Behind the Scenes
All White People, Indeed
Now that I’ve had a couple weeks to catch up on life post-AWP, I’ve had time to reflect on my experience attending the conference a second time. I had a fantastic time at AWP ’10. It’s a much better experience when you actually know people; I really enjoyed working at the bookfair with my co-editor and meeting so many contributors; and there was, of course, the EPIC dance party on Saturday night that was everything I had been told it would be and so much more. You have not lived until you see a bunch of hot, sweaty writers dancing awkwardly (myself included), and I do mean awkwardly, to Tone Loc.
At several points during AWP, friends and acquaintances would riff on the theme of AWP standing for All White People and we would laugh and move on to the next topic of conversation but there was a certain truth to the comments that was… uncomfortable.
I’m quite accustomed to being the only person of color or one of a few at a given conference and I am also accustomed to accepting that the people who should, in theory, know better are just as ignorant as your average Tea Party member. At a conference nearly two years ago, a black male colleague from another university and I were standing in front of the hotel, wearing suits and our conference badges. Another conference attendee pulled up in his car, got out and threw my friend his car keys, told him, “Park it.” My friend dropped the keys on the ground and we walked away but we were pretty shocked and awed. Later, we were at a cocktail reception and I was, again, dressed in a suit, wearing a conference badge, when another attendee asked me if I was with the catering staff. Later at that same cocktail party, a renowned scholar offered me a job in his department. I told him he knew nothing about my research, and therefore was curious about what kind of position was he offering. He said, “We desperately need someone who looks like you in our program.” Awesome, right? These are not isolated incidents. They happen all the time. In my experience, it is easier for white people in academia to believe black people at conferences are hotel staff than it is to believe they are in the club. As such, my baseline expectation for any conference is that someone will ask me to clear their table.
Last year, at my first AWP, I didn’t know what to expect. AWP was an academic conference but I also knew it was a conference for writers and writers are awesome so I naively assumed that awesome writerness would counteract the negative effects of academia. I also assumed that because the conference was in Chicago and Chicago has a really diverse writing community, AWP would be well-attended by people of color. I was wrong and it was disappointing to see few other editors of color and only small groups of attendees of color but no critical mass. Even more distressing was that I would see two, three or four black people (or writers of other ethnicities) together but never interacting with any of the white writers. It was exactly like high school, with the Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together phenomenon. When I tried to approach these little groups, it was pretty awkward. I don’t know the secret handshake.
Given that it’s not good to make assumptions based on only one experience, I decided to wait before I formed any judgments but throughout the year, I started looking closely at pictures from readings, magazine launch parties and other literary events across the country when they were posted online and I don’t recall ever seeing a person of color either at the microphone or in the audience. It got me to thinking, do white writers, editors, and publishers have any friends or acquaintances who aren’t white?
At AWP ’10, I saw fewer people of color than I did at AWP ’09 and several of them I recognized as Famous or Important Writers of Color. The visibility of people of color of all races and ethnicities was shockingly low. The segregation principle was also still in effect like a prom in Mississippi. At the bookfair, I saw few editors of color manning booths—no more than five (and I’m being generous both in my estimate and my definition of “person of color”) in a room with hundreds of magazines. At readings, there were no black people. At parties (save for the amazing dance party), no black people except for one great guy I met with whom I had a great time chatting. At one point I joked we were “holding it down for brown.” I think he’s the second black writer I’ve ever met in person. This is, of course, partly because I always live in the middle of nowhere, but still…
This year, the National Black Writer’s Conference celebrated it’s 10th anniversary. I wonder why such a conference came about. I don’t think it is a coincidence that such a conference exists while AWP remains All White People. Beyond that conference there are many other smaller conferences for writers of color held throughout the year and across the country. There’s an entire organization, Cave Canem, dedicated to black poetry. There’s an organization, Desi Lit, for South Asian writers with several local chapters. There’s a blog to introduce white readers to black writers. I, of course, mention a only few little things I know about the diverse writing community that extends beyond this little world. I absolutely implicate myself in my concerns as much as I do anyone else.
My discussion of this issue is not a matter of casting blame or trying to inspire guilt but I do think it would be interesting to talk about what I perceive as a really segregated writing community. Is this just my perception or do other writers notice this too? Does this trouble you? Sometimes, it keeps me up at night.
Tags: AWP, Cave Canem
dance party. unacceptable.
ZZZZIPP IS THINKING ABOUT THIS AND YES HE HAS NOTICED IT. EVEN IN AUDIENCES, THAT’S WEIRD.
THAT STUFF IN THE FIRST THREE PARAGRAPHS IS LIKE A CARNIVAL. THAT IS UNBELIEVABLE.
Roxane, Thanks for writing this. It needs to be talked about, to exhaustion, and still, what will be done? What is increasingly problematic to me, however, is the level of anger that comes with posts like these (though mostly, the real anger comes with posts about gender), or even worse, if it’s just ignored. Is Cave Canem an answer though? I get the necessity of yes, ABSOLUTELY, but there are times when it reminds too much of “separate but equal.” Similarly, is WILLA? (I was on the advisory board for WILLA, before the part I was “advising” was dissolved, so I’m completely FOR the organization!) But let’s face it, writing is a privileged occupation. Academic conferences, or conferences in general, are privileged. Who can afford to go? I can’t. Not without university support, which is part of the reason you didn’t see my Othered face there. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’m making any point or sense. I guess, I agree. I wish I saw a wider variety at things like AWP, but what can be done about it? I’m at a complete loss.
# http://twitter.com/whitegrlproblem
I don’t know how to turn these observations into a diagnosis of a particular “problem” that could effectively be “solved” but I want to throw out there that I noticed the same thing–specifically when I was looking over my pictures for my AWP photo album post.
Let me begin this by saying I have never been to AWP and therefore…but, it would seem that the “writing community” is a microcosm of the “real world,” where people segregate themselves for an almost unimaginable number or reasons: educational level, fashion, music tastes, drug interests, cultural backgrounds, preferred genital configuration of sex partners…
An interesting question for me, given your observation, would be why don’t more “non-whites” go to AWP?
“Who can afford to go? I can’t.” Doesn’t seem to be a good reason…plenty of “white people” have to work for their money as well…
maybe this is a class thing then…only middle class people with doctors for parents…
I’m interested in what others think.
Such an important topic.
I think the problem, of course, starts long before AWP. Long before writing.
Dammit.
This is something that bothers me a lot, but in part I think it has to do with the fact that university writing programs, which pony up a lot of the money for AWP delegations, do not appreciate anything but middle class white writing. A less visible problem but one that I feel very strongly: how many people who grew up genuinely poor were there? I have no idea, but I bet the number wasn’t high. In university culture, having grown up poor is a real problem.
Is WILLA only about putting together a conference for women writers or is it about voices that have been not as represented at AWP? (wasn’t that the impetus for WILLA? the idea that some women-centered or gender-inflected panels were rejected?)
NEXT TIME YOU GO TO AWP YOU SHOULD FIND ALL OF THE PEOPLE WHO ARE THERE WHO DON’T HAVE MONEY TO GO
RICHARD OHMANN WROTE ABOUT THIS. IT IS A GOOD READ.
Lily, I struggle with a lot of what you have raised here. I do think that there’s a lot of “separate but equal,” going on and I think that fractures participation to an extent. That said, I don’t think like these separate organizations are the sole source of the problem.
Economics are also an issue. I didn’t have university support, I must say. As a graduate student, I paid for my travel out of pocket but I also saved all year to be able to make the trip and I was lucky enough to be in a position where I could save so… I don’t have a point except to say you say good things here.
do you believe that literary writing is segregated or that it is mostly white? Speaking as a white person (meaning, I’m not best equipped to answer this), my assumption has always been that the literary writing world is simply mostly white. As noted, artists often have a fair amount of privilege and schooling and it seems in part that even amongst artists literature in particular, for myriad reasons I’m sure, seems more appealing to white Americans than other art fields. I could be wrong on those counts, but that would have been my assumptions.
This is not, of course, to say that there isn’t prejudice at play int he literary world. But the big minority writers seem to be published in the same places and attend the same events and so on as big white writers. It doesn’t feel segregated to me (say, in the way that genre fiction is segregated from literary fiction).
but yes, it does trouble me.
That’s the thing…the literary writing world isn’t mostly white but most people make that assumption because the segregation is that pronounced. Particularly in big cities like New York, Atlanta, Chicago, The Bay Area, and L.A., there are thriving literary communities for people from diverse backgrounds.
Yes, absolutely, Kate. It started due to many panels that weren’t accepted for AWP, which “happened” to fall disproportionately along gendered lines.
I definitely don’t mean that these separate organizations are a source of problem, but I do think they can reinforce the problem. Economics are a huge issue, both for writing and conferences. I think all these issues are very much related, sex and gender, race, economics, sexuality. So we can all agree there are issues. Now what?
Hmm, well America is still mostly white (just statistically) so it seems to me that the ratio must be at least that. I like in New York of course, so know plenty of non-white writers (and work with them and publish them, etc.), but I would still bet if you surveyed, say, 50 MFA programs you’d find a pretty high percentage of white students. Perhaps 80%? Or do you disagree?
Good suggestion.
Where did he write about it?
Live in New York, rather.
i think white people have more positive reinforcement from within their racial communities to pursue writing. it is a more high-cultural-status pursuit for white people than it is for black people, generally speaking. am i being inaccurate? i don’t mean to offend, so please correct me/disregard me if i seem to be inaccurate. i mean this as an observation or a partial explanation, and definitely not as a “justification.” i would love to see more talented black authors (and more talented black filmmakers) on the scene.
http://www.jstor.org/pss/1343412
ZZZIPP DOESN’T KNOW WHERE ELSE IT IS
I beg to differ! Blasphemer!
and i would want that (more talented black authors/filmmakers on the scene, or accepted on the scene, or visible, you know what i mean) not for its own sake, not for equality necessarily, but rather just for the sake of interest, variety, what myself and others might possibly experience/learn/feel as a result.
It’s the now what that I particularly want to start to think through. How do we work toward a less segregated writing community? How do we create more access and make attending conferences more affordable? How do we reach out to diverse writing communities and encourage them to submit to magazines?
SEEMS WEIRD TO DISREGARD IT AS A “WANTING IT” THING. “IF I DON’T SEE THEM THERE, MAYBE THEY DON’T WANT IT?” THAT SORT OF RATIONALIZATION CAN GET YOU IN A LOT OF TROUBLE.
That works.
I understand the statistical angle, Lincoln, I do but the level of segregation in the writing community is still hugely disproportionate. It is more than that there are simply more white writers. I can pull photos from the last five literary events and find no people of color. That is not an accurate reflection. Furthermore, isn’t the US like 35% nonwhite at this point? That’s a significant minority that is not even remotely reflected in the writing community.
You’d find a very high percentage of white students in MFA programs. The racial demographics of higher education are just as skewed as in the writing community.
That’s what I was saying above, though — MFA programs and lit mags are both poor reflections of who’s writing, because both focus on aesthetics that are in some sense middle class white aesthetics.
can’t stop smirking uncontrollably at the thought of a large gaggle of pretentious uppity white liberal politically correct opportunist writers with badges and academic leanings tryin’ to have a dance party @ awp. ne1 else feelin’ me? are my facial muscles damaged? so confused…
yes. roxane, you know i was thinking about this (although i have yet to go to awp) and how economics do come into play as things are wayy cheaper if the goer is coming from a university setting. i know the rate alone is knocked down and most universities will foot a huge chunk of the bill. but, as you said, there are numerous writing conferences and organizations that writers of color are attending while paying for out of their own pockets (airfare, hotel, etc.) so i’m starting to think economics is less of the issue.
I had heard rumblings about the dance party from years past but you truly have to see it to believe it. So uncomfortable and amazing.
I also think that it’s becoming quite uncommon for universities to subsidize conference attendance as lavishly as they once did. The economic downturn has made university subsidized travel a bit of a rarity.
i don’t think that’s what i’m saying zzzzzipp. i’m not disregarding it. i just don’t think it’s merely an issue of access. i think it’s also an issue of a lack of substantial interest (and to reiterate, i mean broad interest, like a % interest in writing at all comparable with white interest, adjusted for the difference in size of population of course). i don’t have the facts on this, but i think i’m “right,” otherwise i wouldn’t say it. and there’s no malice in my saying it. i would be the first to jump down someone’s throat for subtle racism or dismissal in many arenas, but i’m not convinced (although i am more than happy to be educated if i don’t know what i’m talking about), i’m not convinced that writing is all that popular of a pursuit for black people, percentage-wise, and furthermore, i don’t think it’s a knock on, or somehow offensive to black people if that is the case. writing and reading “literary fiction” is an extremely marginalized activity in 2010; it’s somewhat natural if only a niche group, on the basis of cultural reinforcements, received wisdom, [other difficult-to-define factors] is the core constituency of a marginalized field.
i could be way off. keep in mind, i get pissed when, for example, white people say that a black quarterback “just runs well, he can’t THROW”…. not casting aspersions, not trying to be dismissive or racist. just going on my received perceptions, and they could be wrong.
Denver was the whitest place I’ve ever been in my life. Every club was full of dude-bros in polos and backwards caps.
I’m sort of with Mike and Adam on why AWP is All White People: Not a lot of poor people get educations and these institutions of education are still mostly run by white men. How many black or brown university presidents are there? I guarantee it’s not 12% African American or 15% Hispanic and it’s damn sure not 50% female.
Who is preventing anyone from submitting to publications with open submissions and so forth…? Is it a lack of education about the benefits of writing and submitting fiction or poetry or…?
Some of us white folk are not going to conferences (with dance parties included – gotta do that thang on our own time) but working hard in our communities, helping bring literacy and communication/writing skills to children and young people from many demographic groups.
I encourage all educated people who are interested in advancing literacy (and, as can follow, literary-ness) to spend some time in communities of need, teaching, volunteering, tutoring, reading to kids at your local libraries etc etc etc.
my comment above was directed at ZIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPY. I don’t know how it got there.
And a lot of non-white folk are working hard towards these ends, too.
yeah, i’ve gotta say, i think this is an incredibly important part of any education–getting involved in your community, spreading knowledge. everything literary starts with learning to love reading.
white supremacism and neoliberal capitalism yall
fuck white people
fuck rich people
fuck rich white people
kill em all
Roxane:
Last census had 75% of the population being white (more if you want to include white Hispanics). And that’s before adjusting the stats for the economic background writers mostly come from, as you’ve mentioned. Then further, there is the question of what percentage are writing.
I say this not at all to dismiss questions of race in the writing world, but because I think think the solutions are different depending on the problem. Is it a matter that not enough minorities are attempting to be literary writers (perhaps because the writing world isn’t inviting enough to them)? or is it a matter that they are writing in equal percentages but are not being welcomed by magazines and publishers?
“You’d find a very high percentage of white students in MFA programs. The racial demographics of higher education are just as skewed as in the writing community.”
Right, exactly. But isn’t that then a question of who is writing (or who is writing in this “world’?) rather than a segregation inside of the world?
The figures have been updated since the last census.
Sorry, those are the figures from 2008, which I think are as recent as we have.
Whoops! I misread this chart, the 75% number IS including white hispanics.
And I would say that they are writing in near or equal percentages. They may not all be writing literary fiction but there are far more writers of color in this country (and even around the world) than is reflected by MFA programs, magazines, conferences, and other literary events. I don’t understand why this is so hard to believe. I don’t understand why you keep trying to rationalize that tis is just the way it is, unless I’m reading you incorrectly.
