Lately, I have heard several published white writers express their trepidation about the idea of writing non-white characters. Some of them have mentioned that they feel they’ll get in trouble if they continue to write only white characters, but that they also feel they’ll get into trouble if they write characters who aren’t white cause they’ll bugger it up.
Damned if you do, they say, damned if you don’t.
To which I can only say, and I mean this nicely, “Please!”
What exactly are you risking? Who exactly is damning you? Which of your previously published novels have attracted no criticisms and no damnation? Cause that’s amazing. You wrote a book no one critcised? Awesome. Please teach me that trick!
Every single book I’ve published has displeased someone. I’ve been accused of promoting teenage pregnancy, homosexuality, and underage drinking. Every single one of my books has caused at least a few people to tell me that I stuffed various things up: my descriptions of Sydney, of NYC, of mathematics (absolutely true), my Oz characters don’t speak like proper Aussies, and my USians don’t talk like proper Yanquis. My teenagers sound too young or too old and are too smart or too stupid. I did my best, but some think that was not good enough.
That’s the risk you take when you write a book.
If you do not have the knowledge, resources, research, or writing skills to write people who are different from you, then don’t. People may well criticise you for that. They’ll also criticise you for having some of your characters speak their notion of ungrammatical English1. And for not having enough vampires. Whatever.2 Write what you’re good at. Lots and lots of writers pretty much only write about themselves and their friends. F. Scott Fitzgerald is a famous example. There are many many others. That’s fine. Own it. And do it as well as you can.
If you, as a white writer, decide to write people of a different hue to yourself then you should do your damnedest to get it right. But know that no matter how well researched your book, no matter how well vetted by multiple knowledgeable readers it is, there will always be people who think you buggered it up and misrepresented them. All you can do is write the best, most thoroughly researched book you possibly can. After all, don’t you do that with every book you write? You don’t write your historicals with Wikipedia as your only source, do you? Right then.
What should you do when you are criticised?
Listen. Learn. Even if you think they’re insane and completely wrong.
Figure out how to avoid the same egregious mistakes in your next book. But remember that your next book will also be criticised. That’s how it goes.
Do not have a hissy fit and say you’ll never write about anyone who isn’t white again. Do not insult those criticising you.
Say you, as a white American, write a novel with many Thai-American characters and a Thai-American reader criticises you for getting something wrong yet another Thai-American reader praises you for getting the exact same thing right. Who do you believe?
What do you do when two white readers disagree about stuff in your books? Do you assume that all white people are the same? Perhaps it’s time to stop assuming that all Thai-Americans are the same and have the same opinions and experiences. Thailand’s a big country with a wide range of ethnicities, religions, cuisines and everything else. The experiences of the Thai diaspora in the USA is going to be just as varied. Some Thai Americans will think you got it right, some will think you got it wrong. That’s how it goes.
Keep in mind that Thai-Americans writing about Thai-Americans are also criticised and told they get it wrong. No one is immune from criticism. No one is immune from getting it wrong for at least some of their readers. We all do it.
Writing is hard. No matter what you write about. You will be damned no matter what you do. But that has nothing to do with you being white, that has to do with you having the arrogance to be a writer, and publish what you write for other people to read. Your readers get to judge you. That’s just how it goes. Your job is to be a grown up about what you do and how people respond to you. That’s really hard too. Trust me, I know.
Thus endeth the rant.
Great post, Justine. I support this 100% and would encourage white writers – like myself – to keep trying to put PoC in their fiction. My first YA novel comes out in 2011 and, yes, I am excited. But I am also nervous as I have an important character in it who is Asian (Indian). My protag is white, but her best friend is an Indian guy. One of my favourite scenes takes place in his family home, where we meet his father and sister, and before I got offered a publishing deal I was confident in this scene and in my representation of this character.
However, now that I know my book will be published and read more widely, I am afraid that others will think I got it wrong. Sure, I can protest and say: “But I based this on my *own* best friend who is a British Asian, and I have met his father and talked with him and eaten at their dinner table.” If I do make these protests, though, I will be missing the point: Just because MY friend loves my book and thinks I represented his colour and race well, doesn’t mean that everyone else will think the same.
