Racism, revisionist history and white entitlement

Racism, revisionist history and white entitlement

I want to talk about racism, revisionist history and white entitlement. Specifically, as it relates to publishing, but also as a wider conversation.

One of the narratives that is regularly pushed in conversations about systemic racism is this idea that Black people owe white Americans because their ancestors fought to end slavery. Now, obviously, that's nonsense. But I want to talk about it, because despite us knowing that it's nonsense, a lot of people actually do feel that way when it comes down to it. They may not reference slavery specifically, but they are quick to point out all of the ways that they, their parents, and other white people, have stepped in to push progress forward.

I want to have a very honest conversation about that idea. Not because I think white people are never on the right side of history, but because I think we have a misconstrued idea of how liberation happens.

The uncomfortable truth is, white Americans are not responsible for Black liberation. They are not responsible for the end of slavery. Nor are they responsible for the victories of the civil rights movement or any push for liberation that has happened since. Did they participate in those movements? Absolutely. But if we are being honest, we would have to acknowledge that the primary reason white Americans began moving toward the right side of history was because Black people forced them to.

I promise all of this will relate to publishing, bear with me.

In school, we learn about Abraham Lincoln's efforts to end slavery and the resulting war that officially ended the practice. But what is ignored are the centuries of Black people forcing the issue. The many rebellions where enslaved Black people fought against their own oppression with no one in their corner. The activists who were slaughtered in their quest for understanding. The poets and singers and writers who shoved our story into the faces of white Americans and demanded that they not look away. What is ignored is the way that civil rights leaders not only demanded freedom, but forced their oppressors to kill them in the open, instead of behind closed doors, thereby forcing every day white Americans to SEE the consequences of their inaction and actually feel the weight of their complicity.

Yes, white Americans participated in liberation movements, but only after being liberated from the ignorant and bigoted worldview that they would have otherwise spent the rest of their lives forcing on their children.

Black liberation has always come at the cost of Black blood and been won because of the efforts of Black people.

Why does that matter for our conversations about publishing (and the world that we live in)?

Because, just like every other conversation about systemic barriers, we are surrounded by people who are expecting us to cater to--and be grateful to--white readers who are "creating change", when in reality, it is once again Black art that is forcing the rest of our society to wake up to just how limited the world they are building really is.

We have spent years demanding better from an industry that feels that our call for change is actually ungrateful whining. We see this every day. Not just in the way that major publishers refuse to meaningfully support their Black authors, but also in the way that readers respond whenever we ask them to consider the way they consume literature. When we challenge racism in their favorite books, we are too woke. When we ask them to consider adding Black books to their TBR, we are being discriminatory. When we suggest that there are genres and tropes that lean into anti-blackness, we are taking reading too seriously. At every opportunity, white readers are pointing to successful Black authors as proof that things have changed and demanding that we be grateful that we are even allowed in the spaces they built for themselves.

And I am not saying any of this because I do not appreciate white readers, or white people. I do. Greatly. I appreciate every single person who invests in this community and who invests in the authors I care so much about. The point I am trying to make is that the progress we are after has always been in our own hands. There is not coming a point where these major publishers wake up and realize that it is in their best interests to give Black authors their focus and resources. Because unfortunately, it's not really in their best interests. Literature has a significant impact on the development of our society and like all other massive corporations, it is in these publishers best interest to focus on art that doesn't push society toward dismantling the systems that keep capitalism on its throne.

This may sound dramatic but take a few minutes to think about it. Capitalism has not always been the driving motivation behind art. And it still isn't for most artists. But for major publishers to maintain their power, it has to be a driving force for them. Which means the industry, as it stands, will always resist any type of progress that challenges systemic oppression. Because capitalism will not survive the actual liberation of marginalized people.

This is one of the reasons I am so focused on the particular conversations that I regularly have. Because a lot of us don't realize just how high the stakes are. Creating space for Black authors doesn't just affect Black authors. Because in order to achieve that, we have to challenge systemic barriers that keep money in very rich people's pockets and keep everyone from progress.

I think if there's one thing I want you to take away from this particular blog it is that systemic racism is not arbitrary. These companies aren't resisting Black progress because they don't like Black books. It is not even because they don't like Black people. It is because Black progress threatens the structures that empower everyone else. And this is important to recognize because you will often encounter people who believe they love Black people but will still never sacrifice their power to dismantle the systems that oppress us all.

Now, I want to be clear, it is not only Black people who are forced to face systemic barriers in this industry, or in other areas of our country/world. Indigenous people and other people of color also face these barriers. As do queer people, women, disabled people, etc. The list goes on. Systemic barriers affect many of us in one way or another. But I am talking specifically about Black liberation because that is my experience and because historically, Black liberation has opened the door for others to win their own freedoms as well. I care about progress for all of us.

