How Diverse is Your Diversity?
Recently, I’ve come across a lot of people, online and off, discussing diversity in books. What it means; who should be writing it; whose voices ought to be heard; which people should be listening. And rightly so; diversity is at the heart of storytelling. We are all different and unique, whatever our race or culture, and we can only benefit from hearing different voices; looking at different points of view; encountering different perspectives.
However, it seems to me that some of the voices promoting (or opposing) diversity in fiction have quite a narrow understanding of what “diversity” really means.
This is the definition of diversity taken from this academic website: http://www.qcc.cuny.edu/diversity/def...
The concept of diversity encompasses acceptance and respect. It means understanding that each individual is unique, and recognizing our individual differences. These can be along the dimensions of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, age, physical abilities, religious beliefs, political beliefs, or other ideologies. It is the exploration of these differences in a safe, positive, and nurturing environment. It is about understanding each other and moving beyond simple tolerance to embracing and celebrating the rich dimensions of diversity contained within each individual.
So how can writers (and readers, of course) celebrate diversity? Diversity isn’t about tokenism. It’s not about inserting a stereotypical black or Asian or trans or disabled character into your narrative, and declaring yourself a friend of diversity. Nor is it about refusing to read or write anything that doesn’t reflect your personal experience. To appreciate diversity, we first have to think outside the boxes society forces us into, and stop reducing people to a single set of characteristics. We are all more than our skin colour; more than our social background; more than our ideologies; more than our physical ability; more than our gender orientation. We are all multi-faceted beings, and to reduce us to a single aspect of ourselves (be that gender, colour, or anything else) is to deny the many things that bring us together as human beings. Diversity in literature is a means of proving, not just how different we can be, but how essentially alike we are under our differences; and for that, we need many voices, all telling their own stories within a kind, receptive community.
There is often a curious blindness within the writing community. The ardent campaigner for diverse books, whose idea of diversity stops outside of North America; the YA blogger whose Twitter timeline is filled with ageist slurs; the Indian writer who counters a racist comment with an explosion of misogyny – do they really imagine that they’re fighting for diversity? Diversity is inclusive. It’s not about you; it’s not about me. Diversity is about us – people from all backgrounds and races, all with different stories to tell, respectfully sharing perspectives.
So, let’s hear it for diverse voices. But let’s make it real diversity. Not just US diversity, or YA diversity, or LGBT diversity. For every mirror we seek out in books, let’s also seek out a window into a place we’ve never been. Some of those places may not be easy to inhabit. Going there may be a challenge to our preconceptions. But that’s the reason we should try - be that as readers or writers.
Here are some examples of under-represented voices.
1. People with Disabilities.
Disabilities, illnesses and congenital conditions are rarely portrayed positively in literature. When did you last read a book about someone blind or partially sighted? Someone deaf? Quadriplegic? Someone with hydrocephalus? Someone with congenital defects due to the use of Thalidomide? How many books have you ever read about someone with a club foot, a hare-lip, or someone suffering from Parkinson’s Disease? How many literary protagonists are amputees, or stroke victims? How many have Down’s Syndrome, or Cri-du-Chat, or Prader-Willis Syndrome? Outside of the one in Notre-Dame, where are the literary hunchbacks? The fact is, that in spite of a spate of YA books about (young, Western, attractive) people dealing with cancer, illness and disability aren’t considered appealing in the publishing world. And yet, doesn’t everyone deserve to tell their story? Or is physical imperfection still such a taboo that no-one wants to address it?
2. People Who Fail To Conform To Mainstream Ideals of Beauty.
And it’s not just disability. Last week, a new edition of CHOCOLAT came out in the US. The blurb on the back twice describes my heroine as ”beautiful.” I was curious; nowhere in the book had I ever said that Vianne was beautiful – in fact, I’d gone out of my way to suggest that she wasn’t – at least, not conventionally so. So why put it in the book blurb? Probably for the same reason that Maddy, the heroine of my Rune books, has been consistently portrayed on all my book jackets as being quite strikingly beautiful, even though I went out of my way to describe her as unattractive. Ugly is still a dirty word to most people in the industry – but don’t the ones of us who don’t conform to those narrow Hollywood ideals deserve to have mirrors of our own?
