Fighting For Justice: Biddy Mason Speaks Up

Today we welcome Guest Blogger Sarah Jo Zaharako in our second of three posts spotlighting the “Fighting for Justice” series from Heyday Books. The first post was a review of Fred Korematsu Speaks Up.  

Fighting for Justice: Biddy Mason Speak Up

By Arisa White and Laura Atkins
Illustrated by Laura Freeman
ISBN: 9781597144032
Click here to purchase.

In 1866, Biddy Mason bought a parcel of land on the outskirts of Los Angeles. The purchase provided a legacy for her family and helped Mason become one of the wealthiest people in Los Angeles. She was 48 years old, a midwife and herbalist; a single mother; a formerly enslaved person and a survivor of rape. Mason helped shape the Black community in Los Angeles through philanthropy and community organization. Her story, like so many millions of untold stories, fills a gaping hole in how the American historical narrative is transmitted to young people.

Through a smorgasbord of documentation, White and Atkins demonstrate the depth of evidence needed to fully understand the impact of slavery and racism both in a historical context and in modern day society. Painful and violent concepts like enslavement, profiteering, and rape are respectfully approached with age-appropriate clarity, which will prompt meaningful discussion. 

Chapter three provides an honest look at slavery and genealogy, a topic integral to Mason’s story. The inset explains that slavery was matrilineal, meaning that if a mother was enslaved, her child was enslaved. “Enslaved women could sometimes partner and have children with enslaved men. Masters could also rape enslaved women. Enslaved people did not have a choice about how their bodies were used, since they were seen as property” (p. 21). A supplemental text box defines rape as “When one person forces a sexual act on another person who does not want it or who is unable to give consent” (p. 21). Direct explanations like these encourage questions and link the atrocities of the past with current campaigns for equality and justice. The Fighting for Justice books explain to children why things aren’t fair. They also uplift and empower, proving through their protagonists that ordinary people can speak up.

Among many defining attributes, the Fighting for Justice series (Fred Korematsu Speaks Up, 2017) forges a connection between history and present day society. Biddy Mason Speaks Up invites readers to confront White supremacy, and to explore equality and injustice together in a meaningful way. A supplemental section titled “Healing Your Community: From Biddy’s Day to Ours” explores modern day activists and organizations including Black Lives Matter. Here, an inset introduces the work of modern-day abolitionist Regina Evans and describes the prevalent but not widely recognized practice of human trafficking. This reference demolishes the idea that slavery is neatly contained in a single ugly chapter of American history.

Throughout the book, readers are encouraged to apply the concepts in each chapter to their own experience through thoughtful prompts like, “What are the barriers that keep you from speaking up?” Such questions promote reflection, a critical practice for mindful readers and thinkers.  When learning is personal, so is it memorable.

The focus on Biddy Mason as the protagonist further sets the book apart from the myriad historical texts for middle-grade readers. Publishers have traditionally delegated the portrayal of slavery in America to a relatively small cast of historical figures like Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass. In doing so, slavery’s repercussions are given limited scope in the literary world. Mason’s story suggests that she is but one of millions whose experience has been omitted, if not erased, from the American narrative. I found myself asking the question, “Why have I not heard this story?” and contemplating how many more stories I have been denied by a traditional American education.

Biddy Mason Speaks Up invites young readers to join a conversation, to reflect, and to make connections. It is powerful in its intimacy and memorable for its honesty. Most of all, the book empowers. The Fighting for Justice series lays a foundation of knowledge and provides the questions that will fuel the change makers of tomorrow. Biddy Mason is intriguing, direct, and impossible to put down.

Guest Reviewer Sarah Jo Zaharako works with children in public and school libraries in the San Francisco Bay Area. She is a musician and mother and will soon complete her MLIS at San Jose State University.

Ellen Oh Answers Your Questions

Ellen Oh is co-founder, President, and CEO of We Need Diverse Books (WNDB), a non-profit organization dedicated to increasing diversity in children’s literature. She is also a former adjunct college instructor and corporate/entertainment attorney. She is the author of the YA fantasy trilogy The Prophecy Series and the MG novel Spirit Hunters: Book 1. Spirit Hunters: Book 2 will be published Summer 2018.

The following is a modified and supplemented version of several Facebook posts Ellen wrote last week.


I am going to be blunt. I am asking you not to get offended with what I have to say but to listen with an open mind and don't take anything personally. This is not personal to any one individual; it concerns the larger community.

When We Need Diverse Books launched, I received heinous death threats and rape threats on such a continuous basis I had to shut down all social media for awhile. At one point, I deleted my Twitter entirely and only came back because of the #whitewashedout movement. I still get accused of promoting White genocide and I have been called the c-word so often it doesn't even faze me anymore (and it used to make me livid). I've had emails from people who clearly knew where I lived and made comments about my children; I had to skip ComicCon due to specific threats that made me very uncomfortable. And all of this, for something I do on a voluntary and uncompensated basis.

