Participate in enough diversity training sessions, workshops, or talks – as most young professionals have at school and in our jobs – and you’ll hear your fair share of grumbling from Gen-X and Gen-Yers. “Diversity training again? Really? It’s 2014. Who still needs to be told this stuff?”
I’m a member of Gen-Y, and most of my friends are either Gen-X or Gen-Y.* We grew up with the message that diversity is a good and important thing. Our friends hail from all different races, religions, ethnic groups, backgrounds. To the extent we think about our friends’ backgrounds (which, for most of us, isn’t much or often), we like the fact that our social groups are made up of so many different faces and backgrounds. We value the different perspectives that come with the experience of belonging to all kinds of communities. And sometimes, we can’t believe it still has to be spelled out, because… we know. We know diversity is good. We know it’s important. We know it adds value. Diversity is a value that’s ingrained in us, has been since childhood, and we simply can’t believe there are people out there who still don’t get it, and still need it explained to them. Because, isn’t it obvious?
Apparently, it’s not.** Every so often, an outrage happens that leaves people shaking their heads and saying, “I guess there are still people who need to be told this stuff.” This week, that’s BookCon. BookCon is the new name for the power readers’ day on the final day of Book Expo America, the premier book industry gathering of the year in the U.S. Every year, industry insiders, reviewers, bloggers and readers gather at BEA for a weekend of bookish awesome. There’s even an “Armchair BEA” for those who can’t make it in person. It’s a big deal and I’ve always wanted to go, until this year.
Last week or so, BookCon rolled out its lists of panelists and readers scratched their heads at the lineup of one of the most important panels – a kidlit and YA celebrity panel – made up entirely of white males. The conversation began in smoky confusion. “Um, guys? This is the lineup? This is the final lineup? Uhhhh, but… Where are the women? Where are the people of color?” BookCon’s reaction – an apology-that-wasn’t-really-an-apology from its organizer, ReedPop, followed by a head-scratching decision not to change anything because people were still buying tickets (but what about all those people demanding refunds, BookCon?) added fuel, and now it’s a raging fire. Within the last few days, BookCon extended an invitation to a female author of color to join as a panelist. (They had previously invited her to moderate, with a list of pre-approved questions. When she asked if she could be on the panel, they declined.) Many considered the invitation too little, too late and pointed out (correctly, I think) that it smacks of tokenism. It also puts the newly invited author in an untenable position. Does she want to accept the invitation and enjoy the publicity, but at the price of being the token female and the token person of color? Or does she want to reject it and take a stand, but lose out on the publicity for her work? It’s a no-win situation, and completely unfair to her.
I’m not going to say more about the controversy, because BookRiot has already said it all so well. (Check out this post for just one example of thoughtful criticism of BookCon’s errors in judgment.)
What I want to say, as a reader, and as a person unconnected with the book industry (except to the extent I fund them with my frequent trips to the neighborhood bookstore), is this: of all industries out there, I’d have expected better from the book industry. I’d have expected this industry to be the most open, the most diverse, the most willing to listen to criticism. Isn’t that what books are all about – to open our perspectives, to allow us to see the world through different eyes, to let us live as others do for a little while? Isn’t an all-male, lily-white lineup of celebrities completely missing the point?
Diversity is important. And it’s not just racial diversity that we demand. We want to hear voices of women, voices of those born and raised in other states and other countries, voices of those from different backgrounds, different religions, different ages, different fields of study and work, different points of view. We want all perspectives, and from a major event like BookCon, we don’t just want this. We expect it. There is no experience, no work, no discussion, that is not enriched by the addition of new and different voices, with new and different things to add. That is reality. We sort of thought you would know that, BookCon, but evidently you don’t. Evidently, there are still people who need to be told about diversity.
So, let’s talk.
Have you been following the BookCon controversy? What do you think?
*Don’t get me wrong. I think there are plenty of people from other generations who value diversity and don’t need to be told that it’s a positive and important thing. I’ve worked with plenty of them. But my personal experience is as a member of Generation Y, so that’s the perspective from which I write this. I do think that Gen-Y, and much of X, were the first generations to come to their diversity values organically, by growing up thinking, “Well, obviously.” But please feel free to disagree with me – let’s just all be respectful.
**Since this is one of the more controversial posts I’ve done, it warrants saying (and this might be obvious, too): this post represents my personal opinions and is not written on behalf of my employer (an organization I do not identify here, in any event, because this is a personal blog). And this should go without saying, but just in case: no part of this post is intended as legal advice.
Mother Goose is a large, aggressive bird who sips tea and haunts children’s dreams. This is something you might not know about geese, but it’s true. They are angry, violent birds with a talent for making up terrifying rhymes. That’s why, when my mom asked me what I would like to talk about for National Poetry Month, I picked Mother Goose. Because what is the point of poetry if it’s not to make children cry and cling to their mothers? (Their real mothers, not their bird mothers. As a matter of fact, let’s get this one thing straight right now, before we go any further: Mother Goose, YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER.)
covered in flour 