This is going to be a challenging post for me to write, because it involves a very uncomfortable experience I had at the Nebula Awards Weekend - in fact, the only seriously uncomfortable experience I had in my whole wonderful time there. That discomfort, and the fact that I was going almost immediately to head out to WisCon, is why I did not address it in the report I wrote immediately thereafter.
I was invited to participate in the afternoon panel called "Writing About Other Cultures." I was totally jazzed and immediately accepted the invitation, since writing about other cultures has been a major focus of my work for many years. This was the first time I had ever been invited to participate on a panel at the Nebulas and thus it was very exciting for me. I recognized many of the names on the panel, but in my excitement and preparations I did not notice the problem that was immediately brought up once all of the panel members appeared together at the same table. Thanks to Sunil Patel for this photo, which shows me laughing through discomfort.
As you can see, all the panel members were white. This is a problem - one that the program organizers clearly didn't notice when they were just working with a list of written names beforehand - and we all noticed it immediately (which I suppose is better than not noticing it, but really can't fix anything).
When I think back on it, I can't help but remember Henry Lien's fantastic post-Nebula-banquet idea of holding the Alternate Universe Nebula acceptance speeches, where the other nominated candidates got to deliver their speeches as if we were occupying another reality-line where their work had been chosen as the best. When I think about the panel on Writing About Other Cultures, I can't help but notice junctions where maybe things could have gone differently.
What if I'd had the wherewithal to notice the lack of diversity on the panel when I saw the names, and mention it to the organizers? I have no doubt the situation would immediately have changed.
What if we had simply called on some of the diverse writers in our audience to bring their chairs and join us at the head table? I can't imagine they would have said "no." I remember having this particular idea the moment the topic came up at the start of the panel, but I didn't say anything. I should have, maybe, but I didn't know how. I wasn't the moderator. I was still feeling that I was just lucky to have been included and asking myself in dismay if I shouldn't be there at all, whether I should have given up my place so that someone else could have been included.
Of course, we panel members readily acknowledged that we were a non-diverse group and that this was a problem. This was another possible point of divergence from what followed, which somehow turned into a round of people giving excuses for why they belonged on the panel, that we weren't all from precisely the same culture (which would have been true anyway even if the panel were only two next-door neighbors). What if, instead of excuses, we had just expressed acknowledgment of the problem and then re-framed the discussion as one of, say, "Writing About Other Cultures" respectfully as members of our own shared culture? Why did it have to take us so long to get to the real subject at hand?
In online discussions, and at conventions, we talk a lot about calling others out when we don't agree with their views. I was even on a panel about "Call-out Culture" at WisCon. Maybe it's not just about calling out, but at least engaging people in discussion and argument when we don't feel comfortable with the way they have been framing their arguments. But even within "one culture" this is difficult to do because of power dynamics and respect. When I think back, I can identify two possible alternate universes. In one, I might have "called out" a certain author for her characterization of the current political climate in science fiction as requiring writers to portray non-white characters always in a positive light (a statement she made with great authority which had me going, what? what? in my head). In another, I might have questioned panel members who appeared to have accepted one of the presuppositions behind that statement - that a large audience exists that demands diverse characters always to be portrayed as "good" - and urged them to leave off talking about how important it is to stay true to one's own vision of a story, but instead to talk about the larger context of representation in fiction and how our visions articulate with that.
The problem is, I don't see those actions as having a good outcome.
But what do I mean by not having a good outcome? It should be good to "call out" and make change!
In this case, I mean several things. First of all, a live panel discussion at the Nebulas weekend is time-constrained, and verbal, which means it doesn't operate at all like a discussion online. Second, if I had chosen to "call out," I would have been disrespecting our moderator as well as the author who made the statement. Most importantly in my view, I would have been disrespecting the entire point of our panel, which was not to stage an argument about representation and diversity on our own panel (which was moot at that point anyway), or to argue about how to characterize the demands of science fiction audiences (which would be an important thing to talk about but wasn't our given topic), but to talk about how to write about other cultures respectfully. Which, by the way, does not involve always portraying characters from other cultures as "good," but as people, real people with motivations that make sense and with whom the audience is expected to relate on some level. We don't only love our heroes! Once an author commits to populating a world with diverse characters beyond a single token representative, she or he will end up with the opportunity to create diverse characters whose stances are unique and individual. In any case, during the panel my solution was to try, whenever I spoke, to express a more nuanced position, to mitigate, basically to nudge the flow of the talk until we got around to what we were actually supposed to talk about.
