One question I’m frequently asked about All She Ever Wanted is “Why did you write about racism?”
It’s a question I expected to get. Still the answer doesn’t fit neatly into a soundbite. Among the short answers I give are include “Because I wish everyone could see they have more in common than not.” or “Because I want people to know that good and bad have nothing to do with skin color.” or “Because I’ve seen too much of it.”
Those aren’t bad answers, but they’re also not complete answers.
If I was African American or, frankly, any race other than Caucasian, I doubt people would feel the need to ask the question. A college friend put it to me bluntly when he said “No matter what you can never fully understand my experience.” That’s true, but I can understand my own experience and try to find common ground in others’ experiences. Maya Angelou says “We are more alike than different.” I believe that’s true on a fundamental basis.
In some ways the story dates back to my youth. I grew up in a small, all-white town in Kentucky where, of course, I attended an all-white school. This was the seventies and eighties, so we’re not talking about segregation just the way things were. It’s not so unusual as one might think in rulral Southern towns for people to share the same skin color.
There was an African American couple who spent weekends at my grandparents home and had since my Mom was a child. They were descendents of slaves. It’s hard for me to believe now, but I was a teenager before I realized this couple was “black”. It was at the wife’s funeral when I met their family. No one had ever told me, and I never thought about it. I remember playing with their grandchildren at my grandparents, but even those memories don’t stand out as noting any difference between us, so I’m not sure why it became so clear at the funeral except that my parents talked about it. My strongest memory from that day has nothing to do with race. It has to do with a private moment I inadvertantly witnessed. I began to feel the need for quiet and wandered away from the crowd. I stepped into the hallway and saw the husband looking at a table of photos. He apparently needed a moment alone. I stood quietly at the end of hall trying to decide what to do. He picked up a photo and sank into a nearby chair clasping the photo to his chest. He murmured. “Oh, my Bessie.” and bowed his head. I think he was crying. I slipped away allowing him his moment alone. I found a piece of paper in my purse and scribbled a poem on it then returned to the others. He joined the adults a short time later. I watched him laugh and exchange stories with them, but in my heart he was that loving husband sitting in the hallway longing for his wife. And, I knew in that moment, that was the kind of love I wanted in my life. And, it had nothing to do with skin color.
What does that have to do with my decision to write about racism? you may ask.
The experience stuck with me, and when I was later called names for hanging out with African American friends, I remembered that moment. Honestly, I was quite sheltered because the first time someone lobbed the phrase “n***** lover” at me, I didn’t have the good sense to keep quiet. I turned and said “And proud of it.” At which point, my African American male friend, shook his head, and whispered. “Are you trying to get me beat up?” I replied. “What? You didn’t do anything.” His reply was to shake his head and steer me away from the bully. It went against my nature to keep walking as my friend instructed me was the smart thing to do.
Moments like this as well as friendships I had while in college inspired me to tackle racism head on in a work of fiction.
Often, when we explore issues like racism in fiction we may reach someone we’d otherwise never reach. A work of fiction can make someone feel something they may not have felt otherwise that opens their eyes to the possibility of change. Fiction provides a safe place for a reader to open his or her heart and mind to identify with the characters and possibly transfer that identification to real life situations when they appear.
When I sat down to write the words that didn’t survive my final edits “Elegance exuded from Victoria as she entered the room.”, I didn’t realize I was going to write about racism. I even fought the idea because I didn’t think I knew how to write about it. As the words flowed onto the page, I began to connect with my main characters, Victoria and Daryn. Their story of friendship and the trials they faced to keep that friendship were all too real to me. The racism in the book weaved itself in because it was a part of their life experience, and because it was an experience I understood, at least from Victoria’s point of view.
I wrote about racism in an attempt to instigate conversation and to encourage people to see one another as people first, so, in reality, the soundbite answers I give people are fairly good summaries of my reasons. I’m not fully pleased with this answer either because I feel I could write volumes on the importance of accepting other peoples and embracing other cultures. And, so much more goes into my reason for writing about racism. The solution to most of the ills of the world relate right back to how we view our fellow human beings on this earth.
And, I will touch on this topic again, so stay tuned.
As readers will know, I feel writing should be used to make a difference in the world. To that end, I submitted an essay, The Gift of You, to Be the Star You Are! for the book Be the Star You Are! for Teens.
Yesterday afternoon Cynthia Brian interviewed me on Starstyle!-Be the Star You Are! Radio. We discussed racism, family, farming, and the importance of being yourself. We discussed my book, All She Ever Wanted, and Be the Star You Are! for Teens. If you’d like to listen to our discussion, it’s archived at http://wtr.radiopilot.net/worldtalkradio/vshow.aspx?sid=764. It is also available on Itunes at http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=310762728
Thank you, Cynthia, for such an easy, fun and delightful interview!
Yesterday evening I read poetry at Third Thursday Poets at the Tea Party Bookshop in Salem, Oregon. The theme was revolution. The poems I chose talked about revolution as a call to make changes in the world as well as internal change. The other two readers were Geronimo Tagatac and Ellen Waterston. Geronimo shared an unpublished short story that had me “squeezing” instead of “pulling” a phantom trigger as I listened to his descirption of shooting. Ellen’s poetry immersed us all in the deserts she loves so much. I enjoyed the event immensely! Thank you, Maureen, for all the hard work you do to keep Third Thursday Poets delightful!
My admiration goes out to all those in the world who are willing to work to make a difference whether it be with words or actions or with both.
My friend, Kelly, would tell you that I tend to be rather guarded. And, she has a point. I’ve been writing a single blog entry for months now because I’m stressed that it will be misunderstood. I admire that Kelly would just be right out there with her emotions and thoughts for anyone to see without worrying about it being misunderstood. She’s always been that way.
I don’t shy away from controversy or even from speaking my mind, but I do worry excessively about my written words being used out of context or misconstrued in some way. I realize this and often have to find a way to reign in that feeling and just let the work speak for itself.
Back to my friend Kelly. She blogs about her life including her struggles since her husband died. She talks about raising her children alone. She talks about the little things and the not so little things always with a sense of humor and an emotional touch. She and I may not always agree on the issues. She’s conservative (maybe not as much as she thinks but we’ll save that argument for another time) and I’m quite liberal. We have interesting discussions that always end with an honest expression of how much we care for and support one another even when we disagree.
So back to my struggle. I know I’ll finish the entry and post it, hopefully sooner rather than later. I think I’m going to take inspiration from Kelly and just speak from my heart…
By the way, if you’d like to check out Kelly’s blog, click here.