{"id":210004,"date":"2021-09-13T16:25:51","date_gmt":"2021-09-13T16:25:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.gaytimes.co.uk\/?p=210004"},"modified":"2021-09-13T16:25:51","modified_gmt":"2021-09-13T16:25:51","slug":"sex-educations-dua-saleh-i-wouldnt-be-as-creative-if-i-wasnt-non-binary-trans-and-queer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.gaytimes.com\/amplify\/sex-educations-dua-saleh-i-wouldnt-be-as-creative-if-i-wasnt-non-binary-trans-and-queer\/","title":{"rendered":"Sex Education’s Dua Saleh: “I wouldn\u2019t be as creative if I wasn\u2019t non-binary, trans and queer”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Sex Education\u2019s newest student opens up about their big acting break and why on-screen trans representation matters.<\/p>\n

WORDS BY ZOYA RAZA-SHEIKH
\nPHOTOGRAPHY BY NETFLIX AND ERIC CARTER<\/p>\n

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Season three of the award-winning Netflix series Sex Education is on its way. The new chapter of the show promises plenty; new characters, new school rules, and new ways to cause chaos. Filmed in South Wales, season three safely sticks to its working formula: blooming romances, quirky comedy, and fail-safe scripting. It\u2019s no surprise the drama has become a fan favourite. And in its latest venture, Sex Education has added a couple of fresh faces to Moordale High. One of the new students enrolling this term is rising star Dua Saleh; an upcoming talent who has made a name for themselves through sharp songwriting, crossing lines between religion and queerness. Sex Education marks their acting debut as they bring a much-needed dose of mayhem to the classroom.<\/p>\n

Born in Kassala, eastern Sudan, Dua\u2019s journey to the small screen has been an unconventional one. The artist and their family had fled their homeland\u2019s civil war before living in an Eritrea refugee camp. Throughout their childhood, Dua then moved through various US states, before settling in Minnesota. Much like their Sex Education character, Cal, Dua resonates with being uprooted from home and embarking on a new beginning. \u201cCal is an American teenager and they’re non-binary. They’re a skater, a stoner, and they have a lot of anxiety, but they hide it well,\u201d the 26-year-old tells us over Zoom, from the US. Dua and Cal have a lot in common. Both are non-binary, they each have deep political ideals, and an affinity with fashion: \u201cThey care a lot about liberty, freedom and people being able to express themselves in the right way, or in the way that’s best for them.<\/p>\n

Whether it be artmaking, gender identity, gender expression, Cal cares a lot about people being able to just be themselves, which is really radical.\u201d The first glimpses of Cal on-screen are striking; viewers are greeted with a character wrapped in an outfit that boldly represents themselves, before it\u2019s traded out for an unflattering school uniform. We ask Dua how fashion weaves into their own self-expression. \u201cI like the baggy clothes that Cal wears. I could go into all that drama, but, currently, right now, I’m wearing a binder. I wear a lot of men’s clothes,\u201d they say, showing their dark shirt on screen. \u201cI don’t always wear a binder. I think the way that trans people cultivate their self-expression is ritualistic, especially when people get into like their own cultural backgrounds and the things that they saw growing up.\u201d The singer\u2019s style also latches onto moments of culture too, an asset seen in their day to day life and music. \u201cI have done it with at least one of my music videos such as Umbrellar where I was wearing a jalabiya (a traditional long loose-fitting outfit) because they’re comfortable. They kind of feel like dresses, but they’re looser.\u201d<\/p>\n

As we chat through the nuances of Cal\u2019s character, Dua slips in some details of what we can expect in the series. \u201cCal has issues with the new headmistress of Moordale (Hope, portrayed by Jemima Kirke), who was a former student, and tries to shift things so that they’re this weird, bureaucratic, dystopian reality of fascism,\u201d they explain. \u201cHope has a hard-on for the British Dream, not the American Dream, but the British understanding of propriety, and what a good student needs to be and what a good school is. Cal also starts forming new friendships with some main characters.\u201d As the season unfolds, it\u2019s gratifying to watch Cal come into their own, particularly as the show takes a swing at including more diverse LGBTQ+ characters.<\/p>\n