I think the issues are complex and that certainly, some of the writing from Other communities simply isn’t being welcomed by magazines and publishers. There are issues of access and statistical realities but I also feel the segregation is very real.
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/ : writing for the glory of being published.
I think you are indeed reading me incorrectly. I’m absolutely not saying “this is the way it is,” I don’t really see how you could get that from my comments.
Lincoln — it looks that way to me too. Maybe you could clarify what you want to communicate here.
“I say this not at all to dismiss questions of race in the writing world, but because I think think the solutions are different depending on the problem. Is it a matter that not enough minorities are attempting to be literary writers (perhaps because the writing world isn’t inviting enough to them)? or is it a matter that they are writing in equal percentages but are not being welcomed by magazines and publishers?”
Right, but you’re arguing that it’s fundamentally a thing about numbers, if I understand you, and what I’m saying is that this seems flat-out wrong. Tons and tons and tons of people of color are writing. It’s not a question of “who’s writing” but a question of why the clearly-existing writing isn’t accepted or subsidized by MFA programs, magazines, and etc.
Right. You say that Lincoln but you continue to belabor the statistics. It is not that I expect the writing community to be comprised of 25% POC but I do expect to not be the ONLY one everywhere I go. To know these vibrant POC communities exist yet see them so segregated from this community is hugely troubling for me.
Well I think there are a few separate questions going on here. I’m not saying its fundamentally a numbers thing as in there are a lot of white people living, I’m saying i think white people, for a variety of reasons, many with racist origins (esp. regarding economic background) are more likely to see writing as a viable career path. Basically what Stephen said in his first post below.
For example, if we agree that MFA programs are overwhelmingly white, the question here is are applications overwhelmingly white or are MFA programs disproportionately accepting white people? Ditto with magazines.
Yeah. AWP is in no way a microcosm of the American population.
I’m not trying to belabor statistics, in fact I thought you were bringing them up? As said, I think this is a problem, but I’m not sure the problem is as simple as a segregation amongst literary writers. I think the main cause is deeper.
But again, this is just my impression.
What are you saying?
Honestly I don’t think it in any way represents segregation within the overall “writing scene.” I simply think that the type of people interested in attending a thing like AWP are mostly white people. I don’t have a specific reason for that, more like just a vibe. I’ve never been, but the whole thing reeks of boring hegemonic white-ness, and I would probably never go unless required by my job. (Not trying to imply I’m non-white, though: one half of my family’s mexican, but the other 50% of my blood plus my bookishly pale skin means I pass easily for white.)
Part of this is that I perceive it (perhaps incorrectly) as largely an extension of academic writing programs, which—considering the inanity of most English dept classes these days—doesn’t exactly enthrall me.
And my experience in English dept classes has largely been that of boring whites sitting in a tiny room congratulating each other on their boring whiteness.
then i sure hope they won’t be holding AWP in Arizona next year. jeez
Lincoln, I don’t think it’s exactly about “segregation” either. Let’s table that for a second.
I don’t actually think it’s about white people thinking writing is a viable career path, either. Who thinks of writing that way anymore? (Although I guess some of the middle class white people in MFAs do seem to think they automatically get to teach when they graduate, and that this is as it should be. This seems crazy to me, an expression of privilege I don’t feel as a person raised poor, and a result of a poor grasp of economics, but then the fact that I feel that way is part of what might keep me from getting a teaching job, isn’t it?)
I wouldn’t even be surprised if MFA programs accept and fund a disproportionate share of people of color relative to the number who identify themselves as such in applicant pools. The trouble is that literary culture is just extremely alienating to people who aren’t white and middle class. The forms and structures you have to write in to get encouragement from a lot of instructors and publishing and funding and so on are all about the white, middle class experience. The domestic realist literary story might as well be called the “super-incredibly-white” story. This is also probably why you see fewer poor people and experimental writers in MFAs. They (we) can tell they’re (we’re) not wanted.
In other words, it’s not that people of color aren’t writing and it’s not that they are being segregated out, it’s that their stories aren’t welcome and they know it, so they don’t bother, and even when they do they certainly aren’t as involved in the social aspects of “the scene,” which are even whiter.
Going to workshop now.
“The trouble is that literary culture is just extremely alienating to people who aren’t white and middle class. ”
Right, this is what I’m saying!
While you make an important general point about the lack of representative racial diversity at AWP, you’re mistaken that “no more than five” editors of color manned bookfair booths—unless Hispanics and Asians don’t qualify under your generous estimate and definition of “person of color.” Six or seven in my row alone, including me. I’m not trying to undermine what you’re saying—the American literary culture is far too racially homogenous, especially MFA programs—but you’re trying to make a numbers and percentages argument based on your personal observations, and it isn’t completely accurate.
What I was getting at can more or less be understood by watching the following music video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vCngKbfDtY&feature=fvw
the percentages are perhaps not an accurate reflection of the reality but i really don’t know anything about that stuff and i, of course, have no idea why that is, except to say that it is a result of a lot of complicated processes partially involving institutionalized racism, education, and various cultural values that are far too complicated and sensitive to discuss here. i mean, let’s face it, it wasn’t really all that long ago that people were drinking out of different water fountains.
all i can say, roxane, is that i became interested in your writing because i read your pindeldyboz story and i thought it was hilarious/insightful/clever/etc and as i’m sure you remember i solicited you based upon that. and i only realized you were a person of color when you sent me ‘strategies for navigating life as the only black graduate student in your program’ and i was like oh cool, this is funny and political and i’m sure, based upon what i can see of the world, that it is true because of people and their weird natures and so on and i want to publish it. so, i’m just saying that, you know, i don’t think it’s quite a glass ceiling type of situation. not that you’re saying that, but hey, that’s something right? maybe? i guess? i’m sure people could do more to solicit people of color and that blog ‘white readers meet black authors’ is interesting, but again things can become a bit artificial or forced, and like, the intention is not in the place of the prose and stuff, but in the act of being progressive. and that would seem like a misplaced intention, don’t you think?
i think mimi said something interesting above, in that people should definitely volunteer in their communities. at times it seems pointless and ineffectual, but it totally isn’t. i used to volunteer with 826 valencia and i plan to do so again when i move back to the city. they do some great things. i substitute teach in schools all around the bay area, most of which are like 95% people of color. kids are pretty much creative as hell across the board. the problem seems to be, they lose interest in high school (but hey, so did i) and when people of color have the opportunity to go to college, i think a lot of the time there is a ton of pressure from the family and counselors and so on for them to get a specialized, high-paying job, which makes it very unlikely that they will decide to become a writer even if they are a voracious reader and it is something they would like to do. let’s face it, it’s quite a sacrifice to make.
They must have been hiding from me.
I’m not saying my observations are as accurate as statistics but they do speak well I think to what I see as a real problem.
I said nothing at all about a glass ceiling. This is about visibility and what I perceive as a fairly segregated community.
I think that’s pretty perceptive, Mike. Shit writing usually implies an unconsidered (ie unironic, unimaginative) word-vomit of the nostalgic glories of the writer’s background/privilege/etc., and there is a whole damned lot of shit writing, and a lot of people who don’t care to even attempt to discern between shit and non-shit, which means that much of the student writing that is praised will end up being unimaginative regurgitations of privileged experience.
IMO this is just another example of how re-applying ourselves to stringent aesthetic standards would in the end sort out some of the race/gender/class-based problems that many have demolished their own aesthetic standards in favor of. . . . but I know I’m shouting down a well with that. . .
Well. . . I’ll just say this. With enough time and re-readings, an attentive well-read reader can begin to evaluate a work in ways that transcend personal preference. In order to circumvent issues of personal bias we have largely discarded or diluted the slow careful process of judging a work’s imaginative force and effectiveness, but all this does is privilege sloppy work over well-crafted work w/o even solving the original problem. Instead of dismissing the act of aesthetic judgement as irrevocably person and subjective, if we could instead initiate a larger dialogue about ways to pay keen generous attention to a work—about how a reader first acquaints himself with the idiosyncratic terms-of-play of a piece and then how she later judges how effectively the piece troped off those terms—then we would sooner approach real fairness.
I’m totally serious. Paying evaluative attention to a work of writing is an art in itself, and I don’t understand why we choose to dismiss it rather than talk about it and learn other better more perceptive ways of loving text.
like i said, ‘not that you’re saying that’ – anyway, just trying to relate my personal experience/feelings, for what it’s worth
seems like you’re not really all that interested in having a conversation…
you kind of willfully ignored every rational thing Lincoln had to say…
so, where do you go from here…?
comment above was for roxane not reynard…
I’m glad you wrote this, Roxane. I noticed it, too. I was even going to ask you about it there, but I didn’t want to be insensitive. I noticed the same thing last night in a Charlie Rose interview with Ian McEwan. They were talking about all these “great books” and every single one of them was by an old white male. The only panel I attended at AWP was about tough women writing memoirs. One of the speakers was African-American and she talked about being ghettoized by the publishing industry. Sure, times are better now than in 1640, 1860, 1892, 1930’s, 1956 and so on… but it seems the road to colorblindness goes on forever.
I’m not sure what to do about race or gender, but for economics I know Netroots Nation (AWP for progressive bloggers) offers lots of monetary help for folks who need it, plus a lot of attending organizations offer their own sponsorships based on need. Does AWP do anything like that?
Also, for the record, I didn’t go because I can’t afford it. Sure a lot of universities subsidize, but what about writers not affiliated with academia? We want in, too! :)
Oh, sorry, Roxane–you said universities did not subsidize you. Whoops. I read wrong. But still, I think affordability would go a long way toward helping bring more people of all colors and classes in.
I’m sort of amazed that no one else here experienced the protest early on Friday morning at the AWP book fair. That said, it was early (maybe like 8:45). One of the Cave Canem fellows began shouting something that was a little bit hard to make out from my spot across the huge room. So, I went to go check it out because I thought I heard her shout the name of a certain press (and this alarmed me–more on this later). Anyway, I went over there and by the time I got there she was standing on a chair reading some of her poems aloud, occasionally breaking into song, and doing so with a fairly strong voice.
I had clearly heard some sort of sic semper tyrannis kind of thing before her reading started–I swear that I did–and so i nudged one of the bystanders who had stopped to take in this impromptu reading, and when I asked her what was up, she said, defensively (as if I had had a problem with this black woman bursting into song and poetry, and it was her job to defend her), “What? She’s just giving a reading.” Clearly, this bystander sensed that I was troubled by this and wanted badly to defend someone. It was gross. She misunderstood the nature of my question. But back to the story…
Anyway, what happened next was intense for me. I watched while the reader finished up and stepped down and, after a few minutes, she walked over to another table, the table of a certain publisher (who had yet to set up shop for the day–only the press banner lay stretched across the table), where she proceeded to throw down three books (slap them down, rather) on the empty table, along with a homemade flyer on which was printed three pictures of her face (one with hands over eyes, one with hands over ears, one with hands over mouth). There was some text on it too. So, I walked over to her.
She said, “do you believe this shit?” pointing at the three books she had slapped on the table. I’m from the state of _________ and these are the books the __________ review poetry series picked as their book winners. Not one of them is black. Not one is from the state of ___________. It’s bullshit, and it’s racist that there is no representation of the demographic of that state.”
I pointed to one of the books she had dropped there. “This one’s mine, actually. That’s me.”
And so we talked about it for about thirty minutes. Whatever IT is. It was one of the most impossible conversations I’ve ever had. It was also one of the most important. It was also one of the most useless. We talked about the room full of people, and about MFA programs (she had an MFA but no book and therefore couldn’t get THE job that I, too, admittedly care about). Anyway, it was very after-school special–we exchanged info, talked honestly about the process of book contests, etc. I’m not sure if she felt that much better about it. And I was pretty sure it was not my job or purpose to help make her feel better. But I did want her to be heard. And I wanted to be heard, too.
Later, I had drinks with the author of one of the other book winners from that contest (one of the other books thrown down on the table). This person was worried because her teaching job of several years was coming to end. Her particular job-line had been endowed, etc. in such a way that it could only be held by an African American candidate. And therefore, after several years of allowing her to hold the spot, she had to vacate and lose the gig.
I don’t claim to be making any kind of point here, that’s for sure. Just that it was an important moment, and one of those times when I could see both ends of the same situation, even if I couldn’t understand them.
dance party. unacceptable.
Um I didn’t ignore Lincoln or do you mean reynard? I think Lincoln, if you’re referring to Lincoln, though why did you respond to reynard (?) made some interesting points. I just happen to disagree. That doesn’t mean I don’t respect his position.
ZZZZIPP IS THINKING ABOUT THIS AND YES HE HAS NOTICED IT. EVEN IN AUDIENCES, THAT’S WEIRD.
THAT STUFF IN THE FIRST THREE PARAGRAPHS IS LIKE A CARNIVAL. THAT IS UNBELIEVABLE.
Roxane, Thanks for writing this. It needs to be talked about, to exhaustion, and still, what will be done? What is increasingly problematic to me, however, is the level of anger that comes with posts like these (though mostly, the real anger comes with posts about gender), or even worse, if it’s just ignored. Is Cave Canem an answer though? I get the necessity of yes, ABSOLUTELY, but there are times when it reminds too much of “separate but equal.” Similarly, is WILLA? (I was on the advisory board for WILLA, before the part I was “advising” was dissolved, so I’m completely FOR the organization!) But let’s face it, writing is a privileged occupation. Academic conferences, or conferences in general, are privileged. Who can afford to go? I can’t. Not without university support, which is part of the reason you didn’t see my Othered face there. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’m making any point or sense. I guess, I agree. I wish I saw a wider variety at things like AWP, but what can be done about it? I’m at a complete loss.
# http://twitter.com/whitegrlproblem
I don’t know how to turn these observations into a diagnosis of a particular “problem” that could effectively be “solved” but I want to throw out there that I noticed the same thing–specifically when I was looking over my pictures for my AWP photo album post.
Let me begin this by saying I have never been to AWP and therefore…but, it would seem that the “writing community” is a microcosm of the “real world,” where people segregate themselves for an almost unimaginable number or reasons: educational level, fashion, music tastes, drug interests, cultural backgrounds, preferred genital configuration of sex partners…
An interesting question for me, given your observation, would be why don’t more “non-whites” go to AWP?
“Who can afford to go? I can’t.” Doesn’t seem to be a good reason…plenty of “white people” have to work for their money as well…
maybe this is a class thing then…only middle class people with doctors for parents…
I’m interested in what others think.
ZZZZIPPP READ THAT 89.7% OF MAINSTREAM SPORTSWRITERS ARE WHITE, HE HATES WHEN HE READS STUFF LIKE YOU DESCRIBED. JUST LOOK AT THE WAY THEY TREAT(ED) IVERSON VS. JASON KIDD, TIGER WOODS VS. BIG BEN ROETHLIEZZZWHATEVER.
