By Shreya Vaidhyanathan, Opinion Editor

Mindy Kaling is a phenomenon. From writing for “The Office” to developing “The Mindy Project” to executive producing and starring in “Velma,” not to mention receiving six Emmy nominations, her resume is more than impressive. More than that, Kaling is a pioneer for brown women and South Asian representation in the film industry. She has made space for brown writers and producers everywhere, especially at her production company Kaling International, which she launched with the goal of “telling stories about the inner lives of women of color that have long been missing from TV,” according to Time Magazine.

So, what went wrong with her brown characters on screen?

Within 30 seconds of college freshman Bela Malhotra’s debut in “The Sex Lives of College Girls,” she informs the audience of her high school woes. Malhotra announces that she is no longer an “Indian loser with cystic acne, sweaty armpits and glasses.” In the Netflix show “Never Have I Ever,” protagonist Devi Vishwakumar takes a scissor to her “barbershop floor” arm hair in the first scene of the show. Most recently in “Velma,” two police officers joke about South Asian Velma’s size and “hairy gorilla arms.”

The same jokes about brown girls’ appearances that seem to emerge in every show with a South Asian character are stale and worn out. A study at University of Illinois focuses on the damaging impacts of “misrecognition” on the development of younger brown and Black girls, which the study defines as “having a wide range of raced and gendered tropes projected onto their bodies.” The struggles that racial stereotyping causes in girls of color prove that it is high time to let go of the “ugly brown girl” trope.

This isn’t to say that current brown representation is all bad, or that good representation must always be positive. The mere existence of characters like Devi and Bela is a step in the right direction for Hollywood and small-screen media. However, we must be aware that these characters perpetuate the “Indian loser” stereotype and treat their brownness as something to overcome, and how characters’ actions can influence the self-image of brown girls.

Pinning this problem squarely on Kaling is out of the question; we cannot attribute racism and microaggressions on TV to a single creator. After all, South Asian comedians like Lilly Singh and Russell Peters have been making jokes about their cultures since the beginning of their careers, possibly out of a need to satirize their experiences before someone else does. Brown creators may feel like they have to feed into stereotypes in their work as a result of the racism and backlash they have experienced in their own lives.

The portrayal of brown women in the media was riddled with issues long before Kaling was involved in the conversation, and her inclusion in Hollywood as more than a diversity hire is a significant measure for South Asians in the entertainment industry. Now more than ever, we must think critically about work produced by brown creators, and take into account all the messaging that comes from how brown characters are presented on TV. Consider supporting more positive representation like season 2 of “Bridgerton” on Netflix and being more conscious about the content you consume. Allowing the “ugly brown girl” and “Indian loser” tropes to drag on means allowing the misrepresentation and misrecognition of South Asians to persist, a disservice to both audiences and brown creators themselves.

Shreya Vaidhyanathan can be reached at [email protected].