Writing The Other
I wrote this post for a community forum and wanted to share it here:
Writing the Other.
Why does this matter? Why should white straight storytellers include characters who aren't like them when they can easily get away with not doing so, particularly in speculative fiction? Well they're certainly under no obligation to do so but I think lack of diversity is far less realistic than any space alien or dragon. The truth is that the world is not comprised of only people who look and think like you and if you think that those are the only people who count and matter, then that's a sad reflection on you not only as a myopic writer but as a human being and a pitiful excuse of one at that. After all those who are different (The Other) aren't looked at as equals and they tend to be treated as 3/5 of a person.
In my stories, diversity is not an obligation or a chore, it's a matter of fact non-issue. White heterosexual characters are not the default characters. In my stories, women are on equal footing with men, POCs are frequently in leading and vital roles and LGBTs are every bit of the hardcore badasses as their cis-gendered heterosexual peers.
And if RaceFail (and the subsequent related fails thereof) has taught us one thing is that these issues aren't going away and it's in a writer's best interest to be knowledgeable of said issues as audiences are becoming more vocal (and rightfully so) about being limited to minor stereotypical boxed-in roles and denigrated entirely. To ignore them out of hubris could potentially be very detrimental to one's career as we've seen with countless authors during the RaceFail saga.
I've discussed at length in the past why I support exceptional minority media and why our stories are crucial to cultural and societial progress. But I also realize there are legions and legions of the clueless who don't get it. Which perplexes me, especially in fandom considering that one would think that with all of the stories about the struggle and the minority experience (X-Men anyone?), then surely fandom would be the last place you would see such rampant bigotry and classic examples of institutional oppression. But such is the irony that is Diversity Fail.
"Well I just won't write about The Other again, that'll show them." or "You're damned if you do and you're damned if you don't, so what's the point?"
Would you say the same if a woman explained to you why your female character is wrong? What if a Brit critiqued your piece and explained why certain aspects your story which is set in London were problematic? Would you vow never to write about Jolly Ole England again or would you take the feedback and try to get it right in the future. So the question isn't what's the point, but what is your real issue?
So for those of you who are still lost, allow me, a storyteller and a double minority, to give you a few pointers (among many) on writing The Other. Obviously there are many schools of thoughts and these aren't the end all be all directives but it's definitely a solid start.
1. Our Minority Is Not Our Entire Identity
Any self-respecting minority will tell you that we do not wrap our entire identity in our race, gender, orientation, etc. Yes, we are proud of who we are and yes, our culture and experiences contribute to our overall character (just as the same goes for straight white people). Yes I'm an LGBT and a POC and my experiences from both have contributed to the man I am today. But I'm also a Catholic, a liberal, an artist, a writer, and a comic book geek. I love music, my favorite genre is alternative rock. I'm left-handed. I've been a journalist and a college professor. Are you getting it? I'm a three-dimensional complex and complicated character who happens to be a minority not a minority whose whole identity is wrapped up in being a minority. Characters that have gotten this right for reference: Willow Rosenberg, Dr. Martha Jones, Xena, Thom Creed, Jack Harkness, to a name a few.
2. We Are Not A Monolithic People
We are not the Borg Collective. Just as white people come in all ranges, the same goes for women, POCs, LGBTs, etc. Just as you handle your heterosexual white protagonists with the utmost respectability when fleshing out their internal conflicts and character arcs that make them distinct, the same must be done with minority characters. Just as you bother giving white protagonists conflicts and character arcs, you have to do the same when writing the other.
3. Universal Appeal
For a character to truly resonate with an audience, they must possess attributes and qualities that the audience (no matter what demographic) can relate to. For instance Xena was not a badass because she was a woman. Xena was a badass because she chose to be. She was haunted by a dark past, stoic, and between her unparalleled fighting ability and uncanny knack to outwit her opponents with flawless cunning and strategy, she easily rivals Batman. She was all those things and happened to be a woman and an LGBT. She possessed universal traits that appealed to a cross-section of people. The fact that she was a beautiful woman made her 10 kinds of sexy and awesome. Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Kendra and Firefly/Serenity's Zoe were two of my personal favorite characters. Spartan, no-nonsense and all business, they could've just as easily have worked as white characters (and those roles are usually reserved for white women) but they're captivating characters who happen to be black women. Which makes them 10 kinds of sexy and awesome as well. Are we getting it yet?
