Everyone talks about diversity in TV — but what about accent diversity?

I left the offices of Darrall Macqueen in Borough Market in 2005 pretending I was fine — but inside, I was I was shaken. My crime? Speaking English with an accent.

In 2005, I worked as a freelance production secretary for a London-based children’s TV company called Darrall Macqueen. I was young, sweet-natured, and eager to prove myself in a competitive industry.

What happened there has stayed with me for 20 years — because I believe it was a clear case of accent discrimination — in other words, accentism.

One of the founders, a lady called Maddy, once asked me in her subtle, cutting way: “Do people in your country all speak as fast as you do?” My English was perfectly good — I had studied an English degree and then done a master’s at Goldsmiths College in London. I had come to the UK as a university student, not as a child, so I still carried a little bit of an accent. My English was grammatically correct and clear. In fact, I remember receiving emails from some senior team members — native speakers — who confused “their” with “there” and “your” with “you’re.” Considering my accent bothered them, their spelling obviously didn’t as much.

I was talented, capable, and hardworking — but in that office, for the brief period I was there, my accent became a mark against me.

There were other remarks too, always from the female founder — things like “You speak so fast,” “Sorry, what?” or “I didn’t catch that,” along with many other little moments of ignoring or undermining me — things you notice when they always come from the same person. Nobody else ever mentioned my accent; it was her, consistently, and it soon became clear where the problem lay. Before then, I had been a secretary on a programme titled The Gunpowder Plot for ITV with Richard Hammond, where I organised a trip and shoot for the cast and crew in both Spain and the UK — and everything went smoothly. My work as a production secretary was solid, and no one had ever complained about it. The only issue, it seemed in that company, was my accent.

She would always judge me as soon as I opened my mouth, speaking with that polished, upper‑crust poise that cloaked quiet disapproval behind a polite smile, chipping away at my confidence each time I spoke.

Out of the blue, one morning, the head of production called me into her office. I don’t remember exactly how long I had been working there, but I still had plenty of my freelance contract left. She gave me a vague excuse for letting me go. I accepted it politely and in good nature. I remember she even thanked me for taking it so well. But immediately, as they do, she proceeded to accompany me to my desk to collect my things and take me to the door. They couldn’t get rid of me fast enough — despite the hypocritical niceties.

I felt strongly that the head of production was delivering Maddy’s decision, rather than making it herself. The remarks about my accent weren’t random; they reflected a deeper bias. And I paid the price for it.

I remember leaving their Borough Market offices that day, pretending I was fine. Inside, though, I knew it would be difficult to get another job in TV — because I feared there would always be “another Maddy.”

I was left without a job, struggling in an expensive city, disposable in their eyes. I was just the Other — that awful box I had to tick a few times when applying for jobs. London is a diverse city, full of talent and hard work, and I was there contributing and dreaming of becoming a film director — but this incident reminded me how prejudices could still shape opportunities.

And it wasn’t just me. A few years earlier, Barbara Serra — now a respected presenter on Sky News — faced the same prejudice. In 2003, she was a newsreader for BBC London, but management took her off air after viewers complained about her foreign accent. Imagine that: a talented journalist being sidelined, not because of her ability, but because her voice didn’t fit the narrow idea of what “news” should sound like. Barbara has written about this experience in her Substack newsletter “News with a foreign accent”, and I admire how she has risen above it, continuing her career with dignity and elegance. Seeing her today on Sky is a reminder that resilience and talent can shine through bias.

Barbara makes an important point: in the UK, diversity and inclusion are widely discussed, but in practice, they often fall short. Many people on air may have ‘foreign’ names — but if you listen closely, they all speak with perfect native accents. That gives them privilege. As Barbara wrote:

“There are plenty of people on-air with ‘foreign’ names… But if you hear them speak, they all pass as native Britons — probably because the majority of them are exactly that. And if they were born and brought up in the UK they’re not going to have the lived experience of having moved here as adults.”

Barbara’s point goes to the heart of the issue: the whole point of diversity is fairness and true representation — and that must include accent, heritage, and lived experience. In a city like London, rich with cultures and voices, this matters even more. Yet millions of viewers — including those born abroad who pay for TV — remain invisible.”

While for the kids’ production company life carried on as business as usual. They even won some BAFTAs, and I’m sure the senior lady who disliked the way I spoke was patted on the back a lot. For them, I was just a forgotten name in the day-to-day. Yet here I am, twenty years later, still remembering how they made me feel. My power now comes from telling my story. Whether they liked it or not, whether they intended it or not, my experience remains. For them, the business moved on. For me, the memory stayed — and it took 20 years to write about it. Maybe I was even ashamed I was sacked for speaking English with an accent. Which, of course, now I am not.

Thankfully, I didn’t change the way I speak. I took elocution lessons and could produce RP sounds, but it felt fake and unnatural. One of my favourite artists, Marina Abramović, has an accent I love — it gives her all her character and charisma. That’s the kind of confidence I’ve kept with me. My English has always served me well, and I have even written for major papers like The Telegraph, The Independent and Metro.

Even though the Darrall Macqueen brief experience was awful, it didn’t stop me from pursuing my career. Years later, I appeared on BBC Victoria Derbyshire discussing the Oscars, speaking with the accent that is authentically me. Victoria was kind and welcoming — she made a point of learning my name and pronouncing it correctly before we went on air.

I’m writing this because what happened to me in 2005 wasn’t just about me. It was part of a bigger problem: how accentism closes doors, shapes careers, and limits representation on screen. I hope things have changed since then — but I can’t forget how it felt to be silenced for the way I spoke.

This is my personal account of my experiences and reflections. Any interpretations are my own, and the events described here reflect my truth.