Code Black – Every Story Matters

By: Alex Steele

As a longstanding fan of medical shows (“ER,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” etc.), when I stumbled upon “Code Black” to say I was excited is an understatement. And the thing is, “Code Black” is nothing like those medical dramas that have come before. It goes above and beyond.” Code Black,” from the get, obliterated the boundaries and went where many television shows today don’t dare to go. They’ve had patients from all walks of life, with all sorts of conditions. They’ve explored a variety of societal issues through the eyes of medicine, given insight into the dynamic and at often time’s tumultuous, camaraderie of ER staff all the while delivering it with power, ingenuity and beauty. The committed and continually nuanced Melanie Chandra, as a member of the main cast, brings to life Malaya Pineda. Malaya is a Stanford graduate and after having completed her training and internship at Angels Memorial, securing a resident position was a dream come true. Since then, she’s experienced success, joy, horrific trauma and deep, world-shaking loss. And yet, she remains as the quietly resilient heart of the Angels team. She’s passionate and compassionate. She is ambitious yet humble. She’s stoic. She is intelligent. Malaya is subtly sassy and highly loyal. She’s also a lesbian – a part of who she is I hope is never overshadowed or pushed to the side.

In a year that has seen LGBTQ characters meet head on some of the most tragic challenges life can throw, the simple fact Malaya remains on our screens as “Code Black” Season Two premieres is a positive. But how positive is it when stories like Malaya’s are told then untold. How positive is it when they are given the space to evolve just to have that space be a simple box to check off? What does that say to young children, teenage children and young adults experiencing a plethora of emotions they can’t seem to understand? They want to be a doctor, but may be concerned that their sexuality could stop that from happening. They are told that being gay, lesbian or transgender could jeopardize their future. Now, if I were to look back during my high school years there was not one instance that I recall where I saw individuals like myself and so many others on television or in film. It wasn’t until years ago, still deeply closeted, that television had caught up. We had Arizona Robbins on “Grey’s Anatomy” and Carmen and Shane from “The L Word.” Television seemingly was progressing. But when the 2015/2016 television season started little did we know how far back it would fall. Little did I know that characters I had come to love, characters of whom represented a part of me, would be gone. It wasn’t until I really committed to the art of television and film that I understood the importance of having everyone (of all races, genders and communities) represented. And it wasn’t until I entered the world of “Code Black” and subsequently met Malaya Pineda that my own journey took on new meaning.

“It took me years to find the courage, and even then, I couldn’t do it alone.”

I’ve been gay my whole life. I couldn’t tell you when I first knew, but I can tell you when that switch clicked, when the lightbulb went on and I could no longer continue with the façade of being “confused” or “ashamed.” It was when I first fell in love; like hard, deep, physiological manifesting love. She was a member at my gym and I was an up and coming personal trainer. She was out of my league (or so I thought), continually pursued by each and every gym-buff, that my chance of ever being noticed seemed slim to none. But low and behold, she had noticed me months before and had secretly developed a crush. It’s too long-winded to tell the whole story here, but I’ll simply say that our love was great. It was out of body. We connected and fell fast. She was my first real love. And she was my first world-shaking, soul-altering heartbreak. It took me three years to recover. As I emerged, stronger than I ever was before, with a newfound confidence and clarity, I refused to settle for a life in the closet.

When I watched the episode In Extremis (an episode that explored the struggles LGBTQ individuals face when understanding their sexuality and their feelings as well as the pain of not being accepted) I recognized myself and my story. In the episode, Malaya must maintain a professional distance when a young teenager is rushed into the emergency room having attempted suicide. As the story unravels, we learn that the young victim and his best friend had fallen in love; the kind of young love that is innocent, new and fun. We soon learned, unfortunately, that the father of the victim did not approve. As I watched the story take shape and Malaya’s role within, I was transported back to the weekend I came out. I remember the nasty comments, the hate and the shock. My parents were just like this father. And for the first time in my life, I understood what it was like to be bashed upon for being who I was – criticized for being open and honest lead to a myriad of feelings, dark, twisted and overwhelming. So, as I watched this episode when the young man was pronounced dead and his best friend (who loves him more than anything) blame himself, my heart broke. And when Malaya stood up to the father, championing Jamal and Victor’s relationship by passionately stating that love, any kind of love, is what matters. My hearted soared. She encouraged the father to see that regardless of anything else, opinions or beliefs, he loved his son. Malaya went further to shed insight into it having taken years for her to come out and even then she couldn’t do it alone. I was Malaya, but I could have so easily been Victor and to have both aspects of my story (and I’m sure countless others) told with rawness and beauty was important. Representation like this and artistry like that of Chandra’s, committed and poignant, continued to be a shining light in the current landscape of LGBTQ storytelling.

