We Need Diverse Books. And Some Soul Searching

If you follow anything having to do with books for young people, you're doubtless aware of the We Need Diverse Books phenomenon.  What began as a hashtag has now turned into a full-blown Indiegogo campaign aiming to do something I'm not exactly clear on. 

I wish the campaign well, but I'm skeptical of its ability to do much of anything, largely because of the tone of the whole thing, which is overwhelmingly self-congratulatory. Not that I'm against a little self-congratulation, but let's be clear: the lack of diversity in literature for young people isn't some agenda pushed on us by some evil other entity; it's something all of us involved in this field did. 

When the hashtag was just about some dumb panel at a dumb convention, you could realistically say okay, we're demanding of the convention organizers that they use their heads. But now that it's about literature in general, we're never going to get more diversity in young people's literature unless we examine our parts in creating the current situation.

I'm not optimistic. The indiegogo page features a video from John Green, a white guy, who mouths some platitudes about "the other" or something rather than saying, "wow, maybe I should stop writing about the same white boy over and over."

Now yes, John Green's a big star and the leader of a creepy cult of personality, so I understand why you'd use him to try to squeeze some cash out of people.  

But come on.  

People who are not straight white men and women didn't just start writing books.  So who are we making this demand of? Publishers?  Fair enough, but riddle me this: publishers gave you great stuff by Coe Booth, Mitali Perkins, and Padma Venkatraman, just to name three off the top of my head that I read and liked, and you didn't make them big hits.  Why is that? Publishers' number one agenda is to make money, and I guarantee if a book like Coe Booth's Tyrell had made stacks of cash, you'd see at least twelve books featuring guys with braids on the cover on the shelves at your local bookstore.

So here we go with some questions for lots of people:

1.) Agents and Publishers: Do you use unpaid internships? These ensure that the young people who get to build networks in publishing are the kind of people who have enough money that they can afford to work, even part-time, for free.  To give you an idea of how limiting this is, I am a white guy who attended an Ivy League university and at no point did I have the option to work for free, especially in a city as expensive as New York. You'll get a better mix of perspectives if you find other ways to get young people into the industry.

2.) Middle- and upper-class white authors:  Are your white characters aware of being white, or do they think of themselves as "just people?"  Do you know that only white people get to think like that? Similarly, do your characters or anyone in their families ever worry about money? Did you know only people with lots of money get to think like that? Do you have any characters in your books who are different from you in some significant way? (Hint: you're going to have to meet and hang out with some people from different backgrounds and experiences if you're going to be able to write them credibly.)

3.)Librarians, booksellers, readers, bloggers, buyers, etc.: Are you considering diversity in your buying, reading, and reviewing decisions? Are you actively trying to get books about people who are not middle class white, straight, neurotypical able-bodied people into the hands of your readers, patrons, and friends?Would you consider a book with a gay protagonist "A good LBTQ book" or just "a good book?" (Substitute any other group for gay in there too.)

Also: Are you helping to create the climate of fear that keeps many writers from even attempting to write about people who are not them? There's a particularly pernicious idea afoot that artists only have permission to write about things they've experienced personally, and that it's a terrible affront if they do otherwise. I guess the people who propagate this philosophy might mean well, but they are really stifling diversity in literature even as they seek to promote it.  Something to think about.  A lot of writers just stay away from writing about anyone who isn't them for fear of mobs of angry commenters.  I'm not saying you shouldn't challenge people who do things badly or who reinforce bad ideas, but maybe dial back the vitriol a little bit so that people will feel more free to take chances. 

If you are a person involved in literature for young people and you have been asking yourself some tough questions about your part in making things the way they are, then good for you.  And, I mean, throw some money at the crowdfunding campaign, I guess, but please recognize that the solution to this problem won't come from a campaign or a hashtag: it's got to come from you.

Next time: I'll examine my own YA books under this lens and share the results with you.