And yet, here I am 4 years later still trying hard to teach people that diverse books are not a threat to anyone, but rather, that they make for a better world. So. Let’s talk about fear, confusion, and scarce opportunities that White writers have been complaining about. Let’s talk about how White writers are afraid of asking questions for fear of being labeled bad or racist.

Asking questions is part of the growing process. Being afraid to look bad, or racist, because you asked a question--this doesn't even make sense to me. Just ask me, or any of us who have shown a willingness to discuss this issue. Yes, we are tired of constantly talking about the same thing, but we would much rather answer questions than deal with misrepresentations and hostility. And, so what if your question makes you feel bad, or you are embarrassed? If those uncomfortable feelings are the extent of the problem, who cares? People ask me questions all the time. I have never threatened them with death, rape, or attacked their children for existing. But threats have become a part of my life solely because I advocate for diversity in children's literature. So to me, your uncomfortable feelings stem from a place of privilege that I and other IPOC have never had the experience of, and will not experience, in our lifetime. And I know that it offends people when we point this out. But I would much rather be offended than deal with threats of violence.

Let’s talk about the heart of the question. Do we want people to write diversely? Yes. We do. When you write your White main character stories, you should people those stories with lots of diversity that reflects the world around us. And that should be par for the course. Next question, should you write a main character who is an IPOC? The answer is: It depends. Will your story use a White lens to tell the story? Then NO. Will your story have a White savior theme to it? Then NO. Will your story exploit the pain of a marginalized culture to get you a paid writing gig? Then NO. Would your story be better told by a person writing from that marginalized community instead? All of these points are based on racism, colonialism, and the White lens and how it shapes the telling of IPOC stories. That's why when you do research to write your story, part of your research is to explore these very points to see if you even should tell the story. There are plenty of great writers who can write outside their lanes brilliantly. They don't ask these types of questions publicly, because they ALREADY know these issues, have already figured out if they can do the best job writing these stories, and then they just do it. And you know what? Sometimes even they will still get it wrong. But the difference is, they listen, they learn, and they do better.

I have never ever said that White writers should never write about IPOC. And in fact in every talk, every event, every workshop I have ever given I always repeat the same advice to writers who want to write a story about IPOC:
1. Do you need to tell this story?
2. If you really feel you need to tell this story, then get it right!
3. And be prepared for criticism if you don't.

It is amazing to me that I'm so often attacked as some kind of militant diversity police officer stopping White writers from writing about IPOC. Here's the blogpost that gets me in trouble all the time. I wrote it back when We Need Diverse Books first started, in response to a pattern of White writers calling diversity a "hot trend". They were trying to leverage the sudden interest in diversity to help themselves get published. This problem continues today. The CCBC's data doesn’t lie: There’s been an increase in IPOC books published, but they are mostly by White writers. That was the main point of my blogpost, which is from February 2016. The last paragraph of my post is a paragraph of Don'ts pointing out how not to use diversity to get published. For all those who seem to think this post was telling White people not to ever write about IPOC, try reading it again. And you will see that for every don't, there is a do.

Listen, I know criticism can hurt. My first book received reviews that said it read like a "bad translation of a Shlocky Chinese book". Reviewers also said, “don't read Prophecy for good Asian Fantasy, read Eon or Stormdancer or Across the Nightingale Floor” etc.--all books by White writers. Some bloggers trashed my book so badly that I actually received emails from several bloggers telling me that although they liked my book, they were afraid to say so publicly for fear of being mocked by these more influential bloggers. This broke my heart but it didn't stop me from writing. Receiving criticism--sometimes harsh--is not unique to White writers, but feeling entitled to no criticism--particularly criticism along racial lines--is unique to White writers.

People get so mad at Debbie Reese for criticizing bad Native American representation. They say she is tearing down people who are allies. Why does it matter if they are an ally if they made a mistake? If I messed up, I would thank Debbie for tearing me a new one and teaching me to do better and in the process teaching everyone else. It hurts. Yes. But it isn't about you as the writer, it is about the kids reading the book. And DAMN IT in a world where a major football franchise refuses to give up its racist name, and public schools across the country won't recognize the racism of their mascots, we need Debbie to keep us accountable and to remind us of the pain of an entire community of people.

So yes, ask questions. There are people who will answer them for you, if you just ask. And please don't get offended if we get cranky or short or if we aren't as nice or as polite as you would like us to be. Remember you are not the first, nor will you be the last, to ask us.

-Allie Jane Bruce helped edit this post.

Rethinking Books about Police: Putting OPL's New Toolkit to Work

 

Amy Martin is the Children's Collection Management Librarian at the Oakland Public Library in California, and has worked as a children's librarian in Oakland, San Francisco, and Chicago. All views expressed are her own, and do not reflect those of her employer.

