It's A Great Time to Speak Up

Sometimes, I look at my timeline on Twitter, and see authors, myself included, squeeing about new book covers, pleading with readers to buy/help promote books, discussing ways to hone one's skills and increase chances of getting published, etc. Usually, this is in the midst of tweets from other parts of the world where people are tweeting about the very real climate crisis, the very real revolutions going on in different parts of the planet, and the very real movements for social justice during one of the most critical times our collective human brain has witnessed to date. In case you missed it, we're teetering on a cusp right now. The decisions we make as a collective can really affect whether we survive. Seriously.

As I've written before, many, many voices and expressions are routinely muted while others are lifted in this society of ours. That's what the Occupy movement is all about. A handful of people make decisions about who gets to sit in the spotlight and how many thousands hold audience in the dark. A limited few perspectives get held up to the light, receive financial support, or are aggressively marketed and amplified. But you know what? We're not living in times where we can afford to wait for someone to give us the nod before we express our thoughts and opinions. One voice can and does make a difference. We've seen it time and again throughout history.

Things are changing--fast. There is access to new technology. Anyone can record and broadcast human rights violations and police brutality as they are happening. Thousands tweeted the eviction of the Occupy Wall Street protesters, despite Mayor Bloomberg's "media blackout." In fact, Occupy Wall Street has morphed into Occupy Our Homes -- taking back hundreds of thousands of empty, foreclosed homes in one of the highest periods of homelessness in this country, ever. Ebooks are widely accepted and read, and are available globally to anyone who has access to a reader, computer, or cell phone. Thoughts, ideas, and information are exchanged with lightning speed over the internet. The balance of power is totally shifting.

If ever there was a time it was more important for people to speak up, to not wait for someone else to provide validation, to throw their contribution into the ring to help shape the future of this little planet under siege, now is it.

Some of my friends have said to me, "Come on. It's not that bad. There are some really great publishers/filmmakers/singers, etc., doing great stuff, no?"

Yes, there are. But they're not the most visible or as widely publicized. And there are not enough of us to compensate for the tremendous imbalance in access and representation. I tell my friends, "If you think things are not 'really that bad,' you haven't been paying attention. Or you've been paying attention to the loudest, not necessarily the truest. Turn off mainstream media for a week and seek out other sources of news and information, then let's talk." Because guess what? We're not supposed to know how bad things are. If we did, we'd all be dropping everything to make it right. We'd unplug from the buying machine, and demand something different -- create something different.

Things are that bad. But the good news is that there is time for change. The U.N. Summit for Climate Change just took place in Durban, South Africa. There are scientists pleading with nations to take responsibility, to implement policies that will reverse some of the damage we've done to the planet, to reduce greenhouse emissions and help steer us toward another path -- a less destructive path. But the most powerful nations on the planet are, at best, not listening. At worse, they are flat out denying that climate change is even real, or even worser, putting the blame/responsibility squarely on the shoulders of poorer nations.

The message is: We don't have to change anything. Things are working fine the way they are. Don't worry your pretty little heads, we got this.

The problem is that things are not working fine for a huge majority of the planet. And that huge majority just happens to be mostly PoC, mostly women and children, and mostly working class.

So, yeah. Now is the time to speak up. Artists/writers/storytellers/musicians have, historically, helped shape the cultures and societies they've lived in. They've served as a voice and mirror for the people. They've entertained, educated, and enlightened.

Folks in positions of power are not about to give their power up. But the rest of us are not completely power-less. If someone won't help you put your book out, you can put it out yourself. These days, the production quality of independently published books is right on par with corporate publishers. Just make your book the very best piece of art you've ever created. Put your expression as an artist, a world citizen, as someone with something valuable to contribute, out there. Release your voice into the world, so that more and more perspectives are heard. Until there is a strong chorus, challenging the same tunes we keep hearing over and over again. Art that supports the status quo is akin to propaganda. Art that challenges and throws the status quo into a new light is creativity. It's dynamic love.

The audience always outnumbers the performers. Participate. And totally squee about books and promote them and buy them. But let's help get more voices out in the mix. It'll completely change the landscape. More people speaking up and putting their perspectives out there is the only thing that will create the kind of change we need right now.


"I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We've been taught that silence would save us, but it won't." -- Audre Lorde

"Life is very short and what we have to do must be done in the now." -- Audre Lorde

"Say something!" -- Bob Marley

Still On Representation

From BBC.co.uk

This past weekend, I saw Stick Fly, a play produced by Alicia Keys, featuring Dule Hill, Mekhi Phifer, and Tracie Thoms. I can't say that I loved it, or that I even thought it was *good*, but I am absolutely glad I got to see it. Out of the literally hundreds of shows on Broadway, there are about *three* featuring (or written by) PoC.

