Get Some Diversity: Part One (ROYA #29)

Without getting political, it’s safe to say the world would benefit from a little more compassion and understanding right now. The rise in hatred and intolerance across the globe is hard to ignore. I believe Martin Luther King Jr. correctly identified lack of communication as the root of the problem. However, tackling such a gargantuan issue is daunting. It’s difficult to see how one person can make a difference. But we can. YOU can. And it all starts with something as simple as reading a novel.

“We must promote, persuade, and provoke our young readers to pick up those books that broaden and challenge our understanding of what it means to be another and to be ourselves.” 

---Alegria Barclay, excerpt from Building Empathy Through Reading  regarding Black Lives Matter 

Books have the ability to reach people and communicate ideas. Their influence is undeniable. Yet, for a long time there wasn’t enough accurate representation in fiction, particularly in books geared towards children and teens, to foster an empathetic outlook. Somehow the default settings in YA tended towards white, heterosexual, gender binary characters, often from middle-class backgrounds. I’m not suggesting stories with these characteristics aren’t or can’t be enjoyable, but constantly having to relate to them when you see nothing of yourself is tiresome. Moreover, if you do identify with some or all of these traits, failing to read stories about those who don’t can narrow your lens of perception. 

Can books really have such a huge influence on younger readers? Absolutely! Sometimes fiction can be a young person’s only route into experiencing the lives of others with whom they have little in common.  On the flip-side, some children and teens rarely see themselves represented in fiction, which poses another problem. When they’re continually presented with books in which people like them are secondary characters, or aren’t even there at all, they begin to perceive themselves as having the same relevancy. These youngsters don’t deserve to think of themselves as invisible or secondary characters in life. They have a right to see characters similar to them as the hero, adventurer, vanquisher of evil, and star in the spotlight. This isn’t purely for entertainment’s sake. It’s about giving kids a chance to feel as though they’re part of this world.

To see oneself in the pages of a young adult book is to receive the reassurance that one is not alone after all, not other, not alien but, instead, a viable part of a larger community of beings who share a common humanity.--- Michael Cart, Expert for children’s and Young Adult Literature, excerpt from The Value of Young Adult Literature 

Thanks to movements like We Need Diverse Books and Ramp Your Voice this is changing, and diversity-deficient fiction is counteracted with multiple constructive campaigns. Now it’s easier than ever to find books featuring a wide range of cultures and backgrounds, and work by authors of different ethnicities. All you need to do is get your hands on one, read it, and if it’s good, recommend it to people. If you have the urge to do more than that, why not gift a copy to a friend or family member? It’s that easy. By doing this, you spread awareness and subsequently contribute towards culturing compassion and understanding in society. You become a transmitter through which the book communicates with the world.

If you’re keen to take that extra step towards diversifying your reading, here’s an idea for how you might go about it. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to ensure the next five books you read sit outside your usual scope. Avoid the temptation to select something from a genre you don’t read and instead look to switch-up the human element. For example, if you typically enjoy books by men, pick one by a woman. Find something by a transgender author. Choose a book with a POC protagonist if most of the characters you usually encounter are white. If you tend towards authors who are straight or gay, seek out work by openly bi, ace, or pan writers. Above all, actively hunt down work by writers from cultures and backgrounds that contrast with your own. These are just a handful of suggestions to which you are by no means limited. There are thousands of ways to diversify your reading, and the more you read and share, the greater your contribution to spreading compassion and understanding. In the meantime, if you’re unsure of where to start, check out this list on Mostly YA Lit. Or if you’re into sci-fi & fantasy, take a look at Diversity in YA’s list.

Next week, I’ll continue this topic by looking at how readers and writers can interrogate artistic decisions when it comes to diversity in fiction. Until then, happy reading!

The Problem With Forever Love (ROYA #28)

There’s something special about teenage romance. The butterflies, blushing, jangled nerves whenever that special person is close enough to touch. It’s intense, all-consuming, and when it’s good, it’s great. Holiday romances, one week flings with a classmate, stolen kisses with a friend in a moment of confusion, or unrequited infatuation, they all have one thing in common. Teen romances – usually – end. And that’s a good thing. It’s hard to acknowledge that at the time, but it’s nevertheless true. Teen romances are rites of passage that bring us one step closer to self-definition, something we strive towards throughout our teens and early twenties.  So why do so many contemporary YA books portray teen romances as lasting a lifetime?

Okay, I know what some of you are thinking. “YA fiction doesn’t have to be realistic!” and “I don’t want the reality, I want the fantasy/ love the happily ever after.” Sure, I understand the appeal. But hear me out. As adults, we can suspend our disbelief and decipher fact from fiction. However, the trend for Forever Love in YA movies, TV, and books is having an impact on how teens perceive romantic relationships. As literature teacher Cheryl L. Dickson points out in The ALAN Review:

“Each adolescent is certain that his/her love is true and will result in a lifelong commitment. Each one dreaming of the emotional fireworks, picnics on the beach, a honeymoon in Paris, and the names of his/her first-born… I then realize how disappointing it can be when their dreams of romance and love are crushed.”

