Now is the perfect time to talk about decolonisation. My socials feeds, which have been clogged with posts memorialising the late Queen Elizabeth II, are now chock full of memes, articles, and reactions to the trailer release of the Disney live action remake of The Little Mermaid, starring Halle Bailey. What do these two events have in common, you ask? Systemic racism.

Let me unpack this. Having grown up in Australia in the late ’80s and ’90s, well before social media, with my grandmother buying glossy magazines full of the exploits of the British royals, it always seemed so strange and foreign to me that we as a nation had as much interest in the monarchy as we did. It was clear to me, even as a child, that the “Britishness” of Australia (not just Australia’s recent history) was emphasised as a way to continually exert its dominance.

This exertion of British dominance was again reiterated through the rolling coverage of the aftermath of the Queen’s passing on Australian media, and the full day coverage planned for her funeral. Even when things were not happening, the focus was on the anticipation, the expectation, the formality and the ceremony of it all; this momentous, “once in a generation” event that the Empire was now witnessing. Discussions around the now King Charles’ accession, and analysis of every speech, action and interaction between members of the royal family has seemed to elevate each detail to ridiculous heights of importance.

Reactions from everyone were sought, from politicians to royal commentators to random passers-by out walking their corgis. We’re all supposed to have an opinion and a particular opinion at that. We’re all supposed to be buying into this para-social relationship with the royal family and not just expressing grief, but also withholding any opinions that might be contrary to the dominant narrative of sadness and respect for the elderly lady who recently passed.

Any commentary contrary to that dominant narrative has been actively silenced and scorned, with the common retort being something along the lines of, “You’re being disrespectful.” At its most extreme, there have been actively racist comments, the most prominent example being Senator Pauline Hanson’s response to Senator Mehreen Faruqi in the last week, which was essentially “go back to where you came from”.

There is a conformist attitude amongst the predominantly white Commonwealth countries, including Australia, Canada and New Zealand, where traditions that have not been seen in 70 years are being wheeled out and put on display, showing our faithful preservation of our British colonial history. Meanwhile, other Commonwealth countries, such as those in South Asia and in the Caribbean, have taken another stance: discussions are being had about becoming Republics, about demanding reparations, and about formally requesting that stolen treasures be returned to their countries of origin. There is change and defiance in the air as these countries and their peoples seek to right the injustices of the past, not continue to gloss over colonial history and maintain the current status quo. It is a shame that Australia isn’t following suit.

So now let’s talk about The Little Mermaid. But before I do, I want to dive into the importance of representation. As a psychologist who identifies as a Person of Colour (PoC) – and who is listed on a national database for clients specifically requesting a Black, Indigenous or Person of Colour (BIPoC) psychologist – I have multiple conversations every week about how challenging it was growing up in a country that has more red-heads on commercial television than people of diverse cultural heritage. We talk about how advertising has changed over the years to become more inclusive and how this often saddens us instead of making us happy, because it would have been wonderful to have been able to see ourselves as lead characters and protagonists, and not just the sassy friend or the nerdy classmate.

Inclusion in a show seems often to have been based on tokenism and exceptionalism. The idea that the main character being BIPoC and the storyline not primarily centring on their racialised or cultural identities has only really become mainstream recently with movies like To All The Boys I've Loved Before (2018), and shows with “colour-blind casting” (which has its own issues) such as Bridgerton on Netflix.

This is where The Little Mermaid comes in. Here we have a fictional, fantasy character who is chiefly defined by what distinguishes them from humans – that is, their fish-like tail. What we have seen, though, through audiences’ reactions to this live action remake, is how much their non-character specific physical traits – such as skin colour – seem to have been made a part of the culturally normative definition of who they are. Ariel’s whiteness, along with her red hair, has somehow become canon and to subvert that is to apparently to ruin everyone’s childhoods.

Whiteness is the norm and anything that diverges from this is anathema to how things “ought” to be. The comparison in the other direction, where white actors have played BIPoC characters, lends strength to the argument that whiteness is framed as normal and neutral; the “everyman” character is white and English speaking, designed to appeal to white, Western audiences as the primary consumers of media.

To de-centralise the experience of whiteness and to shift to centring the experiences of BIPoC peoples is to take away or correct an entitlement that current audiences have. There are already trends showing that male audiences react poorly when female characters are centred in male dominated genres, such as Ms. Marvel and She-Hulk in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and that media made by and for BIPoC peoples are less likely to be consumed by white audiences, with the belief that those shows, movies, books and other media are not made “for them”. The saying “when you are accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression” comes to mind.

And this is why The Little Mermaid is so important. The crucial aspect about this remake is its aim at re-centring the story on Ariel’s “mermaidness”, where her experience as a mermaid is the focus, and not her skin colour or anything arising from that. In this way, “colour-blind casting” is beneficial, as it encourages new and non-traditional audiences and perspectives, and shows an attempt at diversity, equity and inclusivity.

Coming back to the coverage of the Queen’s passing and the singular frame through which we are all forced to view these circumstances and ceremonies, of course there is no room for alternative perspectives. Former Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull was interviewed on the ABC soon after the Queen’s death and spoke about the Queen’s commitment to tradition, saying she was “a natural conservative”, which he described as someone who “understood the importance of institutions and traditions, [but] because they are living things, they have to grow and develop in an organic way, and change with the times. But they’ve got to change in a way that preserves the institution and does not undermine it.”

This seems to be common thread at the moment – the reiteration of Britishness, of whiteness, of Western-ness as the unchallengeable, dominant norm. A dominance that keeps needing to force itself into our consciousness to proclaim its relevance and superiority, through the upholding of tradition and canon, where no divergence or alternative narrative is allowed.

I wonder whether we will continue to allow this, and have our voices and perspectives silenced. In a culture where it seems more offensive to be labelled a racist than to make a racist remark, I’m not sure when or how change will come. But now is the perfect time to start the conversation and, most importantly, to listen to perspectives other than those that have previously dominated the narrative.