In publishing, specifically, I am convinced that progress is going to require us shifting our efforts from pressuring major publishers to work against their own agenda to empowering Black (and other marginalized) people to successfully create our own spaces. And more importantly, our own spaces that are built from different motivations. Because Black capitalism also won't save us.

For us to bring change to this industry (and the society it influences), we have to develop a model for publishing that is about something other than winning the spoils of being successful at capitalism.

So what fuels us?

When I launched Left Unread, my primary goal was to create space for Black and brown authors. And that is still my primary goal. But the why is what I want to talk about.

I believe that literature, like all art, has the ability to deeply impact the fabric of society. Throughout history, literature has worked to reinforce ideologies that have shaped the world as we know it. Books have played a role in both liberating and oppressing societies. They have shaped the way we view the world and the rules we apply to it. Religion, politics, liberation movements, oppressive regimes... they all rely on the writer's pen to unite and to divide. And while there are aspects of that kind of devotion to the written word that are fueled by classism and white supremacy, art itself has always played a role in giving society its bones. Which terrifies me for the world we currently live in, where our society's most marginalized are systemically prevented from being fairly represented on bookshelves.

For me, Left Unread is less about our individual successes and more about challenging the barriers that keep Black and brown people from using our voices to contribute to the direction of the society we live in. I firmly believe that any society without adequate access to marginalized voices in ALL of the arts will almost certainly fall prey to every system of oppression our world was built to uphold.

Over the last six months I have had many people ask how I can still be focused on books while the world is crumbling and the truth is, I am determined to make a difference in this industry precisely because the world is crumbling. Fighting for the arts matters and that is why this community matters so much to me.

With that said, I hope that my thoughts here have made sense. And as always, I want you to be a part of everything we are fighting for as a community. There are a few ways that you can be a part!

Subscribe to this Community: Right now, on top of all of the work we do to further conversations about the industry and to help shift the narrative about authors of color, our community is also committed to publishing Black and brown authors directly. With the backing, resources and support of Bindery Books, we are partnering with a couple of authors every single year and using our platforms and resources to ensure their work gets read by as many people as humanly possible.

Currently, we have the resources to release one or two books a year. But as our community grows, so does our capacity to champion authors. My goal is to grow this community to 10,000 subscribers in the next few months so that we can feasibly multiply the number of projects we can handle each year. So if you have not yet subscribed, please do so right now.

You can subscribe for free, or if you have the resources to invest $5, $12 or $25 a month into funding these projects and the work we do, you can subscribe at a paying tier and be a part of that process more directly. (It's worth noting that all of our paid subscribers get behind-the-scenes access to the publishing process and an early copy of all of our finished books. Additionally, our $12/$25 subscribers also get their name listed in every book we publish on a dedicated collaborators page.)

  • Also, between us, I have a VERY important announcement I want to share during our weekly Family Chat tomorrow. So if you are a paying subscriber, make sure you watch your email. I will be sharing a zoom link tomorrow morning! I look forward to seeing you at 7! Trust me... you want to be at this one.

Join our Bookclub: Every month, we read a different book by a Black or brown author together in our community discord. Our goal is not only to read more Black and brown books, but to use our book club as a platform to champion authors every single month. So not only are we reading the books together, but we are talking about them and helping to boost their sales. So if you want to help champion more authors, make sure that you sync your Bindery account to Discord and come join us on the server right away! You will get an exclusive role and gain immediate access to our community rooms and our book club rooms.

Pre-Order our Books: One of the primary ways that we intend to challenge barriers in this industry is by cultivating a community-centered publishing model. By publishing in community, we are ensuring that the authors we champion not only have support from us, as their publisher, but also from an entire community of people who are dedicated to helping them succeed. And one of the easiest and earliest ways to support our authors is to buy their books. Pre-Orders make a huge difference in early success, so go grab both of our upcoming books while they are available for pre-order:

  • Cry, Voidbringer is about a conscripted warrior who was taken from her home as a child and raised to fight in a neighboring nation's war against a fading colonial power. When Hammer--our FMC--comes across a young girl with devastating supernatural power, it becomes her job to keep her safe until she can be trained to become the Queen's next weapon in her own conquest. Only, Hammer doesn't want to be complicit in this young girl's oppression. But resisting will mean either running away and leaving her behind to suffer, staying and trying to reform a corrupt system that she has no power within, or turning her hammer on the Kingdom she has spent her life fighting for and tearing it all down. This is an anarchist dark fantasy having major conversations about colonialism and its impact on ethnic identity, the weight of our complicity in the oppression of others, and the inherent evil of empire.

  • Devil of the Deep is a Haitian fantasy about a mermaid, a notorious pirate and an ambitious navy captain who have to work together to take down an underwater cult of mermaids who are fighting to raise a sunken island and reshape the world in the image of their forgotten god. This is a scathing rebuke of Christian nationalism and its historical (and current) agenda to colonize the world and steal the voices and identities of the marginalized. But written into a thrilling fantasy with mermaids, pirates and a splash of spice.

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Michael

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Jul 16

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