Let’s talk about police books for children.

When I worked as a branch children’s librarian in East Oakland, I had preschool teachers ask me for books on community helpers--firefighters, postal workers, teachers, police. I handed over the early nonfiction titles we had on police, even as something pinged in my brain telling me I wasn’t giving them the right information.

I am White and grew up in a middle class suburb, and with the exception of having been detained without cause during a protest, I have not experienced a threat to my safety or civil rights at the hands of police. I have a vivid image of the one time my family called police to our home in my childhood: we had come home and found a door slightly open, and an officer came to check the house for us. He arrived within minutes of our call and greeted us politely. After confirming that no one was in our house and nothing was missing, he left without incident.

The books about police in my library’s collection matched my experience. However, they did not match the experience of everyone in our community. For example, the patron who told me quite cheerfully one morning that she and her four children had been pulled from their beds by police in the early morning and made to kneel against a wall for hours while officers searched their building for a suspect. The books in my library did not match the experience of the children I met who’d had parents arrested, or stopped or searched without cause, or had loved ones brutalized.

It was after the murder of Philando Castile that it clicked for me: we were not seeing the experiences many people of color have with police in children’s books, and something was wrong with that. Are we doing children a disservice when every book we provide about police says they only protect, never harm, when it is possible to watch police officers harming unarmed people on video? Where is the book for the four-year-old daughter of Diamond Reynolds, Castile’s girlfriend, who was sitting behind him in the car while he was killed? Or the book for a child in need of reassurance after hearing about a police killing?

My colleagues at Oakland Public Library (OPL) and I began a conversation that month that eventually led to Evaluating Children’s Books about Police: a toolkit for librarians and other evaluators of children’s literature. Almost a year in the making, it grew from shared observations of working with children and talking with them about police. We took extensive notes on the books in our collections. We talked about what was missing. We reviewed our work with community members, activists, and an officer from the Oakland Police Department.

We developed the toolkit as a professional book evaluation tool. The guiding questions it offers can certainly be used to evaluate nonfiction “community helper” books, but they can also be used with picture books and fiction. As an example, I’ll use a book that, at first glance, may seem an unlikely suspect:  I’M AFRAID YOUR TEDDY IS IN TROUBLE TODAY, by Jancee Dunn, illustrated by Scott Nash.

The title page of TEDDY shows a lone police car in front of a house. The story opens with two police officers in front of the closed front door, addressing the reader directly. A brown-skinned officer with feminine features has arms crossed, while the white-skinned male-appearing partner stands with fists on hips. (The officers’ genders are never stated, so I will use the  singular “they” pronoun to refer to both.) Both wear angry expressions. “Oh good. You’re home,” the brown-skinned officer says, then introduces themself as “Officer Hardy,” who goes on to say  that the police station “received a number of calls,” and that they’re “afraid your teddy got in a little trouble today.”

On the following page, as they open the door, Officer Hardy warns the reader to “prepare yourself. It’s not a pretty scene.” Balloons and streamers are now visible both inside and outside the house. On the pages that follow, Officer Hardy details the (lighthearted) destruction that has been wrought on the reader’s home by their teddy bear, who invited other stuffed animals over for a wild party: pancakes and sprinkles everywhere, a broken bed, crayon drawings on the walls, and chocolate syrup in the bathtub. A page with four angry human faces shouting into phones states that “your neighbors” were “not happy. Not happy at all,” indicating that neighbors called the police with noise complaints when the stuffed animals started playing loud music and dancing.

Officer Hardy states that police pursued the fleeing stuffed animals, “searching house to house,” eventually catching them all with the help of the Fire Department. They then reveal all the stuffed animals confined in a closet.

Teddy is then singled out, with the next illustration showing Teddy standing alone between the two officers, both of whom look angry, rubbing his paws together with a worried facial expression. Officer Hardy points at Teddy as they ask him to “Come with me, please. I’m going to have to take you down to the station.” All three appear against a white background, removing them from the immediate setting of the story.

In three illustrations across the two following pages, Officer Hardy shrinks to a child’s size, their expression shifting from stern to delighted as they comment that “I used to have a teddy bear once. He looked a lot like you. Gosh, I haven’t thought about him in years.” On the following page, Officer Hardy bends down to Teddy’s level and places a hand on Teddy’s shoulder. Wearing a friendly expression, they inform Teddy that “this time I’m going to let you go.” The officers then assist all the other stuffed animals into their squad car, saying “I’ll drop you all off at home.” On the final page, Teddy smiles and winks underneath a gentle admonishment to “be good, now.” The lit cell phone in Teddy’s paw, along with his mischievous expression, hint that Teddy does not necessarily plan to heed this recommendation.

With that long summary complete, I’ll turn now to Evaluating Children’s Books about Police, and demonstrate some ways an evaluator of children’s books might use this tool to examine TEDDY.

