“I’m aware of it all day, every day. We’re triggered all the time, even the best of us. On the plane ride here. I’m sitting next to a casting director from Broadway, and I asked him what he thought about a particular show. He took a long pause. So I say: ‘I guess you didn’t like it.’ And he tells me: ‘The entertainment industry is forced to put on stories from marginalized communities, even if they’re not good.’ He said that to me. As a Black person. It’s like, dude. I’m just trying to make conversation. And there it is. Suddenly I’m back in my blackness. What am I supposed to do? Do I engage? Do I turn this into a learning moment? Or do I l just let him off the hook? It’s work. That’s what it is. It’s work. That’s my challenge. To walk into a room, and not have to work mentally. To be aware of my blackness; to not forget it. But to also be present. And focused. And productive. Right now I’m at a climate change conference, and I’m one of the only Black people in the room. I’ve had decades of practice, but it still takes me five minutes. To transition. To stop worrying if people believe that I belong here. To stop feeling like a unicorn. It’s five minutes of work that nobody else in the room has to do. It’s a choice to be aware of your whiteness. It’s not a choice to be aware of your blackness. It’s the difference between going to a new upscale restaurant, and going home to Mom’s table. At Mom’s table there’s nothing to figure out. You don’t have to think about what to order. Or what you’re wearing. Or what you’re going to say. You’re at ease. That’s why people go home: so they can feel at ease.”
Why a California artist who worked on a Star Wars film is now fighting for her legacy
Marilee Heyer, a Southern California-born graduate of ArtCenter College of Design in Pasadena, started her career in the late 1960s, working on layouts and background design for Saturday morning cartoons like the “Lone Ranger” and “The Archie Show.” For “Star Wars,” the studio initially brought her on as a fresh set of eyes, storyboarding some of the Jabba the Hutt/Tatooine scenes in the movie’s first act.
Heyer says her work from “Jedi” has turned up in various books about Star Wars, Hollywood or movie fashion in general. Her illustrations were even part of the Smithsonian exhibition. Sometimes she’s credited, other times her name is nowhere to be found.
“I would like to be remembered if this is my legacy,” she concludes. “If this is what I’m most noted for, I want to make sure I’m getting credited when I’m no longer around. I view my artwork like my children. You have to be able to send them out and give them the tools they need to fight.”