Thank goodness, we did manage to get around to talking about that, and some of what we spoke about was probably valuable for our listeners. Perhaps, in another universe where every panel at an event like the Nebulas was culturally diverse and our panel was an unfortunate, coincidental exception, the diversity problem of our demographics could have been set aside and we could simply have talked about writing about other cultures in fiction. Unfortunately, in our universe, the way we got started cast a long shadow. During questions, one of the panelists actually drew attention to the fact that one of the questioners was non-white, and thereby put a lot of undue pressure on a poor fellow who was simply trying to engage in the panel discussion. The way the panelist's comment was phrased, I could tell that the comment about his background was intended to indicate that we were (still) recognizing our demographic inadequacy and trying to reach out. However, the end result was that he was singled out for his nonwhite identity. And that was totally inappropriate.
As I look back over what I've written here I still feel like I should have done more. I feel like I should have noticed the problem in the initial list, like I should have invited someone to come and sit next to me. The fact is, I failed people in that audience just by being there, sitting at that table, aligned as a participant in that discussion. Thank goodness I wasn't entirely cowed by my illustrious company; thank goodness I wasn't entirely silent. But it still wasn't good enough. That's why I feel it was important for me to write this post. Because there were a good many junctions where the outcome could have changed, even just through a different kind of engagement in the points my fellow panelists raised, to create a more supportive environment for the people in the audience.
So what can I do in the future? I'm going to continue to participate when I can, but try to be more aware of representation issues on the panels where I appear. I'll be braver, I hope. I remain convinced that there was no need for a big fight at that table, but that we could have changed the audience's experience meaningfully with just a few small changes in what we said and did.
I want to make the choices that will help take us toward a better universe.
Many thanks go to Sunil Patel for refocusing my attention on getting this post written after a hectic week, and to N.K. Jemisin for reminding me how important it is to continue to take action.
#SFWApro
I avoid conflict myself, so I'm afraid I wouldn't have done anything different. I get where you're coming from. I do have a strategy comment.
ReplyDelete" I might have questioned panel members who appeared to have accepted one of the presuppositions behind that statement "
As an audience member, I expect panel members to question one another; that's what makes panels fun. If somebody says "All space operas suck", I expect another panelist to argue. That isn't disrespect to the panel/moderator, that's what panels are *for*.
So challenging the idea would have been well within normal behavior. "I haven't noticed that readers object to X as villains; what about book Y?" doesn't lead to a fight about whether or not the panelist is right; it leads to a fight (if at all) about the panelist's crazy idea.
I hear you on that, and I don't disagree. No way to go back to the past at this point but I can keep this in mind to bolster my confidence in future situations.
DeleteJuliette, I want to encourage you and other people in this position to challenge other panelists (in a reasonable tone, of course) who express ideas you disagree with, and to challenge programming when you notice that you are on a panel that deals with issues of "race" or culture, but no people from that culture are on the panel. I also want to see more than one POC on such a panel. Maybe just a token white writer.
ReplyDeleteSince programming is often a complex issue involving hundreds of panelists, it is sometimes necessary to get creative if programming resists changing the lineup. I was once told I *could not* add a black panelist to a panel on cultural appropriation(!!!), so I told this to the audience, and Nisi Shawl participated from a front-row seat.
I like the fact that Nancy Kress pointed out that there were no POC on the panel. It would have been appropriate to ask for volunteers from the audience, but it looks as though there were already seven people on the panel, so that kind of intervention would have been possible only if the intervener offered to yield their seat to a POC. That would have made a dramatic statement of solidarity, however. (I am not criticizing you, Juliette, for not doing that -- it's the sort of I-should-have thought that occurs afterwards. I will keep it in mind as an option for myself.)
Eileen, thank you for your comment. I appreciate the encouragement. I think I will also keep in mind the cede-my-seat option for the future.