The evaluative content of this toolkit is arranged in two sets of bullet points: “What could an inclusive perspective look like?” and “Questions to consider when evaluating a police book for bias.” In the first section, we imagined what elements--words, images, concepts--we didn’t necessarily find in the existing body of literature that might acknowledge young readers who feel discomfort or negativity around police officers. In the second section, we focused on problematic elements of existing books that seemed to pop up over and over again (I have a spreadsheet of occurrences of these problematic elements, if numbers are your thing). I’ll talk through the elements in each section that stand out to me in reading TEDDY.

• Does this book acknowledge the feelings of fear and anxiety children may have on seeing police? For example: "sometimes, if you see a police officer, you may feel scared."
• Does this book acknowledge that some people have negative experiences with police officers? If so, is there any discussion of how these experiences might impact a person, family, or community?

TEDDY is a picture book about stuffed animals coming to life and having a wild party. The emotional core of the story is in the tension that exists between smiling stuffed animals playing with balloons and sledding down couch cushions and stern, angry adult humans, primarily two uniformed police officers, dealing with the resulting mess; the resolution comes from those officers relenting and deciding not to pursue punishment for the toys. The overall tone of the narrative is tongue-in-cheek; the fun of Teddy’s party contrasts with the sharp law enforcement cadence Officer Hardy uses to describe it: “We don’t know for sure who thought of the chocolate sauce, but we suspect it was the cow.”

Have you seen those videos of police officers pulling over people of color who have not committed any traffic violation, then surprising them by handing them ice cream? This article in The Root by Preston Mitchum describes how these videos get shared on social networks as moments of joy, for the “fun” of seeing people’s fearful expressions turn to laughter and relief when they realize they are the subjects of a prank intended in lighthearted fun by its perpetrators. The police department of Halifax, Virginia executed the ice-cream stunt twenty times on a Friday in summer 2016 as a PR move, believing that videos of people of color laughing and accepting ice cream from a benevolent white officer would generate good feelings toward their department. Mitchum’s article points out that what looks like happiness on the part of the drivers is actually “That relief every time we interact with police officers because we never know if we will leave that interaction alive.” Ijeoma Oluo takes this one step further in The Establishment, likening the videos to an abusive partner hinting that they might hurt you, only to say it was a joke; the relief in this sudden revocation of a threat is meant to create loyalty in the victimized partner.

There is generally nothing amusing or cute about arriving at one’s home and seeing a police car parked outside, or uniformed and frowning officers blocking the resident from entering their home. The decision to open TEDDY with both of these images introduces the central problem with the book, similar to the problem with the ice cream videos: ice cream pull-overs are cute and happy to viewers who’ve never felt their lives were in danger during a traffic stop. The worst they’ve escaped is the minor annoyance of a traffic ticket, not the physical danger of being shot. TEDDY is meant to be funny and charming, but this book is only funny and charming if you do not believe there is any inherent danger in police being in your home.

Could a child who has had a frightening encounter with a police officer at home, or who’s heard about or been warned about such encounters by family or friends, enjoy this book? Could any person who has had a negative police encounter read this book and see it as funny? The lack of respect for readers who share these experiences amounts to a flat denial of “the feelings of and anxiety children may have on seeing police.”

• Do this book's illustrations show diversity in race, sex, age, gender expression, and religious identity among police, as well as people with whom they interact?

There are two officers in TEDDY. Officer Hardy, who delivers the entire text of the book, reads visually as African American. In my research leading to Evaluating, it was common for a children’s book about police to feature a person of color in a primary role. Creators of these books seem to have gotten the message that it’s racist to show only people of color as suspects and white people as police officers, and it’s actually rather difficult to find one that features only white officers. The Kirkus Review for TEDDY noted that “investigating officer Hardy is a black woman and her subordinate a white man, in an especially nice touch,” but I’d argue that it’s an expectation in a contemporary children’s book, if an unspoken one.

The illustrator seems to avoid questions about race in supporting characters because they are mostly stuffed animals. It’s worth noting, though, that the one human doll among the toys is white with blond hair, and Teddy himself is a light golden-tan in color. Regardless of why the illustrator made this choice, the fact remains that children see a bear with light not dark fur who is spared a trip to the police station.

• Does this book explain the rights children have in interacting with police--for example, that children may ask to have a parent or other adult present during questioning?

The text of this book is in second person, directed to the child reader of the book. There’s no indication as to whether an adult resident of the home is also present. A throwaway line such as “I see you’ve got your grown-up with you” could have placed an adult on the child’s side in the interaction. There’s no mention of the fact that a child has the right to ask for a parent or guardian to be present during questioning by police. If this is a child alone, as the text implies, then the book is modeling that it is safe and normal for police officers to question a child alone without asking if they would like a parent present.