3. People of Colour Living Outside America.
Now I’m not suggesting that African-Americans or Native Americans are getting anything like fair or equal treatment when it comes to diverse books. But face it – compared to much of the rest of the world, to be an American is still the definition of privilege. Where are the stories about Africans living in African countries? Where are the Polynesians? Where are the stories from India, Pakistan, Syria or Bangladesh? Where are the Native Australians? Where are the Inuit voices, the voices of Indonesia, Haiti, China, Israel, Palestine? They, too, deserve attention. Because, whatever your ethnicity, being an American citizen confers its own kind of privilege, and to assume that the experience of merely having a certain heritage is the same all over the world is surely dangerously naïve.
4. Old People.
When I first tried to sell CHOCOLAT to publishers, it was rejected several times. One of the recurring complaints was that too many of my characters were old. Old is unattractive, they said. People don’t want to be reminded that one day, they too, will be old. But truly inclusive and diverse books, like diverse societies, understand the importance of representing all the generations. And guess what? The book did just fine. I even got Judi Dench in the film...
5. People With Mental Issues.
Mental issues are still taboo, and not just in society. But one in five people will at some times develop mental issues. Their stories are important, too, and need to be more widely told.
6. People Whose Ideas or Values We May Fundamentally Disagree With.
While books are vehicles for ideas, we may not always share them. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t read (or even tell) the stories of those with differing views: even if the only reason for doing so is to better learn to disagree. Books should be a source of debate; and we should not be afraid of characters who seem to represent values that we ourselves do not share. To shy away from apparently unsympathetic, difficult, morally suspect or otherwise challenging characters is not to support diversity.
7. People of Your Own Social or Ethnic Group Who Don’t Conform To your Idea Of What They Should Do, Or How They Should Identify.
This is especially tricky. But we don’t always agree on what our social and cultural identities should reflect, even within our own communities. However, to be truly diverse, we have to acknowledge that we don’t all hold identical views, or react in the same way, even within our own groups. That means that: not all white people agree on what it means to be white; not all feminists agree on what it means to be a feminist; not all Muslims or Jews agree on what it means to be a Muslim or a Jew. It doesn’t mean you have to change any of the things you believe – but what it does mean is that those who don’t agree with you have exactly the same rights as you do, when it comes to determining who they are and what they believe, and, like you, they too, have the right to tell their stories however they choose.
And so, go forth and be diverse. Tell stories from all over the world. Allow your characters to be real; that means, to be imperfect. That means sometimes not conforming to your comfortable ideas of self. That means looking hard at yourself as well as at other people. But isn’t that a writer’s job? And isn’t this what our stories are for?
However, it seems to me that some of the voices promoting (or opposing) diversity in fiction have quite a narrow understanding of what “diversity” really means.
This is the definition of diversity taken from this academic website: http://www.qcc.cuny.edu/diversity/def...
The concept of diversity encompasses acceptance and respect. It means understanding that each individual is unique, and recognizing our individual differences. These can be along the dimensions of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, age, physical abilities, religious beliefs, political beliefs, or other ideologies. It is the exploration of these differences in a safe, positive, and nurturing environment. It is about understanding each other and moving beyond simple tolerance to embracing and celebrating the rich dimensions of diversity contained within each individual.
So how can writers (and readers, of course) celebrate diversity? Diversity isn’t about tokenism. It’s not about inserting a stereotypical black or Asian or trans or disabled character into your narrative, and declaring yourself a friend of diversity. Nor is it about refusing to read or write anything that doesn’t reflect your personal experience. To appreciate diversity, we first have to think outside the boxes society forces us into, and stop reducing people to a single set of characteristics. We are all more than our skin colour; more than our social background; more than our ideologies; more than our physical ability; more than our gender orientation. We are all multi-faceted beings, and to reduce us to a single aspect of ourselves (be that gender, colour, or anything else) is to deny the many things that bring us together as human beings. Diversity in literature is a means of proving, not just how different we can be, but how essentially alike we are under our differences; and for that, we need many voices, all telling their own stories within a kind, receptive community.
There is often a curious blindness within the writing community. The ardent campaigner for diverse books, whose idea of diversity stops outside of North America; the YA blogger whose Twitter timeline is filled with ageist slurs; the Indian writer who counters a racist comment with an explosion of misogyny – do they really imagine that they’re fighting for diversity? Diversity is inclusive. It’s not about you; it’s not about me. Diversity is about us – people from all backgrounds and races, all with different stories to tell, respectfully sharing perspectives.
So, let’s hear it for diverse voices. But let’s make it real diversity. Not just US diversity, or YA diversity, or LGBT diversity. For every mirror we seek out in books, let’s also seek out a window into a place we’ve never been. Some of those places may not be easy to inhabit. Going there may be a challenge to our preconceptions. But that’s the reason we should try - be that as readers or writers.