As I mentioned, I wasn't crazy about some of the things in this play (for a show about family, I would have included mothers on the stage, and I would not have silenced a woman for speaking truth, but that's just me), but I truly appreciated this writer's humor, characterization, psychological depth, and frank dialogue on race dynamics, class, and colorism among the African-American elite. It's her perspective, her contribution, and I can respect that.

As I thought about it later, I wondered again, what it would be like to see more representations of PoC, in all our myriad expressions, on center screen, on the main stage, in the spotlight. How differently would we navigate life? What new possibilities would we conjure up? What new opportunities would we see that now elude us?

Even after multiple shining reviews in other cities, Stick Fly took almost six years to make it to Broadway for lack of funding and support. I thought about how many wonderful, brilliant stories there are out there that will never see the light of day because there is no financial backing for them. This story was not how I would have written a story about family, but it was a good story that deserved to be on stage -- on Broadway -- nonetheless. How many others are out there just like it, waiting for a producer's approval, an editor's nod, a bookstore's/reviewer's stamp? And how many will never get that nod because the person reading/viewing the story doesn't relate to it, or simply can't see themselves in it?

And then, this morning, I read this post on Zoetrope, about the "dead girl" look on some YA book covers, and I was reminded, once again, that the struggle for representation continues on all fronts.

But I was heartened by this BBC article about Indian youth wanting to see their own faces on stage. Whereas before, the preference was for white faces on the stage, young Indians now want to see their own images and values reflected back to them, in all their unique beauty and complexity. And the result is a uniquely Indian sound, exploding onto the Indie music scene.

History has shown us that independent thinkers/musicians/artists have paved the way for sweeping social and cultural change. I think we're in the midst of some of that same sweeping change here, too, with the balance of power shifting. It's exciting...like we're on the cusp of something very significant, very important. It's slow going, yes, but I'm in it for the long haul.

Muslish

Here's Colbert's report on media coverage of the gunman in Norway's recent tragic attack...

What's Going On

I've been meaning to post updates on my recent signing/reading events, but there is too much going on and I've allowed myself to become buried. But here are a few quick updates until I find time to do longer and more, um, picturesque (?) posts . . .

The Queens reading was absolutely lovely. Meeting teen readers is always a joy, but I've wanted to read in Queens, especially, since it has one of the largest immigrant populations in NYC. The class of pre-GED students we met with was one hundred percent teens of colour. Seriously. Every last one of them.

And the panel of readers? All white - and me. I couldn't help but wonder how many times a day those students see people who look nothing like them with a platform to freely express their opinions, values, ideas, and creative vision. I know what it was like for me as a teen, and then how powerful it was to finally see women of color speaking their truth boldly and without fear--and provided with a space to do so. Melina Marchetta was reading next to me and spoke beautifully, not just as an ally, but as a woman who could relate to the feeling of being "other" in a place you call home.

Here we are, above, at the Cupcake Cafe which adjoins Books of Wonder.

Speaking of which, I apologize to anyone who showed up at Books of Wonder and couldn't find copies of Jazz in Love. I'm not sure what the snafu was there, but for some reason my books did not arrive.  I will be there again on May 14th for the Diversity in YA tour, so please stop by then!

In non-writerly news, the whole Chris Brown/Rihanna thing has been really upsetting for me. Even more so than the Charlie Sheen thing. Maybe it's because my girls and so, so many teen girls of colour are hooked in to popular culture and idolize these icons. And my girls, in particular, have many questions I'm always flailing to answer in a way that makes sense to them. Or maybe it's because the dynamics of that relationship are so familiar to me. I don't know.

But things like this help - if you haven't read Daniel Jose Older's piece on Racialicious about men's violence against women, do so now. He also had some great tweets about the topic yesterday - one of which was, "Batterers control anger by not lashing out at judges, cops, their homies, etc. They control it & direct it at their spouses," and the following one, "So u can do all the anger management classes u want but ur just feeding the problem until u instill a foundation of respect towards women."

Chris Brown's recent actions highlight violence against women in our society in stark relief, and are a reminder of the way the Creative Life Force has so brutally been taken hostage in our world. I have to keep telling myself that the fight is raging strong. That more and more people are waking up. Hard to tell sometimes, but I think it's true.

Why I do What I Do

Last night, my fourth-grade daughter stayed up later than usual, finishing up her "A Woman I Admire" essay. She went on the computer and searched for images of Raven Symone, her inspiration, and printed them out. My daughter loves Raven because Raven acts, sings and designs clothing. She is not skinny and she is not afraid to be brown. And she is one of the only young women on mainstream television that look like my daughter.