Not all experiences are the same, and not all reactions will be same. I’m sure someone will criticise the way I portrayed this character, and I know I must learn from that and not get defensive.
Thanks for the reminder. (Sorry this was so long!)
Cheers,
Kaz
Karen: Exactly. Not to mention that “my friend liked it” is up there with “my mum/dad liked it”. 🙂
When we get these kind of criticisms it’s not about us or our research but about the reader and their responses. We writers have to work hard to remember that. Especially when we’re treading on such sensitive ground: Racism is very often a matter of life and death.
Justine: Re. “my mum/dad liked it”… LOL! 😀
And this: “When we get these kind of criticisms it’s not about us or our research but about the reader and *their* responses.”
Right! This is so important. It’s the part that too many people miss out on, and I am working hard to remember this myself. To become defensive only serves to take away from the reader’s experience. This is yet another form of disempowerment.
True. It’s really hard for anyone to realise that not everything is about them. Most people—especially writers—are egomaniacs.
I.M.O., a white author being afraid to write characters of color (and vice versa) is like me being afraid to write male characters because I’m a woman. If writers don’t PUSH themselves, they don’t GROW. Kudos to you for always pushing yourself to the next level.
On a side note, it seems to me that there’s something condescending about an author acting like an unfamiliar culture or merely a different *skin color* is too hard to understand and therefore write about. Does the author think that people who are not like them are not human? We are all made of the same dirt, and we’ll all return to it. That alone gives every person of every color something in common: death. And how about love? Hormones? Fear? Pain? Sorrow? Anger?
Every human feeling is held by every human being. So let’s write about them, no matter what their race or upbringing. Even if it’s hard. Amend that — especially if it’s hard.
*grin* I thought you were going to say that readers are egomaniacs ;D
“Thus endeth the rant.” I love it. And I love how you address this topic. Everyone’s experience IS unique, and that shouldn’t stop you from writing about a culture/people/race/time different than your own.
Oh, and have you heard about a new publishing company that is starting up? It’s called Tu Publishing (world domination through excellent books). 🙂 They want to publish multicultural fantasy and science fiction for YA and children. I thought it might be something you’d be interested in getting behind. They are in the fundraising phase right now to get started.
It may amuse you to learn that very recently I got an email from someone correcting me vis-a-vis my use of southern-isms in the Eden books — accusing me of using it wrong, and/or suggesting that I didn’t know any real southern people, because if I did, I’d know they don’t talk like that.
I did a little lol.
But yeah. There’s no pleasing everybody 🙂
Cherie: Aren’t you from Florida? That’s not the real South!
Completely agree Justine. Writing fiction is about imagination plus some research – not autobiography. My mc is white, admittedly, but he’s 14, male and Catholic – I’m 40-somewhat, female and Jewish. I’ve got a few black characters, their ethnicity isn’t the main thing about them, it’s just a strand in their identity. Just as one character is disabled. People are people, not labels.
HAHA @ Florida not being the real South! 🙂
But seriously, this is a brilliant post, and one that needs to be written and read. Recently, I was working on a project where the main character’s best friend was Latin American. One reader made a comment that I shouldn’t have made her Latin American, I should have just made her white like the main character to keep the story simple. All those cultural details, he said, cluttered up the story because it was details *he* couldn’t relate to. I wish I had this post to refer him to then.
Keren David: I’ve got a few black characters, their ethnicity isn’t the main thing about them, it’s just a strand in their identity. Just as one character is disabled. People are people, not labels.
I’m sure you didn’t intend it but the way you’re sentence stands it reads like you see being black and being disabled as equivalents. Race is not merely a “label”. That comes close to trivialising difference. Growing up black or Asian or Hispanic in the US is a profoundly different experience to growing up white. No matter what your class.
One of the criticisms of many white writers writing people who aren’t white is that we simply write white characters but say they’re black. That they wind up not being at all believable.
So, yes, we absolutely are all human and we all bleed, but our individual sense of our selves in the world, and the way other people treat us, is profoundly affected by our race, gender, class, sexuality and whether we’re able bodied as well as a whole range of other factors. Skin colour is not a hat that can be taken on and off.
