Own Voices: Reclaiming Time on the Page Part II

Jason Tougaw

On September 24, 2017, writer and activist Justina Ireland wrote a review of the YA novel, American Heart by Laura Moriarity. Her review, entitled  “American Heart, Huck Finn and the Trap of White Supremacy” is critical of Moriarity’s choice, as a white author, to write a narrative about the American-Muslim experience with a white protagonist.  When Kirkus gave the novel a starred review, Ireland brought her critique to Twitter (the original tweet is no longer available).

A social media firestorm ensued, with many in the YA fandom world storming Twitter and Goodreads to denounce the novel as upholding racist stereotypes, white savior narratives, and undermining Muslim agency. When Kirkus removed the starred review in response to the outcry, Laura Moriarity responded to the criticism in a Facebook post. She had harsh words for the “group profiled in Kat Rosenfeld’s” article, referring of course to the mostly women of color demanding equality in publishing on social media platforms. Moriarty blames this group for the loss of her starred review.

American Heart tells the story of a fifteen-year-old Sarah-Mary Williams of Hannibal, Missouri living in a future America where the government forces all Muslims to live in internment camps. Through her friendship and journey with Sadaf, a Muslim man who is a fugitive from the camps, Sarah-Mary changes her perspectives on race and bigotry. If this narrative trajectory seems familiar that’s because it so is.  From Ireland’s review, “American Heart is, page for page, a blatant homage to Huck Finn, even right down to the fake homespun/simple country voice the main character Sarah-Mary uses.”

Is this a white-savior narrative? You know a white savior story, even if you don’t know that you do. It goes like this: non-white person is in need of rescue from any manner of unfortunate circumstance — racism, poverty, unobtanium–and are unable to save themselves. Enter benevolent white character, often also the protagonist, who saves the poor non-whites from their circumstances and sometimes, even from themselves. What if Sadaf was the protagonist? What if HarperTeen had given the opportunity to an author who identifies as Muslim to tell their story about their community and their people?

This is not the first time a novel has come under fire in the YA community for problematic approaches to issues of race, gender and identity, however, this is the first time an author has fought back.  In this case, the author cried censorship but then removed comments on her page from Muslim readers and other dissenting voices. Her response drew support from right ring publications such as The National Review and white supremacist users on Twitter who spoke out in support of her novel and against the rabid “social justice warriors” and “snowflakes” who had supposedly worked themselves into a frenzy over a non-issue. To be clear, there is no indication that Moriarity welcomes this support, but she has it nonetheless.

Many of the think pieces and essays written in response to the controversy in support of Moriarity argue that her ability to write about any content matter is a matter of freedom of speech. They deemphasize the effect of Moriarity’s book on marginalized readers. In the lead up to her novel’s publication, Moriarity situated herself as a champion of free speech battling the censorious mob.

Writers Sona Charaipotra and Zoraida Cordova wrote a rebuttal to writer Kat Rosenfeld’s article, “The Toxic Drama on YA Twitter” entitled, “How YA Twitter is Trying to Dismantle White Supremacy, One Book at a Time.” Justina Ireland, quoted in the article commented, “The problem in the YA community isn’t criticism, whether vitriolic or benign. It’s the systemic exclusion of the stories of marginalized groups as told by marginalized creators,” and continues “any article that aims to tell the full truth of the YA community and doesn’t address the hefty price creators of color, especially women of color, pay in just existing in such a space is missing what truly makes YA toxic. It isn’t vocal criticism. It’s the same racism we’ve seen continually rear its ugly head since forever.”

Ultimately, whether you find Ireland and her supporters to be overzealous, one goal in YA publishing should undoubtedly be the uplifting voices silenced by white supremacy and pervasive patriarchy. It is crucial for young readers to see themselves reflected in the literature they read. It is crucial for the publishing world to deliver on that need. Statistics on diversity in publishing indicate that there is still a long way to go.

A year after #WeNeedDiverseBooks launched, another hashtag emerged:

#OwnVoices seeks to amplify and encourage diverse work written by authors of the same marginalized identity. It reclaims the voices of the voiceless. #OwnVoices and #WeNeedDiverseBooks are working towards the same goal, diversity in publishing. Because as of today, publishing remains overwhelmingly white, cis-gendered and able-bodied. Readers and writers in the margins of society and social media see these hashtags, and others, as a rallying cry and a banner to stand with and behind, something greater than themselves.