We Deserve The Full Range Of Indigenous Identity On-Screen
Growingupon the Navajo Nation, Sydney Freeland never saw herself reflected in mainstream media, at least not in any positive way. She also never imagined that she would be part of the modern-day Native American awakening that’s ushering in unprecedented authentic representation to film and television. Today, the 44-year-old Navajo transgender filmmaker — whose credits include the series “Reservation Dogs” and “Rutherford Falls” — has made it so that Indigenous entertainment feels not only honest but also inclusive.
For Freeland, it’s not enough just to accurately reflect Native communities in media; she also wants to highlight the full range of Indigeneity. Last year alone, she put a spotlight on Marvel’s first Native disabled female superhero with “Echo,” and then in “Rez Ball” she showcased an underdog basketball team of Indigenous high school boys (largely portrayed by first-time actors) with a queer female coach. On a journey of creativity and intention, Freeland discusses what inspired her filmmaking career, how her intersectionality influences her work, and what it means to bring these diverse characters to the screen.
You have said that you’re “double used to being misrepresented in film and television.” Can you elaborate on that?
Being both Native American and transgender, I didn’t see any real representation growing up. On the trans side, what was out there was so limited, unhealthy and often exploitative — like “Jerry Springer” type stuff. There’s an excellent documentary that covers this called “Disclosure,” by Sam Feder. It really wasn’t until 2014 that there was this huge inflection point and the trans experience became part of mainstream American society.
Then on the Indigenous side, it was always cowboys and Indians in old Western movies. I grew up cheering for the Washington Redskins and the Cleveland Indians, because that’s what I thought representation was. Honestly, I think it’s [Generation Z] that’s really challenging those norms and helping us all take a hard look at many of these things that have been so deeply racist for so long.
Growing up on the Navajo Nation in the 1980s and 1990s, did you ever think you’d be an integral part of bringing Native representation to the screen?
The concept of filmmaking didn’t exist for me growing up. I went to the movies like anybody else, and there were a bunch of names that would appear on the screen, but it didn’t mean anything to me because the film industry was so far removed.
But I was surrounded by artists I looked up to who worked in more traditional mediums, like painting, weaving, pottery and silversmithing. So I went to school to study painting and drawing, then along the way I was exposed to photography, 3D animation, computer graphics and creative writing, which were all mind-blowing concepts. In my final year of undergrad, I took a film class and realized I wanted to make movies. From there, I threw myself into film school and into the film industry. It definitely wasn’t something I could have even dreamed of growing up.
How do you bring your own intersecting identity and lived experiences to your work?
When people talk about diversity and inclusivity [initiatives], it’s not something that I’m trying to achieve — this is who I am and this is my lived experience. The stories I tend to gravitate toward the most have characters that are othered. But at the end of the day, it’s really about the humanity of these characters and their situations.
My first feature film, “Drunktown’s Finest,” was about where I grew up, on the Navajo reservation in New Mexico. I wanted to portray the reservation as I know it: this bright, thriving, dynamic, diverse place that’s full of interesting people. Hopefully it’s a very relatable human story that’s accessible to people who aren’t necessarily from our communities.
With “Echo,” on paper it’s about a deaf, Indigenous female character, which isn’t my lived experience. But it’s also a deeply human story about someone looking for a community and challenging their definition of what true family is. “Rez Ball” is a sports movie and an underdog story that everyone can relate to; it just happens that the characters are Indigenous.
What does it mean to you to be part of the Native movement underway, with more authentic representation than ever before?
I feel so grateful to be in this place and time, alongside people like Sierra [Teller] Ornelas of “Rutherford Falls” and Sterlin Harjo of “Reservation Dogs.” We’ve been plugging away for years, and now that we’re in this era of peak TV, people are looking for these kinds of previously untold stories. We’ve all been sitting here saying, “Hey, if you give us a chance to show what we can do, we can blow your fucking minds.” The world is finally seeing what happens when Indigenous people tell Indigenous stories.
Now, Sterlin has set the bar with an Emmy nomination, and [“Killers of the Flower Moon” actor] Lily Gladstone has set the bar with anOscar nomination. That’s not to exclude legends like Graham Greene, Tantoo Cardinal, Irene Bedard and Wes Studi. What makes this era different is that you have [Indigenous] people in positions of influence both in front of and behind the scenes. It feels like we’re just at the beginning of something really special.
This conversation has been edited for clarity and brevity.