• Does this book acknowledge that some people choose to call the police and some people do not?  Does it acknowledge the perspective that calling police is not the only way or right way to get help?

Police in this story were called by “neighbors,” all of who appear angry, to investigate a loud party. Noise complaint calls are an example of “quality of life policing,” or what’s more commonly known as “broken windows policing.” Creators of Campaign Zero describe how “broken windows policing has led to the criminalization and over-policing of communities of color and excessive force in otherwise harmless situations. In other words: police calls for issues such as excessive noise tend to inversely impact people of color, and benefit White people. In fact, writers like Nikole Hannah-Jones have argued that the act of calling police is, itself, primarily available to white people, since people of color are disproportionately at risk of being harmed or killed after police are summoned, even if they are the ones who make the call.

Of the four neighbors depicted making angry calls to police in TEDDY, two appear white, one is racially ambiguous (light skin and dark hair), and one has light brown skin. The artist appears to have made an effort not to show four white people calling police with noise complaints, but in this case the attempt to show diversity begs the question: Is this realistic?

• In many communities, police officers are required to wear body cameras on their uniforms. Do this book's illustrations depict body cameras on police uniforms?

In Oakland, police are required to wear body cameras, which, as Campaign Zero notes, have been shown to be an effective tool for capturing instances of police brutality. In fact, California is one of five states with laws requiring police officers to wear body cameras (in a couple states, only under certain conditions). Other states have laws about how body cameras are to be funded or documented in public record, for a total of thirty-four states with some form of legislation on the books about body cameras for police. Although the officers in TEDDY are drawn with enough detail to show they have badges, radios, batons (no guns), disabling chemical sprays, and notebooks, they do not have visible body cameras.

Now I’ll move  to the second section of Evaluating:

• How does the author of this book refer to people being pursued by police? Many children's books refer to people being pursued with language implying guilt, such as "criminals" or "bad guys." However, US laws protecting due process render such terms inaccurate, as people being chased by police have not been proven guilty in a court of law. People being pursued or arrested are suspects.

This implication of guilt and “badness” comes up so often in children’s police books that its absence in TEDDY is actually what is noteworthy. In 2016, when OPL children’s librarians began our research, every single police book I reviewed contained language implying guilt used inappropriately: books consistently described police as pursuing and arresting “bad guys” or “criminals.” One of the first points contributed to our toolkit by a children’s librarian was that “People being pursued or arrested are suspects,” and it is inaccurate to call them a bad guy or criminal. There’s no such use of this language in TEDDY, which is consistent with the fact that all escape punishment in the end.

• Does this book depict violations of civil rights in how police treat civilians without acknowledging them as violations? You can read about people's rights when interacting with police in the ACLU document Know Your Rights: What to do if you're stopped by police, immigration agents or the FBI.

• If this book depicts a parental arrest, are procedures for ensuring the child's safety depicted as well? If not, is that discussed? Children have special rights in the event of a parent or caregiver's arrest or incarceration, and local police departments may have their own policies and procedures on protecting children when a parent is arrested. You can learn more in the Bill of Rights developed by San Francisco Children of Incarcerated Parents Partnership, and the paper Safeguarding Children of Arrested Parents by the International Association of Chiefs of Police.

I’ve already discussed the book’s failure to indicate the presence of an adult. Though Teddy is (presumably) not a parent and is ultimately not arrested, it’s worth noting that a great body of literature exists around parental arrests and optimal procedures for ensuring the safety of affected children, including the two resources linked above. What’s visible in the work that exists around parental arrest points to this indisputable fact: it is traumatic for a child to witness the arrest of a parent, guardian, family member, or friend. In the case of a parent, it’s so traumatic that a common recommendation is for the arresting officers to ask the parent if they would like their child to be cared for in another room during the arrest.

It can be assumed that a child’s teddy bear is a close companion, in a familial role. The moment in which Officer Hardy informs Teddy that they will be brought to the police station is not a depiction of arrest, but it is not far off. Furthermore, the illustrations then imply Officer Hardy changes their mind based on the fact that Teddy reminds them of their own childhood teddy bear. While this makes for a happier ending, with Teddy released rather than led away in handcuffs, it also suggests that either Teddy was going to be detained for frivolous reasons, or that the officer has given preferential treatment to a suspect based on a personal connection.

I’ll note that Evaluating is pointedly not a bibliography. Any list of titles we might have produced would be outdated as soon as it was published and require constant maintenance to stay relevant. We definitely found books that tempted us to recommend them to everyone, but to be practical, the children’s librarians who collaborated on this toolkit chose to focus on empowering librarians to evaluate police books for children themselves.

