In second grade, one of my friends had a lunch box with five Disney movie characters: fairies Tinker Bell, Silvermist, Rosetta, Fawn and Iridessa. In our trio, we would each claim one of the characters on the lunch box every lunch. In an ideal world, my preferred fairy was Silvermist–my favorite color was blue. But I had to be Iridessa because her skin color was closest to mine. I had an obligation to not only choose her but also be glad to be her.

As children, we internalized race and spotted the differences among our peers quickly and then innocently called them out.

I was often typecast as Princess Jasmine because she was the so-called “Indian Princess.” But Jasmine isn’t Indian, she’s Arab. I loved Jasmine–and still do–but she was never someone I connected with on a cultural level, as everyone else thought I should.

Disney is just a part of the bigger problem. The lack of South Asian representation in my childhood made me feel out of place among my friends. I couldn’t understand why people who looked like me weren’t on the screens I was watching.

The ones that were present in Western cinema were racist caricatures. For instance, in the popular Disney Channel cartoon, “Phineas and Ferb,” the character Baljeet is known for his accent, math proficiency and being bullied by Buford.

No other recurring character was always bullied, so why is the Indian kid singled out? Why is he the only character who’s studying all the time? Even worse, why does he have the “funny” accent?

Even if inadvertently malicious, these stereotypes show children that Indians are like Baljeet: weak nerds. Baljeet’s character is two-dimensional in showing the diversity of South Asian culture and growing up in the United States.

The Disney TV show “Jessie” shows Ravi buckling under preconceived notions of Indian people. He speaks with an Indian accent, and his character is intended to be made fun of, suffering the brunt of being different.

The common denominator here lies in the ever-present accent weaponized to mock immigrants. It is especially notable because these actors don’t even naturally have Indian accents.

Despite the bad examples, some mainstream representations deviated from the Baljeet/Ravi stereotype. Kelly, Mindy Kaling’s character from “The Office,” is an Indian character who isn’t studious and doesn’t use a stereotypical accent. The writing team (which included Kaling) did not differentiate her personality based on her race.

That’s the goal: mainstream American media needs to do a better job of appreciating South Asian culture and not tokenizing it for the jokes.

Today, I see more South Asian representation on screen than ever before. Season two of “Bridgerton” showcased an Indian main character without overemphasizing their Indian accent, and still showed other parts of Indian culture. This is inclusivity done right.

Also, Netflix’s series “Never Have I Ever” tells a far more compelling story of being Indian-American–something that the aforementioned shows from my childhood lack.

With new shows, movies and South Asian actors entering popular media, I look forward to being a witness to positive changes in the landscape of representation and inclusivity. May the young, impressionable South Asian kids grow up without the stereotypical and racist characters that outlined my childhood.