BUT THAT’S ALSO A GOOD ANALOGUE: DO YOU THINK THAT THE RATIO THERE IS AN ACTUAL INDICATOR OF WHO WANTS TO BE A SPORTSWRITER IN THE POPULATION AT LARGE? SPORTSWRITING IS DIFFERENT THAN “JUST” WRITING, BECAUSE OF THE INSTITUTIONAL ASPECT (LARGELY IT REQUIRES BEING “PICKED”) (SO SOME INSTITUTIONAL BIAS MAY COME IN) BUT IT MAY ALSO REFLECT THE PERCENTAGE OF EACH POPULATION WHO “THOUGHT” THEY COULD GET TO THAT LEVEL. MAYBE NOT SEEING AN AWFUL LOT OF BLACK PEOPLE IN THAT POSITION IS DISCOURAGING TO A BLACK KID WHO WOULD LIKE TO BE A SPORTS JOURNALIST? ZZZIPP WONDERS IF IT’S DIFFERENT FOR ATHLETES BECAUSE PERFORMANCE IN SPORT IS SOMETHING THAT CAN BE MEASURED AND IS HARDER TO DENY, AND MAYBE ONCE THERE IS THE VISIBILITY IT BECOMES A VIABLE OPTION (SOMETHING TO USE VALUABLE RESOURCES ON).
DIDN’T MEAN TO IMPLY YOU WERE RACIST STEPHEN THAT WAS ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS ZZZZIPP THOUGHT TOO (WONDERING ABOUT THE DESIRE). IT’S AN HONEST QUESTION PROBABLY BUT ZZZZIPP DOESN’T THINK IT IS TRUE. FOR LOTS OF REASONS, BUT THE MAIN ONE IS THAT IT ASSUMES YOU CAN MAKE THAT KIND OF GENERALIZATION ABOUT A RACE OF PEOPLE. A LOT OF WHITE PEOPLE SEE LITERATURE AS A MARGINAL ENTERPRISE TOO, BUT THEY AREN’T THE ONES WRITING. RACEZZ DON’T VOTE AS A BLOC.
Such an important topic.
I think the problem, of course, starts long before AWP. Long before writing.
Dammit.
This is something that bothers me a lot, but in part I think it has to do with the fact that university writing programs, which pony up a lot of the money for AWP delegations, do not appreciate anything but middle class white writing. A less visible problem but one that I feel very strongly: how many people who grew up genuinely poor were there? I have no idea, but I bet the number wasn’t high. In university culture, having grown up poor is a real problem.
ZZZZIPP IS CONFUSED ABOUT WHY HE PUT “THOUGHT” IN QUOTATION MARKS. HAVE TO GET OFF INTERNET.
Is WILLA only about putting together a conference for women writers or is it about voices that have been not as represented at AWP? (wasn’t that the impetus for WILLA? the idea that some women-centered or gender-inflected panels were rejected?)
NEXT TIME YOU GO TO AWP YOU SHOULD FIND ALL OF THE PEOPLE WHO ARE THERE WHO DON’T HAVE MONEY TO GO
thx 4 yr thoughts, zzzipp, makes sense to me… wish i wouldn’t’ve generalized at all…. just want every1 to feel welcome in whatever community they feel like belonging to… love all peoples
RICHARD OHMANN WROTE ABOUT THIS. IT IS A GOOD READ.
Lily, I struggle with a lot of what you have raised here. I do think that there’s a lot of “separate but equal,” going on and I think that fractures participation to an extent. That said, I don’t think like these separate organizations are the sole source of the problem.
Economics are also an issue. I didn’t have university support, I must say. As a graduate student, I paid for my travel out of pocket but I also saved all year to be able to make the trip and I was lucky enough to be in a position where I could save so… I don’t have a point except to say you say good things here.
do you believe that literary writing is segregated or that it is mostly white? Speaking as a white person (meaning, I’m not best equipped to answer this), my assumption has always been that the literary writing world is simply mostly white. As noted, artists often have a fair amount of privilege and schooling and it seems in part that even amongst artists literature in particular, for myriad reasons I’m sure, seems more appealing to white Americans than other art fields. I could be wrong on those counts, but that would have been my assumptions.
This is not, of course, to say that there isn’t prejudice at play int he literary world. But the big minority writers seem to be published in the same places and attend the same events and so on as big white writers. It doesn’t feel segregated to me (say, in the way that genre fiction is segregated from literary fiction).
but yes, it does trouble me.
That’s the thing…the literary writing world isn’t mostly white but most people make that assumption because the segregation is that pronounced. Particularly in big cities like New York, Atlanta, Chicago, The Bay Area, and L.A., there are thriving literary communities for people from diverse backgrounds.
Yes, absolutely, Kate. It started due to many panels that weren’t accepted for AWP, which “happened” to fall disproportionately along gendered lines.
I definitely don’t mean that these separate organizations are a source of problem, but I do think they can reinforce the problem. Economics are a huge issue, both for writing and conferences. I think all these issues are very much related, sex and gender, race, economics, sexuality. So we can all agree there are issues. Now what?
Hmm, well America is still mostly white (just statistically) so it seems to me that the ratio must be at least that. I like in New York of course, so know plenty of non-white writers (and work with them and publish them, etc.), but I would still bet if you surveyed, say, 50 MFA programs you’d find a pretty high percentage of white students. Perhaps 80%? Or do you disagree?
Good suggestion.
Where did he write about it?
Live in New York, rather.
i think white people have more positive reinforcement from within their racial communities to pursue writing. it is a more high-cultural-status pursuit for white people than it is for black people, generally speaking. am i being inaccurate? i don’t mean to offend, so please correct me/disregard me if i seem to be inaccurate. i mean this as an observation or a partial explanation, and definitely not as a “justification.” i would love to see more talented black authors (and more talented black filmmakers) on the scene.
http://www.jstor.org/pss/1343412
ZZZIPP DOESN’T KNOW WHERE ELSE IT IS
I beg to differ! Blasphemer!
and i would want that (more talented black authors/filmmakers on the scene, or accepted on the scene, or visible, you know what i mean) not for its own sake, not for equality necessarily, but rather just for the sake of interest, variety, what myself and others might possibly experience/learn/feel as a result.
It’s the now what that I particularly want to start to think through. How do we work toward a less segregated writing community? How do we create more access and make attending conferences more affordable? How do we reach out to diverse writing communities and encourage them to submit to magazines?
SEEMS WEIRD TO DISREGARD IT AS A “WANTING IT” THING. “IF I DON’T SEE THEM THERE, MAYBE THEY DON’T WANT IT?” THAT SORT OF RATIONALIZATION CAN GET YOU IN A LOT OF TROUBLE.
That works.
I understand the statistical angle, Lincoln, I do but the level of segregation in the writing community is still hugely disproportionate. It is more than that there are simply more white writers. I can pull photos from the last five literary events and find no people of color. That is not an accurate reflection. Furthermore, isn’t the US like 35% nonwhite at this point? That’s a significant minority that is not even remotely reflected in the writing community.
You’d find a very high percentage of white students in MFA programs. The racial demographics of higher education are just as skewed as in the writing community.
That’s what I was saying above, though — MFA programs and lit mags are both poor reflections of who’s writing, because both focus on aesthetics that are in some sense middle class white aesthetics.
can’t stop smirking uncontrollably at the thought of a large gaggle of pretentious uppity white liberal politically correct opportunist writers with badges and academic leanings tryin’ to have a dance party @ awp. ne1 else feelin’ me? are my facial muscles damaged? so confused…
yes. roxane, you know i was thinking about this (although i have yet to go to awp) and how economics do come into play as things are wayy cheaper if the goer is coming from a university setting. i know the rate alone is knocked down and most universities will foot a huge chunk of the bill. but, as you said, there are numerous writing conferences and organizations that writers of color are attending while paying for out of their own pockets (airfare, hotel, etc.) so i’m starting to think economics is less of the issue.
I had heard rumblings about the dance party from years past but you truly have to see it to believe it. So uncomfortable and amazing.
I also think that it’s becoming quite uncommon for universities to subsidize conference attendance as lavishly as they once did. The economic downturn has made university subsidized travel a bit of a rarity.
i don’t think that’s what i’m saying zzzzzipp. i’m not disregarding it. i just don’t think it’s merely an issue of access. i think it’s also an issue of a lack of substantial interest (and to reiterate, i mean broad interest, like a % interest in writing at all comparable with white interest, adjusted for the difference in size of population of course). i don’t have the facts on this, but i think i’m “right,” otherwise i wouldn’t say it. and there’s no malice in my saying it. i would be the first to jump down someone’s throat for subtle racism or dismissal in many arenas, but i’m not convinced (although i am more than happy to be educated if i don’t know what i’m talking about), i’m not convinced that writing is all that popular of a pursuit for black people, percentage-wise, and furthermore, i don’t think it’s a knock on, or somehow offensive to black people if that is the case. writing and reading “literary fiction” is an extremely marginalized activity in 2010; it’s somewhat natural if only a niche group, on the basis of cultural reinforcements, received wisdom, [other difficult-to-define factors] is the core constituency of a marginalized field.
i could be way off. keep in mind, i get pissed when, for example, white people say that a black quarterback “just runs well, he can’t THROW”…. not casting aspersions, not trying to be dismissive or racist. just going on my received perceptions, and they could be wrong.
Denver was the whitest place I’ve ever been in my life. Every club was full of dude-bros in polos and backwards caps.
I’m sort of with Mike and Adam on why AWP is All White People: Not a lot of poor people get educations and these institutions of education are still mostly run by white men. How many black or brown university presidents are there? I guarantee it’s not 12% African American or 15% Hispanic and it’s damn sure not 50% female.
Who is preventing anyone from submitting to publications with open submissions and so forth…? Is it a lack of education about the benefits of writing and submitting fiction or poetry or…?
Some of us white folk are not going to conferences (with dance parties included – gotta do that thang on our own time) but working hard in our communities, helping bring literacy and communication/writing skills to children and young people from many demographic groups.
I encourage all educated people who are interested in advancing literacy (and, as can follow, literary-ness) to spend some time in communities of need, teaching, volunteering, tutoring, reading to kids at your local libraries etc etc etc.
my comment above was directed at ZIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPY. I don’t know how it got there.
And a lot of non-white folk are working hard towards these ends, too.
yeah, i’ve gotta say, i think this is an incredibly important part of any education–getting involved in your community, spreading knowledge. everything literary starts with learning to love reading.
white supremacism and neoliberal capitalism yall
fuck white people
fuck rich people
fuck rich white people
kill em all
Does anyone else object to the words “non-white” to talk about people of color? Referring to people by what they are vs what they aren’t is a better tactic. Although I think it further points to the inadvertent racism talked about in the post. It would be like calling gay people “non-straights.” Not cool.
Roxane:
Last census had 75% of the population being white (more if you want to include white Hispanics). And that’s before adjusting the stats for the economic background writers mostly come from, as you’ve mentioned. Then further, there is the question of what percentage are writing.
I say this not at all to dismiss questions of race in the writing world, but because I think think the solutions are different depending on the problem. Is it a matter that not enough minorities are attempting to be literary writers (perhaps because the writing world isn’t inviting enough to them)? or is it a matter that they are writing in equal percentages but are not being welcomed by magazines and publishers?
“You’d find a very high percentage of white students in MFA programs. The racial demographics of higher education are just as skewed as in the writing community.”
Right, exactly. But isn’t that then a question of who is writing (or who is writing in this “world’?) rather than a segregation inside of the world?
The figures have been updated since the last census.
Sorry, those are the figures from 2008, which I think are as recent as we have.
Whoops! I misread this chart, the 75% number IS including white hispanics.
And I would say that they are writing in near or equal percentages. They may not all be writing literary fiction but there are far more writers of color in this country (and even around the world) than is reflected by MFA programs, magazines, conferences, and other literary events. I don’t understand why this is so hard to believe. I don’t understand why you keep trying to rationalize that tis is just the way it is, unless I’m reading you incorrectly.
I think the issues are complex and that certainly, some of the writing from Other communities simply isn’t being welcomed by magazines and publishers. There are issues of access and statistical realities but I also feel the segregation is very real.
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/ : writing for the glory of being published.
Point taken. I was just trying to mix it up because I felt like I was saying people of color too much.
I think you are indeed reading me incorrectly. I’m absolutely not saying “this is the way it is,” I don’t really see how you could get that from my comments.
Abbreviating is also an option: POC. Because you’re right. Writing out “people of color” every other sentence gets long.
“They were talking about all these “great books” and every single one of them was by an old white male.”
Oh come on, this is cheap.
I think it’s fine, especially in the context of this conversation. And the analogy to gays is goofy.
I meant to respond as a reply but instead wrote another comment… Reply is below.
It really does and I did want to be sure I was talking not just about black people, for example, because all too often discussions about POC get reduced to black/white.
Lincoln — it looks that way to me too. Maybe you could clarify what you want to communicate here.
“I say this not at all to dismiss questions of race in the writing world, but because I think think the solutions are different depending on the problem. Is it a matter that not enough minorities are attempting to be literary writers (perhaps because the writing world isn’t inviting enough to them)? or is it a matter that they are writing in equal percentages but are not being welcomed by magazines and publishers?”
Right, but you’re arguing that it’s fundamentally a thing about numbers, if I understand you, and what I’m saying is that this seems flat-out wrong. Tons and tons and tons of people of color are writing. It’s not a question of “who’s writing” but a question of why the clearly-existing writing isn’t accepted or subsidized by MFA programs, magazines, and etc.
Right. You say that Lincoln but you continue to belabor the statistics. It is not that I expect the writing community to be comprised of 25% POC but I do expect to not be the ONLY one everywhere I go. To know these vibrant POC communities exist yet see them so segregated from this community is hugely troubling for me.
Well I think there are a few separate questions going on here. I’m not saying its fundamentally a numbers thing as in there are a lot of white people living, I’m saying i think white people, for a variety of reasons, many with racist origins (esp. regarding economic background) are more likely to see writing as a viable career path. Basically what Stephen said in his first post below.
For example, if we agree that MFA programs are overwhelmingly white, the question here is are applications overwhelmingly white or are MFA programs disproportionately accepting white people? Ditto with magazines.
Yeah. AWP is in no way a microcosm of the American population.
I’m not trying to belabor statistics, in fact I thought you were bringing them up? As said, I think this is a problem, but I’m not sure the problem is as simple as a segregation amongst literary writers. I think the main cause is deeper.
But again, this is just my impression.
What are you saying?
Honestly I don’t think it in any way represents segregation within the overall “writing scene.” I simply think that the type of people interested in attending a thing like AWP are mostly white people. I don’t have a specific reason for that, more like just a vibe. I’ve never been, but the whole thing reeks of boring hegemonic white-ness, and I would probably never go unless required by my job. (Not trying to imply I’m non-white, though: one half of my family’s mexican, but the other 50% of my blood plus my bookishly pale skin means I pass easily for white.)
Part of this is that I perceive it (perhaps incorrectly) as largely an extension of academic writing programs, which—considering the inanity of most English dept classes these days—doesn’t exactly enthrall me.
And my experience in English dept classes has largely been that of boring whites sitting in a tiny room congratulating each other on their boring whiteness.
then i sure hope they won’t be holding AWP in Arizona next year. jeez
Lincoln, I don’t think it’s exactly about “segregation” either. Let’s table that for a second.
I don’t actually think it’s about white people thinking writing is a viable career path, either. Who thinks of writing that way anymore? (Although I guess some of the middle class white people in MFAs do seem to think they automatically get to teach when they graduate, and that this is as it should be. This seems crazy to me, an expression of privilege I don’t feel as a person raised poor, and a result of a poor grasp of economics, but then the fact that I feel that way is part of what might keep me from getting a teaching job, isn’t it?)
