One of the more inescapable parts about being a queer fan of media is the idea of “headcanon.” As much I tried to escape it in my early period of accepting asexuality, I found myself inevitably viewing media through this lens, both recognizing how reliant most stories are dependent on a sexual dynamic, but also how those who fall outside this camp are usually perceived. It is often true that an ace character is likely to overlap with autism stereotypes, if just because they both are reflective of a perspective outside of the norm. A person who refuses sex cannot possibly be capable of empathy, of understanding basic human ideologies.
Discovering what has been considered the “headcanon” of asexuality has been disconcerting because it’s mostly ambiguous. It is never outright specified that because this character lacks a partner or any established attraction that they must be asexual. They simply exist in this strange, isolating bubble that only helps to perpetuate the myth that aces are outsiders, misunderstood but rarely capable of deeper sympathy. For men, the few examples have included Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes, and *rolls eyes* Sheldon Cooper. Again, if these perspectives comfort you and validate your identity, that is fine. For me personally, I feel like they’re a bit limiting, not totally reflective of a perspective that I feel is modern, more complex, and in some ways truthful to how I was feeling.
This reminds me of when I first discovered Everything’s Gonna Be Okay and seeing Matilda being this excellently written autistic character. As one of the first openly autistic actors playing an actually autistic character, there was a validation that suddenly broke down the limits of neurodivergence in media. It’s the type of potential that I took moving forward with asexuality, hoping to find representation that could exist as something greater than “headcanon.” I wanted to be able to watch a performance and know, deep in my heart, that the creators intended this character this way. I wanted this for, if no other reason, than to destroy myths and actually make other consumers more empathetic towards asexuality and see it as something not to be ashamed of.
That is what makes Selah Summers in Selah and the Spades (2020) such a rich catharsis. Here was a character who defied all expectations of what I had expected asexual characters to be. They weren’t the best friend, the side character who you checked in on more for comical relief than a real character arc. She was the center of the story and, more importantly, it feels like the story feels improved because of her asexual identity. As the leader of the high school clique The Spades, she has this gift for looking past fleeting relationships that crumble those around her and seek power. She is confident, she is stylish, she is flawed. She is everything that wouldn’t necessarily differentiate her from any other allosexual character. Her sex life isn’t a big deal in her personality. As a faux-mob leader, she simply channels her interests in other directions, and it’s an amazing perspective to watch.
Given how poorly curated recommendations are in a simple Google search, I found Selah and the Spades by typing ‘asexual’ into Letterboxd. Through various reviews and recommendations, I found this movie and became immediately intrigued. After all, it had made Former President Barrack Obama’s Best of the Year list. Still, I needed one extra move to confirm that this movie was worth my time and, with some stroke of luck, I found it in an interview with director Tayarisha Poe, specifically from Black Girl Nerds, who noted:
“The more that I wrote about Selah, the more I understood her character, and the character that I was understanding was asexual. I find that characters tend to reveal themselves if you let them breathe.”
Pop the champagne and drop the confetti. At long last, there was a movie that wasn’t ashamed of labeling a character asexual. This was no “headcanon,” but a fully certified by the creator ace. While this wouldn’t automatically mean that it’s GOOD representation, it was one step more than most ace icons. This wasn’t going to be retconned like Elsa from Frozen (2013). This was always going to be ours. While Selah never says the words in the film, Poe wrote her in such a way that you couldn’t help but realize how poorly everyone else was doing.
But Selah IS good representation. In fact, her ability to feel like a normal character felt so revolutionary to me. Here she was in a teen drama, a category often cribbed in sexual exploits, and doing something different. It’s true that other characters are confused why Selah doesn’t have that kind of connection with anyone, but it’s not a moment that ostracizes her. She is a powerful figure, in control of The Spades, and able to negotiate with the other cliques with such finesse. She was a regular student, doing everything to pass her classes and maintain control of her public image.
Slowly the stereotypes fade away. The most obvious is being a Black female asexual, which is already underrepresented in media. As mentioned, most depictions are predominantly white males, themselves detached from the world. Selah isn’t detached from anything. If there’s any truth, she’s the central orbit of this high school. I understand that there may be pushback from having a Black woman be asexual, especially given early cinema’s obsession with the Mammy stereotype, but Poe doesn’t see this as a limitation. It’s merely a difference.
Other details that make her refreshing include her general sense of agency. In an early montage, she comments on how women are objectified. She focuses specifically on cheerleaders, suggesting that men will often comment on the length of their skirts or that a hair is out of place. This is itself a pushback from the objectification of teenage girls, but also reflects a key difference between asexual representation and reality. It’s the idea that since aces aren’t interested in relationships, that they are frumpy dressers and prude about anything resembling a sexual form. While Selah speaks out against objectification, the montage is also a chance to see her defend women who want to dress confidently without being judged. She even has a striking style.
