Christine Bruno is an award-winning actor, educator, activist and disability equity consultant for the entertainment industry. She has appeared in theatre, film and on television across the U.S. and internationally.
She sits on both the National Board and New York Local Board of SAG- AFTRA, is Chair of the NY SAG-AFTRA Performers with Disabilities (PWD) Committee, Vice Chair of the Diversity Advisory Committee, and serves on several other SAG-AFTRA Committees.
She is an Adjunct Professor at NYU Tisch School of the Arts, holds an MFA in Acting and Directing from the New School, and is a proud member of SAG-AFTRA, AEA, The Actors Studio and The Actors Center. In 2024, she was named a Disability Futures Fund Fellow by the Ford and Mellon Foundations.
Bruno spoke with Able News about the importance of authentic representation.
You’ve said disability is not a technical skill, it’s a lived experience and a culture. What does that mean in the context of acting and casting?
I first heard – “Disability is not a technical skill” — from Kitty Lunn, a wheelchair dancer and choreographer who is a longtime member of the SAG-AFTRA Performers with Disabilities Committee, which I now chair. Some years ago, it was expanded to include, “It’s a lived experience and a culture,” to help people understand that in the industry, disability isn’t something you can just “put on,” like a costume.
We’ve seen several actors win awards for appropriating disability, treating it like a skill to be learned. But disability is a lived experience and for many, a culture and an identity.
The industry now understands that blackface and other forms of appropriation are offensive and harmful, yet disability appropriation remains harder for many to grasp. That said, it’s much better than when I started working as an advocate for disability representation, but we still have a long way to go. Twenty-eight percent of the population identifies as having a disability, yet only 5% of character on TV have a disability and just 2% are played by disabled actors.
What progress have you seen in authentic representation?
There has been noticeable progress in the last seven or eight years—after decades of very little. We’ve seen real change on stage, on television and in film. Film still lags TV and theater, and we don’t quite know why.
But audiences have played a big role. They’re beginning to say, “We won’t support you if we don’t see ourselves authentically represented.” That mirrors what happened when the black community began pushing back in the ’90s when they weren’t seeing themselves represented on TV. Money talks, but it also talks in the other direction. The backlash following taking Jimmy Kimmel off the air is a perfect example.
And we’re not just seeing gains in representation; access is being built into the art itself. Artists like my dear friends, writer/performer Ryan J. Haddad and Alice Sheppard, disabled dancer/choreographer and founder of Kinetic Light, are transforming the way we make art by creating access as aesthetic—integrating access directly into performance — and audiences are responding. Ryan’s piece, Dark Disabled Stories, premiered at The Public Theater and Kinetic Light’s most recent piece, The Next TiMes, had its world premiere at New York Live Arts. Both played to packed houses and received rave reviews.
You’ve worked to connect disabled actors with casting professionals. What misconceptions or challenges do you encounter there?
I used to work for Inclusion in the Arts, a nonprofit that advocated for artists of color and disabled artists and closed in 2017. As the representation of artists of color increased and nonprofits sprang up that centered communities of color, the organization shifted its focus to disability because that’s where we saw the greatest need.
When the organization closed, there was (and is) still much work to do. As a working actor, I wasn’t interested in running a nonprofit, so I continued the work as a freelance consultant. When I started at the organization in 2005, much of my job was fielding calls from casting directors; that always included educating them about pretty much everything you can think of — language, audition protocol, scripts, arranging interpreters or accessibility support, labor law.
It used to be extremely difficult even to get disabled people “in the room.” That’s improved a lot. Most casting directors are fully on board with authentic casting. Directors can sometimes be a harder nut to crack, but the biggest hurdle continues to be producers.
New legislation related to accessibility in entertainment is currently being considered by the NYC Council. Can you tell us about that?
The bill is called Intro 1307, Accessibility in Entertainment Fund. It was introduced by Christopher Marte, councilman for the 1st District.
The bill is the brainchild of retired casting director, Rosalie Joseph, who has long championed disabled artists. After years of failed efforts by many to get producers to build funds into their budgets for access and accommodations, Rosalie and her colleague, casting director Eric Goldberg, worked with Councilman Marte to draft the legislation. The legislation charges the city to establish a dedicated accessibility fund that removes barriers to hiring disabled talent.
In October, we showed up in full force — in person, on Zoom and via written testimony — to a City Council hearing to provide testimony in support of the bill. Actor Woody Harrelson and Broadway director Sam Gold, plus working disabled artists and allies, myself included, provided powerful testimony.
What gives you hope for the future of authentic disability representation on stage and screen?
The bill gives me huge hope, at least for New York City. If it passes, our hope is that other markets will follow.
Producers often assume accommodations are expensive, but most cost between $0 and $1,500. That’s been the biggest barrier. If we can remove that misconception, it’ll be a game changer. I think we’ll see a real influx of disabled talent in front of and behind the camera, onstage and backstage.
I’m extremely proud of my advocacy and honored to represent my community, but I didn’t become an artist to be an activist. The lack of access forced many of us to become both our own advocates, as well as advocates for others. Too often, we’re also expected to be free consultants in the rehearsal room. These are two separate jobs. I would love for all of us to be able to just show up and be an artist.
What do you hope audiences take away from authentic representation?
Art is about connection and the best art represents our shared humanity.
Authentic representation is just the first step. Ultimately, I want audiences to recognize that disabled artists can play any role—teachers, parents, doctors, anyone —because we are everyone.
I have always trusted the audience. They’re infinitely smarter than producers give them credit for. They may not always be able to articulate it, but they can feel whether something is authentic.
The more audiences demand authenticity, the more the industry WILL listen. That’s when we’ll see sustainable and lasting change.
Until then, we continue to fight the good fight!