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Sex Education isn\u2019t the first modern show to bust out a gleaming plotline of underrepresentation. Shows from Pose and It\u2019s A Sin to Euphoria and Atypical have all scratched the surface of timely characters and well-scripted roles. For Dua, the experience on the mega-show Sex Education has been golden. \u201cThe writers and producers are really amazing. They really cared about authenticity and thoughtfulness and being able to showcase this phenomenal person in a way that isn’t necessarily harming anyone,\u201d they tell GAY TIMES. In fact, Sex Education, like Channel 4\u2019s It\u2019s A Sin, ensured LGBTQ+ sensitivity by hiring on-site consultants. \u201cWe had non-binary consultants and non-binary people in the writing rooms who talked to me. We had an intimacy coordinator and a non-binary consultant to ask us questions that a cis person wouldn’t necessarily ask.\u201d Mid-explanation Dua breaks into laughter, recalling a playful moment with the team. \u201cI tried to get them to make Cal a lesbian, but Cal has free will and cannot be bogged down to my specific identities,\u201d they joke.<\/p>\n

Whether it was trying to add their twist on their character or setting into the rhythm of acting, Dua admits they found the experience illuminating, particularly on a teen show fighting taboos around sex and sexual health. Growing up in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Dua attended a local high school and recalls the questionable sex education lessons. \u201cIt’s pretty bad in the States, I’m not gonna lie, it sucks. When I was in high school, they rolled in a TV and had really cis-sexist, transphobic, and misogynistic understandings of sex and what the body does,\u201d they explain.<\/p>\n

Despite the attempt at informing students, what struck Dua most was the lack of LGBTQ+ inclusive education. \u201cMy school had a GSA program (the Gay-Straight Alliance). The students would go in and educate people on LGBTQ+ identity, queerness and other things, but my only experiences with LGBTQ+ identity or learning about that in high school was learning the workshop stuff so that I could go to different classes to teach the kids who are my age.\u201d A lot has changed since then. In the last few years, Dua Saleh has made a name for themself as an experimental artist ahead of the curve. So much so, they credit their music for how they snagged their Sex Education gig. \u201cThey said they Googled me, so I don’t know if they would have found me if I wasn’t doing music. People are paying attention to me because there aren’t many non-binary musicians who are in the public eye,\u201d they say. \u201cI’m not necessarily the biggest artist in the world. I’m no Megan The Stallion, but for an indie artist, I’ve done pretty well for myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

It would be cool to have a category-specific to non-binary people because it’s an umbrella term, and so many people would fall into that category.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The significance of standing out is something to salute, but, for Dua, it\u2019s much more than that; it\u2019s an opportunity to represent. \u201cI’ve been building a narrative around my personal identity and having representation for trans and queer Sudani people, Black people, general people of colour, and Muslims,\u201d they explain. \u201cAll the different identities are stacked on top of each other and it’s really important for us to see ourselves reflected in media, in music and in any tangible art form. I don’t think I would have gotten this role without my music. I’m very grateful for all the work that I’ve done talking about my identities and expressing the importance of representation for non-binary people who share my identities. Shout out to music!\u201d<\/p>\n

Speaking of inclusivity, our conversation takes a turn to awards \u2014 several of which Sex Education have scooped up. As more high-profile LGBTQ+ actors are stepping forward announcing their identities, we discuss the future of award show categories. \u201cIt would be cool to have a category-specific to non-binary people because it’s an umbrella term, and so many people would fall into that category,\u201d Dua says, mulling over a thought. \u201cNetflix has been up for a bunch of awards for all the work that they’ve been doing, Sex Education too. Amy Lou Wood won a BAFTA which is really phenomenal for her amazing acting in Sex Education. Ncuti Gatwa and Emma Mackey were nominated as well.\u201d<\/p>\n

