Splitting her time between Los Angeles and London, Bisha K. Ali is a screenwriter, director and producer. You may have heard her name already, as the head writer/executive producer of the Marvel Studios' Ms. Marvel series for Disney+. Or for consulting on HBO & Sky's upcoming series The Baby and writing on Marvel Studios' Loki for Disney+, Hulu's Four Weddings and a Funeral, and Netflix's Sex Education.

That’s quite an impressive list, especially of shows I’m super interested in. Having grown up on comic books, the idea of watching Ms. Marvel does nothing but fill me with joy. A brown, young, impressive superhero. It’s so exciting and I can’t think of anyone better than for Bisha to head the project.

Bisha’s work is routed in community: “As a storyteller, my work always gravitates back to unpacking the idea of home - where we feel at home, where we feel at peace, and when we’re shoved out into the cold without one. Every story I tell is refracted through a diasporic lens, using science fiction to bend, break and confront society’s quadruple standards for immigrants and their descendants.”

With this in mind, she is working with Netflix to help increase the diversity of its programming and working with The Salon as a mentor in their new program in amplifying South Asian talent.

I spoke to Bisha about this work specifically – as someone who has and is continuing to do amazing work in an industry that feels gatekept and elitist, she’s letting others know that they can and should be in the same room she’s in.

How important is it for you to ‘open doors’ for people of colour?

It's vital. I'd argue that it's less about opening doors single-handedly and beckoning everyone through, it's more about strengthening and empowering individuals while building a community - a collective - and knocking the doors down together. It feels central to everything that I've ever done, using whatever power I have, however limited, to push and push.

Do you want to see specifically more South Asian people in roles within the creative industry?

Yes, and particularly in positions of power, but to be clear I feel that way about all marginalised groups. Give us some of the purse-strings. Stop pretending that we're a risk, that we're not ready. And I want to see all of us using whatever powers we have to create spaces for all marginalised communities to work, create freely and frankly, above all else, feel safe in our industry. All of it takes collective action. It'll never be any one of us changing it all; it's just too exhausting and heart breaking alone.

Are there any people you mentor at the moment?

Yes, lots of people, at various stages on their paths and to different degrees. The most valuable thing I can try to give to any creative is a sense of recognition and visibility - to make sure they know they are seen, valued, and integral to our industry, and that they can do whatever the fuck they want.

I contribute by making myself accessible and available in a field that's inherently hostile towards minorities. I try to connect them up with each other, with resources, and try to be a sounding board at different junctures in their careers. I selfishly get a lot of joy out of advocating for them as creatives when the right opportunity arises and seeing writers get their first credits or accomplish a goal they set out for themselves. It's a privilege to be able to work with and admire creatives as they grow in their practise. And hopefully they'll want to work with me some day!

That’s a lot of work. As an underrepresented person yourself, that’s a lot of energy from you. Do you think that’s fair?

The space will only be welcoming if the door's held open. No one wants to go to a party they weren't invited to, but we're constantly having to invite ourselves to this party. The analogy's going too far, but if we can send invites out to those who are always left off the invite list, we must.

All that being said, I've felt my responsibility to my peers and other people coming up keenly and constantly. It's an additional job on top of being a creative in my own right. I take pride in doing it, and take heart in community, but I certainly have moments where I wish this was over - where we were ubiquitous, where we didn't have to put up such a fight all the time for the most basic of demands: to actually be on some kind of equal footing and be empowered to tell whatever stories we want. I can't wait. Think of all the wasted energy that's gone into fighting those fights that could've been spent on incredible stories and art that we're all missing out on.

How do you see it changing?

I don't have any answers. I am grateful for all the people much smarter than me who engage in the debate and discourse and collective actions around changing our field. I've learnt so much from so many.

I try to focus on the things that I have personal power and capacity to do, and the sway that I can utilise where I can. I can help empower creatives, get us into rooms higher up and try to be a support creatively and professionally. I can help on that end.

Thinking about the UK - it's up to the gatekeepers, who have the statistics because they are literally the ones making deals (or choosing not to) with creatives to look objectively at their track records and ask if their instincts and decisions are biased - who is deemed a risk and who is deemed a wunderkind? The solution isn't to create a scheme for those you can't seem to help but label a risk, it's to unpack the bias and commission them. There are only so many times we can hear about diversity and inclusion quotas when we see the same patterns over and over and over again in actual commissions. Commissions and giving POC and minority groups creative power will change our industry; I do think it's as simple as that. From what I'm seeing, we've been having the same conversations for decades.

But I'm also optimistic. We make space for each other. That's what I have in my power and what I can strive to do.

I see you as someone who’s helping marginalised groups to find themselves in that industry and that’s beautiful. Shouldn’t everyone be doing that though? And how would you tell them to?

Whatever's in their capacity - to help meet the needs of those entering our industry, help make sure their voices are heard and make sure that they know that there's a community for them to join, that there are more and more of us all the time. I think we should make sure that they know that while you will likely be isolated on many jobs, you're not alone.

I don't know that I would tell anyone else what they should or shouldn't be doing. Sometimes we forget that even those minorities who have seemingly made it in are still minorities in their field and need support and empathy too. There's no magic moment where you suddenly have full agency and power. So, when I say they should do whatever's in their capacity, I don't just mean professionally, I also mean emotionally and psychologically. It's OK to be too tired to fight or be a wellspring for others.

Luckily, it's a joyful task, to commune with other creatives and listen to their ideas and their hopes and dreams, and there's a draw to that that I think many creatives who have 'broken through' in our industry come back to again and again.

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Bisha K. Ali is amplifying marginalised voices in TV and Film

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