All That Chazz: Your Brain Tickle Destination

Recently I was struck by a post by someone telling us what not to say. The plea came as a strike against cultural appropriation. This can be a dangerous path. Here’s how I navigate this debate when I’m writing fiction.

Monoculture is boring

Literary society in the West has been too monochromatic for too long. By that I mean it’s been filled with white people telling stories solely about white people. White guys owned the big publishing companies. Most women who worked in traditional publishing were either on the front line selling books in bookstores, writing books or in the editorial end of the business. There were not a lot of people of color in that mix.

In the ’80s in Canada, a marginalized group of writers came up with an idea that did not fly. They proposed that white people should only write about white people. Leave other cultures alone, thank you very much, and let minorities and the oppressed tell their own stories. The response at that time was basically that writers of any color or creed should write what they want. It’s up to readers to decide whether they will buy it. We shouldn’t self-censor (or be “pushed around”) depending on how you felt about the demand.)

In recent years, this idea has resurfaced and gained steam. The tac is slightly different now. The phrases you’ll see frequently focus on the following phrases: “not your stories to tell,” “cultural appropriation,” and “check your privilege.” I am a bit conflicted about this because most people who feel this way are not trying to censor me. They are trying to be sensitive to a history of colonization where white guys feel entitled to own everything or exploit anything. Yeah, that’s not good.

But what about reflecting the world as it is?

In a recent review of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, the folks at Pop Culture Happy Hour praised the show for the writers’ depiction of Captain Holt, a gay African American man who dealt with homophobia as he climbed the ranks of the NYPD. It’s a fine comedy that somehow navigates these waters in a way everyone loves. Holt is gay, but that’s not a joke. He’s black, but that’s not a joke. These are aspects of his identity that are treated sensitively. His personhood is not denied, watered down, stereotypical or incidental.

That success is quite a contrast to the short shrift female characters got in Star Trek (both the original and TNG). I loved STTNG, yes. However, I rarely felt they wrote well for women. I guess this is my way of pointing out that when we write women and minorities well, it’s rightly celebrated. Perhaps the problem is that it’s not done well often enough.

The loss of representation

Years ago I watched a John Travolta movie that everyone has probably forgotten. White Man’s Burden was released in 1995. Here’s the description: “In an alternate universe, successful African-Americans live in gated communities, while impoverished Caucasians populate crime-ridden inner-city ghettos.”

The best of this film was how it turned our world on itself. A white child clicks the remote on the TV. She sees no one of her race on television. She is not represented at all in mainstream culture and it’s clear she has no place among the elite, celebrated or wealthy. In another scene, a black clothing designer comes out on the stage surrounded by a gaggle cute little white kids. It’s a great satire and a righteous skewering of cultural norms. Using cute little black children as props used to be a real thing.

I’m old enough to remember commercials for fast food outlets that were segregated. You could go to the black McDonald’s or the white McDonald’s but the streams did not cross.

What happens when we cross the streams. I imagine racists imagines it would the same as the worry from Ghostbusters: “It would be bad… Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.”

Geek cred achieved. Back to racism and perceived racism in literature…

Reality is diverse. Fiction should be, too.

I want my novels (yes, even and especially the science fiction) to reflect our world. Mirroring reality is how fiction works. Recognizing a familiar context is how strong fiction connects to readers. For instance, much of the feedback I have received on AFTER Life is so positive because it takes place in our world. Readers dig the story because “it could happen.” It’s a zombie apocalypse novel that starts when we lose control of nanotechnology. Diversity of the series’ cast and realistic details allow the suspension of disbelief.

I’m a white guy who is a member of a mixed race family. I don’t claim any special insight into Asian culture. However, I want Asian characters and black characters in my stories because diversity reflects our world. Though some might say I should censor myself, that would take away one of my writing tools.

Any agent will tell you they don’t want yet another story about middle-aged white guy existential angst. I’m open to all kinds of stories and I don’t want to limit myself. I want my fiction to roam free in the literary universe. How would self-censorship end? I guess I’d have to mimic Portnoy’s Complaint with an Irish protagonist for the rest of my life. No, that’s not going to work.

Fragmentation into more monocultures isn’t going to bring about world peace. Diversity and representation across cultures might solve a lot of problems, though.

All that stipulated, I don’t aspire to offend with the (other) F-word, the R-word or the N-word. I don’t want to tell a First Nations story that is too far outside of my experience. However, I can write characters from varied backgrounds without poaching their experience or plagiarizing their fables.