For Dua, the power in pushing change lies, in some part, in outward visibility and cultural acceptance. \u201cEven in popular culture, people like Sam Smith, Demi Lovato, Kehlani came out as non-binary. Elliott Page as well. There are so many different people that are coming out publicly. In last year\u2019s US census, a million people identified as non-binary and that doesn’t account for the people who don’t want to take the census. It wouldn’t make sense for them to not do that, especially when people are learning more about their indigenous understandings of gender or they’re learning they don’t have to subscribe to the Western binary in general. It would be goofy for them not to create another category.\u201d<\/p>\n

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Dua\u2019s call for revolution in the acting industry doesn\u2019t stop there. Whether it be Hollywood or streaming giants, the musician-turned-actor is hyper-aware of the inroads that need to be made to facilitate change. \u201cThere are avenues that are opening for that to happen. In order for it to be truly authentic, there need to be trans people in all of those respective jobs and being able to write, create, produce, direct, and be at the forefront of their own stories, instead of being added on as an afterthought,\u201d they begin. \u201cSex Education did pretty well in the way that they approached it, even though it’s new to them. It was something that they were thinking of.\u201d However, the buck doesn\u2019t stop there. Sex Education and It\u2019s A Sin have paved the way with intimacy coordinators and having input from diverse creatives, but the oversight, for Dua, continues to fall on trans inclusivity. \u201cTrans people are at risk every day. Black trans women are still being killed and people are not bringing attention to the ways that that violence can translate into our everyday life.\u201d<\/p>\n

There’s so much that I’ve gotten by being trans and being around trans and queer people, and that I’m very thankful for<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Brutality towards the Black trans community is something Dua cannot shake. In June 2020, Tony McDade, a Black trans man was shot and killed by police. \u201cThere was a Black trans man who was killed in Tennessee around the same time as George Floyd. Nobody was really talking about that story. People across the world are being met with violence and systemic oppression,\u201d Dua recalls, visibly frustrated. The intersection of their activism and industry entry has put them in a unique position; one that makes them self-aware of their privilege and the opportunities that come with it. \u201cA lot of the trans actors that I know don’t have non-binary consultants for their shows. They don’t have people in the writing rooms. They’re not asking the people who are acting or what they think about the script before they continue with it,\u201d they say. \u201cI feel very privileged to be acting as Cal in Sex Education, but a lot more work needs to be done if they want the stories to be sustainable.\u201d<\/p>\n

With Sex Education now wrapped up, Dua has been taking downtime back home in the US. Their days have been sporadically packed with interviews and press talks, but they\u2019re grateful for it as it comes. If anything, it has given them more space to think over their presence in the creative industry. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t be as creative if I wasn’t non-binary, trans and queer, I don\u2019t think. No shade to anybody,\u201d they laugh. \u201cI think there’s a wealth of artistic knowledge and understanding that has historically been passed down from generations of queerness.\u201d<\/p>\n

The imprint of queerness in their artistry, visuals and creative tone is intentional and powerfully vocal. Take their 2020 EP ROSETTA or 2019 compilation N\u016br. Everything Dua has made is an experimental ode to their roots. \u201cIt’s in the way that we talk, the ways that we decorate ourselves in our bodies, the ways that we engage with understandings of the world and put them into art,\u201d they explain. \u201cI think a lot of avant-garde art wouldn’t exist without trans and queer people. A lot of modern understandings of like makeup wouldn’t exist without drag artists and trans women being at the forefront and popularising things from the 1700s onwards. We’ve done a lot for culture and that’s my favourite part, artistically and culturally speaking. There’s so much that I’ve gotten by being trans and being around trans and queer people, and that I’m very thankful for.\u201d As we wrap up and share our goodbyes, Dua, again, shows their mindfulness in crossing paths across the creative sectors: \u201cIt’s nice to see another Muslim in the industry,\u201d they say to me, \u201cbecause that doesn’t happen often.\u201d<\/p>\n

You can watch the season 3 trailer of Sex Education here<\/a> or below:<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n