TEDDY received three reviews in professional journals: Kirkus and Publishers Weekly in July, and School Library Journal in October. None mention any of the problems I’ve discussed. Publishers Weekly states that “readers will revel in the vicarious, rule-breaking fun.” School Library Journal calls it a “humorous tale of stuffed animal mayhem that will entertain early elementary students and provide a fun read-aloud for younger children.” Kirkus notes the intended humor of the story while saying it could have been stronger, ultimately calling it a “fair if somewhat ephemeral story.” Oakland Public Library might have purchased TEDDY as a read-aloud based on these reviews; fortunately, I was sent a review copy and discovered the problematic elements;  selectors chose not to buy it with this additional information.

The fact that all three professional reviews of TEDDY missed the problematic police content assures me that now is the right time for Evaluating Children’s Books about Police. It’s somewhat more accepted today among children’s book reviewers that race, class, and privilege must be considered in evaluating children’s books; however, racism in police-community relations did not occur to any of the reviewers for TEDDY as something critical to consider and as important to mention as skin tone.

In releasing this toolkit, OPL hopes to bring awareness to the need for sensitivity toward varying experiences of police in children’s books. We welcome feedback and consider Evaluating a living document, open for review and conversation.

Good White People and Ghosts

Amy Cheney is currently the District Library Manager of Oakland Unified School District after working for many years on the behalf of incarcerated children. All views expressed are her own, and do not reflect those of her employer.

With the horrors of Amerikkkan White entitlement showing more of itself in Charlottesville this past August, I received this email from Center for Popular Action, which I quote in part:

 “White supremacy (...) is a reflection of centuries-long oppressive structures that permeate every aspect of our government, financial systems, cultural norms, and society at large. It’s a system in which Black and Brown bodies are continually devalued, marginalized, and criminalized, and those that perpetrate violence on people of color are protected, promoted, and honored.”

This paragraph gave me pause. When I read “those that perpetuate violence on people of color are protected, promoted and honored” I immediately thought of a recent experience I had that illustrates this--and NOT by the Alt-Right plowing cars into people, or Sheriff Arpaio, but by well-intentioned White librarians and a venerated graphic novelist.

I attended an event about Diversity in Graphic novels in May. Jack Baur and Amanda Jacobs Foust, whom I highly respect, gave a great presentation about a history of comics that illuminated much. Thi Bui  and Mariko Tamaki were on the panel representing their beautiful books. You can see the presentation here and find more useful information on this site. [updated 10/11/17]

However, I wondered why Raina Telgemeier, a White writer, whose book Ghosts has been shown to be inaccurate and an act of cultural misappropriation was on this panel about diversity.

Let’s be clear:  by being on the panel, this White person was being promoted and honored.

I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was not going to go well.

And, it did not.

As a White person, I have had many experiences of my privilege in the realm of showing up to a public forum without adequate preparation because I am used to being believed, listened to, honored, promoted and protected. Donald Trump exhibits an extreme version of this where he believes everything he says is important and true and he can say it just because of who he is. I have talked on and on about something I actually knew nothing about, all the while thinking I was making a valuable point.  White people don’t have to prepare or analyze, or take time to understand people’s point of view because what we think fits into cultural norms, and…..truly, underneath it all, we’ve bought into the belief that we know what we are talking about, that our conversation and voice is important because we are good, we mean well, we are a part of the solution, and... we aren’t racist. 

The analysis that follows is both personal and not personal to Raina Telgemeier (RT) and the moderators (JB and AJF). They are good people, fantastic librarians and a terrific author/illustrator.  It is personal only in that they have a responsibility, as all of us White people do, to uncover, unearth and deal with the legacy we have been born into.

Here is a video of the panel. Beginning at 41.07, you can see exactly how it went down.

At 41.07 in the video, a question is asked to RT.

From 41.35 onward RT deflects, devalues and marginalizes what people of color and First/Native Nations have been saying to her about her book while displaying all the classic signs of White fragility. AJF and JB support and protect her.

What is absolutely horrifying to me about this interchange is:

1. RT did not and was not able to provide a clear summary and context of the criticisms leveled against her book and break down her responsibility in perpetuating the devaluation and marginalization of people of color and First/Native Nations. She actually turned to the person of color who asked the question to provide the context.

2. RT devolved into her “right” to write a book because “some of my best friends are _______.”  She focuses on her validity to write a book about Mexican Americans, in part because she married into a Latin American family.  "I didn't think I was borrowing, I thought I was experiencing something on a personal level and sharing stories"  (43.01). RT does not show a clear understanding of what people of color and First/Native Nations have been saying about cultural appropriation.  She says that she has been thinking deeply about this, but whatever thinking she has done was not apparent or shared in any meaningful way. Here’s just one article (the basic 101 version) that outlines some issues about cultural appropriation. 