One of my favorite characters from This Plague of Days was a black South African woman living in England. Dr. Chloe Robinson from AFTER Life is the engineer behind AFTER. Joshua, in my new thriller, is an American of Philippine heritage who lives on the wrong side of the law. The physiotherapist who emerges to play a key role in Dream’s Dark Flight is an African American woman. I’m writing these characters like people we all know. These are, in most respects, ordinary people places in extraordinary circumstances: no Mary Sues, no othering, no idealization and no racist stereotypes.

I want to write compelling fiction. Real world details provide a context that makes the fantastical elements believable. I live in a diverse world and I want readers of many backgrounds to be able to see themselves in the pages of my books. I think I can achieve that aim with sensitivity because my intent is pure. I’m pretty sure most readers recognize that.

A writer’s experience does inform their writing but I’m far less interested in the writer than the writing. There is a mistake around the consumption of fiction that is quite common. Readers assume writers of erotica are all sexpots and if you write action adventure, it would be best if you’re a male ex-CIA operative. That’s not only silly given the vast research resources available, it divides and limits us. The ghettoization of literature is not good for readers.

Ghettoization. Hm. Aye, there’s the rub. Balkanization might be a better word choice but maybe not. Some readers look for opportunities to be offended and others actually enjoy the self-righteous high condemnation yields. Take the word ghetto. Boombox is the preferred term because ghetto has racist undertones. However, if you assumed ghetto has a racist subtext against blacks, you might be triggered for the wrong reasons. Here’s the quick internet pull on that complex etymology: Early 17th century; perhaps from Italian getto ‘foundry’ (because the first ghetto was established in 1516 on the site of a foundry in Venice), or from Italian borghetto, diminutive of borgo ‘borough.’ Ghettoization was originally aimed at Jews.

We must also recognize that the cultural rules change and not everyone gets the memo at the same speed. Twice in the last three months, I noticed someone objecting to the cultural appropriation implied with the use of the phrase “spirit animal.” This was news to me but I’m glad to avoid its use. That particular phrase didn’t come up in my lexicon often and I’m not invested in offending anyone. (I’d also appreciate getting the benefit of the doubt if I screw up due to sheer ignorance of the shifting tides.)

There are also folks who are a little too interested in defending their privilege in the name of anti-censorship. I hope you feel by now that my position is more nuanced than that. There are those who will say that language that ingrains racist stereotypes may not be helpful but it’s not important enough for them to worry about. In other words, we are wasting our time or are too sensitive. Snowflakes, for short.

I don’t agree with that, either.

As John Cleese has said, snowflake is a term used to devalue the virtue of empathy. All language, messaging, art and nuance matter. 1984 taught us that words have the power to shape ideas or destroy them. If you mislabel a government shutdown as a strike, for instance, you’re trying to deceive someone.

Writers and readers respect language. Is the potential for cultural appropriation implied in “spirit animal” more important than the ongoing water poisoning crisis in Flint, Michigan? That tragedy is rooted in racism and no, a spirit animal meme is not life and death. However, we spend an average of eighteen minutes just trying to find something to watch on Netflix. Surely, we can try to solve both those problems and many more.

Don’t get too distracted by people who don’t have time to worry about minor racial offences. Most of those people aren’t really worried about the major abominations, either. They’re just trying to skate on civil rights violations and don’t give a single shit about the brown and black people poisoned in Flint. 

The good news

Fortunately, since around 2009 forward, we are in a new era of writing and publishing. There is more meritocracy, more diversity and less gatekeeping that insisted on too much monoculture. A privileged elite is not steering the cultural bus anymore. They’ve been replaced by more options from smaller operators in a fragmented marketplace of ideas.

The new world of books offers a wider and more varied experience. Representation by more and varied authors is here and their characters will reflect that diversity, too. I’m glad. That’s the world I want my kids to live in. I didn’t care for the world when artificial divisions erected barriers to mutual understanding and love.

I will continue to include characters of different races, faiths, beliefs, sexual orientation and gender identities. Any character inside or outside of fiction can be relatable to an open heart. People who object to inclusiveness in favor of a white monoculture don’t interest me. If a racist world makes them feel more comfortable, their amygdalas are hijacked. Those readers are not among the demographics I wish to serve. That’s okay. There are plenty of other readers and I suspect there are more of them with each new generation.