Which is why it’s so hard to write people who have such different experiences from yourself. And why it’s so easy to get it wrong. And why, no matter how conscientious you are and how hard you work at it, you will get it wrong for some people and that will hurt them. Because you are trampling on their experiences, their life. It’s incredibly important to always keep that in mind.
Because it’s not just that we white writers get it wrong it’s that getting it wrong can have harmful effects.
Without derailing from the discussion at hand, which is about race, I’d like to quickly note that being differently abled is not “just a label” either, but also profoundly impacts the way in which people live their lives and are perceived by others. (Moreover, these aren’t distinct categories – there are plenty of disabled people of colour. Non-privileged identities also interact, and anti-oppression work that recognises intersectionality tends to be much stronger and more inclusive.)
That said, right on Justine. As you know, my position is more “Yes, you might be scared about writing of cultures not your own, but that doesn’t remove the ethical implications of not doing so.”
Well I hope it was perfectly obvious that I wasn’t equating being black with having a disability, although sadly other people’s prejudice can impose limitations that might feel disabling. I was just making the point that we should imagine people first, ‘issues’ later – they might be any colour, age or religion, have all sorts of challenges and problems and as writers be able to use our many skills to make them real.
Oh and I’m not in the US. My experience is in the UK.
An excellent blog that brings up many good points. I wrote a novel in the voice of a girl who is half black and half white, who is struggling with her racial identity. I consulted friends about things I wasn’t sure about (as a white author)and did the best job I could but I still worried about it.
I was thinking about it the other day and I also wrote a novel from the point of view of a boy and I certainly am not a boy either. Writers do not always “write what we know” . I guess sometimes we write what we’re curious about or what we’re compelled to write about. Sometimes that is Vampires and sometimes it’s cultures or racial identities different from our own. We do the best we can, right?
“Because it’s not just that we white writers get it wrong it’s that getting it wrong can have harmful effects.”
Do you think that’s why some white writers are uncomfortable? Because continuing to write only white characters in their books seems to them immoral, but they are afraid that they may hurt someone or even lots of people if they try and fail? After all, if you are describing NYC and you put the subway entrance on the wrong side of the street, who have you hurt, really? What if someone comes up to you and says, “You wrote these other books I liked, so I trusted you. You suckered me in and then betrayed me.” What then, if you look at your own book and see that they are RIGHT? That after trying your best, you have no pants on? Sure, maybe you are an egomaniac and all you care about is your own humiliation in that situation. But maybe you are a moral person afraid of hurting other people by accident.
I liked it when you “Own it.” If you really think you can’t do it well, then don’t.
I would rather see a white author try to write a book about a poc then not try to write one at all.
As a reader, I would take into consideration the fact that this white author probably researched the character’s background as best as he/she could and I would appreciate that they tried. As long as you talk to people with similar backgrounds to your character, research and are respectful, go for it!
I don’t think readers would be really hurt unless a racial slur or hurtful sterotype was used (which is highly unlikely).
We need to see more poc and LGBTQ in YA books.
I think it’s the 5-minute hate they’re worried about. But you’re right: suck it up and be true to your muse. Let the characters fall where they may.
I totally agree with you, though I can understand the fear that authors have when deciding to write about people from different cultures.
I’m currently doing a uni course that is, essentially, about Literature in a schooling context (a uni course on YA Lit? Yes, it is awesome) and we’ve just done two weeks on Indigenous Australian Literature. In the course readings, it was noted that a lot of the time when white people write about Indigenous characters they get torn to shreds because they’re not black and therefore (supposedly) don’t have the “right” to write about Indigenous issues. It was an argument I felt was particularly odd. Though, to their credit, a few of these white authors (Eg. James Moloney) came out and argued against this ridiculous notion by saying how it never once crossed his mind that just because he wasn’t Indigenous that he couldn’t write stories about Indigenous people.
After all, like someone pointed out, the same logic leads to the argument that a man can’t write about women, or that women can’t write about men. Or that because I’m only twenty that I can’t write about a fifteen year old, or someone who’s thirty. Etc.