Here are some examples of under-represented voices.
1. People with Disabilities.
Disabilities, illnesses and congenital conditions are rarely portrayed positively in literature. When did you last read a book about someone blind or partially sighted? Someone deaf? Quadriplegic? Someone with hydrocephalus? Someone with congenital defects due to the use of Thalidomide? How many books have you ever read about someone with a club foot, a hare-lip, or someone suffering from Parkinson’s Disease? How many literary protagonists are amputees, or stroke victims? How many have Down’s Syndrome, or Cri-du-Chat, or Prader-Willis Syndrome? Outside of the one in Notre-Dame, where are the literary hunchbacks? The fact is, that in spite of a spate of YA books about (young, Western, attractive) people dealing with cancer, illness and disability aren’t considered appealing in the publishing world. And yet, doesn’t everyone deserve to tell their story? Or is physical imperfection still such a taboo that no-one wants to address it?
2. People Who Fail To Conform To Mainstream Ideals of Beauty.
And it’s not just disability. Last week, a new edition of CHOCOLAT came out in the US. The blurb on the back twice describes my heroine as ”beautiful.” I was curious; nowhere in the book had I ever said that Vianne was beautiful – in fact, I’d gone out of my way to suggest that she wasn’t – at least, not conventionally so. So why put it in the book blurb? Probably for the same reason that Maddy, the heroine of my Rune books, has been consistently portrayed on all my book jackets as being quite strikingly beautiful, even though I went out of my way to describe her as unattractive. Ugly is still a dirty word to most people in the industry – but don’t the ones of us who don’t conform to those narrow Hollywood ideals deserve to have mirrors of our own?
3. People of Colour Living Outside America.
Now I’m not suggesting that African-Americans or Native Americans are getting anything like fair or equal treatment when it comes to diverse books. But face it – compared to much of the rest of the world, to be an American is still the definition of privilege. Where are the stories about Africans living in African countries? Where are the Polynesians? Where are the stories from India, Pakistan, Syria or Bangladesh? Where are the Native Australians? Where are the Inuit voices, the voices of Indonesia, Haiti, China, Israel, Palestine? They, too, deserve attention. Because, whatever your ethnicity, being an American citizen confers its own kind of privilege, and to assume that the experience of merely having a certain heritage is the same all over the world is surely dangerously naïve.
4. Old People.
When I first tried to sell CHOCOLAT to publishers, it was rejected several times. One of the recurring complaints was that too many of my characters were old. Old is unattractive, they said. People don’t want to be reminded that one day, they too, will be old. But truly inclusive and diverse books, like diverse societies, understand the importance of representing all the generations. And guess what? The book did just fine. I even got Judi Dench in the film...
5. People With Mental Issues.
Mental issues are still taboo, and not just in society. But one in five people will at some times develop mental issues. Their stories are important, too, and need to be more widely told.
6. People Whose Ideas or Values We May Fundamentally Disagree With.
While books are vehicles for ideas, we may not always share them. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t read (or even tell) the stories of those with differing views: even if the only reason for doing so is to better learn to disagree. Books should be a source of debate; and we should not be afraid of characters who seem to represent values that we ourselves do not share. To shy away from apparently unsympathetic, difficult, morally suspect or otherwise challenging characters is not to support diversity.
7. People of Your Own Social or Ethnic Group Who Don’t Conform To your Idea Of What They Should Do, Or How They Should Identify.
This is especially tricky. But we don’t always agree on what our social and cultural identities should reflect, even within our own communities. However, to be truly diverse, we have to acknowledge that we don’t all hold identical views, or react in the same way, even within our own groups. That means that: not all white people agree on what it means to be white; not all feminists agree on what it means to be a feminist; not all Muslims or Jews agree on what it means to be a Muslim or a Jew. It doesn’t mean you have to change any of the things you believe – but what it does mean is that those who don’t agree with you have exactly the same rights as you do, when it comes to determining who they are and what they believe, and, like you, they too, have the right to tell their stories however they choose.
And so, go forth and be diverse. Tell stories from all over the world. Allow your characters to be real; that means, to be imperfect. That means sometimes not conforming to your comfortable ideas of self. That means looking hard at yourself as well as at other people. But isn’t that a writer’s job? And isn’t this what our stories are for?
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message 1:
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Radhika
(new)
Nov 14, 2015 08:55AM
The stories from, of and by Indians, Pakistanis, etc. are being widely published and read in each respective country. Especially in India, which has a large, growing and diverse publishing ecosystem.
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