How White Writers Can Be Better Allies to Writers of Color
By Natalia Sylvester | September 1, 2017 |
In the nearly three weeks since white supremacists marched in Charlottesville, Virginia, many of us have been (rightfully so) discussing ways to combat hate and dismantle systemic racism.
But the truth is, these conversations have always been urgent and necessary. And not just in that large-scale, overwhelming, how-do-we-stop-more-white-supremacists-from-marching kind of way. Our efforts to build a more just and equal society cannot be reactionary, galvanized only by tragedy. They must be happening constantly, in large and small scales, in each of our communities.
This includes our community of writers, editors, and publishers. What happened in Charlottesville is a chilling example of why diverse representation matters in the books and media we consume. It’s a chilling example of why sensitivity reads are not about censorship, but preventing harm. A book that stereotypes its characters of color and a Neo-Nazi march may be two very different things, but they exist on the same plane and slope. No one lights a torch and joins a hate-fueled march without ever having been exposed to ideas that—intentionally or not—dehumanize people who are different from them.
That being said, this is not a post about how to write the other (this, however, is a very good one). This is a post about writers of color, and the kind of help and actions we most need most from our white writer allies. To all who have felt helpless, or asked what you can do, here are some ways to be better allies, compiled by me and other writers of color whom I asked to weigh in.
- Listen to writers of color. This is a simple, but often difficult to understand, request. When we share our experiences, we are not offering them up for debate as to their validity.
- Support our books. Buy them, read them, review them, recommend them to your book club and online. Take note of how others different from you review these books. Avoid viewing and discussing works by writers of color only through the lens of your own experience.
- Question your spaces, always. I notice this so often on Facebook when threads asking for book suggestions get started. Too often, the books suggested are overwhelmingly by white writers. When this happens, consider why, and be proactive about diversifying your reading and your reading groups.
- Teach our books, and learn how to teach them. Whether you teach high school or college, creative writing or literature, make sure your syllabus reflects the vast and varied experiences of reality. During class discussions, make sure that participation isn’t skewed towards one perspective. This essay by Matthew Salesses rethinks how we lead writing workshops when the works or the writing being discussed are by POC. “When the group critiques a piece of writing from the position of a single normative reader…it demands that difference, individual difference, be erased or exaggerated.”
- Include writers of color in your festivals and conferences. If you’re invited to participate in these kinds of events, ask who else will be participating as well. If you find a panel or workshop is made up of all-white writers or publishing professionals, bring this to the organizers’ attention, and insist on change. Yes, sometimes this will mean stepping aside to make room for others.
- Don’t seek out diverse writers just to avoid bad PR. If your main motivation for inclusivity is to avoid getting called out for a lack of diversity, you will help no one. This is how POC end up being tokenized, or expected to carry the weight of speaking about race all on their own. Instead, says ire’ne lara silva, author of Blood Sugar Canto, approach your inclusivity with a focus on all that your event or publication will gain: a richness of experiences, voices and perspectives.
- Look beyond one-time events in your inclusivity efforts, and think long-term impact. Are you in publishing or academia? “Invite writers of color to be real editors, not just for special issues; to be curators, not just Black History Month curators,” says Minal Hajratwala. “Advocate for tenure track candidates of color. Invite us to be paid visiting lecturers, master classes, part of a speakers series, etc. Make sure [your] peers and classmates of color are getting equal time and fair critiques.”
- Be a mentor. Be generous with your time, knowledge, and connections. Jasmine Guillory, author of The Wedding Date, credits another POC writer with some of her first big breaks into the writing business; it’s all about helping others access spaces you are already in. “Mentor more inexperienced writers: give them advice on pitching, getting an agent, working with editors, and writing craft,” she says.
Of course, this list is just a beginning. If you are a writer of color or part of a marginalized group, what are some things you’d ask your allies to do to help you? I look forward to reading them in the comments!
[coffee]
Born in Lima, Peru, Natalia Sylvester came to the U.S. at age four. A former magazine editor, Natalia now works as a freelance writer in Austin, Texas and is a faculty member of the low-res MFA program at Regis University. Her articles have appeared in Latina Magazine, Writer’s Digest, The Writer, and NBCLatino.com. She is the author of Chasing the Sun, named the Best Debut Book of 2014 by Latinidad and chosen as a Book of the Month by the National Latino Book Club. Her second novel, Everyone Knows You Go Home, is forthcoming from Little A in 2018.
Natalia, thank you for this.
