The more positive representation and accurate representation we
The more positive representation and accurate representation we have in the world, the more we can understand ourselves better.
Hear the voice of Ariana DeBose, who spoke with wisdom beyond her years: “The more positive representation and accurate representation we have in the world, the more we can understand ourselves better.” In this truth lies the power of the mirror—the mirror society holds before us. For when we see ourselves reflected with dignity, truth, and light, we begin to grasp who we are and who we might become. Yet when the mirror is warped with distortion, stereotypes, and silence, the soul struggles to recognize its own worth.
To have positive representation is to be shown in ways that affirm human dignity, to see one’s community depicted not as caricature or shadow, but as bearer of beauty, strength, and possibility. To have accurate representation is to be seen in truth—not exaggerated, not erased, not twisted to fit the fears or desires of others. Together, these forms of representation become more than art or image; they become the very foundation of self-knowledge and collective identity.
Consider the story of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, a book that, though imperfect, revealed to many Americans the humanity of enslaved people. Its power was not in fiction alone, but in the way it gave readers a window into lives otherwise hidden or misrepresented. In its reflection, both enslaved and free could better understand themselves. The work of representation, though flawed, helped to stir conscience and change history.
So too in the modern age, when Sidney Poitier first stepped onto the silver screen, portraying Black men with dignity, intelligence, and strength in an era of poisonous stereotypes. His presence was more than performance—it was representation that shattered lies and reshaped how millions perceived not only him, but themselves. For those who had been told they were lesser, his image on screen said otherwise: “You are worthy. You are seen. You are possible.”
The meaning of DeBose’s words is thus: we come to know ourselves by what the world reflects back to us. A child who never sees their culture, their identity, their truth represented grows up with doubt, asking, “Do I matter? Am I real?” But when they behold their reflection in stories, leaders, art, and history, depicted with truth and honor, they gain confidence, self-knowledge, and strength. The path to self-understanding begins not in isolation, but in the shared images and stories that shape our collective vision.
The lesson for us is clear: we must demand and create representation that uplifts, not diminishes. We must tell stories that reflect the truth of all people, not just the privileged few. For in doing so, we give to every child, every community, the chance to see themselves not as shadows but as light. The more honestly and positively we depict the diverse realities of humanity, the deeper our collective self-understanding becomes.
Practical wisdom calls us to three acts. First, seek out voices and stories different from your own, and let them expand your vision of humanity. Second, support creators and leaders who bring positive and accurate representation into the world, for their work builds the mirrors in which future generations will see themselves. Third, wherever you have influence—be it in art, teaching, family, or community—choose to represent others with dignity and truth. In this way, you add your voice to the chorus that shapes self-knowledge for all.
So let it be remembered: Ariana DeBose’s words are not only a call to artists, but to all of humanity. For we are all storytellers, all mirror-bearers. By ensuring that our reflections are truthful and filled with light, we grant ourselves and others the chance to walk in understanding, confidence, and hope. Positive and accurate representation is not mere luxury—it is the seed of identity, the foundation of belonging, and the path to a more enlightened world.
TNQuoc Tuan Nguyen
This quote made me think about how self-awareness often comes from seeing others’ stories. When you encounter someone whose experience mirrors yours, it can be healing. But I wonder if we rely too much on external validation to understand ourselves. Shouldn’t we also cultivate internal self-reflection alongside representation? Maybe the most meaningful understanding comes when both the inner and outer narratives align in truth.
QAquynh anh
I think this quote perfectly captures why representation matters—it’s not just political, it’s personal. Seeing yourself reflected in the world helps you make sense of your own identity. Still, I’m curious about how this applies to intersectionality. For instance, how can representation reflect people who live at the intersection of multiple identities without oversimplifying them? It seems like authenticity is easy to talk about but very difficult to achieve.
LDLuan Den
Ariana’s words really highlight how deeply connected identity is to storytelling. When people see others like them in films, books, or leadership, it gives them permission to exist fully. But it also makes me question how long-term change happens. Does media representation lead to deeper societal understanding, or does society need to evolve first before representation can truly be authentic and accepted?
LTVu Lau thi
I find this statement powerful, especially in today’s world where so many people are still fighting to be seen. It reminds me that lack of representation can distort how people view themselves and others. But I wonder if too much focus on representation in media might risk tokenism. How can we ensure that these portrayals are rooted in real stories and not just added for the sake of diversity optics?
VVVu Vuong
This quote makes me think about how much media shapes our understanding of identity. I completely agree that accurate representation helps society grow, but it also raises a question: who decides what’s considered ‘accurate’? Different cultures and individuals have their own truths. How do creators and storytellers avoid imposing a single narrative while still promoting inclusivity and understanding across diverse communities?