3. Research, Do You Some
If The Other's character is rooted in a distinct culture or environment, say they're a Hindu, or a samurai, or from the inner city, or a POC from the South, or an LGBT within the LGBT community, one would do research. Again we are not a monolithic people and our experiences vary. And no BET and MTV is not research when it comes to learning about black people. Nor is Will & Grace and Queer Eye research when it comes to learning about the gays. And you are not automatically an expert just because your token minority buddy blindly co-signed on whatever you scribbled down. Fuck what ya heard. Yes get honest feedback from other minorities but get multiple viewpoints. Sounds like too much work? Taking minority research out of the equation for a second, shouldn't you be doing this kind of prep work with your writing period?
4. It Can Be Done
There are white writers out there who have accurately captured the minority experience and have portrayed minority characters exceptionally. Joss Whedon has repeatedly received critical acclaim for showcasing strong complex ass-kicking women; Russell T. Davies (a white man) gave us an iconic and ass-kicking heroine in Dr. Martha Jones, who guess what, happens to be black. They also managed to handle her race brilliantly without falling into the traps of her being the black sidekick.
A friend of mine (a white woman) has a successful trilogy that features a biracial black woman as the heroine. Before starting any book, my friend does days (even weeks) of research upon research upon research with setting, time period, characters, etc. This heroine in my friend's series was inspired by a few close friends of hers who are black women. Needless to say, the character portrayal was exceptional. So much so I would've sworn my friend was a black woman if I didn't know her.
The television series, The Wire, which explored urban black culture was created and produced by David Simon and Ed Burns, two white men. Between the two of them, they have the experience of being former school teachers, reporters, and police officers. They're realistic portrayal of the black culture (from the drug dealers to the politicians to the police officers to the activists, to the teachers, to the citizens) was based on their experiences and their research. And as a black man, a former professor and an ex-reporter, I can say on all counts they're research and portrayal was on point.
The critically acclaimed No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, which was later adapted to a miniseries for the BBC and HBO (which starred the brilliant Jill Scott), is the ongoing adventures of Motswana woman, Mma Precious Ramotswe. The series was penned by Alexander McCall Smith; a British white author.
And since this post is a response to Ms. Cordwainer's, I'm going to discuss two stories she wrote (i.e. brag on her). One of them featured a black wizard (and yes he is literally a magical negro) as the main protagonist, and the other is a series featuring two characters, one of them being a gay man. She too got it right on both counts and I cheered. I was floored with how she she addressed racial themes in the former story respectfully and portrayed the black sorceror with the same care that authors would've portrayed a caucasian counterpart. The latter series kicked ass because it was nice to to finally see the strong, dominant, assertive badass role go to the gay guy and the sweet sensitive clumsy role go the straight guy. The main reason she got them right is because she treated developed them as characters and didn't solely define them by their race or orientation.
It can be done. In short, there are no excuses.
5. You Will Be Critiqued
That's a reality. Depending on what you write, some may say you did it right, others may say you fucked up. Chances are you will make a mistake and chances are you will fuck up. Learn from it. Take all the criticisms. The ones that are valid will stand on their own merits, the others that aren't won't last. If you've never been a POC, you will never completely understand every facet of the POC experience. That doesn't make you a racist or a bad person, just some things you will not understand unless you experience it first hand. And no being a POC is not the same as being an LGBT which is different from being a woman. All are minorities, all will with legitimate struggles but each with different dynamics at play.
Most minorities WANT to see us portrayed in the media. We want to see our stories told too. We're happy to see white (and/or straight and/or male) writers go out there and tell our stories. When we critique, we critique out of love because we want those white writers to do better. Not all POCs will be in lockstep on every issue or opinion regarding our portrayal but for many of us, if we see a white storyteller making a good faith effort to showcase us in excellent roles and in extraordinary stories but makes a misstep, we can work with that and we will. If they're willing to learn, we're willing to teach.
6. The Minority Metaphor Is Not Enough
Speculative fiction has used the supernatural, aliens, mutants, vampires as metaphor for minorities for decades: True Blood, the 4400, X-Men, etc. But one thing RaceFail has taught us is that the metaphor is not enough, people still aren't getting the issue and are committing the very fails the antagonists commit in these tales. This is one more reason why we need the stories of POC, LGBTs and other minorities showcased so people can finally make the connection and we can be one step closer to dismantling institutional oppression.
7. We're Human First
Unless we're mutants, or vampires, or aliens but you get what I mean. And our humanity doesn't go away even when we're those things. Yes we have our cultural differences but the astute observer will notice that we have far more in common, being human like that. When you keep that in mind and portray us with the same care and respect that you would want you and yours to be portrayed, THAT'S how you successfully write The Other.
And after all of this if this seems like too much of a hassle or too much work or more trouble than it's worth, then I guess my question is why are you resistant to broadening your horizons and striving to better understand your fellow man? What's the real issue here?