“But the one thing you can’t do, is nothing.”

The one thing you can’t do is nothing; a statement Malaya desperately states to her girlfriend Carla (Shiri Appleby) when she refuses treatment for terminal cancer. Her reason? She’s pregnant and doesn’t want to risk the life of her unborn baby. Regardless, Malaya won’t let Carla give up like that. And no matter the context, that statement is relevant in more than just this situation. More often than not, doing nothing versus doing something is the difference between a good or bad result. Success or failure. Furthering your career or remaining stagnant. Doing nothing leaves you right where you are. Doing nothing, left me in the closet, and at a dead end in my career, settling for what life was wasn’t getting me anywhere. And I know it’s difficult to wake up and decide to do something, but what if doing something could change your whole life? Malaya doesn’t settle. She doesn’t sit back and let life pass her by. She stands up for those who have lost their voice, she fights for those she loves and she works tirelessly to further her knowledge and ability as a doctor. Malaya Pineda and her story and values deserve more than nothing. LGBTQ stories like hers, the championing of every kind of love in this world and deeply human characters deserve more. And sure, doing nothing is often easier, there’s no blow-back or negativity. Sure, it would have been easier for me to stay in the closet as I would have saved myself a lot of hurt and pain. Yet, doing something by coming out and living my life as my true self, as hard as it was, was the best decision I’ve ever made. So, what if we did something? What if we did more? What if we dedicated more time to the LGBTQ characters on our screens? Just like every other character on television their story matters. Their story could be what helps a young adult come out to their parents. Their story could teach those parents understanding and patience. Their story could change a life in the way Malaya Pineda’s has changed mine and so many others.

“The LGBTQ community has been so strong and supportive of Malaya, and I’m so grateful. The most rewarding part is when I receive messages from young girls, sharing that Malaya’s character inspired them to come out. It’s so incredible how a character, a story, can help others find their voice and their confidence. I hope that continues.” – Melanie Chandra

Malaya Pineda is important and not just because she’s a lesbian. It’s because she’s a woman, a doctor, a daughter, a friend and a colleague. She’s a character that represents so much more than one facet of our society. Melanie Chandra’s commitment, wholeheartedly and fearlessly, in telling Malaya’s story was a defining moment in “Code Black’s” first season. In the most subtle of ways, Chandra allowed Malaya to stumble yet succeed. She ensured Malaya was not just the token LGBTQ character, but an integral part of the bigger story. When Malaya was broken, Chandra physically depicted the insular and private pain. When Malaya felt love – undeniable, deep love – Chandra ensured the audiences knew just the lengths one would go to when love is involved. When Malaya was annoyed or irritated, the facial expressions and tone change in her delivery were on point. And when Malaya was attacked, horrifically, Chandra was unrecognizable as she committed fully to delivering some of the most heart-wrenching and soul-crushing moments on television.

It is artistry like that of Chandra’s, raw and humanly in tune, it illustrates a devotion to storytelling. And not just any storytelling, but the poignant, relevant and timely portrayal of Malaya Pineda. In a world and television landscape that continues to take one step forward and two steps back, the nuance and breath of Chandra signals hope. It signals a necessary commitment and progression. It signals the importance of storytelling that not only represents the LGBTQ community, but everyone. Understated yet confronting, heartbreaking yet profoundly inspiring, Chandra’s work as Malaya Pineda resonated with me from the very beginning. Being able to watch an LGBTQ female, working professional navigate the ever-changing landscape of this journey called life brings with it an understanding. A peace. Being represented, celebrated and having our stories told is important. But having them delivered, beautifully and respectfully, by artists and warriors such as Melanie Chandra gives them a deeper meaning. Malaya Pineda is me and she is you. Her story matters, my story matters and everyone’s story maters.