This morning, as I was driving my girls to school, the fourth-grader looked at the picture of Raven Symone in her hands, crumpled it up and put it in her pocket. In a soft voice, she said, "Sometimes people say Raven is ugly." Then she looked up at me and I could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. "I don't think I'm going to talk about Raven, Mommy."

Even as my heart was breaking and I was doing all I could to remind my daughter of her beauty in the minutes before she headed off to school, I knew I had lost this battle. So much of this is bigger than I am. But I was reminded, with a surge of remembered pain, why I write what I write -- to counter some of what my girls see in the world, every minute of every day.

It will wear at them and they will not come out unscathed. But I can do my best to teach them how to fight. And part of that, I can do through my stories.

Movie Links & A Giveaway

And so we begin anew! Another cycle of birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, gray hair. >grin<

First: if you don't have a copy of Jazz in Love, Edi over at Crazy Quilts is giving away two copies, so if you'd like to enter your name in the draw, go on over and comment!

Second, here are a couple of films I watched over the holidays that I really liked -



The main criticism of the film seems to be that it was not an accurate depiction of the horrors of Partition. But honestly? I've read, watched, and heard enough about the carnage of Partition to last me a looong time. This was a love story by Kashmiri-born director, Vic Sarin, and for that, it was quite beautiful. Yes, they got a lot of it wrong (the accents, some of the details), but for the love story (for which I am, admittedly, a sucker), it was well worth watching.

And this one -



I got worried about this one partway through, but then it righted itself and ended up pretty good.

Happy viewing, all!

Food, Freedom, Control, and Profit

This link was posted on Facebook and I had to share it here. Jason Taylor is over on Vimeo with a video series about food, freedom, control and farming (hence, the title of this post - clever, huh?). I saw three of the short pieces and was duly impressed. Unfortunately, my connection slowed, so I was frustrated and couldn't watch the rest, but I'll be sure to be back on Jason's channel as soon as I get another chance. Check out the videos - they're really interesting.

Here's one that shows the Golden Temple's langar ritual. Langar is the communal meal served at all Sikh temples. Anyone, regardless of race, ethnicity, class, whatever is given a free meal - it's one of the basic tenets of Sikhism, and one I whole-heartedly agree with. No one should go hungry.

Ellen, Using her Platform to Say Something

Caught this on Facebook today. I love that people are stepping up and speaking out, especially those with large platforms. If you haven't seen Ellen's statement, watch it now:

Links for This Week

Love this Sandip Roy piece on Alternet about Eat, Pray, Love:

Now, I don’t want to deny Gilbert her “journey.” She is herself honest, edifying and moving. I don’t want to deny her Italian carbs, her Indian Om’s or her Bali Hai beach romance. We all need that sabbatical from the rut of our lives.

But as her character complained that she had “no passion, no spark, no faith” and needed to go away for one year, I couldn’t help wondering where do people in Indonesia and India go away to when they lose their passion, spark and faith? I don’t think they come to Manhattan. Usually third-worlders come to America to find education, jobs and to save enough money to send for their families to join them, not work out their kinks.

On the other end of the film spectrum, here's an interesting tidbit--megastar Bollywood actor, Amir Khan, who starred in and co-produced the Oscar-nominated Lagaan some years back, has produced a political film about farmer suicides in India. It's a satire that cuts very close to the truth:

Khan knows that he's taking a risk by producing such an explicitly political film in a country where reasonable expectations say it'll find a niche audience, at best. But he's come to believe it's his job to make movies with a message.
"I don't know who else will do it," he says. "When I come across material which excites me — which not only is engaging and entertaining, but also has something to say, or hopefully sensitizes people or makes you think — I'd like to be a part of that." 

And in publishing industry news, Barnes & Noble is for sale:

I know exactly when B&N lost me as a customer. Some years ago, to compete with Amazon, B&N began offering free same-day delivery in Manhattan if you placed your order over the Internet by 11 a.m. I did so several times -- and not once did the books arrive when promised. Everything I have ordered from Amazon has arrived on time or earlier. Then came Amazon's game-changing Kindle, and instant delivery. Nothing I've read about B&N's belated rival Nook has tempted me to try it.

What Happens If

The South Asia Solidarity Initiative has put forward a response to this TIME Magazine article titled, "What Happens If We Leave Afghanistan." With the strong emotional response an image like that of Aisha on the cover of TIME elicits, it's especially important to read other takes on the issue. Sometimes we get so overwhelmed by strong emotional responses (and the image of Aisha certainly draws justified rage and sheer devastation), that we don't take the time to see the full picture.