I wouldn’t even be surprised if MFA programs accept and fund a disproportionate share of people of color relative to the number who identify themselves as such in applicant pools. The trouble is that literary culture is just extremely alienating to people who aren’t white and middle class. The forms and structures you have to write in to get encouragement from a lot of instructors and publishing and funding and so on are all about the white, middle class experience. The domestic realist literary story might as well be called the “super-incredibly-white” story. This is also probably why you see fewer poor people and experimental writers in MFAs. They (we) can tell they’re (we’re) not wanted.
In other words, it’s not that people of color aren’t writing and it’s not that they are being segregated out, it’s that their stories aren’t welcome and they know it, so they don’t bother, and even when they do they certainly aren’t as involved in the social aspects of “the scene,” which are even whiter.
Going to workshop now.
“The trouble is that literary culture is just extremely alienating to people who aren’t white and middle class. ”
Right, this is what I’m saying!
While you make an important general point about the lack of representative racial diversity at AWP, you’re mistaken that “no more than five” editors of color manned bookfair booths—unless Hispanics and Asians don’t qualify under your generous estimate and definition of “person of color.” Six or seven in my row alone, including me. I’m not trying to undermine what you’re saying—the American literary culture is far too racially homogenous, especially MFA programs—but you’re trying to make a numbers and percentages argument based on your personal observations, and it isn’t completely accurate.
What I was getting at can more or less be understood by watching the following music video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vCngKbfDtY&feature=fvw
Definitely buying that book. I’ve always had that question. I’ve always called it self-segregation, but maybe this book will enlighten me.
Anyways, I don’t really have much to say. My best friend these days is a black dude who talks like a white dude. There’s only two people in my section who are both white and have authority. Everyone else is a minority. The top dog is Samoan. The incoming top dog is black. The underbosses are black and Mexican. And somehow we honkeys get along and get all our work done. Occasionally someone makes a racist comment toward me or one of the other white guys. It’s so rare we laugh with everyone else; probably we’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be spat on for the color of our skin. So I’m saying that my current experience in life doesn’t lend much to it.
I do know that people with really thin skins–people who can’t stand to hear the words “fag,” “nigger,” “cunt,” “bitch,” “dyke,” or any other slur and apparently think there’s some sort of invisible rule set regarding free speech that the rest of us simply aren’t aware of–really fucking piss me off. The last racially charged argument I got into was with a black guy (we’re on good terms now) who insisted on calling me “boy.” Finally I confronted him and it was diffused with a simple question: how’d you like it if I called you that? Let’s try my fucking name.
Blah blah blah. In the real world where whites, blacks, and hispanics all co-mingle in neighborhoods like Brooklyn, Baltimore, we find unity in just one thing: we’re fucking poor, Roxane, and YOU haven’t lived until you know what that’s like. So quit your bitching. Jesus christ.
the percentages are perhaps not an accurate reflection of the reality but i really don’t know anything about that stuff and i, of course, have no idea why that is, except to say that it is a result of a lot of complicated processes partially involving institutionalized racism, education, and various cultural values that are far too complicated and sensitive to discuss here. i mean, let’s face it, it wasn’t really all that long ago that people were drinking out of different water fountains.
all i can say, roxane, is that i became interested in your writing because i read your pindeldyboz story and i thought it was hilarious/insightful/clever/etc and as i’m sure you remember i solicited you based upon that. and i only realized you were a person of color when you sent me ‘strategies for navigating life as the only black graduate student in your program’ and i was like oh cool, this is funny and political and i’m sure, based upon what i can see of the world, that it is true because of people and their weird natures and so on and i want to publish it. so, i’m just saying that, you know, i don’t think it’s quite a glass ceiling type of situation. not that you’re saying that, but hey, that’s something right? maybe? i guess? i’m sure people could do more to solicit people of color and that blog ‘white readers meet black authors’ is interesting, but again things can become a bit artificial or forced, and like, the intention is not in the place of the prose and stuff, but in the act of being progressive. and that would seem like a misplaced intention, don’t you think?
i think mimi said something interesting above, in that people should definitely volunteer in their communities. at times it seems pointless and ineffectual, but it totally isn’t. i used to volunteer with 826 valencia and i plan to do so again when i move back to the city. they do some great things. i substitute teach in schools all around the bay area, most of which are like 95% people of color. kids are pretty much creative as hell across the board. the problem seems to be, they lose interest in high school (but hey, so did i) and when people of color have the opportunity to go to college, i think a lot of the time there is a ton of pressure from the family and counselors and so on for them to get a specialized, high-paying job, which makes it very unlikely that they will decide to become a writer even if they are a voracious reader and it is something they would like to do. let’s face it, it’s quite a sacrifice to make.
They must have been hiding from me.
I’m not saying my observations are as accurate as statistics but they do speak well I think to what I see as a real problem.
I mean at least your job, life, and situation provided you the liberty and funds to actually go to AWP.
I said nothing at all about a glass ceiling. This is about visibility and what I perceive as a fairly segregated community.
Being from Haiti, I think I have a sense of what it means to be poor. Please stop assuming you’re the only person in the world who understands poverty, particularly given the difference between relative poverty and absolute poverty. This is not bitching. This is discussing an issue and I will do this, however you choose to refer to it, until my fingers fall off. Suck it.
I think that’s pretty perceptive, Mike. Shit writing usually implies an unconsidered (ie unironic, unimaginative) word-vomit of the nostalgic glories of the writer’s background/privilege/etc., and there is a whole damned lot of shit writing, and a lot of people who don’t care to even attempt to discern between shit and non-shit, which means that much of the student writing that is praised will end up being unimaginative regurgitations of privileged experience.
IMO this is just another example of how re-applying ourselves to stringent aesthetic standards would in the end sort out some of the race/gender/class-based problems that many have demolished their own aesthetic standards in favor of. . . . but I know I’m shouting down a well with that. . .
Well. . . I’ll just say this. With enough time and re-readings, an attentive well-read reader can begin to evaluate a work in ways that transcend personal preference. In order to circumvent issues of personal bias we have largely discarded or diluted the slow careful process of judging a work’s imaginative force and effectiveness, but all this does is privilege sloppy work over well-crafted work w/o even solving the original problem. Instead of dismissing the act of aesthetic judgement as irrevocably person and subjective, if we could instead initiate a larger dialogue about ways to pay keen generous attention to a work—about how a reader first acquaints himself with the idiosyncratic terms-of-play of a piece and then how she later judges how effectively the piece troped off those terms—then we would sooner approach real fairness.
I’m totally serious. Paying evaluative attention to a work of writing is an art in itself, and I don’t understand why we choose to dismiss it rather than talk about it and learn other better more perceptive ways of loving text.
like i said, ‘not that you’re saying that’ – anyway, just trying to relate my personal experience/feelings, for what it’s worth
seems like you’re not really all that interested in having a conversation…
you kind of willfully ignored every rational thing Lincoln had to say…
so, where do you go from here…?
comment above was for roxane not reynard…
I’m glad you wrote this, Roxane. I noticed it, too. I was even going to ask you about it there, but I didn’t want to be insensitive. I noticed the same thing last night in a Charlie Rose interview with Ian McEwan. They were talking about all these “great books” and every single one of them was by an old white male. The only panel I attended at AWP was about tough women writing memoirs. One of the speakers was African-American and she talked about being ghettoized by the publishing industry. Sure, times are better now than in 1640, 1860, 1892, 1930’s, 1956 and so on… but it seems the road to colorblindness goes on forever.
I’m not sure what to do about race or gender, but for economics I know Netroots Nation (AWP for progressive bloggers) offers lots of monetary help for folks who need it, plus a lot of attending organizations offer their own sponsorships based on need. Does AWP do anything like that?
Also, for the record, I didn’t go because I can’t afford it. Sure a lot of universities subsidize, but what about writers not affiliated with academia? We want in, too! :)
Is it? Do you really read Updike and Bellow and count them among the all-time greatest? I don’t.
Oh, sorry, Roxane–you said universities did not subsidize you. Whoops. I read wrong. But still, I think affordability would go a long way toward helping bring more people of all colors and classes in.
lol, okay. Yeah, that’s not cheap. I thought they were referring to some of the actual all-time greats.
Updike is a colossal joke. It makes me depressed that he was considered a “Major American writer.”
I’m sort of amazed that no one else here experienced the protest early on Friday morning at the AWP book fair. That said, it was early (maybe like 8:45). One of the Cave Canem fellows began shouting something that was a little bit hard to make out from my spot across the huge room. So, I went to go check it out because I thought I heard her shout the name of a certain press (and this alarmed me–more on this later). Anyway, I went over there and by the time I got there she was standing on a chair reading some of her poems aloud, occasionally breaking into song, and doing so with a fairly strong voice.
I had clearly heard some sort of sic semper tyrannis kind of thing before her reading started–I swear that I did–and so i nudged one of the bystanders who had stopped to take in this impromptu reading, and when I asked her what was up, she said, defensively (as if I had had a problem with this black woman bursting into song and poetry, and it was her job to defend her), “What? She’s just giving a reading.” Clearly, this bystander sensed that I was troubled by this and wanted badly to defend someone. It was gross. She misunderstood the nature of my question. But back to the story…
Anyway, what happened next was intense for me. I watched while the reader finished up and stepped down and, after a few minutes, she walked over to another table, the table of a certain publisher (who had yet to set up shop for the day–only the press banner lay stretched across the table), where she proceeded to throw down three books (slap them down, rather) on the empty table, along with a homemade flyer on which was printed three pictures of her face (one with hands over eyes, one with hands over ears, one with hands over mouth). There was some text on it too. So, I walked over to her.
She said, “do you believe this shit?” pointing at the three books she had slapped on the table. I’m from the state of _________ and these are the books the __________ review poetry series picked as their book winners. Not one of them is black. Not one is from the state of ___________. It’s bullshit, and it’s racist that there is no representation of the demographic of that state.”
I pointed to one of the books she had dropped there. “This one’s mine, actually. That’s me.”
And so we talked about it for about thirty minutes. Whatever IT is. It was one of the most impossible conversations I’ve ever had. It was also one of the most important. It was also one of the most useless. We talked about the room full of people, and about MFA programs (she had an MFA but no book and therefore couldn’t get THE job that I, too, admittedly care about). Anyway, it was very after-school special–we exchanged info, talked honestly about the process of book contests, etc. I’m not sure if she felt that much better about it. And I was pretty sure it was not my job or purpose to help make her feel better. But I did want her to be heard. And I wanted to be heard, too.
Later, I had drinks with the author of one of the other book winners from that contest (one of the other books thrown down on the table). This person was worried because her teaching job of several years was coming to end. Her particular job-line had been endowed, etc. in such a way that it could only be held by an African American candidate. And therefore, after several years of allowing her to hold the spot, she had to vacate and lose the gig.
I don’t claim to be making any kind of point here, that’s for sure. Just that it was an important moment, and one of those times when I could see both ends of the same situation, even if I couldn’t understand them.
Holy shit, I did hear that. I was on the complete other side of the room though. I could hear that lady and wanted to go check it out but it was over by the time I could figure out where it was coming from. I remember thinking “This is way too early in the morning for a revolution.” Thanks for the info. Glad to hear it was a moment of significance and not some stupid publicity stunt.
Um I didn’t ignore Lincoln or do you mean reynard? I think Lincoln, if you’re referring to Lincoln, though why did you respond to reynard (?) made some interesting points. I just happen to disagree. That doesn’t mean I don’t respect his position.
(applause)
I don’t know if this is too far afield, but I must say, without attempting to criticize anyone or cast about blame, that academic conferences in general always make me feel uncomfortable. I think that the AWP shares in the general elitist, hierarchical, patriarchal (when was the last AWP keynote speaker a woman) approach of all academic conferences. It seems like there are attitudes that are welcome and unwelcome (and, unfortunately, this probably applies to some literary journals as well).
Academic wisdom—welcome
Traditional wisdom—unwelcome
Skepticism—welcome
Spirituality—unwelcome
Opinions of “experts”—welcome
All opinions equal—unwelcome
Argumentativeness—welcome
Politeness, respect—unwelcome
I think this feeling is probably shared by others who come from “traditional” or “indigenous” backgrounds. And it is hardly an incentive to go to all the trouble of attending an event that you end up feeling hurt or angry about.
ZZZZIPPP READ THAT 89.7% OF MAINSTREAM SPORTSWRITERS ARE WHITE, HE HATES WHEN HE READS STUFF LIKE YOU DESCRIBED. JUST LOOK AT THE WAY THEY TREAT(ED) IVERSON VS. JASON KIDD, TIGER WOODS VS. BIG BEN ROETHLIEZZZWHATEVER.
BUT THAT’S ALSO A GOOD ANALOGUE: DO YOU THINK THAT THE RATIO THERE IS AN ACTUAL INDICATOR OF WHO WANTS TO BE A SPORTSWRITER IN THE POPULATION AT LARGE? SPORTSWRITING IS DIFFERENT THAN “JUST” WRITING, BECAUSE OF THE INSTITUTIONAL ASPECT (LARGELY IT REQUIRES BEING “PICKED”) (SO SOME INSTITUTIONAL BIAS MAY COME IN) BUT IT MAY ALSO REFLECT THE PERCENTAGE OF EACH POPULATION WHO “THOUGHT” THEY COULD GET TO THAT LEVEL. MAYBE NOT SEEING AN AWFUL LOT OF BLACK PEOPLE IN THAT POSITION IS DISCOURAGING TO A BLACK KID WHO WOULD LIKE TO BE A SPORTS JOURNALIST? ZZZIPP WONDERS IF IT’S DIFFERENT FOR ATHLETES BECAUSE PERFORMANCE IN SPORT IS SOMETHING THAT CAN BE MEASURED AND IS HARDER TO DENY, AND MAYBE ONCE THERE IS THE VISIBILITY IT BECOMES A VIABLE OPTION (SOMETHING TO USE VALUABLE RESOURCES ON).
DIDN’T MEAN TO IMPLY YOU WERE RACIST STEPHEN THAT WAS ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS ZZZZIPP THOUGHT TOO (WONDERING ABOUT THE DESIRE). IT’S AN HONEST QUESTION PROBABLY BUT ZZZZIPP DOESN’T THINK IT IS TRUE. FOR LOTS OF REASONS, BUT THE MAIN ONE IS THAT IT ASSUMES YOU CAN MAKE THAT KIND OF GENERALIZATION ABOUT A RACE OF PEOPLE. A LOT OF WHITE PEOPLE SEE LITERATURE AS A MARGINAL ENTERPRISE TOO, BUT THEY AREN’T THE ONES WRITING. RACEZZ DON’T VOTE AS A BLOC.
ZZZZIPP IS CONFUSED ABOUT WHY HE PUT “THOUGHT” IN QUOTATION MARKS. HAVE TO GET OFF INTERNET.
thx 4 yr thoughts, zzzipp, makes sense to me… wish i wouldn’t’ve generalized at all…. just want every1 to feel welcome in whatever community they feel like belonging to… love all peoples
Thank you. I like McEwan quite a bit. And I like Tolstoy, but I don’t think he’s more, um, creative or successful than, say, Gogol or Gorky or Dostoevsky, and yet Anna Karenina (Tolstoy) was another book hailed as just shy of a masterpiece. It was a great interview otherwise, I thought, with some depth about how novels are messy creations and even the best of the best are never perfect. To hear McEwan say this makes me feel more forgiving towards other writers and myself.
Beautifully said. Yes, yes, yes & yes. Thank you for this.
@A.J. – Thanks for pointing this out, as I jumped into the “non-white” usage myself without thinking the way I now realize I wish I had.