Adolescent and adult relationships are different.  The motivation behind most teenage romance is not emotional intimacy, but convenience, status, and appeasing their egos. Admittedly, that sounds negative, but it’s all part of growing up. Teens are hardwired to seek relationships that benefit themselves and aren’t normally willing to put another’s feelings before their own. It’s well established that teenagers are more susceptible to media influence.  Consistently offering unrealistic representations of teen romance in mainstream books, TV, and movies isn’t just irresponsible, it’s harmful.

It all comes down to expectations. If there were enough depictions of realistic teen romance in popular entertainment, then adolescents would have a better understanding of what to expect from a relationship. Instead of adopting a wait-and-see approach, many teens enter their first romance assuming it’s the love of their life. As a result, they’re more likely to forgive mistreatment and abuse for the sake of maintaining their relationship. Especially when male love interests in YA are portrayed as controlling liars who’re excused for their behaviour because they’re super hot (I’m looking at you, Twilight). I could list a plethora of YA books which conform to this type, but I want to avoid giving away any spoilers. Because of this unattainable aspiration for Forever Love, teenagers will go to lengths to hold the interest of their girl/boyfriend, compromising their appearance, character, and sense of self-worth. Of course, when the relationship inevitably turns bad or fizzles out, the impact can seem life-altering. As adults, we know this isn’t the case, but as teens, almost everything seems like it will change your life forever.  Their feelings are valid and should be respected when representing teen romance in fiction and entertainment that's specifically aimed at them. They shouldn’t be made to feel as though they’re incapable or not deserving of a relationship when in actuality the relationship is an ideal which doesn’t exist.

You might be wondering if YA and teen fiction have always been this way. Simply put, no. The concept of Forever Love rose in popularity around the start of the noughties and is yet to see a decline.  As a 90’s teen with a voracious appetite for fiction, I can confirm none of the contemporary books aimed at my demographic had lifelong romances. At least, not the ones I read, and I read a lot. Of course, the market for teen/YA fiction is relatively new, and the general acceptance of teens as a demographic originated as recently as the 1950s.  Social standards were different  then, of course, and the legal marrying age drops the further back in history you look. Yet, celebrated books considered suitable for adolescents such as Little Women (1868) the Little House [on the Prairie]  series (1938), rarely portray protagonists in long-term relationships before their twenties. In Anne of Green Gables  (1908) it takes five books before Anne’s married, and by then she’s twenty-five. 

There are contemporary YA books out there with more accurate depictions of teen romance, and they need to be championed.  I just have to find them first. If you have any suggestions of great YA with a believable romance, please get in touch, I’d love to hear from you.

When Adult Books Have Teen Protagonists (ROYA #27)

The first “adult” book I read featuring a teenage main character was Alice Walker's The Color Purple. It was recommended in one of the many teen mags I bought regularly - it’s a ‘90’s thing - as the perfect antidote to a bad break-up. In truth, reading in general can be an antidote to almost any heartache, so long as you pick the right book. At the tender age of sixteen, devastated after being dumped by a guy I’d only just forgiven for cheating on me, I needed a point in the right direction. It worked. In around three chapters my mind was open to the bigger picture. Those of you who’ve read The Color Purple will know it’s not what's considered a suitable book for children. But for teenage me, it was pivotal in my understanding of oppression as both a concept and the reality for many. I gained a valuable lesson on heartache and strength beyond the confines of romance.

When it comes to YA, the general rule of thumb is that the protagonist must be a teen. I completely agree with this and struggle to imagine a successful example of breaking this rule.* However, I’ve lost count of the supposedly “adult” books which have relatively young teenagers as main characters. Examples of these are Sue Monk Kid’s The Secret Life of Bees, Jane Harris’ The Observations, Sarah Water’s Fingersmith, and Jenny Fagan’s The Panopticon. Here’s the thing, if stories like these are about what can happen to adolescents, shouldn’t teens be made aware of their existence and have easy access to them? Just because they don’t end neatly, have adult themes, and harsh lessons doesn’t mean they’re not worthwhile reads for teens struggling to deal with their emotions.

Of course, like I said last week, I am a YA impostor. I read books specifically targeted at teens, for numerous reasons.  But I remain convinced that, just as adults enjoy books aimed at teens, so too should teenagers know they’re not restricted from reading adult fiction. We  can all enjoy both. When I needed a copy of The Color Purple, I was lucky enough to find one in my High School Library (thank you, Mr Clarkson!). Should it be left to librarians alone to bridge this gap? Or do we, as a society, have a duty to step-up and encourage reading which breaks the rules of a perceived demographic? Obviously, I favour the latter. I’m not saying we should start handing out copies of War and Peace to all thirteen-year-olds. I’m merely suggesting some as young as that have the capacity to comprehend and connect to Tolstoy’s epic through the journey of the many young characters.

A quick check of contemporary online magazines, especially those targeted at teens, will show a tendency to remain within the parameters of age-specific recommending reading.  Perhaps it’s always been this way, and my happening on an article which broke that rule all those years ago was pure chance. I honestly don’t know. What I do know is we have an opportunity as a society to provide perspective through all forms of literature, and teens have as much right to that information as adults.


*If you have an example, please leave a comment with details.