As I troll through my various islands of internet camaraderie and outrage, I’m seeing the word “resistance” a lot. There is certainly a spewing plethora of negative impulses and cruelty and just plain stupidity out there that needs to be resisted in various ways.
Through the ages, writers and artists of various kinds have done been some of the most vocal resistors. Here’s a short Wikipedia entry on Resistance Literature. And here is a free pdf from JSTOR on the importance of literature as resistance.
Right now, we must resist a world that wants to erase differences and force conformity, that sees human beings not as equally valuable, but as objects that fit into a hierarchy of value depending on age, race, sex, gender identity, sexual orientation, economic status, religious beliefs, etc.
Representation is a good way to undermine the idea that differences should be minimized and hidden, or that not everyone has inherent value. Seeing different groups of people, and allowing different groups of people to see themselves reflected in art and media in positive ways is impactful. It’s also a way, as an artist, to resist a world that wants people who are different to be silent, invisible, or even just be gone.
But doing this isn’t enough – it has to be done well, or you can end up becoming part of the problem. Delving into the experiences of a strategically undervalued group requires either being part of the group, or having sensitively and thoroughly done the work to make sure you’re accurately representing them – which means making sure they have weighed in on your work. Stories that teach us about other cultures, other ways of living and being, hardships that people who are not like us face, etc., are valuable. Particularly in times where many people seem to have forgotten, or never learned, how to practice empathy and compassion.
However, there’s another element of representation. It also matters to not always confine a character to what it is that makes them part of an underrepresented group – i.e., you can have a disabled character whose storyline doesn’t revolve around the disability. Acknowledge it, but don’t center it. Have a character who happens to be gay, but whose gayness isn’t central to their arc.
Put a variety of different people into your stories, and let them be. Let them exist, and do things, and be part of the story without centering just one part of their identity. Embrace their holistic humanity.
Avoid character cliches and overused tropes. Don’t kill off the Black characters but let the white ones live. Don’t make the bi person be uber-promiscuous. Don’t have a disabled character exist purely to be inspiration porn. Don’t have the fat person be the comic relief or the sad friend who can’t get a date. Don’t have two women fall in love, then one of them dies. Don’t have a woman or feminine character who needs to be rescued by a man, or gives up on a dream or goal for the sake of a man. Don’t have the men in your stories always be hellbent on revenge, or world domination, or taking over the company. Etc.
Subvert the expectations. Collapse the binaries. Don’t allow your characters to become stereotypes. Avoid tokenism. Even if the story is centering on one aspect of a person’s identity, make sure that character has depth and doesn’t come across as a two-dimensional stand in for some sort of social commentary.
And definitely don’t obey in advance. Queer fiction may be targeted in the U.S. – that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop writing it or make my characters straight so I can get a book deal. We may be facing an era of increased censorship – that doesn’t mean we should stop creating and circulating.
Representation is an act of resistance. Give space to the people and groups that the hegemony of hatred and intolerance wants to shove back into closets and separate spaces or just eradicate entirely. Tell their stories, but also simply let them exist and be part of the worlds you create in meaningful ways.