Does anyone else object to the words “non-white” to talk about people of color? Referring to people by what they are vs what they aren’t is a better tactic. Although I think it further points to the inadvertent racism talked about in the post. It would be like calling gay people “non-straights.” Not cool.
Point taken. I was just trying to mix it up because I felt like I was saying people of color too much.
Abbreviating is also an option: POC. Because you’re right. Writing out “people of color” every other sentence gets long.
“They were talking about all these “great books” and every single one of them was by an old white male.”
Oh come on, this is cheap.
I think it’s fine, especially in the context of this conversation. And the analogy to gays is goofy.
I meant to respond as a reply but instead wrote another comment… Reply is below.
It really does and I did want to be sure I was talking not just about black people, for example, because all too often discussions about POC get reduced to black/white.
Mike, you raise some interesting points in your posts, and I can tell that you mean well, but I think the division you ascribe between “domestic realism” and “experimental” (or non-realist/traditional) writing is a bit problematic and oversimplifies this “problem.”
For one, there are many writers of color and of lower socioeconomic classes who write, or have written, “domestic realism,” and most of the original postmodern writers–guys like Barthelme–were middle class white dudes. Wasn’t Bartheleme’s father a professor and a Penn graduate? In fact, one of the main criticisms of postmodernism is in fact its well-known exclusion of women and writers of color. Toni Morrison, for instance, is pretty postmodern, yet often not allowed into the PoMo Boys Club.
I think your aesthetic division here might–unintentionally, mind you–make the problem worse, because the implication in your posts is that “domestic realism” is “white,” as if the only “domestic” experience worth writing about is that of middle-class white people, when a collection like Ed Jones’s “Lost in The City” proves that the “domestic” life of black people in Washington, DC is worth writing about, and I doubt anyone would describe that book as anything other than “realist” and dealing with the “domestic” (save for a few of the stories in the book that have a few “magical realist” strains). Jones was born and raised in inner-city DC, and never knew his father.
For me, then, the issue is less about aesthetic and more about the differences in support amongst the classes. Many MFA students are children of parents who attended college themselves (like Barthelme, everyone’s favorite subversive postmodernist), and these parents are more likely to support their child’s decision to write. On the other hand, students from working class backgrounds (like Jones)–students who are more likely to be first-generation college students–often have to fight tooth and nail to sell their parents, extended family, and friends back home on their desire to pursue writing (Jones didn’t pursue his MFA until his late 30’s, early 40’s). Many of these first-generation college students become exhausted, and just give up. I know, because as an instructor of writing, I’ve seen this a few times, and it’s heartbreaking, and it has little to do with “aesthetic.” Sorry.
This is about the realities of privilege, and I think it’s counterproductive to create neat, aesthetic binaries along class lines, because then we can just pretend that the problem is simply one of “aesthetics,” when in fact the problem is much larger than that.
Michael — of course I’m generalizing, which can be sloppy. But responding to a claim about a trend with specific counter-examples is non-responsive (of course there are people like Ed Jones). Ed Jones actually reinforces my point, anyway. Black people who are willing to write stories middle class white people can easily understand and appreciate get more support more easily than those who don’t. This is not to say that to be not-white is inherently to be experimental, or to be poor is the same, or something, it’s to say that there are a whole host of expectations about the world and therefore about fiction that go along with class and race and gender and so on, and the people with a certain set of expectations also rule our institutions, which is how, against all reason, the majority of writers with money and status manage to convince themselves our samey, mealy mash of literary magazines publishing the same flavorless tripe year after year is worth reading: it *is* rewarding and worth reading, if you’re entirely a part of that culture.
I can tell you’re missing my point rather completely when you write this: “I think your aesthetic division here might–unintentionally, mind you–make the problem worse, because the implication in your posts is that “domestic realism” is ‘white,’ as if the only ‘domestic’ experience worth writing about is that of middle-class white people”
That’s not at all what it implies if you’re willing to look at domestic realism as it actually exists, rather than as it theoretically exists. Domestic realism isn’t just realistic stories about the domestic lives of people in general — there are certain cultural expectations about the genre as a whole that make it tend towards a more middle class white perspective. Ideas about agency, ideas about what sort of problems are worth writing about (affairs! everyone is having affairs!), ideas about appropriate language, things like that. Of course some people who aren’t white share those ideas about storytelling, but my experience has been that on a linguistic level and on the level of expectations for and ideas about life, to not be white or middle class is often to feel an estrangement from those conventions. Not because you’re not good enough for them, but because you have a different outlook on reality.
For a semi-extreme example that makes my point, Ed Jones’ stories have plenty of dialect within the dialogue. However, if any of that language were to find its way into the narration, if that were in fact the status quo language in which the stories were told, Ed Jones would be shit out of luck. Which is not to say that all fiction by black writers should be written in Black American English, but it is to say that the official literary language is undeniably a white middle class dialect. If you feel alienated by that dialect, good luck publishing. (Personally I don’t, but I’m a third-generation college graduate on one side, so I wouldn’t, would I? My family marked ourselves as “worthy” of better by talking like “good” writers, and to the extent that I maintain other speech patterns and styles, I often get very blank looks in class discussion.)
In other words, “realism” is a constructed, historically contingent concept, and it was constructed for the comfort and pleasure of white people with disposable income.
Nor have I denied, if you actually read what I’m writing, the material aspects of this, and the problems of privilege. I agree those are huge. But they’re actually the source of this other divide I see. To be poor and to not be privileged is often to find the appeal stories like those by John Cheever utterly mystifying. The fact is that if you write the stories MFA committees want to read, they will accept you and give you funding, poor or black or otherwise, in general. But you’ve got to write what they want to read.
Also, I think this notion that academic lit mags favor “domestic realism” is a bit exaggerated. I see a ton of non-realist work in MFA-supported mags all the time. This idea that MFA-supported mags are publishing mostly domestic realism is overblown. Sure, maybe the domestic realism stories are more likely to be BASS’ed, but that doesn’t mean that experimental work isn’t appearing in MFA-supported lit journals, so why blame the journals? It seems like some of you are blaming the wrong people here. I run into MFA students all the time who work at journals who are always on the lookout for work that’s non-realist. Not sure what journals some of you are reading, or if you’re really just picking up the latest BASS edited by Stephen King or Jane Smiley and using that as evidence to indict academic lit mags.
Definitely buying that book. I’ve always had that question. I’ve always called it self-segregation, but maybe this book will enlighten me.
Anyways, I don’t really have much to say. My best friend these days is a black dude who talks like a white dude. There’s only two people in my section who are both white and have authority. Everyone else is a minority. The top dog is Samoan. The incoming top dog is black. The underbosses are black and Mexican. And somehow we honkeys get along and get all our work done. Occasionally someone makes a racist comment toward me or one of the other white guys. It’s so rare we laugh with everyone else; probably we’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be spat on for the color of our skin. So I’m saying that my current experience in life doesn’t lend much to it.
I do know that people with really thin skins–people who can’t stand to hear the words “fag,” “nigger,” “cunt,” “bitch,” “dyke,” or any other slur and apparently think there’s some sort of invisible rule set regarding free speech that the rest of us simply aren’t aware of–really fucking piss me off. The last racially charged argument I got into was with a black guy (we’re on good terms now) who insisted on calling me “boy.” Finally I confronted him and it was diffused with a simple question: how’d you like it if I called you that? Let’s try my fucking name.
Blah blah blah. In the real world where whites, blacks, and hispanics all co-mingle in neighborhoods like Brooklyn, Baltimore, we find unity in just one thing: we’re fucking poor, Roxane, and YOU haven’t lived until you know what that’s like. So quit your bitching. Jesus christ.
I mean at least your job, life, and situation provided you the liberty and funds to actually go to AWP.
Being from Haiti, I think I have a sense of what it means to be poor. Please stop assuming you’re the only person in the world who understands poverty, particularly given the difference between relative poverty and absolute poverty. This is not bitching. This is discussing an issue and I will do this, however you choose to refer to it, until my fingers fall off. Suck it.
“That’s not at all what it implies if you’re willing to look at domestic realism as it actually exists, rather than as it theoretically exists. Domestic realism isn’t just realistic stories about the domestic lives of people in general — there are certain cultural expectations about the genre as a whole that make it tend towards a more middle class white perspective.”
But these “cultural expectations” can be found in other genres or traditions, so you it’s problematic to assign them to one genre or tradition. Are you familiar with postmodernism’s rise in the United States, and how many of the writers who came out of it were middle-class white men from the Northeast?
“Ideas about agency, ideas about what sort of problems are worth writing about (affairs! everyone is having affairs!), ideas about appropriate language, things like that. Of course some people who aren’t white share those ideas about storytelling, but my experience has been that on a linguistic level and on the level of expectations for and ideas about life, to not be white or middle class is often to feel an estrangement from those conventions. Not because you’re not good enough for them, but because you have a different outlook on reality.”
Ideas about ideas, ideas about ideas about ideas about ideas (everyone is writing about BIG ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas)! Things like that. Of course, some people who aren’t white share those BIG ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas, but my experience has been that on a linguistic level and on the level of expectations for and about writing about BIG ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas and the death of the author and texts about texts, to not be middle class and the child of Penn graduates with an MFA from Brown is often to feel an estrangement from those BIG IDEA conventions. Not because you’re not good enough for them, but because you have a different outlook on reality.
“For a semi-extreme example that makes my point, Ed Jones’ stories have plenty of dialect within the dialogue. However, if any of that language were to find its way into the narration, if that were in fact the status quo language in which the stories were told, Ed Jones would be shit out of luck. Which is not to say that all fiction by black writers should be written in Black American English, but it is to say that the official literary language is undeniably a white middle class dialect”
Yeah, but this isn’t merely an issue of “domestic realism,” because work that is driven by dialect–and by that I mean, dialect in the narration–can still fall within the genre or tradition of realism. You seem to be using “domestic realism” as shorthand for something else that’s been stripped of its complex and extremely varied historical context.
“In other words, “realism” is a constructed, historically contingent concept, and it was constructed for the comfort and pleasure of white people with disposable income.”
It is? So Rebecca Harding Davis wrote “Life in the Iron Mills” to make middle-class white people with disposable income comfortable?
To portray realism in such an extreme way undercuts your point, while ignoring its complex historical context and other genres and traditions that are just as susceptible to hegemony.
btw, Mike, I do agree with your point on dialect. Most of my current fiction is driven by dialect in the narration and is set in the South (to make matters “worse,” the stories I’m writing now are dialect-driven and set inside of a state mental hospital). I have to hustle my ass off to place this work, usually by sending out to 40 places at a time, even though I know its good stuff and that it’ll eventually be picked up by the 40th journal.
However, I have just as much of a hard time placing this work at journals that pitch themselves as open to non-realist/experimental work as I do at journals like Prairie Schooner, and I’m not seeing too many dialect-driven stories in the journals that purport to be open to different stuff; so, as someone who writes dialect-driven work and writes about people on the margins, I don’t see this particular issue of dialect as one of “realism” vs the other -isms.
Is it? Do you really read Updike and Bellow and count them among the all-time greatest? I don’t.
lol, okay. Yeah, that’s not cheap. I thought they were referring to some of the actual all-time greats.
Updike is a colossal joke. It makes me depressed that he was considered a “Major American writer.”
Holy shit, I did hear that. I was on the complete other side of the room though. I could hear that lady and wanted to go check it out but it was over by the time I could figure out where it was coming from. I remember thinking “This is way too early in the morning for a revolution.” Thanks for the info. Glad to hear it was a moment of significance and not some stupid publicity stunt.
So at this point you feel like my argument that poor people and black writers are kept out of MFA programs and lit mags because they don’t necessarily like to write the same way as middle class white people is wrong because middlw class white people also dominated the creation of postmodern literature. (Which is, um, an interesting gloss on the history of postmodernism.)
You’re really doing a bang-up job here, dude.
Also, this quote is why I’m done engaging you: “It is? So Rebecca Harding Davis wrote “Life in the Iron Mills” to make middle-class white people with disposable income comfortable?”
That is a willful misreading at best. Again, I’m talking about a trend, and you’re talking about a specific example. That’s ridiculous. Furthermore, to talk about the appeal of a genre is not to say that everyone who writes in that genre is to explicitly focus on that appeal. The appeal of fantasy, broadly speaking, is escapism. Did China Meiville write Iron Council in order to help people enjoy escapism? Of course not. But the statement, generally speaking, holds true.
You don’t have to like or buy my generalizations, but to continuously respond to them with a mixture of specific examples and HEY BUT I HAVE THE OPPOSITE IMPRESSION is silly. Either we’re talking in generalities, in which case the evidence is going to be weak either way and you can at least speak respectfully when offering your alternative, or we’re talking about specific examples, in which case we’re not addressing the original question. To mix the specific with the general and treat the specific as evidence of the general doesn’t work — the plural of anecdote is not data.
(applause)
I don’t know if this is too far afield, but I must say, without attempting to criticize anyone or cast about blame, that academic conferences in general always make me feel uncomfortable. I think that the AWP shares in the general elitist, hierarchical, patriarchal (when was the last AWP keynote speaker a woman) approach of all academic conferences. It seems like there are attitudes that are welcome and unwelcome (and, unfortunately, this probably applies to some literary journals as well).
Academic wisdom—welcome
Traditional wisdom—unwelcome
Skepticism—welcome
Spirituality—unwelcome
Opinions of “experts”—welcome
All opinions equal—unwelcome
Argumentativeness—welcome
Politeness, respect—unwelcome
I think this feeling is probably shared by others who come from “traditional” or “indigenous” backgrounds. And it is hardly an incentive to go to all the trouble of attending an event that you end up feeling hurt or angry about.
“Again, I’m talking about a trend, and you’re talking about a specific example.”
No, actually I’m talking about one of the earliest works of “Realism” in American literary history—a work that helped shape and define “Realism.” Harding’s story is as integral to “Realism” as “Huck Finn” is to the vernacular-driven American novel.
My citation of Harding wasn’t just some random “example” I pulled out of a hat.
“To mix the specific with the general and treat the specific as evidence of the general doesn’t work — the plural of anecdote is not data.”
Uh, I cited a work that’s largely considered THE seminal work of American “Realism,” DUDE. Yet, come to find out, you’re not really discussing “Realism”–more than iscussing “trends” that you’ve noticed in lit mags. Thanks for translating “domestic realism” for me. Trends. About white people. In plain prose. In the burbs. Domestic realism! Eureka!
Anyway, my initial response was anything but combative; you seem to be the one who is getting all defensive, but if that’s what you want, hey, I can oblige.
I also haven’t “glossed” over a history of pomo. It’s well-documented that American postmodernist literature is dominated by white, middle-class men and often excludes women and minorities. This is, of course, not to suggest that postmodernism doesn’t have redeemable qualities, but that it’s as susceptible to the same hegemonic biases and prejudices of any other genre or tradition in American letters.
“Again, I’m talking about a trend, and you’re talking about a specific example.”
No, actually I’m talking about one of the earliest works of “Realism” in American literary history—a work that helped shape and define “Realism.” Harding’s story is as integral to “Realism” as “Huck Finn” is to the vernacular-driven American novel.
My citation of Harding wasn’t just some random “example” I pulled out of a hat.
“To mix the specific with the general and treat the specific as evidence of the general doesn’t work — the plural of anecdote is not data.”
