was to try to make myself seem less foreign despite being a second-generation New Zealander. Much like Devi, I hated dressing up and going to cultural events. I even hated the food which, looking back - is criminally insane! So in a way, Devi’s story almost felt like a biopic. The lighthearted approach helped ease the blow of addressing a time that was otherwise unbearable and traumatising for me. Why did I feel this way? That’s right! LAcK oF RepReSenTatiOn iN WeStErN MeDia.
Meanwhile, things were intensifying over on ‘think-piece twitter’. I decided to take a deeper dive into the endless hole of cyber wokeness, where I began to unpack a couple of other themes from the show that appeared to be overshadowing the gang of positive ones.
Firstly, I understand productive criticisms. It would be great to see a narrative where an Asian character isn’t working through accepting their culture or a SA lead in the LGBTQ space, but that isn't the story being told. The character of Kamla (Richa Shukla), Devi’s hot light-skinned cousin from India fits into western beauty standards. Can we tear that apart, when it’s part of the narrative? It’s something Devi is working through as she doesn't feel that way about herself. I’m sure a majority of the SA audience had similar feelings to work through at some point and time, if not currently. Another criticism that kept appearing online was the opening scene of Devi praying, and saying, “Hey, gods, it’s me Devi Vishwakumar” being considered by some as disrespectful. Again, can we really scrutinise this? As again, not everybody's experiences are the same. Mindy addressed these comments by saying that that was the way she did it. She just didn’t know all the different names of the gods because no one had taught her.
The W’s are endless. Paxton, the guy Devi was lusting after for a majority of the show, is part Japanese. There was an important scene where his friend Trent mentions that they didn’t realise that and in turn, they’d try to be more attentive. Despite other conflicting opinions, I felt it was a pro that Paxton wasn't SA, as so many of us deal with the widely stigmatised opinions from family around interracial relationships.
Ben was the only white cis-hetero main character, who was probably purposely made to not be Devi’s main interest for that very reason. He was however made to be Jewish, which means he was also a minority. But in keeping with him as white, it’s interesting they chose him to be the one to see her for herself, and didn’t fetishise her for her skin tone or culture but more so her intelligence and wit. Generally, it’s more acceptable for the male to be the PoC and female white, ala Aziz Ansari’s Master of None. It’s refreshing to have a visibly brown woman as the love interest, which Mindy also does well in The Mindy Project.
We can’t ignore my favourite issue in the show and the arguably most overlooked issue in SA communities: Sex. Devi is sex-obsessed. This narrative was a massive stride in normalising healthy sexual conversations in SA culture. Particularly when it's so widely frowned upon and often blatantly ignored. It’s like one day you’re a high school kid who’s meant to somehow dismiss their ever-evolving sex drive and then BOOM every interaction past your 18th birthday is something along the lines of “Why aren’t you married yet?” Seems like we’ve missed a couple of steps here no? Devi’s mother Nalini, played by actress Poorna Jagannathan, is consistently condemning her having a boyfriend or being in a relationship at all, which was a genuine experience for a lot of us. But like most SA teenagers I know/knew, that doesn't stop her. The fact that Devi is so sex-positive is a hopeful step in the right direction around changing the narrative of how sex, relationships and dating is perceived in future conversations in SA family dynamics.
Despite the criticisms and issues, I still felt that I could relate to the protagonist in almost every way. Even though I haven't touched on everything, these valid criticisms certainly made me think, but couldn’t stop me from enjoying the series - because these things happened to me as a teenager.
Now, I’ve thankfully transitioned from Devi’s 15-year-old mindset to that of her older friend from Stanford who sees Devi at Ganesh Puja and challenges her internalised issues about being ‘too Indian’. He explained that the Native American friends he met at college were proud of embracing their culture, which gave him perspective. Massively progressive for cultural awareness in pop-culture. Typically that space is referred to as learning about black empowerment, which is just as valid, but indigenous peoples in America don’t usually occupy mainstream consciousness when it comes to cultural awareness.
If it’s not already obvious, I didn’t just wake up proud of my heritage and completely socially conscious one day. It took me years of unlearning. I hope that anyone PoC is met with a supportive softness from another PoC when trying to work through a similar time, which is mostly long, confusing and exhausting. In light of going easy on someone navigating through a similar experience, I became HELLA pressed about the fact that the online diaspora was so mad at the one in the show that practically mirrored mine and furthermore, labelled it as being packaged for a white audience. Not on my watch!
After winding myself up for half a day and feeling more and more alienated by comments online, there it was. You know, one of those things you wish so badly that you wrote on your own or had a morsel of brainpower to even try and articulate yourself in such a way that seemed to leave all other points in the dirt.
From the huge W’s of hearing Indian names pronounced correctly to one-liners about growing into your eyebrows, there are so many thoughts and feelings about Never Have I Ever. It’s not going to speak to everyone because it shouldn't have to. All of our experiences are different, with no right or wrong stories. That’s why it’s important to encourage more of its kind. Representation is a gradual process and the more of it we have, the more doors will be opened for others to tell their side. Which is summed up pretty well by Maitreyi Ramakrishnan (Devi) herself:
With loads of mixed reviews floating around cyberspace, it’s hard to deny that this isn’t a giant leap for the culture, on a global platform.
Perhaps we as a people, could benefit from accepting something like this for what it is rather than pulling into the toxic tropes of cancel-culture? Can we stop expecting all of our hopes and dreams of representation to be answered in a single body of work? Particularly when the work in question does a good job of showcasing the experiences of some SA realities. I’m guilty of it myself as I mentioned in my opening paragraph, but in hindsight, that kind of approach seems... I dunno, pretty similar to that massively counterproductive aunty mentality we’re always banging on about abolishing?
If you made it this far, firstly thanks, and secondly, if you have anything to add, my DM’s are open for constructive and level-headed conversations only via @diet_paratha or @achhib
Words — Anita Chhiba
Image source —here and twitter