3. RT’s comments devolved into personal issues that deflected from the very real issue of the genocide her book glosses over and normalizes. At 43.14 there is a clear example of White fragility and deflecting from the issues raised by people of color and First/Native Nations: “I’m not allowed to talk about going through a divorce right now, but it’s really difficult,” she says with tears. Somehow RT is now the victim - “not allowed to talk”  and has extenuating circumstances - difficult divorce - that explains away/detracts from addressing the question. This is what often happens when White people are confronted about racism and it’s what people of color have brought up time and again. This was a complete deflection from the racism in the book Ghosts,  the question at hand and what the panel was supposed to be about.

4. At 43.28 the moderators AJF and JB jump in to “take care” of and protect RT from her personal issues that she is using to distract from addressing the real issues of the problems of her book.

5. At 43.33 elaborate and nonsensical arguments are used to protect RT.  AJF uses the bizarre argument that why we need more diversity overall is because “when there are these unique stories presented they are highly criticized because there are no other voices telling these stories” and that “it’s really easy when there is one example of it to be picked apart because it can’t be everything to everyone.” I know AJF  didn’t mean that we need more diversity so that White people don’t get criticized, but that is actually what she said!

6. Accurate context is not provided by the moderators thereby perpetuating White point of view as normal. At 44.15, AJF says the book deals “a lot with California Missions”  and “the things that we are taught about California Missions and the things that we are not taught about California Missions is huge.” The moderators should have been prepared--i.e. thought through carefully why they included RT on a panel about diversity, be prepared to provide a context of the feedback given by people of color and First/Native Nations and to unequivocally denounce what was written/illustrated in Ghosts that glosses over and thus perpetuates genocide and violence.

For example, they could have credited Debbie Reese, who has already been so kind to inform those that didn’t already know that California Missions were the sites of massive genocide of First/Native Nations peoples.  See her analysis here to understand how Ghosts whitewashes the brutal history of the missions. The moderators and the author could have highlighted and distilled what Debbie Reese and others say in order to educate the audience as to the issues, thus honoring, promoting and valuing the voices of people of color and First/Native Nations.

7. White supremacy is used as an excuse for non-accountability. It seems that AJF’s point was that due to White supremacy we can’t be held accountable to the ways in which we have bought in, been misinformed, etc. If that’s the case, how have people of color and First/Native Nations been informed? Yes, due to White supremacy we are taught a whitewashed version of history but that doesn’t excuse us for perpetuating what we have been taught, for being so vague in our answers and not taking the platform that is given to educate, unequivocally, those in the audience that still may be unaware. Instead these three White people did not take the platform they had to do this. 

The book was not criticized “because there were ghosts at the Missions” as AJF  says, but 1. because the Missions setting was portrayed in a benign and thus false way and 2. as  Yuyi Morales points out (in the comments section): Day of the Dead is not about ghosts but about the souls of the departed. These things could have been clearly articulated by any of the White people.

8. White supremacy is blamed and also used as an excuse for not taking personal responsibility. At 45.00 RT sorta takes ownership: “It (What is It? This needs to be clearly said!) was an oversight and I have to take responsibility for that.” However, within 7 seconds, at 45.07  she clearly does not take responsibility by saying “but it was not something flagged by a single reader, and I had several of them.” This comment highlights privilege (“I had readers”) as an excuse to justify personal innocence. She seems to be saying that not ALL these White people and other readers could be wrong! Uh, yeah. They could be and are.

9. White supremacy is blamed for victimizing us all. Non-acknowledgement of inherent bias/racism is used to justify not doing adequate research.   At 50:50 RT says she did a ton of research and wishes that books and information would have been available to her. This is an example of a mistaken, passive and dangerous belief that we are all victims of White supremacy. Let’s be clear: RT is benefiting from, not victimized by, White supremacy throughout this entire debacle.

At 44:39 AJF says that “I don’t know of an editor that would have that kind of experience to question what we were taught.” First of all, this is a completely arrogant statement, second of all, it’s not true, and third of all, that’s not an excuse, reason or explanation: all of us need to learn how to question what we were taught and how we perpetuate the myth of White supremacy. In addition, it’s NOT up to people of color and First/Native Nations to do this work, but it IS up to us White people.

A simple Google search of “california missions racism” pulls up all one needed to know. On my browser this is included in the second entry: “Missions were little more than concentration camps where California's Indians were beaten, whipped, maimed, burned, tortured and virtually exterminated by the friars.”  Elias Castillo.

As to the possibility that the Scholastic editorial team did not question, fact check, google or utilize their resources to either hire a person of color or First/Native Nations to write this book or fact check a book by a White author about people of color -- that is also their responsibility that doesn’t diminish RT’s responsibility.

This “oversight” might have occurred because it might not have occurred to any of these White people that they could be unqualified or racist and that it’s their responsibility to question the status quo.