DeleteJuliette, I appreciate your sensible response, and I agree with most of what you say. However, I was never clear that this WAS a panel about "writing other contemporary cultures", so I'm not certain that I really needed to offer my chair to someone, unless he was a dimensional traveler or a member of a pre-industrial society that uses magic.
ReplyDeleteThat said, I do not mind the questions being asked about inclusivity, and the repeated restatement that a group of white writers might be the best people to discuss non-white lives. But I thought we were being asked to participate as writers who both invent and try to represent other cultures, and so I'm getting a bit irritated (elsewhere) by being told that my participation in this panel (for which I had to pay for a Nebula membership, because I wouldn't have been there otherwise) is evidence of "the problem".
Anyway, it was very nice to meet you, and I appreciated what you had to say, both on the panel and here.
Oh, and I originally wrote "unless SHE was a dimensional traveler...", but apparently was autocorrected somehow to "he". The best laid plans of mice and humanoids...
DeleteSecondly, the above is from me, Tad Williams. Not trying to hide my identity, just bamboozled by all the Google accounts my daughter has set up.
Crap, and I also thought I wrote, "that a group of white writers might NOT be the best..." I'm not loving the internet today.
DeleteTad, thanks for your comment. As in any panel of this sort, the question of other cultures is engaged with on two levels: the fiction level, and the reality level. That does tend to make the issue more complicated. And yet, dealing with time travelers and aliens is much more familiar territory for the audience, and thus in my mind is not really "dealing with other cultures" in the most relevant way. New developments are happening in the area of dealing with other Earthly cultures and the elements we take from them to inspire our work (contemporary or not). That was why I was particularly glad that we did get to talk about those issues during the panel. I remain convinced that despite our demographics there could have been ways to make the panel discussion less defensive-sounding and create a more hospitable environment for audience members. That's why I'm doing some thinking about how to handle it if a situation like this arises in the future.
Delete"but to talk about how to write about other cultures respectfully. Which, by the way, does not involve always portraying characters from other cultures as "good," but as people, real people with motivations that make sense and with whom the audience is expected to relate on some level" Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don't think we get this yet. =)
ReplyDeleteYou're absolutely welcome, E. Arroyo. Thanks for your comment.
DeleteAs one of the people in the audience trying to ask tough questions, it *was* very uncomfortable to have an all-white panel discussing diversity. But at the same time, Juliette, don't kick yourself too hard. The description of the panel said it was about writing other cultures, real and imagined. The parts of the panel that were about the latter were truly first-rate, and I'm thrilled I attended it. What I wish is that this panel had focused on worldbuilding, and that the diversity discussion had been left out of it.
ReplyDeleteIt's worth noting that the diversity panel the next day had the opposite problem, in that it was reportedly originally titled something to the effect of "What white writers can do about diversity" until a panelist objected and pointed out that it was highly inappropriate for a bunch of minority writers to sit up there lecturing the white writers about what they should be writing. It's hard to have an honest discussion about diversity *without* it becoming uncomfortable. Diversity is a touchy subject, and that's OK.
I do understand how the con organizers missed that they'd put together an all-white diversity panel, and I know them well enough to be certain that they also feel terrible for having missed it. Ironically, it's those who accept the need for diversity most innately who are most likely to make the mistake, because they don't instinctively see significant differences between whites and non-whites, and, let's be honest, if you pull five names out of a hat containing the list of all the members of SFWA, statistically, you're probably going to end up with the names of five white people. Getting diversity onto that panel (and, for that matter, getting some of those "diversity" names onto panels that aren't about diversity) would have required a conscious effort, and the failure was in not realizing that effort was required as opposed to just seating five authors who've all done a great job writing the other. I'm hopeful that in the future SFWA will do better. As for this year, we can't fix it, and I appreciate the fact that the panel was at least aware enough to acknowledge the problem. (And, I'll say in defense of a certain well-known writer who made some other unfortunate statements, she was the first one to point out the problem.)
So, to make a long comment short (too late), I appreciate what you did, and what you tried to do.
All this is said, of course, from the perspective of someone who enjoys a fair amount of dominant-culture privilege, and it should not be construed as dismissing or belittling the feelings of those in the room who were uncomfortable, or those who were not in the room who feel that SFWA could have and should have caught and corrected the problem before the panel entered the room.
