When D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai stepped onto the red carpet at the 2024 Emmy Awards, he carried more than the hope of a historic win. The 22-year-old Oji-Cree First Nations actor, nominated for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series for his role as Bear Smallhill in FX’s Reservation Dogs, had painted a red handprint across his mouth – a silent, searing statement about an epidemic that has claimed thousands of Indigenous women across North America and remains largely invisible to mainstream society.
The image was arresting: a young man in a classic Armani suit, accessorised with jewellery by Indigenous designer Lionel Thundercloud, his face marked by a symbol that refused to let the glamour of the evening obscure a crisis. In that single gesture, Woon-A-Tai transformed one of television’s most visible platforms into a site of protest, ensuring that the conversation around his nomination – and the show’s five Emmy nods – extended far beyond acting categories and acceptance speeches.
The Symbol and Its Meaning
The red handprint has become the defining symbol of the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) movement. It represents the voices stolen from Indigenous women, girls, and Two-Spirit individuals by violence – voices that are silenced, ignored, or dismissed by the systems that should protect them. The hand over the mouth speaks to the suppression of testimony, the erasure of suffering, and the complicity of indifference.
“This epidemic has been ignored for far too long and has devastated the lives of countless Indigenous people,” Woon-A-Tai told Vogue on the night of the ceremony. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to make this statement, and when I received the Emmy nomination, I felt an obligation to use the opportunity to spark these conversations.”
The statistics behind the symbol are staggering. A 2016 study by the National Institute of Justice found that more than 84% of Indigenous women have experienced violence in their lifetime. According to the National Indigenous Women’s Resource Center, murder is the third leading cause of death for Indigenous women. In Canada, the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls concluded in 2019 that the violence constitutes a “Canadian genocide.” Yet despite these findings, the issue remains underreported, underfunded, and politically marginalised.
Woon-A-Tai’s decision to wear the symbol on television’s biggest night was not impulsive. He had been waiting for the right platform, and the Emmy nomination – with its global audience and cultural significance – provided one. The red handprint, achieved using products from Cheekbone Beauty, an Indigenous-owned brand, was also an act of economic solidarity, directing attention and revenue toward Indigenous enterprise.
Reservation Dogs: Breaking Barriers
The context of Woon-A-Tai’s statement matters as much as the statement itself. Reservation Dogs, created by Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi, was the first American television series to feature an all-Indigenous writers’ room, directors’ room, and main cast. The show followed four teenagers on an Oklahoma reservation navigating grief, identity, and the complexities of contemporary Indigenous life – all rendered with humour, warmth, and an authenticity that defied decades of stereotypical representation.
For three seasons, the series demonstrated that Indigenous stories could be both commercially successful and critically acclaimed. It won a Peabody Award, multiple Independent Spirit Awards, and accumulated a devoted following. Yet the Television Academy had largely overlooked it – until its final season, when it received five Emmy nominations, including Outstanding Comedy Series.
Woon-A-Tai was the only actor from the show to receive an individual nomination. He joined Lily Gladstone (Under the Bridge) and Kali Reis (True Detective: Night Country) as the first Indigenous actors nominated in acting categories in 17 years. The significance of this representation cannot be overstated. For generations, Indigenous actors have been confined to stereotypical roles – the noble savage, the mystical elder, the tragic victim. Reservation Dogs offered characters who were complex, contemporary, and fully human.
“When you put a bunch of Native Americans in one room together and give them a camera and some dialogue, they will make the best show,” Woon-A-Tai said. His confidence was not misplaced. The series proved that the bottleneck in Indigenous representation was never a lack of talent or stories – it was a lack of opportunity.
The Weight of Representation
Woon-A-Tai has spoken candidly about the pressure of being a visible representative for his community. “I don’t know what an Emmy Award will really do for stopping issues that we face on a daily basis,” he told the Canadian Press days before the ceremony. “It just gives us hope. It gives hope to a kid on a reservation that they could also be on that stage and do it too, and they can.”
This tension – between the symbolic power of recognition and the material reality of ongoing struggle – is central to the experience of Indigenous artists in mainstream media. Awards do not feed families, heal communities, or reform justice systems. But they do something else: they normalise the presence of Indigenous people in spaces from which they have been historically excluded. They create visibility. And visibility, as Woon-A-Tai’s red handprint demonstrated, can be leveraged into advocacy.
The actor’s commitment to Indigenous storytelling extends beyond Reservation Dogs. He has expressed interest in continuing to work on projects that centre Indigenous perspectives, noting that the show opened a door that he hopes will remain open. “There is a lot of cool, indigenous-led storytelling coming out soon,” he said, “and hopefully there will be a lot more people to interview.”
A Personal Journey
Behind the public statement lies a personal story of identity and belonging. Born in Toronto to parents of Anishinaabe, Guyanese, and German descent, Woon-A-Tai grew up navigating multiple cultural worlds. His character, Bear Smallhill, reflects this complexity – a young man searching for purpose and connection in a community shaped by both tradition and displacement.
Woon-A-Tai has described Bear as a representation of “a good portion of the Native community in urban” settings – a character whose struggles with self-worth, masculinity, and belonging resonate far beyond the specific geography of the show. The fact that such a character could be written, performed, and received by a mainstream audience is itself a milestone.
The actor’s red carpet moment was also a personal act of remembrance. “I did this for those who ain’t here, not 4 me, not 4 y’all,” he wrote on Instagram, accompanying a photo from the evening. The gesture was not self-promotion. It was solidarity – rooted in the understanding that visibility carries responsibility, and that the privilege of a platform must be used in service of those who lack one.
The Broader Impact
Woon-A-Tai’s statement at the Emmys contributed to a growing movement of Indigenous artists using mainstream platforms to advocate for social justice. Singer and actress Auli’i Cravalho wore a red handprint to a red carpet event the previous year, and the symbol has appeared at protests, marches, and cultural events across North America. Each public instance of its use reinforces the message and expands its reach.
The entertainment industry’s relationship with Indigenous representation remains uneven. Progress has been made – Reservation Dogs, Rutherford Falls, Prey, and other projects have demonstrated both commercial viability and critical appeal. But these successes exist against a backdrop of persistent underrepresentation, stereotypical casting, and the systemic exclusion of Indigenous creators from positions of creative and financial control.
Woon-A-Tai’s red handprint was a reminder that representation is not an end in itself. It is a means – a tool for amplifying voices that have been marginalised for centuries. The question is not whether the gesture was effective. It was. The question is whether the industry, and the audience, will follow through on the conversations it started.
A Legacy in Motion
At 22, D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai has already achieved what many actors never do: a historic nomination, a platform for advocacy, and a body of work that has changed the cultural landscape. But his most important contribution may be the one he is still making – the insistence that Indigenous stories be told by Indigenous people, on their own terms, with the complexity and dignity they deserve.
The red handprint on his face at the Emmys was not a costume. It was a commitment. And in a ceremony obsessed with performance, it was the most authentic moment of the night.
For more on Indigenous representation in media, read our feature on the evolution of Indigenous storytelling in television and the role of art in social justice movements.