Writing the Other.
Why does this matter? Why should white straight storytellers include characters who aren't like them when they can easily get away with not doing so, particularly in speculative fiction? Well they're certainly under no obligation to do so but I think lack of diversity is far less realistic than any space alien or dragon. The truth is that the world is not comprised of only people who look and think like you and if you think that those are the only people who count and matter, then that's a sad reflection on you not only as a myopic writer but as a human being and a pitiful excuse of one at that. After all those who are different (The Other) aren't looked at as equals and they tend to be treated as 3/5 of a person.
In my stories, diversity is not an obligation or a chore, it's a matter of fact non-issue. White heterosexual characters are not the default characters. In my stories, women are on equal footing with men, POCs are frequently in leading and vital roles and LGBTs are every bit of the hardcore badasses as their cis-gendered heterosexual peers.
And if RaceFail (and the subsequent related fails thereof) has taught us one thing is that these issues aren't going away and it's in a writer's best interest to be knowledgeable of said issues as audiences are becoming more vocal (and rightfully so) about being limited to minor stereotypical boxed-in roles and denigrated entirely. To ignore them out of hubris could potentially be very detrimental to one's career as we've seen with countless authors during the RaceFail saga.
I've discussed at length in the past why I support exceptional minority media and why our stories are crucial to cultural and societial progress. But I also realize there are legions and legions of the clueless who don't get it. Which perplexes me, especially in fandom considering that one would think that with all of the stories about the struggle and the minority experience (X-Men anyone?), then surely fandom would be the last place you would see such rampant bigotry and classic examples of institutional oppression. But such is the irony that is Diversity Fail.
"Well I just won't write about The Other again, that'll show them." or "You're damned if you do and you're damned if you don't, so what's the point?"
Would you say the same if a woman explained to you why your female character is wrong? What if a Brit critiqued your piece and explained why certain aspects your story which is set in London were problematic? Would you vow never to write about Jolly Ole England again or would you take the feedback and try to get it right in the future. So the question isn't what's the point, but what is your real issue?
So for those of you who are still lost, allow me, a storyteller and a double minority, to give you a few pointers (among many) on writing The Other. Obviously there are many schools of thoughts and these aren't the end all be all directives but it's definitely a solid start.
1. Our Minority Is Not Our Entire Identity
Any self-respecting minority will tell you that we do not wrap our entire identity in our race, gender, orientation, etc. Yes, we are proud of who we are and yes, our culture and experiences contribute to our overall character (just as the same goes for straight white people). Yes I'm an LGBT and a POC and my experiences from both have contributed to the man I am today. But I'm also a Catholic, a liberal, an artist, a writer, and a comic book geek. I love music, my favorite genre is alternative rock. I'm left-handed. I've been a journalist and a college professor. Are you getting it? I'm a three-dimensional complex and complicated character who happens to be a minority not a minority whose whole identity is wrapped up in being a minority. Characters that have gotten this right for reference: Willow Rosenberg, Dr. Martha Jones, Xena, Thom Creed, Jack Harkness, to a name a few.
2. We Are Not A Monolithic People
We are not the Borg Collective. Just as white people come in all ranges, the same goes for women, POCs, LGBTs, etc. Just as you handle your heterosexual white protagonists with the utmost respectability when fleshing out their internal conflicts and character arcs that make them distinct, the same must be done with minority characters. Just as you bother giving white protagonists conflicts and character arcs, you have to do the same when writing the other.
3. Universal Appeal
For a character to truly resonate with an audience, they must possess attributes and qualities that the audience (no matter what demographic) can relate to. For instance Xena was not a badass because she was a woman. Xena was a badass because she chose to be. She was haunted by a dark past, stoic, and between her unparalleled fighting ability and uncanny knack to outwit her opponents with flawless cunning and strategy, she easily rivals Batman. She was all those things and happened to be a woman and an LGBT. She possessed universal traits that appealed to a cross-section of people. The fact that she was a beautiful woman made her 10 kinds of sexy and awesome. Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Kendra and Firefly/Serenity's Zoe were two of my personal favorite characters. Spartan, no-nonsense and all business, they could've just as easily have worked as white characters (and those roles are usually reserved for white women) but they're captivating characters who happen to be black women. Which makes them 10 kinds of sexy and awesome as well. Are we getting it yet?