Certainly read TIME's post, if you feel so inclined. But then go and read the response to it -- here is an excerpt:

The August 9, 2010 issue of TIME magazine featured a striking cover photograph of an 18-year-old Afghan woman, Aisha, who was disfigured by the Taliban last year.  The cover title read, “What happens if we leave Afghanistan.”  While Aisha’s story and the stories of many other women like her may depict some part of the reality of women’s lives under the Taliban, TIME’s conclusion that continuing the U.S. occupation of Afghanistan is necessary, is highly misleading and troubling. [. . .]

For the last decade, the occupying forces of the U.S. and its NATO allies have nourished warlords and supported a corrupt government, leading many to join the Taliban and increasing their influence across Afghanistan. Increased civilian deaths, a fundamentalist resurgence, and deadly bombing raids have led to a devastated country and a Taliban stronger than ever before. TIME’s claim to “illuminate what is actually happening on the ground” falsely equates the last decade of occupation with progress. The occupation has not and will not bring democracy to Afghanistan, nor will it bring liberation to Afghan women. Instead, it has exacerbated deep-seated corruption in the government, the widespread abuse of women’s rights and human rights by fundamentalists, including Karzai’s allies, and stymied critical infrastructure development in the country. The question should not be “what happens if we leave Afghanistan,” the question should be “what happened when we invaded Afghanistan” and “what happens if we stay in Afghanistan.”

Racism and Misogyny are often used against one another, to justify the existence of one over the other. In this case, "protecting the women" seems to be the guise under which US racism and imperialism justify their presence. The truth is that both racism and misogyny go hand in hand. Where there is one, the other always lurks nearby.

Read the rest of SASI's response here.

There Goes the Neighborhood

In case you missed it, this article by Joel Stein in Time magazine, called "My Own Private India", has pissed off many Indian-Americans. Here's an excerpt:

"For a while, we assumed all Indians were geniuses. Then, in the 1980s, the doctors and engineers brought over their merchant cousins, and we were no longer so sure about the genius thing. In the 1990s, the not-as-brilliant merchants brought their even-less-bright cousins, and we started to understand why India is so damn poor.

Eventually, there were enough Indians in Edison to change the culture. At which point my townsfolk started calling the new Edisonians "dot heads." One kid I knew in high school drove down an Indian-dense street yelling for its residents to "go home to India." In retrospect, I question just how good our schools were if "dot heads" was the best racist insult we could come up with for a group of people whose gods have multiple arms and an elephant nose."

Lovely, no? In response to some of the outrage, Mr. Stein had this to say on his Facebook page: "Didn't mean to insult Indians with my column this week. Also stupidly assumed their emails would follow that Gandhi non-violence thing."

Can we squeeze any more stereotypes in there? Way to satire, Mr. Stein! Clearly, Indian-Americans were not the target readership for this essay. Perhaps he thought PoC don't read?

Sandip Roy wrote a great response in the Huffington Post. Here's an excerpt from that:

"Dotbusters, for those who missed the 80s, were street gangs who attacked South Asians in places like Jersey City where many immigrants had moved . . . One of those immigrants, Navroze Mody, died after being bashed with bricks. Another, Kaushal Saran, a doctor, was beaten and left unconscious on a busy street corner. Homes were robbed. Women were harassed. [...]

The problem was the smart ones brought in their less smart cousins ("merchants") and the merchants brought in "their even-less-bright cousins, and we started to understand why India is so damn poor." This is immigration reform in a nutshell. Give us your engineers, but not your cabbies and Dunkin Donut-wallas. Except those cabbies and 7/11 owners and motel proprietors work damn hard for their little piece of the American dream.

I think in a way the Indian community is also so obsessed with its presidential scholars and spelling bee champs, with its Indra Nooyis (Pepsico head) and Dr. Sanjay Guptas, it gives short shrift to the little guys, the ones that run gas stations on baking highways in the middle of nowhere, take classes during the day and work graveyard shift at the 7/11. They are the muscle and sinew of our community. But to Joel Stein, they are just so much litter strewn all over his old hometown. That's his problem -- too many Indians."

Satire is only good when it is funny. Stein's essay may be funny to folks in support of bills like Arizona's SB 1070 (also known as the "Support Our Law Enforcement and Safe Neighborhoods Act"), but it's not funny for most Indian-Americans and other immigrants, particularly those who've been on the receiving end of name-calling, harassment, bullying, or violence stemming from views much like the ones expressed in Stein's piece. He may chuckle over his own wit, but there are some who will take essays like this as evidence to bolster an already simmering rage over the "brown hordes flooding" America's borders. Stories are powerful, indeed.

