The Future of Women in Entertainment

Photos by Chris Riscen


Building a Space of One’s Own


Jahana Rahman (left) and Samantha Smart (right), the vice president and president of AWE at CSUN. (Chris Riscen | Scene Magazine)

Sexism, misogyny, and the marginalization of women in entertainment is a systemic issue not limited to macro levels of society. They lurk in corners of college classrooms and extracurricular clubs, thought to be safe communities where those emerging in the field of entertainment first turn to for support. However, women and nonbinary people who face these systems of oppression soon turn away from those insidious environments, perpetuated by students and educators alike. 

The Alliance of Women in Entertainment, known as AWE, emerged at CSUN in March 2020 as an organization that seeks to uplift and empower women and nonbinary people in the entertainment industry. Through guest speaker events, networking workshops, movie screenings, project fundraisers, and more, AWE encourages the open expression of opinions and provides opportunities for members to grow and succeed in their future careers. 

“Before [AWE], who do you even bring that up to? You don’t talk about it. That’s just how it is,” shared Jahana Rahman, 20, vice president and co-founder of AWE. “It got us feeling that we didn’t have a space on campus. So why not create one?” 

Despite continuous efforts to champion for representation and diversity, entertainment industries all around the world – film, television, music, art, theater – remain overwhelmingly white and overwhelmingly male. 

The highly scrutinized Hollywood film industry is an example of the egregious gender gaps and glass ceilings that exist for women and especially women of color. In the top 100 grossing films of the year, women comprised 35% of lead roles in front of the camera and 25% of roles behind the camera, according to a 2021 study by the Center of the Study of Women in Television and Film. During the internationally televised Academy Awards held this March, New Zealand director Jane Campion became only the third woman in the ceremony’s 93-years of existence to win the Best Directing Award. 

“There have been times when I’ve felt underestimated. In my beginning production class at community college, none of the guys invited me onto their sets,” said screenwriting major and member of AWE, Abby Sciortino. “I don’t think it was because they thought I was incapable; I think it was because they didn’t want to embarrass themselves in front of a girl.” 

Coming to CSUN, there seemed to be hope that things would be different. But when cycles of discrimination persisted, Rahman and AWE co-founder Wendy Young decided that enough is enough. They rallied together a board of officers equally committed to the cause of AWE, collectively braving the COVID-19 pandemic and personal struggles with online learning to push the club forward. 

Despite the physical separation from their member base due to remote learning, AWE’s thought-provoking programming not only bolstered the work of women artists, but also provided connections that their community, now starved for social interaction, desired. 

“It was an opportunity to connect with people from school with similar interests,” explains Sciortino, who was an active participant of AWE during its foundational stages. “The club was really formed as a reaction to marginalization, so it was very intentional about passing the mic and making sure everyone got to share their perspective.” 

“Unfortunately, our name can deter potential members of a certain gender identity,” remarked Sam Smart, 20, the former director of marketing and current president, about their membership. “We’re a feminist club. We’re not fighting men; we’re fighting the patriarchy.” 

Today, the organization boasts a 500-strong following on Instagram and a tightknit community that revels in participating, collaborating, and learning. Smart took over the helm of AWE in 2021, which has noticeably shifted under her leadership. Her love and passion for the organization fuels its current direction. 

“[AWE] has really deepened my relationships and given a lot more value to my time at CSUN,” Smart reflectively stated. “It was important to me, and I hope that I can make it important to other people too.” 

As the campus slowly returns to a semblance of normalcy with the increasing implementation of in-person classes, Smart recognized that AWE needs to change along with the tides. 

“What place does the club really have?” she asked rhetorically. “What we ultimately concluded on was utilizing AWE as a fundraising source. Becoming a fundraising club where we can give money to people who need it, to make the projects that align morally with our organization.” 

It got us feeling that we didn’t have a space on campus. So why not create one?
— Jahana Rahman

Funding projects has been on AWE’s docket since its founding, truly coming into fruition in Spring 2022 with the production of “Reflection,” the first AWE-funded short film. The horror short film about queer identity, created by queer women, is the first CSUN student production by an entirely non-male crew. It is AWE’s effort to provide tangible opportunities for members to acquire skills and gain experience, in this case with the practice of filmmaking. 

“This whole process of creating a short film that is literally my story was something I've never gotten to do,” said the writer of “Reflection,” Tessa Nelson, 20. “Even when I've written scripts before, it always had to either fit the mold of what the school wanted or that there was a bunch of different voices telling me to change things.”

“I haven’t really had many opportunities to do filmmaking in high school. And now, I’m in my second semester and I’m already working with them on a film! It’s something that’s really going to help,” admitted Clark, a new member of the organization and production assistant on the film. 

While AWE has managed to provide so much value to those in the CSUN community, how has it contributed to the lives of the two leaders? Well, first of all, Smart and Rahman both live together. 

“We set hours for ourselves, like we can only talk about AWE from 9 to 6, so we have boundaries. But we never follow that!” laughed Smart. “At least with Jahana and I, it’s just a part of us.” 

Peeking behind the screen, one may find two well-spoken, driven, bubbly women who are both full-time students with outside jobs and internships, juggling multiple responsibilities on a daily basis. When asked about challenges balancing all those commitments, both Rahman and Smart are optimistic. Their experiences with student leadership, on the other hand, are a little more complicated. 

“The difficult part about being a leader in general is that every single day, you put yourself out there and you make decisions that people are going to disagree with,” Rahman confessed. “I didn’t know that going into being a student leader means that you’re being vulnerable every day.”

But through those challenges, AWE has provided them with a platform to develop and improve themselves in more ways than one. 

We’re a feminist club. We’re not fighting men; we’re fighting the patriarchy.
— Samantha Smart

“It’s taken me a long time to get to the point where I feel like I can learn from my mistakes and not be ashamed of them,” acknowledged Rahman, who has also struggled with her physical health. “I’ve come out of it knowing myself a little bit better, knowing my weaknesses a bit better but also my strengths. And learning how to deal with criticism and negativity and being okay with the fact that I’m not a perfect human being.” 

In terms of community uplift and empowerment, AWE is already seeing success in its members’ reflections about the organization. The word “space” surfaces repeatedly throughout conversations, illuminating the importance of having settings aside from the dominant culture, both physical and symbolic, for marginalized groups. 

“If this is a sample size of what all of our futures are going to look like, it makes me feel more comfortable in going into future professions because the same space can still exist if it can exist here,” said Taylor Clark, film provisional major and AWE member. 

“On a college campus, nothing existed like it,” concluded Smart in response to a question about AWE’s legacy. “In terms of what we had immediate access to, it’s a new concept. It’s given me – and I think others – the ability to envision what wasn’t previously possible. Theoretically, its sheer existence is an opposing force to things that we stand against, in addition to the more literal community. That’s what AWE is. It’s the future, and it’s a possibility for what we hope for and strive for.”