Netflix’s “Elite” Catalogs an Inclusive Kaleidoscope 

By the time I turned eight, I had boyfriends and girlfriends. Everything went well until I used the wrong pronoun in a love letter to Jennifer, because I was cheating on her with Brandon next door. Growing up Pansexual and Latino is like being a roller-skating clumsy mosquito, who also listens to Juan-Gabriel. As I got older, my relationships turned sour, rife with delirium, and repression. My self-courage was initially tainted by Telenovelas that I often watched with my mom. The cliches and themes of these Telenovelas made me realize my relationships weren’t considered “okay”. The thing about Telenovelas is once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. For instance, I can’t think of a single Latinx person who hasn’t seen the most acclaimed telenovela Rubí.  

The ‘novela’ centers on an underprivileged girl set on marrying a rich man in her pueblo. The female dynamics of her character center a damsel preserving novelty, greed, and inferiority. The male dynamics are based on stern virility, obstinate work ethics, and superiority. At length, the flat characters somehow managed to influence me, and I developed an assumption that life is only worth living if it’s based on endless strife and choices, including gender and sexuality.  

Once I turned twenty, I came out to my family as gender and sexually fluid. While I was met with acceptance and “I knew its’!”, something still felt odd. I still have never seen my kind of story depicted in mainstream media yet. While I love the sense of inclusion from Netflix’s LGBTQ category, overall, I felt the overwhelming repetitive, cliché persona from the characters presented. Fast forward through three months of quarantine and a handful of my friends are praising Elite, A Spanish Netflix series released on October 5th, 2018, as a must-watch. My expectations were low given that the cover showed a twenty-something dressed in a private school uniform. Nevertheless, I was, and still am, pleasantly surprised at the show’s ability to explore the nuanced, complexities of identity, and gender.  

Elite takes place at a private high school, Las Encinas, in Spain, Madrid. The school is welcoming new-incomer students from a less-privileged public school that burned down due to corporate capitalist fatalities and rigged regional politics. The show follows a group of twelve students and their homelife amid addictions, recreational drug use, distant-parents, money, and sex.  

The first Capitulo, Welcome, introduces the audience to Ander, a competitive swimmer torn by the pressure of his success. Ander expresses angst and does what most upset teenagers do, ask around the school for the local drug dealer. In the afternoon, he meets the dealer at a dock and purchases some weed. Ultimately, he absolves his repression by posting faceless pictures on a Grindr-esque app. Soon he starts getting hits and meets up with an anonymous discreet by the dock. To his surprise, it’s the Las Encinas drug supplier. His name is, coincidentally, Omar. He is Muslim, and his parents are as traditional as it gets. Ander’s story continues with his parent’s open acceptance once he opens up. This also serves as a political commentary of sorts. Ander’s family has a lot of money, i.e. resources, and are more willing to accept him because they can afford to do so. However, Omar’s story is paved with inevitable strife as his parents struggle to keep afloat their grocery store. Once he opens up, he is exiled from his family and moves in with Ander. However, his character struggles with putting forth his desires into reality. He starts to dress more femininely, and runs into arguments with Ander because he claims to be unrecognizable. Yet, in the face of many challenges, as they come out to themselves, friends, and family, Ander and Omar eventually develop a loving relationship with one another. 

The third Capitulo, Saturday Night, introduces the audience to a polygamous dynamic. We meet Carla and Leopoldo, Polo for short, who are in a heterosexual relationship but are in a sexual limbo. At this point, they can either spice up their relationship or call it quits. Also, Polo is the son of two mothers, which is an absolute win within itself. Polo is interested in one of the newcomers, Christian, and expresses to Carla that she should lure him in. She succeeds and they end up exploring a polygamous, symbiotic, sexual relationship. At first, Christian was met with hesitation, but they all conjured a sense of love for one another. I think their experience modernizes the typical dichotomy of Latinx culture, which assumes one partner for life, celibacy, and shames divorce.   

While the series can dip into Hollywood clichés for rich kid drama at times, ultimately, this show does an incredible job of projecting characters with dignity and complexity. Our current political and social climate bolsters media saturation in a way never seen before. I can only hope that content creators will use this series as an example to implore an inclusive collective consciousness. I’m sure eight-year-old me would have been floored with excitement at their depiction of fluid realities.