SYTYCD

Okay, I'm a huge fan of So You Think You Can Dance. It's one of the few shows on television that has lots of talented PoC on it. I have my favourite choreographers (Sonya!) and it was the first show that did a massive, mainstream Bollywood number (Katee and Joshua ROCKED) that had me out of my seat and jumping around like a fool.

I've had my problems with the way Mia Michaels handles some of her criticism (the two times I've taken exception happen to both be when she was critiquing the performances of black dancers), to be sure. At the same time, I have to admit she is a brilliant choreographer. And Nigel definitely grates on my last nerve with his ancient gender crap.

But I'm so excited about this season because there are so many dancers to love! Alex Wong, Jose Ruiz, Cristina Santana, and Robert Roldan, just to name a few of the ones I'm on the edge of my seat for. Here's one of my favourite pieces from last night, featuring some of my all-time fave SYTYCD dancers:

Music Videos: Whose Fantasy Is It?

ETA: I seem to be experiencing #bloggerfail. Some people are not able to view the trailer for some reason, so here's a link to where you can watch it. It's definitely worth watching. If you're feeling squeamish, please keep in mind that these are mass media images. Music videos are the common language of young people, and children as young as nine and ten years old are watching these images, digesting them, and incorporating them into their ideas of who they are and how relationships are constructed.

Okay, EVERYONE WATCH THIS TRAILER. Then get every high school/college/university teacher you know to purchase a copy and screen it for their students. I had to watch the whole thing on Youtube because the price was a bit steep for me, but if your school or organization can purchase it, it's WELL worth it to get young people thinking critically about what they're consuming - and how those images/messages shape their ideas of who they are . . . If you're having trouble seeing it here, go to this link. The video was written and directed by Sut Jhally, Ph.D. Dr. Jhally is a professor of Communication at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, and Founder and Executive Director of the Media Education Foundation.

Since I'm having trouble embedding the trailer, here is part one (of seven) of the video . . .

Documentary: DESIGIRLS!

Was just pointed to this trailer for DESIGIRLS! from Racialicious about the idea of a collective single South Asian community and how that doesn't always work for South Asian LGBTQ folk. There's an article on feministing.com about the doc with links to parts one and two on Youtube. Definitely worth checking out.

The Power of Images and Words

I woke up this morning to pouring rain and a family running around in stealth mode as they prepared for Mom's Day. H took the kids out and I sat down at the computer for some leisurely surfing with my tea and breakfast.

First video I saw was MIA's Born Free. Holy Wow. I wish I had been more prepared. My gut was churning, and I was trembling for at least an hour afterward. Take that as a warning if you plan to watch the video. It is intense. Violent. MIA flips stereotypes upside down by showing US forces rounding up redheaded young males and taking them into the desert to pick them off one by one in a sort of "redhead genocide". Disturbing, to say the least. And kind of eye-opening, too. I'm sure it will/does challenge many viewers' assumptions and associations with certain images and representations.

I wandered around afterward, searching for ways to get back to that leisurely space I was in pre-MIA-video, and it struck me how privileged I am - to know that my kids are safe. That I can sit at my computer and leisurely surf while eating breakfast. That I know I'll wake up tomorrow and celebrate with my family. What a jolt to be reminded that these are considered privileges and not rights. Basic human rights.

I didn't know what to do with myself because I was a bit of a mess with those images still fresh in my mind. So I started tidying up, a trick I learned from my mother who was always a bit of a mess :). And my eyes lit upon a video the hubs brought home - Tell Them Anything You Want: A Portrait of Maurice Sendak, by Lance Bangs and Spike Jonze. I popped it in. The images of trees, the silence of Connecticut in the winter, the colour of leaves in the fall, the love between siblings and friends and family, and the connection with animals were soothing. Reminded me of the fragile, but persistent struggle for Life to prevail, even in the harshest of circumstances.

I thought, too, of what a gift words and images can be - what a soothing balm they often have been. Bringing me off ledges and surrounding me in warmth and safety. Sometimes tearing me down and other times building me up.

There were many poignant moments in the video, but here are a few quotes from Sendak's interview in Tell Them Anything You Want:

About Where the Wild Things Are, "I knew, I knew, I knew it would cause a lot of trouble. And my editor knew it and all she did was encourage me. 'Go for it, go for it. Don't worry about anything or anybody'."

About his editor, "Her name was Ursula Nordstrom. She made me who I am. She gave me a book every year. She kept me working. I mean, can you imagine mentorship from a publishing house? She intended that I should be an important illustrator. She knew I could be. I had bad habits, I never went to art school, I drew in a clumsy fashion, but she could see beneath that."