There’s reason to argue that what is being discussed is more in line with aesthetic attraction. The identity of asexuality is often misunderstood because it gets lumped in with various other forms of attraction, notably romance and aesthetics. In the case of the latter, it’s the idea that someone can find others visually appealing but not want to have sex with them. This montage feels like Selah commenting on that detail, herself very fashion-forward and attracting people to notice her style, itself a “dress for success” mentality. This may make her sometimes seem like an outsider in stereotypical ways, but that is a perfect wrinkle to her identity.
One scene, in particular, helps to cement the idea that Selah MAY be asexual without any outside confirmation. When she invites friend Paloma into her room, the two turn their attention to discussing relationships. Details emerge, notably the idea that Selah claims that she’s “not interested in sex.” She also points out how uncomfortable she feels seeing other girls crying in the bathroom and that she put in considerable effort to not do things that would place her in that context. Again, the word asexual is never overtly stated but this moment still works for a couple of very specific reasons.
At least from my experience, the idea of asexuality isn’t widely discussed or necessarily as common nomenclature as lesbian or bisexual. Most references are likely more towards scientific reproduction. Of course, on a wider scale, it’s the idea of teenagers beginning to discover themselves but not necessarily having the words to describe how they feel. That in itself can feel alienating and it adds to Selah’s sense of disconnect from her peers. Nobody in the film really seems aware of what asexuality is, and that provides an air of uncertainty to this scene that works. Maybe in a few years, when Selah goes to college, the opinion will change. For now, she’s at least aware of the idea of what it symbolizes.
To backtrack, another thing that makes Selah and the Spades a compelling depiction is how it reflects her asexuality. There is the common misconception that sexual attraction is tied to romantic attraction when they’re different things (see: The Split Attraction Model). A lot of ace groups work hard to reflect the ability to have a romantic partner and live a normal life. While Selah isn’t necessarily in love with Paloma, there is a burgeoning relationship there that would suggest something more complex than the heteroromantic/asexual characters that have been seen in media. Selah potentially dating Paloma could be reflective of a lesbian dynamic and their chemistry works. There’s a platonic quality to it, more designed as a friendship that takes a few complicated turns but is never predictable.
Selah Summers feels revolutionary to me because of how normal she is as an asexual character. There is no sense of being ostracized. In fact, she has a whole string of operations within The Spades that make her resourceful. She may be imperfect and sometimes slip up, but she isn’t designed as a model citizen. She’s a teen going through familiar struggles. In some ways, she plays a subversive character, able to pep talk her allosexual friends to think beyond a relationship she deems pointless.
These are small ways where her asexuality informs her ability to look past humanity in the familiar cold-hearted cliches. Still, it’s not done as some default. She’s often seen rescuing her peers from their own emotional turmoil which, for better or worse, feels like an asexual form of agency. Whereas stories often feature allosexuals gawking at asexuals as odd, seeing an ace act out in persuading manners is cathartic, asking the audience to find reason in their perspective. Of course, Selah is more designed to be about business and order. She’s not being manipulative necessarily for selfish manners, but more to reflect that there’s more to life than dating people.
A sign of narrative success is that anyone can watch the film and not come away feeling repulsed because Selah is asexual. It’s not the defining feature of her character. Stick around long enough and there will be a complexity that isn’t often graced to characters like her. True, it’s also unique from the Black experience, but as far as sexuality it feels like a door has been blasted open. Here was the freedom to truly explore identity. Those who were concerned that asexuals lacked anything more interesting to talk about were laughed out of the room. Poe proved that most just don’t have the energy to at least paint the stereotypes into new boxes, making them more than a submissive force in amatanormativity.
Credit to Lovie Simone for bringing this character to life with such a fierce and focused energy. The entire cast does an excellent job in a story that manages to be more than a clone of Dear White People (2014). If anything, these two movies reflect how diverse the voices needing to tell these stories could be. They exist in a real world, allowing for intellectual conversations that reflect disagreement and deconstruction of stereotypes. While Selah and the Spades doesn’t feel as obvious about it, hopefully as asexuality becomes more understood and accepted that it’s recognized as at least an achievement in authenticity, making something that didn’t feel like outright fiction, the days of cold, heartless robots becoming a thing of the past.
Most importantly, in the early months of accepting myself as asexual Selah Summers was the one character who actually felt familiar. I was tired of Doctor Who types where there needed to be a nerdiness or savant quality to be accepted. I just wanted a character who felt normal, struggling with the same problems as everyone else but in their own special way. I have since seen some other characters that have spoken to me, but few have been validated by the creator in meaningful ways. If one wants to know how far asexual representation can go without having to invent hair-brained premises to make them seem interesting, please watch Selah and the Spades. Few characters have been as endearing to me, and I hope that you’ll be able to see why very quickly.
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