This phrase particularly stays with me: Our efforts to build a more just and equal society cannot be reactionary, galvanized only by tragedy. Yes, we have a need to consistently work against the tide of injustices that seem so ready to rise against people of color. Hopefully, the galvanization to struggle against white supremacy over these past 6 months will maintain momentum and become societal habits.
Thank you, Lisa. I hope so, too.
We sent our kids to a small Catholic school for their middle school years where the student population was approximately half white, half other ethnicities, majority Asian and Hispanic. They fit right it, being halfsies (half American, half Indian; by the way, they were always puzzled when I told them I was full American and full Indian :) I loved doing writing workshops there–many of them do not see themselves in books and they got the idea they could write their own stories. They were so eager to share! We need more POC writing their own stories and looking at careers in publishing or media to change the landscape. So yes to all your tips on helping POC to break through.
“We need more POC writing their own stories and looking at careers in publishing or media to change the landscape.”
I absolutely agree, Vijaya. I’m so glad the kids at your kids’ school have someone like you to help them see themselves in books and feel empowered to tell their stories. Thank you!
Natalia, You make such an important point about not being reactionary, and about the need for a constant effort toward a more just society. And storytelling is such a vital piece of any societal growth.
As someone who was in a Midwestern suburban elementary school when busing programs were first begun, when society pulled together in a purposeful effort to desegregate, I’d come to presume that societal progress – including the march toward racial equality – was a given. The past few years have really opened my eyes. It was an illusion. Or perhaps a delusion on my part (and I suspect to many other whites of my generation).
Whether it was complacency, apathy, or a willingness to allow it to fall to inertia, we’ve failed to maintain the momentum that the civil rights movement created. It’s time to open our eyes, and to renew that lost purposeful effort to grow, and to teach by example. Your post provides concrete steps we can all take.
Natalia,
Great suggestions for more inclusivity and how we can better encourage and support POC/diversity in the publishing world.
Currently, I’m working on a piece and have been flirting with the sexuality of the main character. I’ve outlined him as straight and have thought about making him bisexual or even gay, however, I don’t want my book haphazardly tossed into the LGBTQ section, only to be seen by 0.01% of 10% of the population — if that. And that’s the danger of books with a marginalized main character: they’re often only read by the marginalized group.
My story idea is solid and doesn’t center around his sexuality — it instead focuses on a caustic father/son relationship — but the protagonist’s pov would change drastically, and in my opinion, for the better, if he were bisexual or gay. It would put the entire story in a different light, and I want to bring that light to the mainstream audience.
The question is, would the mainstream audience read it, or even get past the synopsis if the main character were gay (or bisexual)? I believe if the story is compelling enough, it can break through that barrier between LGBTQ and mainstream if given the chance. Your suggestions for including writers of color and their unique perspectives in their books are the same kind of opportunities I’m talking about for the LGBTQ community.
Thanks for a timely article.
Oh, absolutely yes. Go for it. Think of Joseph Hansen’s novels featuring detective Dave Brandstetter. Brandstetter is gay but not anguished or histrionic (which seemed like a breakthrough when the series was published in the 70s). He’s every bit the noir detective, in fact, except he loves men.
Thanks for your input, Doug! I haven’t heard of that series, but will definitely check it out, especially since I love the genre. It might very well decide in which direction to take the character.
Hi Mike,
I’d encourage you to read the article I linked in the beginning of this post “That being said, this is not a post about how to write the other (this, however, is a very good one: https://www.buzzfeed.com/danieljoseolder/fundamentals-of-writing-the-other?utm_term=.myzMWLEWL#.qeRl8mE8m). This is a post about writers of color, and the kind of help and actions we most need most from our white writer allies. ) There are some very important things to consider in that article.
However, one of the reasons I mentioned that this is not a post about how write writers can better write POC (or marginalized people) is that there are already several great pieces about this out there, but also, more importantly, it’s time we bring our focus and attention to the needs of the POC community without centering the needs of white writers first and foremost, and without somehow making this conversation about the needs of white writers in a space in which we’re trying to discuss our own needs (which have, historically, been ignored or not prioritized as much).
This is why my first point was to ask white allies to listen first: my intent was to draw attention to the needs of those most marginalized right now. You and Doug are welcome to discuss this—and there are already many posts that have been written for exactly that—but I truly hope that you will prioritize the much-needed perspective and input of the LGBTQ community, and that you will take into account when the context and place of these discussions take away from the discussion of others’ needs.