Uh, I cited a work that’s largely considered THE seminal work of American “Realism,” DUDE. Yet, come to find out, you’re not really discussing “Realism”–more than discussing “trends” that you’ve noticed in lit mags. Thanks for translating “domestic realism” for me. Trends. About white people. In plain prose. In the burbs. Domestic realism! Eureka!
Anyway, my initial response was anything but combative; you seem to be the one who is getting all defensive, but if that’s what you want, hey, I can oblige.
I also haven’t “glossed” over a history of pomo. It’s well-documented that American postmodernist literature is dominated by white, middle-class men and excludes women and minorities. This is, of course, not to suggest that postmodernism doesn’t have redeemable qualities, but that it’s as susceptible to the same hegemonic biases and prejudices of any other genre or tradition in American letters.
Thank you. I like McEwan quite a bit. And I like Tolstoy, but I don’t think he’s more, um, creative or successful than, say, Gogol or Gorky or Dostoevsky, and yet Anna Karenina (Tolstoy) was another book hailed as just shy of a masterpiece. It was a great interview otherwise, I thought, with some depth about how novels are messy creations and even the best of the best are never perfect. To hear McEwan say this makes me feel more forgiving towards other writers and myself.
Beautifully said. Yes, yes, yes & yes. Thank you for this.
@A.J. – Thanks for pointing this out, as I jumped into the “non-white” usage myself without thinking the way I now realize I wish I had.
Mike, you raise some interesting points in your posts, and I can tell that you mean well, but I think the division you ascribe between “domestic realism” and “experimental” (or non-realist/traditional) writing is a bit problematic and oversimplifies this “problem.”
For one, there are many writers of color and of lower socioeconomic classes who write, or have written, “domestic realism,” and most of the original postmodern writers–guys like Barthelme–were middle class white dudes. Wasn’t Bartheleme’s father a professor and a Penn graduate? In fact, one of the main criticisms of postmodernism is in fact its well-known exclusion of women and writers of color. Toni Morrison, for instance, is pretty postmodern, yet often not allowed into the PoMo Boys Club.
I think your aesthetic division here might–unintentionally, mind you–make the problem worse, because the implication in your posts is that “domestic realism” is “white,” as if the only “domestic” experience worth writing about is that of middle-class white people, when a collection like Ed Jones’s “Lost in The City” proves that the “domestic” life of black people in Washington, DC is worth writing about, and I doubt anyone would describe that book as anything other than “realist” and dealing with the “domestic” (save for a few of the stories in the book that have a few “magical realist” strains). Jones was born and raised in inner-city DC, and never knew his father.
For me, then, the issue is less about aesthetic and more about the differences in support amongst the classes. Many MFA students are children of parents who attended college themselves (like Barthelme, everyone’s favorite subversive postmodernist), and these parents are more likely to support their child’s decision to write. On the other hand, students from working class backgrounds (like Jones)–students who are more likely to be first-generation college students–often have to fight tooth and nail to sell their parents, extended family, and friends back home on their desire to pursue writing (Jones didn’t pursue his MFA until his late 30’s, early 40’s). Many of these first-generation college students become exhausted, and just give up. I know, because as an instructor of writing, I’ve seen this a few times, and it’s heartbreaking, and it has little to do with “aesthetic.” Sorry.
This is about the realities of privilege, and I think it’s counterproductive to create neat, aesthetic binaries along class lines, because then we can just pretend that the problem is simply one of “aesthetics,” when in fact the problem is much larger than that.
Michael — of course I’m generalizing, which can be sloppy. But responding to a claim about a trend with specific counter-examples is non-responsive (of course there are people like Ed Jones). Ed Jones actually reinforces my point, anyway. Black people who are willing to write stories middle class white people can easily understand and appreciate get more support more easily than those who don’t. This is not to say that to be not-white is inherently to be experimental, or to be poor is the same, or something, it’s to say that there are a whole host of expectations about the world and therefore about fiction that go along with class and race and gender and so on, and the people with a certain set of expectations also rule our institutions, which is how, against all reason, the majority of writers with money and status manage to convince themselves our samey, mealy mash of literary magazines publishing the same flavorless tripe year after year is worth reading: it *is* rewarding and worth reading, if you’re entirely a part of that culture.
I can tell you’re missing my point rather completely when you write this: “I think your aesthetic division here might–unintentionally, mind you–make the problem worse, because the implication in your posts is that “domestic realism” is ‘white,’ as if the only ‘domestic’ experience worth writing about is that of middle-class white people”
That’s not at all what it implies if you’re willing to look at domestic realism as it actually exists, rather than as it theoretically exists. Domestic realism isn’t just realistic stories about the domestic lives of people in general — there are certain cultural expectations about the genre as a whole that make it tend towards a more middle class white perspective. Ideas about agency, ideas about what sort of problems are worth writing about (affairs! everyone is having affairs!), ideas about appropriate language, things like that. Of course some people who aren’t white share those ideas about storytelling, but my experience has been that on a linguistic level and on the level of expectations for and ideas about life, to not be white or middle class is often to feel an estrangement from those conventions. Not because you’re not good enough for them, but because you have a different outlook on reality.
For a semi-extreme example that makes my point, Ed Jones’ stories have plenty of dialect within the dialogue. However, if any of that language were to find its way into the narration, if that were in fact the status quo language in which the stories were told, Ed Jones would be shit out of luck. Which is not to say that all fiction by black writers should be written in Black American English, but it is to say that the official literary language is undeniably a white middle class dialect. If you feel alienated by that dialect, good luck publishing. (Personally I don’t, but I’m a third-generation college graduate on one side, so I wouldn’t, would I? My family marked ourselves as “worthy” of better by talking like “good” writers, and to the extent that I maintain other speech patterns and styles, I often get very blank looks in class discussion.)
In other words, “realism” is a constructed, historically contingent concept, and it was constructed for the comfort and pleasure of white people with disposable income.
Nor have I denied, if you actually read what I’m writing, the material aspects of this, and the problems of privilege. I agree those are huge. But they’re actually the source of this other divide I see. To be poor and to not be privileged is often to find the appeal stories like those by John Cheever utterly mystifying. The fact is that if you write the stories MFA committees want to read, they will accept you and give you funding, poor or black or otherwise, in general. But you’ve got to write what they want to read.
Also, I think this notion that academic lit mags favor “domestic realism” is a bit exaggerated. I see a ton of non-realist work in MFA-supported mags all the time. This idea that MFA-supported mags are publishing mostly domestic realism is overblown. Sure, maybe the domestic realism stories are more likely to be BASS’ed, but that doesn’t mean that experimental work isn’t appearing in MFA-supported lit journals, so why blame the journals? It seems like some of you are blaming the wrong people here. I run into MFA students all the time who work at journals who are always on the lookout for work that’s non-realist. Not sure what journals some of you are reading, or if you’re really just picking up the latest BASS edited by Stephen King or Jane Smiley and using that as evidence to indict academic lit mags.
“That’s not at all what it implies if you’re willing to look at domestic realism as it actually exists, rather than as it theoretically exists. Domestic realism isn’t just realistic stories about the domestic lives of people in general — there are certain cultural expectations about the genre as a whole that make it tend towards a more middle class white perspective.”
But these “cultural expectations” can be found in other genres or traditions, so you it’s problematic to assign them to one genre or tradition. Are you familiar with postmodernism’s rise in the United States, and how many of the writers who came out of it were middle-class white men from the Northeast?
“Ideas about agency, ideas about what sort of problems are worth writing about (affairs! everyone is having affairs!), ideas about appropriate language, things like that. Of course some people who aren’t white share those ideas about storytelling, but my experience has been that on a linguistic level and on the level of expectations for and ideas about life, to not be white or middle class is often to feel an estrangement from those conventions. Not because you’re not good enough for them, but because you have a different outlook on reality.”
Ideas about ideas, ideas about ideas about ideas about ideas (everyone is writing about BIG ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas)! Things like that. Of course, some people who aren’t white share those BIG ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas, but my experience has been that on a linguistic level and on the level of expectations for and about writing about BIG ideas about writing about ideas about writing about ideas and the death of the author and texts about texts, to not be middle class and the child of Penn graduates with an MFA from Brown is often to feel an estrangement from those BIG IDEA conventions. Not because you’re not good enough for them, but because you have a different outlook on reality.
“For a semi-extreme example that makes my point, Ed Jones’ stories have plenty of dialect within the dialogue. However, if any of that language were to find its way into the narration, if that were in fact the status quo language in which the stories were told, Ed Jones would be shit out of luck. Which is not to say that all fiction by black writers should be written in Black American English, but it is to say that the official literary language is undeniably a white middle class dialect”
Yeah, but this isn’t merely an issue of “domestic realism,” because work that is driven by dialect–and by that I mean, dialect in the narration–can still fall within the genre or tradition of realism. You seem to be using “domestic realism” as shorthand for something else that’s been stripped of its complex and extremely varied historical context.
“In other words, “realism” is a constructed, historically contingent concept, and it was constructed for the comfort and pleasure of white people with disposable income.”
It is? So Rebecca Harding Davis wrote “Life in the Iron Mills” to make middle-class white people with disposable income comfortable?
To portray realism in such an extreme way undercuts your point, while ignoring its complex historical context and other genres and traditions that are just as susceptible to hegemony.
btw, Mike, I do agree with your point on dialect. Most of my current fiction is driven by dialect in the narration and is set in the South (to make matters “worse,” the stories I’m writing now are dialect-driven and set inside of a state mental hospital). I have to hustle my ass off to place this work, usually by sending out to 40 places at a time, even though I know its good stuff and that it’ll eventually be picked up by the 40th journal.
However, I have just as much of a hard time placing this work at journals that pitch themselves as open to non-realist/experimental work as I do at journals like Prairie Schooner, and I’m not seeing too many dialect-driven stories in the journals that purport to be open to different stuff; so, as someone who writes dialect-driven work and writes about people on the margins, I don’t see this particular issue of dialect as one of “realism” vs the other -isms.
So at this point you feel like my argument that poor people and black writers are kept out of MFA programs and lit mags because they don’t necessarily like to write the same way as middle class white people is wrong because middlw class white people also dominated the creation of postmodern literature. (Which is, um, an interesting gloss on the history of postmodernism.)
You’re really doing a bang-up job here, dude.
Also, this quote is why I’m done engaging you: “It is? So Rebecca Harding Davis wrote “Life in the Iron Mills” to make middle-class white people with disposable income comfortable?”
That is a willful misreading at best. Again, I’m talking about a trend, and you’re talking about a specific example. That’s ridiculous. Furthermore, to talk about the appeal of a genre is not to say that everyone who writes in that genre is to explicitly focus on that appeal. The appeal of fantasy, broadly speaking, is escapism. Did China Meiville write Iron Council in order to help people enjoy escapism? Of course not. But the statement, generally speaking, holds true.
You don’t have to like or buy my generalizations, but to continuously respond to them with a mixture of specific examples and HEY BUT I HAVE THE OPPOSITE IMPRESSION is silly. Either we’re talking in generalities, in which case the evidence is going to be weak either way and you can at least speak respectfully when offering your alternative, or we’re talking about specific examples, in which case we’re not addressing the original question. To mix the specific with the general and treat the specific as evidence of the general doesn’t work — the plural of anecdote is not data.
“Again, I’m talking about a trend, and you’re talking about a specific example.”
No, actually I’m talking about one of the earliest works of “Realism” in American literary history—a work that helped shape and define “Realism.” Harding’s story is as integral to “Realism” as “Huck Finn” is to the vernacular-driven American novel.
My citation of Harding wasn’t just some random “example” I pulled out of a hat.
“To mix the specific with the general and treat the specific as evidence of the general doesn’t work — the plural of anecdote is not data.”
Uh, I cited a work that’s largely considered THE seminal work of American “Realism,” DUDE. Yet, come to find out, you’re not really discussing “Realism”–more than iscussing “trends” that you’ve noticed in lit mags. Thanks for translating “domestic realism” for me. Trends. About white people. In plain prose. In the burbs. Domestic realism! Eureka!
Anyway, my initial response was anything but combative; you seem to be the one who is getting all defensive, but if that’s what you want, hey, I can oblige.
I also haven’t “glossed” over a history of pomo. It’s well-documented that American postmodernist literature is dominated by white, middle-class men and often excludes women and minorities. This is, of course, not to suggest that postmodernism doesn’t have redeemable qualities, but that it’s as susceptible to the same hegemonic biases and prejudices of any other genre or tradition in American letters.
“Again, I’m talking about a trend, and you’re talking about a specific example.”
No, actually I’m talking about one of the earliest works of “Realism” in American literary history—a work that helped shape and define “Realism.” Harding’s story is as integral to “Realism” as “Huck Finn” is to the vernacular-driven American novel.
My citation of Harding wasn’t just some random “example” I pulled out of a hat.
“To mix the specific with the general and treat the specific as evidence of the general doesn’t work — the plural of anecdote is not data.”
Uh, I cited a work that’s largely considered THE seminal work of American “Realism,” DUDE. Yet, come to find out, you’re not really discussing “Realism”–more than discussing “trends” that you’ve noticed in lit mags. Thanks for translating “domestic realism” for me. Trends. About white people. In plain prose. In the burbs. Domestic realism! Eureka!
Anyway, my initial response was anything but combative; you seem to be the one who is getting all defensive, but if that’s what you want, hey, I can oblige.
I also haven’t “glossed” over a history of pomo. It’s well-documented that American postmodernist literature is dominated by white, middle-class men and excludes women and minorities. This is, of course, not to suggest that postmodernism doesn’t have redeemable qualities, but that it’s as susceptible to the same hegemonic biases and prejudices of any other genre or tradition in American letters.
Nice post Roxane.
As a black male writer at AWP, I identified with this post. I want to comment more, but I don’t know where to start – or whether or not I could stop.
Just want to say thanks.
Oh, and I first heard the AWP joke as “All White Penises.” Either way, pretty funny.
Every time I attend a book conference, this thought crosses my mind: “Hm, here we are again. The whities.”
Might I add, thank you for writing this post. I think it’s really important for people to talk about.
One of the big obstacles here is the compulsion to backhand organisations like WILLA for their “contribution” to segregating by ‘not reaching out’ or by ‘gender policing’ or whatever – the usual crude arguments levelled against them in whatever sophisticated language. As though differences in the identity of writers took place on a level plain. It’s what Stanley Fish, in his more critically acute days, called ‘moral algebra’. But, rather than assuming the identity organizations are ringing their writers around into enclaves, the place to really start, I think, is with the comforting assumption for straight white writers that minorities are already covered, in fact too darn much, as a matter of fact. They need to mingle more, if anything, as we’ve been sayin’. Once that structure is in place, two things occur: one, some people of minority or disadvantaged status turn on the identity organizations precisely out of concern for such ghettoization, which is entirely a product of the non-engaging attitude toward those groups. And secondly, I think there is a very real sense in which the culturally mediating venues of small lit and new writers use the sense that oh, they [insert underrepresented minority] have their own thing” to avoid devoting resources into affirmative action reach outs. There’s this general hypocritical double play when it comes to minorities where, on the one hand, straight white men (sometimes women) like to announce on their behalf that it’s discriminatory to include on the basis of some axis of identity, as though one could not provision resources on such a material line of identity without an expectation for cultural work along that line of identity in return (for example, you could sponsor attendees of racial, gendered and sexual difference, without simultaneous expecting (or denying) that they must speak as testifiers of their difference alone). meanwhile, on the other hand, having campaigned for such lack of differentiation, when the obvious is pointed out, for instance, where are all the black people?, it bleeds into a general non-knowledge, a blank sense of “well, who do we invite?” or the ever defensive “well, what would you do”, as though this kind of white noise were not a highly engineered response to the question of “who else but us?”. added to that the self-important sense of the “diversity” where the cultural mediating venues already congratulate themselves on the effulgence of talent they believe they contain within them, and do, but which runs to the limits of experimentalism let alone the various modes of representation. A concrete suggestion I would make is for every one attending AWP next year to find a minority writer they like and encourage them to come both as a minority and a writer of exceeding interest. If they don’t have the money to come, help them financially. There’s no need to be embarrassed about asking someone to attend because they’re black or Hispanic or gay or lesbian; nor is it condescending unless you somehow think their difference isn’t something that deserves people to be so blind to it they make no efforts to disperse privilege to them so as to allow them to exercise their own autonomy. Nor for that matter is anyone saying it has to be someone who isn’t a straight white male but how about a very poor one, at a university or not? Or a disabled one? And definitely work on AWP through letters, I suppose, campaigns at the conferences perhaps, to take active measures to pursue methods, backed by money, of correcting the underrepresentation. Like no strings attached grants, for instance.