"It's not true that I write books for children because I have this adoration of childhood. No. It's a peculiarity of mine that I do this. What I do is peculiar, but it's all I can do."

"Having children takes talent, like any creative thing you want to do - if you want to be good at it."

"When I was gay, the world was extremely unwelcoming and it was very different. And it was something you hid...I missed out on a lot of fun... When I was young, I was worried that that knowledge, were it to come out, would ruin my career."

"I did some good books, which mostly is an isolationist's form of life--doing books, doing pictures. And it is the only true happiness I've ever, ever enjoyed in my life. It's sublime. To just go into another room and make pictures. It's magic time, where all your weaknesses of character and all blemishes of personality and whatever else torments you fades away...it just doesn't matter. You're doing the one thing you want to do and you do it well and you know you do it well and you're happy."

"I think what I offered was different, but not because I drew better than anybody, or wrote better than anybody, but because I was more honest than anybody."

"And in the discussion of children and the lives of children and fantasies of children and the language of children, I said anything I wanted. Because I don't believe...that there's a demarcation - 'well, you mustn't tell them that and you mustn't tell them that.' You can tell them anything you want. Just tell them if it's true. If it's true, you tell them."

First Female Indian Idol

I love this and just had to share. The star of the video below is Sourabhee Debbarma, winner of Indian Idol '09. She's twenty-four, the first female to win Indian Idol, and according to her wiki entry, she is of Twipra descent (the indigenous people of the Tripura region).

It's not until I actually see these that I realize how hungry I am for images like this, and also this--where brown people are not just in the picture to educate about race/racism, to be studied, to be tokens, or as a splash of colour in an otherwise all-white landscape*. I love seeing this young woman have her spotlight on a show that dominates the cultural airwaves the world over, and in a context where she can just BE.

She's beautiful, isn't she? Though if she'd grown up with someone like my dad, she'd have heard this her whole life: "EAT. Or we're going to have to weigh you down on windy days. Eat MORE. [headshake] You don't eat enough..."

*I know Indians have their own tokens and "to-be-studied" groups--plenty of bigotry, racism, and downright supremacy abounds on the subcontinent. No arguments there. However, this post is within the context of North American media and images - and PoC within those frameworks.

Reflections

I grew up thinking it was a matter of course that women can and should lead nations. In my home, we discussed and debated the policies of Indira Gandhi, Benazir Bhutto, and Margaret Thatcher. All women prime ministers during my lifetime. It never ocurred to me that this was something remarkable. Until I started looking at the history of Canada and the US. In the entire histories of these nations, both the US and Canada have never had a female leader - especially ironic to me, as I grew up with media stereotypes of the submissive, demure, exotic Asian female.

I understood pretty early how important it is to SEE role models - images and actual sightings of folks who look like you taking up space, speaking up, making decisions, holding seats of power.

Yesterday, Coe Booth, Sarah Darer Littman, Maryrose Wood and I read from our books at the Bronx Library Center. The auditorium we were in held over one hundred students from the Bronx. Over eighty percent of them were brown. Maybe even closer to ninety percent. I thought of how important it was for them to see two brown women on the stage, reading from works that focused on experiences these students could relate to - expressing worldviews these students knew well. Whether they knew it or not, we were creating a window for them to what was Possible. They could then see *themselves* up on a stage, where there was room for their expressions, their words, their image.

And I thought of how important it was for them to hear us voicing into reality the things they struggle with, real issues they face - particularly with the flurry of questions Sarah got over her upcoming book on a girl's relationship with an internet predator. These young men and women were hungry for what is REAL. What they know in their bones.

I wondered how many times these same students would sit through similar readings with absolutely NO reflection of their realities. No recognition that they exist at all. And that, of course, is precisely what they experience when they watch TV, or open a mainstream magazine, or peruse many of the books in large chain bookstores.

Still. Yesterday, they got to see and hear a diverse panel of women authors. And that, at least for now, is something.

Hood Passes & Home Invasions

I recently read this post by Adam Mansbach over at one of my usual internet haunts, and it got me thinking about writing. Particularly the idea of a "hood pass". That term (in this case) applies specifically to the black community and, while there are issues with the word "hood" being used to describe the totality of blackness, the larger idea of certain white folks (or any non-black folks, really) getting a sort of cultural "pass" is very interesting. Whether we're referring to products which either mimic the style and aesthetic of PoC (as with music, or clothes), or products which represent a specific community of colour--while the creator of said product is not of that community themselves (as in literature, let's say), the hood pass is, indeed, a concept worth exploring.