3. Research, Do You Some
If The Other's character is rooted in a distinct culture or environment, say they're a Hindu, or a samurai, or from the inner city, or a POC from the South, or an LGBT within the LGBT community, one would do research. Again we are not a monolithic people and our experiences vary. And no BET and MTV is not research when it comes to learning about black people. Nor is Will & Grace and Queer Eye research when it comes to learning about the gays. And you are not automatically an expert just because your token minority buddy blindly co-signed on whatever you scribbled down. Fuck what ya heard. Yes get honest feedback from other minorities but get multiple viewpoints. Sounds like too much work? Taking minority research out of the equation for a second, shouldn't you be doing this kind of prep work with your writing period?
4. It Can Be Done
There are white writers out there who have accurately captured the minority experience and have portrayed minority characters exceptionally. Joss Whedon has repeatedly received critical acclaim for showcasing strong complex ass-kicking women; Russell T. Davies (a white man) gave us an iconic and ass-kicking heroine in Dr. Martha Jones, who guess what, happens to be black. They also managed to handle her race brilliantly without falling into the traps of her being the black sidekick.
A friend of mine (a white woman) has a successful trilogy that features a biracial black woman as the heroine. Before starting any book, my friend does days (even weeks) of research upon research upon research with setting, time period, characters, etc. This heroine in my friend's series was inspired by a few close friends of hers who are black women. Needless to say, the character portrayal was exceptional. So much so I would've sworn my friend was a black woman if I didn't know her.
The television series, The Wire, which explored urban black culture was created and produced by David Simon and Ed Burns, two white men. Between the two of them, they have the experience of being former school teachers, reporters, and police officers. They're realistic portrayal of the black culture (from the drug dealers to the politicians to the police officers to the activists, to the teachers, to the citizens) was based on their experiences and their research. And as a black man, a former professor and an ex-reporter, I can say on all counts they're research and portrayal was on point.
The critically acclaimed No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, which was later adapted to a miniseries for the BBC and HBO (which starred the brilliant Jill Scott), is the ongoing adventures of Motswana woman, Mma Precious Ramotswe. The series was penned by Alexander McCall Smith; a British white author.
And since this post is a response to Ms. Cordwainer's, I'm going to discuss two stories she wrote (i.e. brag on her). One of them featured a black wizard (and yes he is literally a magical negro) as the main protagonist, and the other is a series featuring two characters, one of them being a gay man. She too got it right on both counts and I cheered. I was floored with how she she addressed racial themes in the former story respectfully and portrayed the black sorceror with the same care that authors would've portrayed a caucasian counterpart. The latter series kicked ass because it was nice to to finally see the strong, dominant, assertive badass role go to the gay guy and the sweet sensitive clumsy role go the straight guy. The main reason she got them right is because she treated developed them as characters and didn't solely define them by their race or orientation.
It can be done. In short, there are no excuses.
5. You Will Be Critiqued
That's a reality. Depending on what you write, some may say you did it right, others may say you fucked up. Chances are you will make a mistake and chances are you will fuck up. Learn from it. Take all the criticisms. The ones that are valid will stand on their own merits, the others that aren't won't last. If you've never been a POC, you will never completely understand every facet of the POC experience. That doesn't make you a racist or a bad person, just some things you will not understand unless you experience it first hand. And no being a POC is not the same as being an LGBT which is different from being a woman. All are minorities, all will with legitimate struggles but each with different dynamics at play.
Most minorities WANT to see us portrayed in the media. We want to see our stories told too. We're happy to see white (and/or straight and/or male) writers go out there and tell our stories. When we critique, we critique out of love because we want those white writers to do better. Not all POCs will be in lockstep on every issue or opinion regarding our portrayal but for many of us, if we see a white storyteller making a good faith effort to showcase us in excellent roles and in extraordinary stories but makes a misstep, we can work with that and we will. If they're willing to learn, we're willing to teach.
6. The Minority Metaphor Is Not Enough
Speculative fiction has used the supernatural, aliens, mutants, vampires as metaphor for minorities for decades: True Blood, the 4400, X-Men, etc. But one thing RaceFail has taught us is that the metaphor is not enough, people still aren't getting the issue and are committing the very fails the antagonists commit in these tales. This is one more reason why we need the stories of POC, LGBTs and other minorities showcased so people can finally make the connection and we can be one step closer to dismantling institutional oppression.
7. We're Human First
Unless we're mutants, or vampires, or aliens but you get what I mean. And our humanity doesn't go away even when we're those things. Yes we have our cultural differences but the astute observer will notice that we have far more in common, being human like that. When you keep that in mind and portray us with the same care and respect that you would want you and yours to be portrayed, THAT'S how you successfully write The Other.
And after all of this if this seems like too much of a hassle or too much work or more trouble than it's worth, then I guess my question is why are you resistant to broadening your horizons and striving to better understand your fellow man? What's the real issue here?