One final thing: to Gene’s point about economics, if writers of color are paying out of their own pocket to attend conferences with other writers of color, it’s probably because writerly community is a priority to them. But community is often a pre-requisite to cross-pollination. I basically think the fact that these writers may pay to attend those conferences doesnt exclude economics as an issue, precisely because they’re already slugged once just to achieve a local version of the same exploration of the surrounds of their writing that AWP offers white writers as a sort of two-in-one. If anything, it’s a perfect case for why minorities should be actively courted with grants or subsidies. Equality is not the same as equity: under equity, you give extra to the underprivileged, not just the sham opportunity for a chance at the same.
the writing communities in baltimore are definitely segregated. you have the spoken word community that is mostly black and then the sort of literary journal writing thing that is mostly white. the two don’t have a lot of contact with each other, as far as i can see. it would appear to me that this is self segregation on both sides. it would appear to me that is has at least some to do with the actual interests of the people involved. i would venture though that there would be more crossover between the groups, maybe a lot more, if the level of comfort were higher. level of comfort i guess might be an easy way to say ‘all the deep rooted problems we have with race.’ and if the writing community is segregated here then the visual art community is the same, or maybe more so. and the music.
I think this is a really, really key point Reynard makes: “when people of color have the opportunity to go to college, i think a lot of the time there is a ton of pressure from the family and counselors and so on for them to get a specialized, high-paying job, which makes it very unlikely that they will decide to become a writer even if they are a voracious reader and it is something they would like to do.”
And I see this not just with people of color but with working class families across the color spectrum. Because a lot of these folks are the first in their families to attend college, it’s not to be taken lightly and it’s meant to lead to a better life–which, face it, studying the arts is not probably going to do. And if you’re not going to college, you’re probably working very hard at two, maybe three difficult jobs that don’t exactly allow you a lot of time and energy for writing in your free time. I don’t know how these problems are solved in a way that brings more people of color and people of all economic backgrounds into the arts, but it’s a problem I’ve seen again and again volunteering in underserved communities, whether as a writing mentor or doing theatre programs or whatever. I’m not sure how you address it, other than maybe lots of scholarships for writing so that people don’t have to take out giant loans to do this thing that may not make them any money someday.
I demand that all future complaints be coupled with possible solutions. Otherwise, what good does opening your mouth do? The only possible good that can come of making a complaint without even a vague solution in mind is to exacerbate the issue and give you an endless talking point. As you said, you’re Haitian, not African-American, and thus I find it hard to believe you know even a fifth of the racism that inner-city blacks have experienced from society–be it the police, their schools, or whatever. They have twice the honor you do, though, because when they can, they do find and work out their solutions–whatever they may be–at least as far as I’ve seen. They don’t just spend their entire lives complaining about it. Why? Because their lives actually depend on finding a solution to their troubles. And so on.
The thing about you is that no matter how rich or successful you become you’ll always have a way to make people feel sorry for you. And in your circles it seems uncouth to call someone out for demanding pity. There’s beating a dead horse and then there’s killing the horse again. You’re killing the horse again.
Jesus Christ what a fucking shitbag. Watching you vomit your last meal (Christmas Turkey, 1994) and eat it down again for the hundred thousandth time is getting old.
Roxane Gay always talks like she’s being interviewed by Barbara Walters.
Fuck all this noise.
Nice post Roxane.
As a black male writer at AWP, I identified with this post. I want to comment more, but I don’t know where to start – or whether or not I could stop.
Just want to say thanks.
Oh, and I first heard the AWP joke as “All White Penises.” Either way, pretty funny.
That’s because I’m awesome.
Eventually you realize that no one’s watching while you shower and it’s cool if you finally scratch your asshole. Trust me, you’ll feel much better, asshole.
Every time I attend a book conference, this thought crosses my mind: “Hm, here we are again. The whities.”
Might I add, thank you for writing this post. I think it’s really important for people to talk about.
@phm:
While I celebrate in principle your (and my, and everybody’s) right to choose whatever words we’d like to express ourselves, the words you choose cause people to “react” and tend to derail the very discussion you are calling for.
So, in words magnitudes-of-order-less-inflammatory, I will echo phm’s sentiment that a discussion of solutions would be nice. (“nice” – ha ha ha- “nice” But that’s me, nice.)
I will add that posts like this one get people thinking, talking, discussing, and to me that IS part of the solution(s).
Timothy! I feel the same way about start stopping so I just jumped right in.
I heard the All White Penises joke too but then I forgot all about it until just now. That’s just as funny though.
You’re welcome!
One of the big obstacles here is the compulsion to backhand organisations like WILLA for their “contribution” to segregating by ‘not reaching out’ or by ‘gender policing’ or whatever – the usual crude arguments levelled against them in whatever sophisticated language. As though differences in the identity of writers took place on a level plain. It’s what Stanley Fish, in his more critically acute days, called ‘moral algebra’. But, rather than assuming the identity organizations are ringing their writers around into enclaves, the place to really start, I think, is with the comforting assumption for straight white writers that minorities are already covered, in fact too darn much, as a matter of fact. They need to mingle more, if anything, as we’ve been sayin’. Once that structure is in place, two things occur: one, some people of minority or disadvantaged status turn on the identity organizations precisely out of concern for such ghettoization, which is entirely a product of the non-engaging attitude toward those groups. And secondly, I think there is a very real sense in which the culturally mediating venues of small lit and new writers use the sense that oh, they [insert underrepresented minority] have their own thing” to avoid devoting resources into affirmative action reach outs. There’s this general hypocritical double play when it comes to minorities where, on the one hand, straight white men (sometimes women) like to announce on their behalf that it’s discriminatory to include on the basis of some axis of identity, as though one could not provision resources on such a material line of identity without an expectation for cultural work along that line of identity in return (for example, you could sponsor attendees of racial, gendered and sexual difference, without simultaneous expecting (or denying) that they must speak as testifiers of their difference alone). meanwhile, on the other hand, having campaigned for such lack of differentiation, when the obvious is pointed out, for instance, where are all the black people?, it bleeds into a general non-knowledge, a blank sense of “well, who do we invite?” or the ever defensive “well, what would you do”, as though this kind of white noise were not a highly engineered response to the question of “who else but us?”. added to that the self-important sense of the “diversity” where the cultural mediating venues already congratulate themselves on the effulgence of talent they believe they contain within them, and do, but which runs to the limits of experimentalism let alone the various modes of representation. A concrete suggestion I would make is for every one attending AWP next year to find a minority writer they like and encourage them to come both as a minority and a writer of exceeding interest. If they don’t have the money to come, help them financially. There’s no need to be embarrassed about asking someone to attend because they’re black or Hispanic or gay or lesbian; nor is it condescending unless you somehow think their difference isn’t something that deserves people to be so blind to it they make no efforts to disperse privilege to them so as to allow them to exercise their own autonomy. Nor for that matter is anyone saying it has to be someone who isn’t a straight white male but how about a very poor one, at a university or not? Or a disabled one? And definitely work on AWP through letters, I suppose, campaigns at the conferences perhaps, to take active measures to pursue methods, backed by money, of correcting the underrepresentation. Like no strings attached grants, for instance.
One final thing: to Gene’s point about economics, if writers of color are paying out of their own pocket to attend conferences with other writers of color, it’s probably because writerly community is a priority to them. But community is often a pre-requisite to cross-pollination. I basically think the fact that these writers may pay to attend those conferences doesnt exclude economics as an issue, precisely because they’re already slugged once just to achieve a local version of the same exploration of the surrounds of their writing that AWP offers white writers as a sort of two-in-one. If anything, it’s a perfect case for why minorities should be actively courted with grants or subsidies. Equality is not the same as equity: under equity, you give extra to the underprivileged, not just the sham opportunity for a chance at the same.
the writing communities in baltimore are definitely segregated. you have the spoken word community that is mostly black and then the sort of literary journal writing thing that is mostly white. the two don’t have a lot of contact with each other, as far as i can see. it would appear to me that this is self segregation on both sides. it would appear to me that is has at least some to do with the actual interests of the people involved. i would venture though that there would be more crossover between the groups, maybe a lot more, if the level of comfort were higher. level of comfort i guess might be an easy way to say ‘all the deep rooted problems we have with race.’ and if the writing community is segregated here then the visual art community is the same, or maybe more so. and the music.
I think this is a really, really key point Reynard makes: “when people of color have the opportunity to go to college, i think a lot of the time there is a ton of pressure from the family and counselors and so on for them to get a specialized, high-paying job, which makes it very unlikely that they will decide to become a writer even if they are a voracious reader and it is something they would like to do.”
And I see this not just with people of color but with working class families across the color spectrum. Because a lot of these folks are the first in their families to attend college, it’s not to be taken lightly and it’s meant to lead to a better life–which, face it, studying the arts is not probably going to do. And if you’re not going to college, you’re probably working very hard at two, maybe three difficult jobs that don’t exactly allow you a lot of time and energy for writing in your free time. I don’t know how these problems are solved in a way that brings more people of color and people of all economic backgrounds into the arts, but it’s a problem I’ve seen again and again volunteering in underserved communities, whether as a writing mentor or doing theatre programs or whatever. I’m not sure how you address it, other than maybe lots of scholarships for writing so that people don’t have to take out giant loans to do this thing that may not make them any money someday.
My wife is a “person of color” (Asian) and will KILL me in my sleep if either of our children grows up to become a literary short story writer.
The first time I came to this website I saw some phm comments and thought, “Oh, this guy’s kind of a dick and seems to be angry at everything/himself/potentially me. I hope not everyone here is like that.”
Turned out it was just phm.
I’m all alone.
There’s no-one here beside me.
— Phillip “P.H.” Madore
I demand that all future complaints be coupled with possible solutions. Otherwise, what good does opening your mouth do? The only possible good that can come of making a complaint without even a vague solution in mind is to exacerbate the issue and give you an endless talking point. As you said, you’re Haitian, not African-American, and thus I find it hard to believe you know even a fifth of the racism that inner-city blacks have experienced from society–be it the police, their schools, or whatever. They have twice the honor you do, though, because when they can, they do find and work out their solutions–whatever they may be–at least as far as I’ve seen. They don’t just spend their entire lives complaining about it. Why? Because their lives actually depend on finding a solution to their troubles. And so on.
The thing about you is that no matter how rich or successful you become you’ll always have a way to make people feel sorry for you. And in your circles it seems uncouth to call someone out for demanding pity. There’s beating a dead horse and then there’s killing the horse again. You’re killing the horse again.
Jesus Christ what a fucking shitbag. Watching you vomit your last meal (Christmas Turkey, 1994) and eat it down again for the hundred thousandth time is getting old.
Are you talking to your asshole?
Roxane Gay always talks like she’s being interviewed by Barbara Walters.
Fuck all this noise.
That’s because I’m awesome.
Eventually you realize that no one’s watching while you shower and it’s cool if you finally scratch your asshole. Trust me, you’ll feel much better, asshole.
THERE IS SO MUCH ANGER IN THIS ONE.
in DC, how great would it be to see a panel with Jereme, PHM, and Roxane?
I know I’m excited. How ’bout ya now?
@phm:
While I celebrate in principle your (and my, and everybody’s) right to choose whatever words we’d like to express ourselves, the words you choose cause people to “react” and tend to derail the very discussion you are calling for.
So, in words magnitudes-of-order-less-inflammatory, I will echo phm’s sentiment that a discussion of solutions would be nice. (“nice” – ha ha ha- “nice” But that’s me, nice.)
I will add that posts like this one get people thinking, talking, discussing, and to me that IS part of the solution(s).
Timothy! I feel the same way about start stopping so I just jumped right in.
I heard the All White Penises joke too but then I forgot all about it until just now. That’s just as funny though.
You’re welcome!
let’s put it this way. i spent a lot of “social time” trolling the ice cream aisle at king soopers.
I’m down for a free pass. I have lodging in DC.
@mimi
Maybe so. But don’t make me dig up the many complaints of “why should I have to do anything about something I claim is preventing me from reaching my full potential” which came out the LAST time (just a few months ago) Roxane Gay ignited a divisive conversation.
I should be more congenial and not comment at all, but sometimes the elephant in the room needs shooting.
The best thing about Roxane Gay is when she repeats her opinion (“Again, blah blah blah”) as if it’s fact and looks at her computer screen like the person disagreeing with her should probably be hauling her garbage right now but is instead arguing with her over the internet.
My wife is a “person of color” (Asian) and will KILL me in my sleep if either of our children grows up to become a literary short story writer.
The first time I came to this website I saw some phm comments and thought, “Oh, this guy’s kind of a dick and seems to be angry at everything/himself/potentially me. I hope not everyone here is like that.”
Turned out it was just phm.
I’m all alone.
There’s no-one here beside me.
— Phillip “P.H.” Madore
Are you talking to your asshole?
THERE IS SO MUCH ANGER IN THIS ONE.
in DC, how great would it be to see a panel with Jereme, PHM, and Roxane?
I know I’m excited. How ’bout ya now?
let’s put it this way. i spent a lot of “social time” trolling the ice cream aisle at king soopers.
I’m down for a free pass. I have lodging in DC.
@mimi
Maybe so. But don’t make me dig up the many complaints of “why should I have to do anything about something I claim is preventing me from reaching my full potential” which came out the LAST time (just a few months ago) Roxane Gay ignited a divisive conversation.
I should be more congenial and not comment at all, but sometimes the elephant in the room needs shooting.
The best thing about Roxane Gay is when she repeats her opinion (“Again, blah blah blah”) as if it’s fact and looks at her computer screen like the person disagreeing with her should probably be hauling her garbage right now but is instead arguing with her over the internet.
According to the Stuff White People Like Quiz, despite my blue eyes and
peaches ‘n’ cream complexion, I am only 35% white.
According to the Stuff White People Like Quiz, despite my blue eyes and
peaches ‘n’ cream complexion, I am only 35% white.
So about seven hundred years ago (give or take 680 years) I’m at this event at Poets House back when it was on Prince Street or Spring Street or wherever the hell it was. I’d been writing for awhile but was all new at this “poetry scene” business. I’m trying to see what it’s all about socially, who these poetry people are. So I went to this meet and greet thing.