Thanks for your comment, Kyle. Much appreciated.
DeleteAs long as SFF fans talk about the alleged intrinsic welcoming nature of SFF as "don't care if you're white or black or green with purple polka dots", there's no bright and shining line between Other Contemporary Cultures and Fantastic ones...and for a long, long time, FOC have handwaved our exclusion from SFF works by identifying with the aliens, and aliens have been used as metaphorical stand-ins for POC.
ReplyDeleteThe idea that it was okay because it wasn't because of "Contemporary Cultures" is yet another jab in the gut. No thanks.
Yes. So the title of the panel included "real or imagined" and as I understand it, that does cover contemporary cultures. So I don't really see that as much of an objection. I know many of the panelists were dismayed at the direction the discussion took. I personally feel uncomfortable listing human ethnicities with real identities, culture and history alongside hypothetical aliens that have no such grounding and are only products of the imagination. I think working with aliens is a great way to examine how we deal with Others, but it certainly cannot substitute for portraying human diversity (which is part of why I try to have diverse human characters as well as non-homogeneous alien cultures in my own work). Thank you for your comment.
DeleteThe idea that writing the stories of other contemporary cultures is closely analogous to writing the stories of an imagined culture is one of the most toxic tropes extant in current SFF culture.
DeleteIt's easy to self-congratulate or self-rationalize when the aliens aren't around to tell you that you got it wrong. Sometimes I wonder if that's the problem some people are having...that those of us who were supposed to be seen and not heard are taking the stage.
I think if I were asked independently to assess the conflation of contemporary and imagined cultures, I'd probably choose the word "insidious." It's deceptively easy to conflate them if all we do is use the word Other; ideally in a panel named as ours was, we would have had a chance to talk about how important that distinction really is. It's possible, as I see it, to execute good aliens (ones that don't exist) with an appropriate awareness of contemporary world cultures and their grounding, but yes, it certainly is possible to do so without that awareness. As far as the issue of people telling you that you've got it wrong, I think that speaking up is absolutely vital. At the same time I think that the people who don't want to be publicly called on problems in their work could easily solve that problem by asking for feedback in the earlier stages before the work becomes public. As critique and revision, authors accept criticism all the time. So I hope this kind of cultural concern for grounding and respect starts getting built into the process for more people. (I believe it already is for many.)
DeleteThanks for this, Juliette. It's so hard to deal with a situation like this in the moment. I appreciate your efforts in thinking about it.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I'd like to add is that volunteering your seat to an audience member of color, or inviting such a person to join the panel, doesn't seem like such a great idea to me. Think of the audience member who asked a question and had attention drawn to his race--that kind of spotlight is uncomfortable to say the least.
A better idea might be to simply trim down the amount of time the panelists speak, and open up for questions earlier. Much earlier. That way, the whole room would have more of a chance to participate, without any one person being singled out. In fact, in my own Alternate Universe version, the panelists would get up & take seats in the audience, & everybody would kind of turn their chairs, and it would become a giant round table discussion! A bit harder for the moderator to manage, yes, but I think the ensuing conversation would be worth it.
Thanks again.
Thanks for that suggestion, Sofia. It's an excellent point. My own goal is to try to be attentive to these things before I actually end up walking into the room. It's having to address these problems when you are already in front of a large audience that is most problematic in terms of making people feel singled out. I appreciate your comment.
DeleteGood point, Sophia. Adding random people to a panel in medias res is probably not the best solution. I have (as moderator) done this successfully when I knew the person, they were interested in joining the panel, and it was clear they offered a needed perspective. In the case I mentioned above, however, I worked it out with Nisi in advance.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this posting, Juliette. As an audience member, I thought once the discussion turned to world-building --and you helped turn it in that direction -- it got useful for me.
ReplyDeleteI think there are some good lessons for the event planners for future years about how they title panels, and who they invite. And I do think that dominant-culture writers now write in a world where their "invented" characters from real cultures can be critiqued by people from that culture. (Does that make sense?) This is only good, because it forces us all to do our research and write better characters, but it's probably painful.
Thanks for your comment, Marion. I'm glad you found some of our discussion helpful. I largely agree with you about future directions.
Delete