Well Said. I am critical of Black characters created by White authors but I just want them to get it right. Its not enough for a writer to put Black or African American in front of a characters name. I need to believe in the character.
Unfortunately, there is no how to write a Black character book, nor should there be because our experiences are different. What I deem to be a spot on Black character another Black reader may quickly dismiss.
I wish I could say what makes me believe in a Black character but I can’t I just know it when I see it.
I finally read E. Lockhart’s YA novel Dramarama. Its was a great and I absoultey loved Demi. He’s is one of the primary characters. He is also a Black gay teen.
Justine, I’ve been trying to get rid of the cast of thousands at my shoulder as I work on my latest, which includes a girl from an (unidentified) Middle Eastern background, amongst other things (sex! incest! poor girls made good!). I have had dreams of being full of an auditorium full of critical people, slamming me for this or that or the other thing, as in fact does happen (less literally) once things get into the public sphere. But this post has helped me dispel the critical crowds, or at least feel slightly less crippled by the prospect of them. Thank you.
Here’s a thought — you can try defusing the issue within your story. To use Karen Mahoney’s scene as an example, her white protag could bring up some stereotypes that didn’t occur and have her Indian friend ask if all Indians are expected to be exactly the same. Or something like, “Well, six nights a week it’s curry, but you just happened to visit on pizza night.”
Justine, *love*. That is all.
Beth,
Those kinds of people make me sigh. I don’t know what to do to get them to a) understand that the world doesn’t revolve around them and b) take an interest in the people not like him.
Two years ago I had a woman approach me at a book signing indicating that she was offended that I wrote a character by the name of Mrs. Nussbaum that was offensive to Jews. Mind you, this character only appeared for about 3 pages, but this woman pointed out that Mrs. Nussbaum was abrasive and pushy and had the only “ethnic” name in my novel. She was pretty much right about this.
In chatting with her, it came out that I am Jewish myself and that completely disarmed this woman. She told me that she couldn’t very well be offended if I’m Jewish too.
This interaction struck me as very interesting and I came to realize that there really is a double standard when it comes to what is and is not appropriate. It’s like you have a wider berth if you are of the particular group you are characterizing.
And this I do not like. Enough that in my second novel I avoided use of the “n” word even though I knew in my heart that it needed to be in there. And Justine, you are the only one who has called me on this issue thus far.
But I think this is the region we as writers should be exploring. With every word we write we are making observations and if these observations don’t ruffle a few feathers then what are we doing it for?
Eric: It’s really complicated. On the one hand, yes, if you are part of the group you are writing about you will know it inside out and you will get more leeway from your readers because they take your expertise as a given. But on the other hand, the insider writing the book often cops more criticism by a country mile.
For instance Ntozake Shange’s For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf has been viciously attacked over the years by (mostly) African-American men for being anti-male and letting the side down. There are heaps of other examples. I’ve seen strong criticisms of Coe Booth’s Tyrell for not showing a “positive” picture of African-American life and, yes, letting her people down.
I’ve seen Jewish writers attacked by other Jews for being self-hating Jews. Etc. etc.
So I’m not sure I agree with you. I think all writers get attacked over the issue of representation. I don’t see a double standard there.
I get why it’s more fraught for a white writer to use the “n” word than it is for a black writer. It should be more fraught. We white writers should think about it long and hard. Because historically we’re the ones who’ve done the damage with it.
So, yeah, I thought it was absolutely appropriate that the character in Bug Boy would say that word give the setting and that character’s attitudes. I would have used it had I written Bug Boy but I suspect it would not have gotten past editorial. I suspect that’s true of most YA publishing houses.
I used the word “nappy” in Liar because it’s the word Micah would use. But as it’s a word that black communities are very divided over I thought long and hard about it. I read lots of pro and con arguments about the word. I talked to many friends about it. And decided to keep the word but, yes, it has upset some readers and I feel bad about that. But I also think it was the right decision.
Do I think I’ll attract more criticism for using the word because I’m white? Probably not. You just have to look at the debate over Carolivia Herron’s Nappy Hair to see that black authors get attacked as well. They’re absolutely not immune.