Zetta Elliott just had a guest post up on Justine Larbalestier's blog about race and book reviews. One line, in particular, stood out for me: "Mostly I just wish white authors would leave people of color alone."

Elliott was referring specifically to writing for children, but it's a sentiment that I think is applicable across the board. I'm sure that in 1492, folks in the Americas were thinking something along those lines. I'm also pretty sure that in 1757, when the British invaded India, most Indians were like, "Wow, it would've been awesome if all these white people had just left us alone." Probably in Australia in 1788 folks were thinking similar thoughts, too. Just a hunch.

When reading up on India's history for my work-in-progress, I stumbled upon a site that had this:

"Consider the fact that Indian written history stretches back almost 4,000 years, to the civilization centers of the Indus Valley Culture at Harappa and Mohenjo-Daro. In addition, by 1850 A.D., India had a population of some 200 million or more.
Britain, on the other hand, had no indigenous written language until the 9th century A.D. (almost 3,000 years after India). Its population was about 16.6 million in 1850.
How, then, did Britain manage to control India from 1757 to 1947?
The keys seem to have been superior weaponry, a strong profit motive and Eurocentric confidence." [Emphasis mine]

See, to me it all comes down to real estate and entitlement. It's about barging into someone else's home and claiming it as yours. And then responding in dismay, shock, and outrage when you're asked to leave. THAT is entitlement. Back that entitlement up with power (whether it's military might, or systemic and institutionalized power that was gained through military might), and you have a potent mix where PoC, women, the working class--or whomever is having their community/culture/home invaded--lack the power or voice to fend off the onslaught. Now add to all this, a cultivated ignorance among the powerful that they deserve all the offerings of the home they've barged into. And that in barging into this home, they are serving the best interests of those being invaded. Well...you can see how that really doesn't leave us much room for honest communication. Not without a whole lot of HARD work and painful self-reflection, that's for sure.

So back to the hood pass. John Mayer is a white male creating music that "resembles" a certain musical tradition which can trace its roots back to, primarily, black people. He got a "pass" because his interest in something that is uniquely theirs was appreciated, it was familiar...it was an echo of something recognized. However, beyond a profit motive, he has displayed absolutely ZERO interest in that community. Far from it, clearly, since he has issued racial slurs and hurled denigrating, dehumanizing insults at members of the very community that has supported him. Clearly, he has no awareness whatsoever, of one of the reasons he may have managed to reach the heights he has. Upon whose backs his luxuries have been acquired.

When we apply this to literature, we are talking about white authors who write stories of PoC--while PoC are not being published with their OWN stories. Again, there is a vast history behind this. On this site is another interesting fact: "Besides losing hundreds of thousands of lives, the Aborigines also lost much of their culture. They could no longer tell their stories and traditions, and in some cases, there was no one to hear them. History was lost."

This quote is specific to the Aborigines of Australia, but can be applied to most PoC all over the world. Wherever colonization has taken place*, along with it has come a steady and consistent loss of history and story told from our perspective. We, as people of colour have been robbed, often through violent and brutal means, of the right to tell our own stories. We have had to stand aside for centuries while our streets have been renamed, our histories distorted, and our own stories delivered to us through European (or Euro-centric) eyes. We have been taught ABOUT ourselves from people who do not share our history. We have been taught in schools through white-authored textbooks to see the world, its peoples, and its history through a white conqueror's perspective.

No one can stop anyone from writing what they want. But what we can request is that the writing which represents us be done with respect, with humility, and with a complete awareness of one's privilege. Do your research--not just of the people you're writing about, but of what it means for you, as someone who has more privilege, to tell their story. And always, always, be mindful of the fact that there is an entire history behind white folks telling the stories of people of colour.

And if you ARE given a "hood pass", imagine that you have been invited into someone's home and welcomed. You are standing on their sacred ground. What will you do with that honour?

I'll close with a few quotes that I stumbled across this week:

"If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive."—Audre Lorde

"Our stories are our identities."
-- Reggie McKnight from EIGHTH GRADE SUPERZERO, by Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich

"We carve out boundaries in real time."
-- Kesime Bernard (from above post by Adam Mansbach)



*For the purposes of this essay I am focusing on PoC and European colonizers. I am quite aware that there are parts of Europe which were under Ottoman rule for hundreds of years, that some European nations invaded other European nations, and that many nations/peoples were conquered by those who looked just like them. Those of you with white skin who have been affected by these invasions must understand clearly what I am referring to when I write of the erasure and re-writing of history, and the need for those on the receiving end of said invasions to tell their own stories. No need to clarify. I am referring here, to a particular pattern of colonization and imperialism that affected peoples of colour, in alarming numbers, across the globe--specifically, the indiginous populations of the Americas, Africa, South Asia, Australia, New Zealand, and the Pacific Islands. And I am placing this within the context of US publishing--which is a product of the unique racial history of the United States.

