How to tell your own authentic stories while also supporting marginalized voices

As an author, I believe that I have a responsibility to create diverse works that do not present the world as a one-dimensional space where only certain people are welcome to exist. This can be a tricky balancing act for a white writer like myself. I want my novels to be diverse, but I also do not want to unknowingly reinforce stereotypes that I may not be aware of. I do not want to cross the line into cultural appropriation or telling stories about experiences that may not align with my own. For the past few years, I have been taking an #ownvoices approach to this subject, and I feel like I have learned a lot from the experience.

My novel If You Didn’t See It Coming is an example of an #ownvoices book even though people of color are not at the forefront of the story. It’s an accounting of marginalized characters (namely women) involved in domestic violence situations, many of which are inspired by my own experiences with a violent abuser. Although the characters are fictional, and their stories are not a retelling of my own story, it still illustrates the struggles of a marginalized group of people.

Because I was telling the story from my own perspective, the main characters are all white. There is very little intersectionality of identities because I was telling the story from the perspective of a cis white woman. However, I did consider representation and intersectionality while writing the novel. I considered making my main characters more diverse, but I didn’t feel right about trying to write what I consider to be someone else’s story.

As a writer with a rampant imagination, I can try to imagine what it might be like to be a woman of color or a trans woman experiencing domestic violence, but I personally believe that I should allow the people with those identities to tell their stories for themselves. Some of you may disagree with me on this point, but I simply do not feel comfortable writing other people’s stories. In my opinion, the domestic violence experience of a cis white woman will not be the same as that of a woman of color, a trans woman, or even a cis white man. I can only tell a domestic violence story from one perspective: my own.

Authors like Stephanie Land (Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay, and a Mother’s Will to Survive, which has been adapted for Netflix) are often criticized for telling the hard luck stories of white women. However, in this case Land was telling her own story, and that was the story of a cis white woman. The problem in this situation is not that Land failed to tell the story from someone else’s non-white perspective but that she is in a position of power that allows her story visibility when stories told from diverse perspectives have none. The solution is not to force white writers to tell the stories of marginalized people but to instead make space for marginalized people to tell their own stories.

I’m not saying that white writers don’t have to worry about diversifying their writing. We still have a responsibility to not hog the whole stage. Even if your main characters are always white, there are many things you can do to provide visibility to the stories of marginalized people without appropriating their stories for yourself. For example, you can:

1. Consider and acknowledge your privilege within your stories: In If You Didn’t See It Coming, my character Carrie struggles to support her children as an only parent. I show you how difficult her life is, but I also considered what it must be like for other women who are experiencing the same difficulties she experiences but with the added burden of additional marginalized identities. I made sure there were scenes where Carrie acknowledges that she has it easy in comparison to others in her similar situation might. I don’t try to minimize her hardships in any way. But I do make it clear just how much harder her life could be with a complex intersectional identity. I currently believe that this simple acknowledgement of privilege by white characters is the single best way that I can tell my authentic stories while also acknowledging that other stories exist that may not reflect my own experiences.
2. “Punching up” in your own work: There’s a huge difference between bullying those who are stuck beneath you in the power structure and “punching up” at those above you (or on the same rung of the ladder on the way to the top). In my latest novel, One Bad Cat, I had a lot of fun writing cis white men as I see them from my lower rung. Me writing from their perspective is not the same as me trying to write the stories of marginalized individuals. Rather than trying to embody them as they see themselves, I tried to illustrate how their actions make them appear to those who they consider to be “beneath them.”
3. Supporting #ownvoices stories: In Maid, Land tells the story of how she not only made it out of her abusive situation but also made her way to a college writing program that put her on a clear path to visibility that is often blocked to those with complex intersectional identities. Land’s story is visible because of the advantages she had that set her up with a better chance to succeed than others might have. She overcame a lot. She worked hard to get where she is. No one who has read her story thinks she didn’t. However, her identity as a cis white woman helped her not only overcome these hardships but it also placed her in a position to make her voice heard over others.
4. Opening yourself to criticism: While I’m punching up in my fiction writing, I am well aware that there are writers out there who have every right to punch up at me on my high rung. I do my best to remain open to criticism that will help me be a better person. I admit that I have said and done things in the past that have unwittingly hurt other people. I often did not realize that I was hurting people until much later after reading an #ownvoices novel that showed me how ignorant I was am. I simply can not stand the thought that I am going around hurting people without realizing it, and I know that it is my responsibility to educate myself so I can do better. Part of that includes listening when people tell me that I messed up.

Representation in entertainment is a topic I have made a conscious effort to understand for years, and my thoughts on how to deal with it have evolved along with my understanding of how marginalized groups are impacted by underrepresentation and misrepresentation in all forms of media. What I am presenting to you here today is my opinion on the matter today, but my opinion will likely continue to evolve as I continue to learn and grow. As such, I am welcome to hearing your thoughts on this topic, especially if you disagree with me. Please comment (respectfully) below if you feel I am misdirected or could use a bit more education on a certain point. I know I’m no expert on this subject, so I am open to learning from those who are.