I think we need to be more careful because a white person using those words is more offensive. But plenty of white writers use the “n” word and don’t attract tonnes of criticism. I’m thinking of Richard Price’s work, such as Clockers and the writers of The Wire in particular. But there are other examples.
Justine, I agree. It’s like there is “heat” either way, but the heat is very different. If you are not part of the group, the heat is that of an outsider who doesn’t really know what he/she is talking about and should really keep his stupid mouth shut. If you are part of the group, you are a traitor and/or a sell out, not to mention self-loathing.
Either way there is heat and as an author this sort of heat does not feel good. However, I think that if we are not approaching these risky topics because of the fear of the heat, then we are doing a disservice to our readers and ourselves.
“I’ve been accused of promoting teenage pregnancy, homosexuality, and underage drinking.” Where can I buy me that there book of yours, Justine?
Nice post! As a writer you have to be open to criticism no matter what. As an avid reader, from an Indian background, I actually have a problem with the way some Indian authors portray their Indian characters. Maybe that’s because I identify more with a white person in terms of values etc. So I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s hard to please everyone. And I think that’s true of human beings in general.
I’ve posted my thoughts on this on my own blog, but I just want to clarify, here, that I think Justine is stressing the importance of doing deep and adequate research before writing characters of Colour, *writing* them, and then facing the consequences, whatever those might be — whether it is praise, criticism, rage, people telling you you got it wrong, right, whatever.
Well said, angharad @ #17. I would add that the point (as I read it) is to not sit in fear, and to go out and do the work, then put it out there. Be brave. Take the feedback that *all* writers get. We get lashed at for all kinds of things. We get tons of things terribly wrong. This is no different. It’s a learning curve. So, go out and learn. Once you think you’ve done your very, very best, put it out there and see what comes back. It’s the only way to grow—as a writer, and as a person.
personally, as a latina author who writes authentic people of color books (born in Havana Cuba, raised in a Cuban Miami barrio, and have Afro-Cuban, Chinese-Cuban, LGBTQI friends), i strongly feel most white authors can’t do a POC culture justice in their books by simply “doing the research.” i suggest that you take time off and live among us, eat our food, learn our language (dialect, territorial colloquialisms, etc.). i believe in writing what one knows and this can mean several different things. for instance, i have many white friends who’ve grown up around Cubans. my closest white friend is a blonde, blue-eyed writer/historian who can easily write a Cuban-American book with an all Cuban American cast, as i’ve done. i’m a lesbian now, but i can write books about Cuban men, women and gays because i belong to a Cuban culture and gay subculture and i used to be straight. i know drag queens, lesbians, bi’s kings, trannies, and also straight Cuban males and females, like i know myself: intimately. i also know some white folks i’ve been roommates with and feel confident i can write about them. I also know closely all sorts of people (from ill to off-the-wall) and these are the one’s i venture to write about
in other words. i think that in order to get it right, it’s about writing what you know (or have known intimately). there are few white folks who can get away with writing “authentic” POC characters without even having them as friends. once again, i suggest you get to know the folks you’re writing about intimately, especially if they form part of a community of which outsiders know little about.
white authors, you should be scared, VERY scared… lol… ok, seriously, you should be worried because many POC feel you are stealing their souls. we’ve never, ever had your same opportunities. as an africanam friend would say, “the times of white people painting their faces black in hollywood are over.” why don’t you sit back and allow us to get our work published while you keep writing what you know until we catch up? shouldn’t it be about equal opportunity? if so, please consider giving us a chance to make our mark(about 90 percent of all books are written by white authors).
on the other hand, having been born in a communist country with censorship, please, write what you want, but just know that even though you have every right to write whatever you wish, you’ll hurt some of us. many POC’s won’t be as forgiving, but some will. to some POC’s it will feel as if you are stealing from them… don’t you want POC to write their our own books?
This was truly an excellent post! Thanks! Also thanks to the comments on this post who have given me so much to think about!
I think every choice we make for our characters impacts who they are (some more than others) – skin color, where they grow up, how their body looks, whether they’re religious, etc. Even things like whether their mother had diabetes will change the way our characters see the world — it’s up to us to try to make those parts into the whole and sometimes readers see us as getting it right and other times as us getting it wrong and we keep trying.