10. 46.42 Continued elaborate justifications by the moderators take more time and deflect from the purpose of the panel. Both AJF and JB appear to hold the book in such high esteem for the fact that it is taking on “this topic” (meaning Day of the Dead? Missions? Biracial kids?). All of these topics have been shown to be problematic! Why is this not acknowledged and instead explained away? JB’s perspective that “this could be the ONLY book that kids in Kansas read about this topic” means that somehow this justifies the writing of it and completely undermines, devalues, and Whitesplains away what people of color and First/Native Nations have been saying about the book.

Just to be clear - the criticism isn’t that RT is White and therefore shouldn’t have written the story. No, the problem is that she used (culturally appropriated) Latinx characters and culture that she didn’t accurately represent, and she erased a genocide. Please see Nic Stone’s terrific article about the dangers of “helping” marginalized people be more visible.

11. The people of color on the panel had just a few moments to introduce some good points and places of exploration. These were not picked up by the moderators and built upon, instead the conversation was ended. For examples:  at 49.34 Mariko Tamaki clearly acknowledges her process of understanding how she might be inadvertently racist and outlines a very simple way to make an apology.  This is not heard or followed up on. At 51.35 more from Mariko that’s not expanded upon. At 53.57 Thi Bui gets a few moments at the very end, when she speaks about telling stories from marginalized perspectives and listening to feedback. This is where JB ends the discussion. There were many opportunities on the panel (and before!) for RT, AJF and JB to hear what people of color and First/Native Nations were saying. Instead, the attention and time was used to support and protect RT’s personal defended stance.

12. This entire exchange took from 41:01 - 54:51--almost 15 minutes of time. This panel was supposed to be about Diversity in Graphic Novels and was derailed by a bunch of White BS.

Dare I say that all of this individual lack of ownership of the problem by White people adds up to collective systemic oppression? What I’m shining a light on here is a perfect example of a group of good, well-intentioned White people -- publishers, author, “readers”, editors, moderators, etc--acting together to assert their point of view, meanwhile devaluing and marginalizing the point of view of people of color and First Native/Nations.

Let’s be clear: promoting, honoring and protecting White people who have been educated but haven't owned their inadvertent racist mistakes = violence against people of color and First/Native Nations. It’s not complicated. It’s plain and simple.

The solidification of “White is right” violence continues with what looks like the all White judging panel for the Eisner Awards selecting Ghosts to win Best Publication for Kids (ages 9-12).

It is our responsibility as White people to:

●      Assume, own and understand that we, as White people, by definition and experience, are racist, regardless of whether we are consciously bigoted.

●      Realize it’s a lifelong process to understand all the ways that we are positioned in power, and consciously or unconsciously perpetuate this racist system.

●      Take the time to analyze cultural norms and prepare so as to be aware and inclusive

●      Question the status quo

●      Expose, attend to, and acknowledge--when appropriate--all the ways that we are racist, inadvertent or not 

●      Be VERY clear how we benefit from and perpetuate White supremacy

●      Provide clear examples and information to other White people about how we benefit and perpetuate racism and White supremacy.

●      Take action to point out and dismantle the system that we are benefiting and profiting from

●      Listen to, find the validity of and reach a deep understanding of people of color’s and First Native/Nation feedback--especially those we don’t understand or seem contrary to our views

●      Move through our shame and excuses (didn’t know, didn’t mean to, but  - blah, blah, blah)

●      Come to a clear acknowledgement of feedback

●      Incorporate this information into our conversation

●      Take action to rectify the problem, especially at personal expense. This means taking action that is not easy, convenient or lucrative, but is doing the right thing to make amends and reparations.

●      Not expect people of color and First/Native Nations to shoulder the burden of analysis, feedback, context of how we have bought into and perpetuate White supremacy.

●      Google “racism” + keywords

If indeed, if RT, AJF and JB want to take responsibility, the response could have been/can be any number of things such as:

●      Use the platform of the panel on Graphic Novel diversity and Eisner award to inform about the many problems of the book

●      Acknowledge the people of color and First Native/Nations that brought the racism to light

●      Not accept the award or the position on the panel but refer a person of color or First/Native Nations to participate and highlight

●      Have a forum to extend deeper the racism brought to light

●      Give back all proceeds of the book to small presses that are highlighting  people of color and native people such as Blood Orange Press, or one of the presses listed here.

●      Stop the press run of Ghosts and refuse to make money by perpetuating ignorance and inaccuracies that ultimately harm us all and that are off of the backs of people of color and First/Native Nations.

●      Issue an apology

●      Keep the video that is linked in this piece up on the web. In this way other White  people who want to see what covert yet solidified racism looks like can.

Unconsciousness or good intentions doesn’t excuse behavior or make it less racist and violent. Illuminating and eradicating racism takes vigilant work that can only come about if it’s understood that we are inadvertently and covertly racist and that we will inevitably expose this. We then need to learn to own this racism, learn from our mistakes, speak out, refuse to participate with the status quo and take positive action for a more equitable and just world. Only when personal responsibility is taken can oppressive systems be dismantled.