Now listen, I’m all types of white. Not only that, I’ve got me a weenie and a set of beans in a bag, so as all you women and darker menfolk will instantly understand, I’ve got it fuckin made, right? Always have. That’s really all it takes to make it in this world. Maybe that’s why the all-white woman staff at Poetry House would not speak to me. Seriously, it was like, “HI I’m –” held out my hand, got sneered at, ignored, walked away from.
Meet and great? Open house? Welcome to our community? Bullshit. A circle-jerk from the get-go. A re-meet and suck up to the people who are supposedly important in the “community.” A show for the contributors that they were going through the motions that’d keep them a viable institution to suck up some govermental and private institution grants. Or whatever, Who knows?
But hey, I’m also all types of working class, okay, which makes me less “white” than a lot of you other white mammajammas and even less “white” than some of you black folk– believe it or not. I went to grad school nights at Queens College (Harvard of the Proletariat, ha-ha) while driving around in a van with my Salvadoran illegal immigrant friends by day cleaning offices and firehouses and so forth to pay my way. So I’m a piece of shit in a lot of people’s eyes. White trash. And I always will be.That’ll never change.
Anyhow, as I said, I get completely blown off by the fancy fuckin ladies running the show, and participating in the show, never mind the apparently important white men walking in they seemed intent on impressing. Okay, welcome to the wonderful world of rich people and their arts and their minions running their cute little institutions. You gotta suck up and make the scene and make yourself known, right? Never mind you may be some fuckin crazy, brilliant, dirty little ragamuffin genius of a 20th century Rimbaud. The little white (and some, increaslingly, not so white) ladies of institutional poetry and the little white (and some, increasingly, not so white) men who support those institutions won’t give a fuck unless you’re getting their attention through the proper institutions.
But here’s the part that counts as to above discussion: I get onto the elevator to get the fuck out of there and I’m thinking “what a bunch of self-satisfied, smug assholes.” Before the doors close another guy I spoke to, the only one there I’d had anything like a real conversation with, got onto the elevator. He was the only black guy there and he looked pissed, insulted and turned off way more even than I was. We rode the two or three flights down in silence. Just before the doors opened he drilled my eyes with his gaze. “Racists!” he shouted. He marched out.
Did he experience racism or merely the same classism that i did? I didn’t experience racism, right? That’d be impossible. I was the same “race” (white? is that a race? Are Hutus who discriminate against Bantus not “racist” because they’ve got the same melanin count, live on the same continent?) disgusted enough anyhow. I experienced classism, probably. I experienced a whole big bucketful of “who the fuck are you?” from these rather entitled white women who probably felt themselves the victims of sexism for being the ones who merely got to run the ‘house of poets’ while white men were getting the gigs parading around as the big fat, fancy important poet.
The literary world is a series of closely guarded cluster-fucks surrounded by ever-widening rings of circle-jerks. Welcome to the Monkey House!
So about seven hundred years ago (give or take 680 years) I’m at this event at Poets House back when it was on Prince Street or Spring Street or wherever the hell it was. I’d been writing for awhile but was all new at this “poetry scene” business. I’m trying to see what it’s all about socially, who these poetry people are. So I went to this meet and greet thing.
Now listen, I’m all types of white. Not only that, I’ve got me a weenie and a set of beans in a bag, so as all you women and darker menfolk will instantly understand, I’ve got it fuckin made, right? Always have. That’s really all it takes to make it in this world. Maybe that’s why the all-white woman staff at Poetry House would not speak to me. Seriously, it was like, “HI I’m –” held out my hand, got sneered at, ignored, walked away from.
Meet and great? Open house? Welcome to our community? Bullshit. A circle-jerk from the get-go. A re-meet and suck up to the people who are supposedly important in the “community.” A show for the contributors that they were going through the motions that’d keep them a viable institution to suck up some govermental and private institution grants. Or whatever, Who knows?
But hey, I’m also all types of working class, okay, which makes me less “white” than a lot of you other white mammajammas and even less “white” than some of you black folk– believe it or not. I went to grad school nights at Queens College (Harvard of the Proletariat, ha-ha) while driving around in a van with my Salvadoran illegal immigrant friends by day cleaning offices and firehouses and so forth to pay my way. So I’m a piece of shit in a lot of people’s eyes. White trash. And I always will be.That’ll never change.
Anyhow, as I said, I get completely blown off by the fancy fuckin ladies running the show, and participating in the show, never mind the apparently important white men walking in they seemed intent on impressing. Okay, welcome to the wonderful world of rich people and their arts and their minions running their cute little institutions. You gotta suck up and make the scene and make yourself known, right? Never mind you may be some fuckin crazy, brilliant, dirty little ragamuffin genius of a 20th century Rimbaud. The little white (and some, increaslingly, not so white) ladies of institutional poetry and the little white (and some, increasingly, not so white) men who support those institutions won’t give a fuck unless you’re getting their attention through the proper institutions.
But here’s the part that counts as to above discussion: I get onto the elevator to get the fuck out of there and I’m thinking “what a bunch of self-satisfied, smug assholes.” Before the doors close another guy I spoke to, the only one there I’d had anything like a real conversation with, got onto the elevator. He was the only black guy there and he looked pissed, insulted and turned off way more even than I was. We rode the two or three flights down in silence. Just before the doors opened he drilled my eyes with his gaze. “Racists!” he shouted. He marched out.
Did he experience racism or merely the same classism that i did? I didn’t experience racism, right? That’d be impossible. I was the same “race” (white? is that a race? Are Hutus who discriminate against Bantus not “racist” because they’ve got the same melanin count, live on the same continent?) disgusted enough anyhow. I experienced classism, probably. I experienced a whole big bucketful of “who the fuck are you?” from these rather entitled white women who probably felt themselves the victims of sexism for being the ones who merely got to run the ‘house of poets’ while white men were getting the gigs parading around as the big fat, fancy important poet.
The literary world is a series of closely guarded cluster-fucks surrounded by ever-widening rings of circle-jerks. Welcome to the Monkey House!
I was directed to this article and thread by a horrified friend. I was not at AWP, so I apologize if my understanding of your experience of the event is inaccurate.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but Roxane, but the primary point of this article seems to be the issue of segregation in the writing community, segregation of all peoples, rather than your own oppression as a black woman (although you also make it clear that this was present).
Phm, I think that perhaps you are a touch reactionary in your responses. I make the assumption (,and I apologize if this is incorrect,) that you see Roxane’s comments as a personal attack. This would explain your defensiveness.
It seems that Roxane alludes to the feeling that AWP is not necessarily ‘American’ in the experiences of race and gender that it validates as the totality of American writer’s experience so much as it is the experience of white, male writers in America. That a black man at AWP is more likely a service worker than writer is offered as evidence of this. The difference between AWP and writing events for women, African Americans, immigrant, queer, or indigenous authors and publishers is that AWP makes its claim on the term ‘American’: It claims a unity and authority over ‘The American Experience.’ In this, the American experience becomes one that is white and male. Those that attend AWP who are not white and male seem to feel that their experiences of non-white maleness are rendered invisible by this apparently latent, though certainly marginalizing definition of a unified experience by white men of the United States. AWP does not realize that it is one of many segregated events, white men one of many segregated groups, or that asking non-white males to attend asks in a sense that they forget their understanding of the world as non-white males, even as this act constantly reminds others of their ‘otherness’ and quietly pushes them to the fringes.
We all are each made of entirely individual yet often concurrent and complimentary experiences. I find that at times most people seek the company of ‘our own,’ culturally, sexually, geographically, or ideologically speaking. Maybe I want to to talk to someone who knows culturally that when I laugh it means I’m nervous. Maybe he wants to talk to someone who knows what it is like to experience racism or homophobia. Maybe she needs someone who understands sexual harassment or attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder. This morning I was at a conference at the University of Toronto, the topic of which was anti-psychiatry and psychiatric survivors. Some people need to be around other people who have had fifteen years of their life stolen by forced thorazine injections and electroshock. Common experiences of any kind build understanding of each others’ language, not in the strict sense of language but in the language of experience. They define words in a similar fashion. They ‘understand’ each other because they have ‘been there.’ Conversely, I know others who hate identifying with ‘their’ culture, gender, or something that they are a part of, as it assumes that they feel allegiance to a group and agree with its discourse.
White men should be no different in this desire to seek common understanding of experiences, but we should know that when we descend on a common space that it is a white male space, filled with the similar and differentiated experiences of being white males. We should understand how our various cultural lines, our sex and skin tones have effected the world through time, and how we know have to live day-to-day with varying levels of success based on our white maleness.
We should probably not reference our ‘white-talking black friends’ in a way that shows that we have not reflected very much about our own place(s) in society. We might also ask said friend whether he ever feels oppressed or just plain hurt by the fact that we seem to consider him quasi-white and don’t seem to consider his experiences of society as a black man (among other things including a ‘white-talker,’ whatever phm means by this). We also might want to ask this friend whether our assumption that because he white-talks that we understand him denies him part of his own identity, and how he feels about being dubbed a white-talker and being befriended on the basis that he is thought by white people to be quasi-white. I don’t mean that you should ‘black-talk.’ But there is a conversation to be had on how you both experience the world, in similar and different ways, and why this is. Phm, I might be wrong in this respect, but if I am I suggest that you should think about how you present your arguments. They seem to present YOUR understanding of society.
The question of which person in this thread or their friend ‘knows’ poverty the best is completely counterproductive. We all know our own experience of poverty and have learned about others’ experiences. There is no need to conglomerate these experiences in order to combat another’s experience. Look around you. We’re all in poor shape right now. There is no need to defend ourselves from experiences that seem to alienate when we could be asking questions and attempting to understand these experiences and add them to our own. It makes the world more complicated. That’s a good thing.
The oppression and inequality existing in society at large permeates all social spheres, be they writers like many in this thread, musicians, critical social theorists, students (like myself), economists, prison guards, and jellybean salespeople. In this sense, I think that it is a very valuable question (rather than a complaint, phm,) as to how writers might work outside of the ‘writing community’ to address fundamental inequities including but not limited to gender, race, and poverty. These occur long before someone signs in at AWP. In one sense, easy yet helpful fixes might be things like bursaries for individuals understood to be marginalized by their ethnicity, gender, or class. Sessions might be created at AWP which encourage the sharing of experiences between individuals who exist in different social locations effected by their culture, class, or otherwise. But there are definitely questions that one can not pose in an online article or response to that article. Social inequities are built into our government(s), schools – even our grocery stores. I think that the larger questions to ask are first how can writers of various experiences can enrich each others’ understanding of the many ways of seeing the world and build a dynamic and evolving understanding of society. Second and of more importance might be how writers might work outside their artistic community to change those institutions that are at play in our lives every moment and which lead to pale-faced sausage parties speaking for everyone else.
I was directed to this article and thread by a horrified friend. I was not at AWP, so I apologize if my understanding of your experience of the event is inaccurate.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but Roxane, but the primary point of this article seems to be the issue of segregation in the writing community, segregation of all peoples, rather than your own oppression as a black woman (although you also make it clear that this was present).
Phm, I think that perhaps you are a touch reactionary in your responses. I make the assumption (,and I apologize if this is incorrect,) that you see Roxane’s comments as a personal attack. This would explain your defensiveness.
It seems that Roxane alludes to the feeling that AWP is not necessarily ‘American’ in the experiences of race and gender that it validates as the totality of American writer’s experience so much as it is the experience of white, male writers in America. That a black man at AWP is more likely a service worker than writer is offered as evidence of this. The difference between AWP and writing events for women, African Americans, immigrant, queer, or indigenous authors and publishers is that AWP makes its claim on the term ‘American’: It claims a unity and authority over ‘The American Experience.’ In this, the American experience becomes one that is white and male. Those that attend AWP who are not white and male seem to feel that their experiences of non-white maleness are rendered invisible by this apparently latent, though certainly marginalizing definition of a unified experience by white men of the United States. AWP does not realize that it is one of many segregated events, white men one of many segregated groups, or that asking non-white males to attend asks in a sense that they forget their understanding of the world as non-white males, even as this act constantly reminds others of their ‘otherness’ and quietly pushes them to the fringes.
We all are each made of entirely individual yet often concurrent and complimentary experiences. I find that at times most people seek the company of ‘our own,’ culturally, sexually, geographically, or ideologically speaking. Maybe I want to to talk to someone who knows culturally that when I laugh it means I’m nervous. Maybe he wants to talk to someone who knows what it is like to experience racism or homophobia. Maybe she needs someone who understands sexual harassment or attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder. This morning I was at a conference at the University of Toronto, the topic of which was anti-psychiatry and psychiatric survivors. Some people need to be around other people who have had fifteen years of their life stolen by forced thorazine injections and electroshock. Common experiences of any kind build understanding of each others’ language, not in the strict sense of language but in the language of experience. They define words in a similar fashion. They ‘understand’ each other because they have ‘been there.’ Conversely, I know others who hate identifying with ‘their’ culture, gender, or something that they are a part of, as it assumes that they feel allegiance to a group and agree with its discourse.
White men should be no different in this desire to seek common understanding of experiences, but we should know that when we descend on a common space that it is a white male space, filled with the similar and differentiated experiences of being white males. We should understand how our various cultural lines, our sex and skin tones have effected the world through time, and how we know have to live day-to-day with varying levels of success based on our white maleness.
We should probably not reference our ‘white-talking black friends’ in a way that shows that we have not reflected very much about our own place(s) in society. We might also ask said friend whether he ever feels oppressed or just plain hurt by the fact that we seem to consider him quasi-white and don’t seem to consider his experiences of society as a black man (among other things including a ‘white-talker,’ whatever phm means by this). We also might want to ask this friend whether our assumption that because he white-talks that we understand him denies him part of his own identity, and how he feels about being dubbed a white-talker and being befriended on the basis that he is thought by white people to be quasi-white. I don’t mean that you should ‘black-talk.’ But there is a conversation to be had on how you both experience the world, in similar and different ways, and why this is. Phm, I might be wrong in this respect, but if I am I suggest that you should think about how you present your arguments. They seem to present YOUR understanding of society.
The question of which person in this thread or their friend ‘knows’ poverty the best is completely counterproductive. We all know our own experience of poverty and have learned about others’ experiences. There is no need to conglomerate these experiences in order to combat another’s experience. Look around you. We’re all in poor shape right now. There is no need to defend ourselves from experiences that seem to alienate when we could be asking questions and attempting to understand these experiences and add them to our own. It makes the world more complicated. That’s a good thing.
The oppression and inequality existing in society at large permeates all social spheres, be they writers like many in this thread, musicians, critical social theorists, students (like myself), economists, prison guards, and jellybean salespeople. In this sense, I think that it is a very valuable question (rather than a complaint, phm,) as to how writers might work outside of the ‘writing community’ to address fundamental inequities including but not limited to gender, race, and poverty. These occur long before someone signs in at AWP. In one sense, easy yet helpful fixes might be things like bursaries for individuals understood to be marginalized by their ethnicity, gender, or class. Sessions might be created at AWP which encourage the sharing of experiences between individuals who exist in different social locations effected by their culture, class, or otherwise. But there are definitely questions that one can not pose in an online article or response to that article. Social inequities are built into our government(s), schools – even our grocery stores. I think that the larger questions to ask are first how can writers of various experiences can enrich each others’ understanding of the many ways of seeing the world and build a dynamic and evolving understanding of society. Second and of more importance might be how writers might work outside their artistic community to change those institutions that are at play in our lives every moment and which lead to pale-faced sausage parties speaking for everyone else.