Neesha Meminger: Thank you and exactly. I don’t think that came through as clearly in my post as I would like. But it comes through very very clearly in your post. I hope everyone reads it. Too many white writers seem to think that good intentions are enough. But they’re not. White writers like me have to not only be respectful, but listen. Listen really hard.
Mayra Lazara Dole: Thank you. What you’ve said is some of what I was trying to get across in my comments further upstream. White privilege means being able to write these stories without worrying too much about the consequences for other people when those consequences are very real.
And asbolutely all writers should write what they know. The vast majority of writers writing of a culture they’ve never experienced are going to bugger it up. When that culture is a living one (i.e. you’re not writing an historical) you will be called on your failures. More to the point you should be called on them.
Thanks, Justine, for this thought-provoking post, and to Neesha, whose blog posting brought me here. This is a tricky issue and for a long time I thought it was probably better for white authors not to write books about people of color – or at least when I was working at Children’s Book Press and Lee & Low Books, my efforts were primarily towards finding authors and illustrators of color. This is because this field is and has been so dominated by white authors who have often gotten it wrong. And because there is such a lack of books published by authors of color, writing books that authentically and specifically represent the lives of their characters. Now I can see why we need both – that we need many books featuring diverse characters. And since the field is still unfortunately dominated by books published by white authors (and by publishers dominated by white staff, etc.) – then this needs to become everyone’s responsibility in some way (including working to diversify the publishing world and its outlook). So yes – it’s a matter of how white authors go about this. Jacqueline Woodson wrote a great article on this published in The Horn Book Many years ago called “Who Can Tell My Story.” (comminfo.rutgers.edu/professional-development/childlit/books/Woodson.pdf). And it’s linked to what Mayra said about really knowing and living with the people whose experience you are representing. I don’t think just doing book research is enough, or maybe doing a whole lot of reading books written by people from that experience, and doing lots of other research and discussing. So, a tricky issue, but one that is certainly worth grappling with. And if someone, as a white writer, wants to write characters of color – then there’s plenty to draw from in your discussion.
Bravo! I’m halfway through Liar and I finally had to put the book down and find out who this author was who had crawled into my mind and vividly recreated my bi-racial, teenage, trying to find my place in the world existence. I mean really, just whoa!
As an adult, and having a daughter who will someday (gulp!) be a teenager, I think that it is so important to have characters who reflect who you are, how you live, what you look like, etc…, and if the characters are good, I don’t think it matters who writes them.
Intense and important stuff in all these replies to an excellent post. I have read several blogs that argue that non-POC (guess that would be white) should never write about POC because they only get it wrong. I would argue that your race, like your age, should not be the first thing folks are looking at when they read your stuff. If you thought someone was white (and they weren’t)you’d possibly (well, not you, but others would)react completely differently to the book — I’ve seen that dozens of times when folks have thought the author was male (or female) and then found out differently, as well.
Says something about how ‘territorial’ people are about themselves. (men shouldn’t write about women, they can’t “know” them, and vice versa, along with the POC issues.)
Bottom line, I think, is if you think you know something well enough to write about it, then do so. The chips will definitely fall if you get it wrong. And there will always be someone who thinks you did get it wrong (as has been mentioned above, several times) even if you were spot on.
Laura: Thanks so much for the link to the Woodson article. Brilliant stuff.
Elsie: I’m so glad the book is resonating for you. Thank you for letting me know. (And I hope the second half doesn’t let you down.)
Can PoC write about white characters?
Lisa: Absolutely. Check out this post on that very subject by Neesha Meminger.
i am really enjoying your blog. thanks for bringing this up. i will reference this in my paper.
Yes!!! This is excellent! As a teenaged white girl, I will admit to writing many, many CoC. And I understand and accept that some may not be happy with them, but that’s okay. I try my hardest, and can see my white privilage. Nice though, how homosexuality is on the same level as teen pregnancy and underage drinking. (and pedophilia, necrophilia, bestiality, etc. *sigh*)