As
some of my friends and followers on social media know, I have been
distressed by reactions to the ALSC renaming of the Laura Ingalls
Wilder Award, as expressed on the Sisters in Crime listserv. In
part, this disappointment was because Sisters in Crime had recently
launched a diversity initiative of some ambition and had been taking
a lot of the right steps to make their overwhelmingly white
organization truly inclusive, so I had a lot of love and hope and
high expectations for this organization of writers. The many comments
that ranged from simply entitled and tone-deaf to dog whistles to
open racism (an actual comparison of the award name change to
lynching, for example) felt like a direct slap in the face to Native
and African American writers and readers, while some with broader
references like “putrid political correctness” and “victim
culture,” probably slammed home with other writers and readers of
color, with disabilities, in the LGBTQ community, as well.
They
certainly reminded me, viscerally, of the hurt I felt when I was a
childish bookworm reading Wilder's books and encountering statements
that insulted and diminished Native people, such as “there were no
people there, only Indians.” When a famous and respected writer
writes that you and your family are not even really human, the child
you were sustains damage, whether you become defensive and angry to
protect your people or ashamed and feeling guilt about your own
heritage and culture. One of my friends was African American, and as
I read what Wilder wrote about African Americans, I had wondered if
it hurt her as much as her remarks about Natives hurt me—and I had
thought it surely must.
The
angry comments in reaction to the award name change filled the
listserv in an onslaught with only a couple of people (for whom I am
truly grateful) speaking out against them. It looked so lopsided that
I almost gave up hope for the organization. This was probably easier
to do because of the dark political climate of the past two years—and
especially the past week. As all these stressors from the national
stage pile up incrementally, it becomes easier to despair, and any
kind of optimism becomes difficult to manage, creating extra impact
for any local negativity, especially if it echoes the national trend
of targeting Natives, people of color, people with disabilities,
LGBTQ people, immigrants, Muslims, poor people, and women. (It
probably didn't help that I am housebound with a shattered right
shoulder and other injuries connected to that. Injury and illness are
depression's handmaids.)
Then,
after a private conversation with me about the situation and social
media posts about it by me and others, a past president of
the organization, Catriona MacPherson, wrote a passionate but lucid
and cogent essay on Facebook
(https://www.facebook.com/catriona.mcpherson.54/posts/1169564503186127)
in
rebuttal of the problematic comments on the Sisters in Crime listserv
(reminding me immediately of why she is one of my favorite people).
Hundreds of people in the mystery community and SinC responded to her
post—all in support, save one. More than 175 people shared her post
on Facebook, often with their own statements of support added, and
each of those shared posts accumulated many responses from the
mystery community, almost all supportive, as far as I could see. Then
some of the people who had shared her essay put their own strong
statements in favor of the name change or in support of members from
marginalized communities on the SinC listserv, and I began to see
that my initial faith in the organization had been justified.
Finally,
the Sisters in Crime Board closed the listserv, with President Kendel
Lynn saying its eventual closure had been discussed for some time,
but this ugly discussion had prompted them to shut it down now, in
hopes of reinventing it soon in some way that would be healthier,
more constructive, and less likely to become hurtful.
(https://www.facebook.com/sistersincrime/posts/1454969294649630)
I didn't particularly want the listserv closed, and I don't think
anyone else did, either, but I believe the Board faced a difficult
situation with no easy solutions and made the best decision they
could after one of the listserv monitors tried to end the discussion
on this topic and was completely ignored. The Board made a decision
that they knew would be unpopular with some members, because they
wanted to keep the organization true to its expressed ideals. They
have my respect for their courage and commitment to the
organization's mission and goals.
I
have been burned many times by organizations that talk the diversity
and inclusiveness talk but fail to make needed changes to carry out
these goals or retreat when faced with divisive situations, such as
this that Sisters in Crime faced. SinC and the mystery field, in
general, are overwhelmingly white, ablebodied, and heterosexual but
more and more writers from marginalized communities are showing up
and being published—and the field has always had interest for
readers from those communities. The situation that Sisters in Crime
and the larger mystery community is facing is one that all literary
communities in this country face. It is the same situation that our
nation as a whole faces. The many communities of people who have been
left out or dismissed or openly (or covertly) oppressed are tired of
the status quo and insist that the United States live up to its
expressed ideals. This upsets, frightens, threatens, and enrages
people who have benefited, willingly or unwillingly, consciously or
unconsciously, from the status quo.
Publishing
and the mystery field are a microcosm of that larger situation.
Sisters in Crime, which began thirty-two years ago as an advocacy and
mutual support organization for women in crime fiction, who faced
discrimination and prejudice, has had great success in that initial
mission and has now expanded it to include other kinds of
discrimination and prejudice. I look forward to seeing the
organization once again leading the way in the field of crime fiction
and in publishing itself, as it has proven itself so capable of
doing.
