The search for the face behind Mavis Beacon learns to type

Jazmin Jones knows what she did. “When you’re online, there’s this idea of ​​trolling,” Jones, the director behind Looking for Mavis Beaconsaid during a recent panel for her new documentary. “For this project, we take some things incredibly seriously … and other things we troll. We’re trolling this idea of ​​a detective because we’re also, like, ACAB.”

Her trolling was for a good reason, though. Jones and fellow filmmaker Olivia Mckayla Ross did it in hopes of finding the woman behind Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing.

The popular educational tool was released in 1987 by The Software Toolworks, a California-based video game and software company that produced educational chess, reading and math games. Mavis, the game’s de facto “mascot,” is a Black woman dressed in professional attire and a slicked-back bun. Although Mavis Beacon wasn’t a real person, Jones and Ross say she was one of the first examples of Black representation they saw in the tech world. Looking for Mavis Beaconwhich opened in New York City on August 30 and is rolling out to other cities in September, is an attempt to unravel the story behind the face that appeared on the tool’s packaging and later as part of its interface.

The film sees the duo setting up a detective room, conversing over FaceTime, running up to people on the street, and even tracking down a family member connected to the ever-elusive Mavis. But the journey of their search raised another question they didn’t initially anticipate: what are the implications of sexism, racism, privacy, and exploitation in a world where you can present yourself however you want?

Using computer screen footage, in-depth analysis of archival footage and interviews, the noir-style documentary reveals that Mavis Beacon is actually Renée L’Espérance, a black model from Haiti who was paid $500 for her likeness with no royalties, despite the program selling millions of copies.

Creating artificial likenesses of people from marginalized groups is not unique to Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing. Major brands have used these likenesses to generate both awareness and revenue without spreading that success to the real people behind the inspiration.

“Lil Miquela,” an AI-generated music artist with some 2.5 million Instagram followers, is appearing in commercials for BMW. MSI, which recently partnered with the artificial influencer to promote an OLED monitor, noted on a webpage touting the collaboration that Lil’ Miquela has “a rich heritage of half-Brazilian and half-Spanish roots.” The AI ​​bot reportedly makes millions of dollars a year as an influencer. Meanwhile, human BIPOC social media influencers report earning up to 67 percent less than white influencers per Instagram post, according to findings released last year by public relations firm MSL Group.

Another example is Shudu Gram, who, according to her Instagram account, is known as the world’s first digital supermodel. Launched in 2017, Shudu is tall and slender with very dark skin. She looks even more human than Lil Miquela, but she’s not. At a time when black models still face challenges in the fashion industry, Gram has appeared in Vogue Czechoslovakia, collaborated with Sony Pictures, and amassed 239,000 followers on Instagram.