Representation matters

This is an old post, but it's become sadly relevant again because publishers still Aren't Getting It. If you read one thing in relation to the #YesGayYA debate, read this post by seanan_mcguire.

“Books do not determine a person’s sexual orientation. I was not somehow destined to be straight, and led astray by Annie On My Mind and the Valdemar books. I was born with universal wiring. I have had boyfriends and I have had girlfriends and I have had both at the same time, and none of that—NONE OF THAT—is because I read a book where a girl was in love with a girl and I decided that being bisexual would be a fun way to kill a weekend.

But those books did tell me I didn’t have to hate myself, and they did tell me that there was nothing wrong with me, and they did make it easier on everyone involved, because here was something I could hand to Mom and go “See? It’s not just me, and it’s not the end of the world, and it’s not the only thing that defines me.” Supposedly, ten percent of people are gay or bi with a tropism toward their own gender. It stands to reason that there should be positive non-hetero relationships in at least ten percent of YA literature. And they’re not there. And things like this are why."

I'm straight, and when I was growing up the only books I encountered with LGBTQ characters were 'issues books', you know, where the character struggled with coming out. The first book I can remember with a LGBTQ character who just existed as part of the story was The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman, which has Balthamos and Baruch, a pair of gay rebel angels. There were gay and lesbian characters on some of the TV shows I watched, but it was the mid-to-late-90s, and things should be better now. I know it's not all about me, but I think this is relevant to everyone. Representation matters. It matters to straight kids like me because we need to see that the world isn't made up entirely of people like us. And it matters to LGBTQ kids because they need to see people like them being brave, being heroic, being clever and kind and compassionate and complex. They need to see themselves as part of the story.

Representation matters

This is an old post, but it's become sadly relevant again because publishers still Aren't Getting It. If you read one thing in relation to the #YesGayYA debate, read this post by seanan_mcguire.

“Books do not determine a person’s sexual orientation. I was not somehow destined to be straight, and led astray by Annie On My Mind and the Valdemar books. I was born with universal wiring. I have had boyfriends and I have had girlfriends and I have had both at the same time, and none of that—NONE OF THAT—is because I read a book where a girl was in love with a girl and I decided that being bisexual would be a fun way to kill a weekend.

But those books did tell me I didn’t have to hate myself, and they did tell me that there was nothing wrong with me, and they did make it easier on everyone involved, because here was something I could hand to Mom and go “See? It’s not just me, and it’s not the end of the world, and it’s not the only thing that defines me.” Supposedly, ten percent of people are gay or bi with a tropism toward their own gender. It stands to reason that there should be positive non-hetero relationships in at least ten percent of YA literature. And they’re not there. And things like this are why."

I'm straight, and when I was growing up the only books I encountered with LGBTQ characters were 'issues books', you know, where the character struggled with coming out. The first book I can remember with a LGBTQ character who just existed as part of the story was The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman, which has Balthamos and Baruch, a pair of gay rebel angels. There were gay and lesbian characters on some of the TV shows I watched, but it was the mid-to-late-90s, and things should be better now. I know it's not all about me, but I think this is relevant to everyone. Representation matters. It matters to straight kids like me because we need to see that the world isn't made up entirely of people like us. And it matters to LGBTQ kids because they need to see people like them being brave, being heroic, being clever and kind and compassionate and complex. They need to see themselves as part of the story.