A question I would consider, based on your post: who are you writing this story for? You suggested you’d like this book to be read widely, by a more “mainstream” audience. This a) assumes that a mainstream audience is heterosexual while in fact, mainstream is incredibly diverse because mainstream includes all of us. But the industry tailors “mainstream” to a perceived majority. And b) your question suggests you are concerned with the needs of this perceived mainstream over the needs of the LGBTQ community you are wanting to write about.
Mike and Doug, I hope that this is helpful to you, and that, in hearing this much-needed perspective of POC in the publishing world, you will be inspired to help us tell our stories and be heard, in all of the ways I’ve outlined today.
Thanks, Natalia.
Sorry if my comment detracted from your essay’s message. It seems as though I was guilty of exactly what your post described.
While reading, I found a commonality in what you were saying and the piece I’ve been working on, which (may) involve a main character from another marginalized group, and absentmindedly went off on a tangent as I explored the thought out loud (on virtual paper). It certainly wasn’t meant to be a #gaylivesmatter response to a #pocwritersmatter post, and again, my apologies if it seemed that way.
Hi Mike, we are all learning in this conversation and I’m glad you’re open to it. Inevitably, we all make mistakes along the way, but if we are willing to learn from them when someone points them out then we all benefit. My point was not so much that you made the comment about gay lives vs poc writers (I don’t feel you did) but rather, the introspection was more about your needs as a writer, rather than the needs of the marginalized groups that need, more than anything, to be supported in telling their stories. And our needs are often not prioritized the same as white readers/writers in publishing and literature, so I’d ask our white allies to resist making these conversations about themselves. Thanks, -N
Excellent advice, Natalia! I love how you’re offering simple, actionable steps for all of us (white or POC) to take.
Thank you, Kristan! I’m glad if POC can take something away from this, but mainly I’d like to emphasize that POC should not be expected to do this work alone, and I especially hope that our white allies will be inspired to take these steps we very much need from them.
Well done, Natalia! I agree with Kristan. You’re common sense approach is something everyone can manage. It goes past race, religion, ethnicity, gender… Thank you.
Thanks, Natalia. I had a fellow writer who is African American review how I handled a character. So helpful. And your comment today about suggesting works by authors of color is a great one. I appreciate this post for being timely and yet realize it should be of constant consideration for all writers.
Hi, Natalia:
Rachel Rowzell Hall once wrote a wonderful blog post about what it’s like to be virtually the only woman of color at crime writing conferences. That just shouldn’t happen, it doesn’t need to happen, it’s wrong.
This is a subject near and dear to my heart. As co-chair of a local conference I lobbied hard for several men and women of color to be included among the faculty — and not be ghettoized on an “ethnic panel” — only to have this recommendation vanish in a seemingly bottomless suggestion box.
I learned what many others before me have learned — responsibility doesn’t always come with authority or power. I’m going to keep trying, because I really admire the writers I want to invite, and I’m assured that “next year” there’s “a possibility.”
Sigh…
Thanks for addressing this important and, sadly, still necessary topic.
Thanks, David. It’s so important that authority and power be handled responsibly, as you suggest (even Spiderman’s Uncle Ben knew this!), but sadly it does not happen as often as it needs to. This is why I felt it important to write this post, and speak directly to those who are in positions of power right now (the publishing industry is 78% white) about steps that need to be taken to make real change. I truly hope that your co-organizers will rise to the responsibility and listen next time around, and not let your suggestions for a more inclusive event go ignored!
Great post, and I love the link to the 12 Fundamentals of Writing the Other, too. The call to be present and listen even when there isn’t some major disaster happening is very important. The sad truth is, however, that if there isn’t some major confrontation going on, most white people have no reason to keep thinking or writing about it.
As white writers, the call to read, read, read, and talk, talk, talk about the books we’re reading, in all genres, is one of the ways we can each raise awareness. It kind of helps keep those ideas in the forefront. I’ve noticed a powerful movement within the romance writing community to not only try to be inclusive, but to INSIST upon inclusiveness. That’s not yet translating to the publishing world, or even to writer’s panels, as David suggested above, but I hope eventually it does. More visibility leads to more visibility leads to more visibility.
Sometimes (often), just listening and showing up is very uncomfortable, but practice makes perfect. Thank you for giving us the chance to practice today.
Thank you, Barbara. You are so right that we must insist. And being uncomfortable is a necessary part of change and growth. It’s the only way we make progress.