Links: Twilight Essay; Awesome Editor Interview

A couple of links for your holiday reading:

1) If you want to read my thoughts on how Twilight, Bollywood, and Disney capitalize on the sexuality of young girls (and their mothers), check out this essay on Racialicious:

"But after seeing [Twilight], I have a whole new understanding of why this film has banked as much revenue as it has. And how closely it resembles Bollywood romance films. The success of Bollywood romance films and novels like Twilight are a huge reflection of their consumers’ needs and wants, as well as the accepted social context within which these stories thrive.
Now, this is nothing new — the budding sexuality and innocence of young girls has been exploited historically by media giants like the Disney corporation for years. Disney princesses have been swooning over their prince saviours and waiting for rescue for decades. These are stories little girls grow up reading and hearing at bedtime and many know by heart..."

2) Zetta has an amazing interview up with former children's book editor, Laura Atkins. If you are interested in publishing, multicultural children's books, and issues of race and representation, do check it out. Here is one of my favourite bits--how to go about actively seeking voices from writers of colour:

"·      seek out published authors for adults (fiction and non-fiction) who I thought could write for young readers;
·      contact editors of anthologies (especially those featuring diverse authors, or, for instance, Native American stories) and ask for suggestions of new talent;
·      post on listservs and bulletin boards for writing groups featuring authors of color – sometimes saying I was looking for something in particular (such as contemporary Native American or Filipino American stories – anywhere I saw a hole in the market)
·      contact journalists who wrote in relevant areas to see if they had considered writing for young people
·      talk to curators from museums representing diverse communities to have them tell me about artists or concepts that might work for children’s books.

These days, you could post on blogs saying you are actively seeking diverse new authors and illustrators and the word would certainly spread.  I get frustrated when I hear editors say they would love to publish more diverse authors if their stories would only come across their desks.  Getting through all the steps it takes to get published is a huge obstacle, so this really needs intentional efforts from editors..."

The rest of the interview is fantastic, as well.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend, all!

Ripples To Waves

The other night, the hubs and I watched Sin Nombre. We'd heard great things about this film and were excited to see it. We were very disappointed. The film is about two young adults trying to escape their life circumstances. One is trying to cross into the US through Mexico, the other is trying to outrun a life of gang violence. I kept hoping throughout the film for some...hope. There was certainly some redemption, but it was not nearly enough.

I kept wondering what the story would have been if the camera had been put in the hands of Mexicans, or Hondurans. Would the characters have had the same arcs? Would the ending have been the same?

I think about one of my favorite films of all time, Favela Rising, and how different that film was from this one. It dealt with some of the same issues: poverty, the slums of South America, gang violence, trying to find a way out of despair. But the crew of that film put cameras in the hands of Brazilians. The kids and young men and women of the slum told their own story through their own eyes. And the picture was SO vastly different from what was depicted in Sin Nombre. Favela Rising was a story of empowerment, hope, of love for one's own people and community, of the beauty and unbreakable spirit of a people. It was about the power of music, art, and creativity to heal, to transform, and to help people transcend their circumstances. And, even though the film was "created" by two "regular," US dudes, they gave cameras to the people who lived in the community they wanted to tell a story about. These two regular, US dudes then took the proceeds from the movie and invested ALL of the money back into the community that opened itself up to their cameras.

Granted, SN was fiction and FR non-fiction. But as crafters of story, we are the ones who edit and revise, and decide what the ultimate plot or arc will be. We are the ones who decide what the story is, whose story it is, and what the characters learn, discover, or accomplish.

Here's a quick snippet from Jeff Zimbalist, one of the directors of FR from his Director's Statement:

"It seems most people’s image of global harmony or disharmony is predominantly shaped by the media. When I find myself surrounded by stories of the world falling apart, naturally I imagine the world as a place falling apart. The more access I have to stories of communities that work, the more I imagine a world in which people are also realizing change and breaking the odds stacked against them. I am attracted to these vital and inspiring stories because it is in them that I find myself the most activated and alive."

Whenever people talk about not knowing what to do in their lives to change the way things are, I think about these kinds of simple, ordinary things people do all the time--in whatever capacity they can. Something as seemingly-minor as putting a camera in the hands of someone whose story has never been heard--you don't have to be a Spielberg or a Tarantino. Or giving voice to someone whose voice is usually not considered important/valuable/newsworthy/marketable. These small things are what it takes to make real, lasting changes. These are the things that inspire, spark a chain reaction, and create ripples that turn into large waves.