CCBC-Net Archives

Some questions

From: DaneBauer at aol.com <DaneBauer>
Date: Thu, 28 Oct 1999 19:15:24 EDT

To introduce myself briefly, I am a children's writer. I have been writing books for children for over twenty-five years, and I have been following this past month's discussion with great interest and a rising concern. That concern was brought to the fore by the recent posting so carefully detailing the sources of some of the incidents used in the Dear America book set in an Indian boarding school. (I have forgotten the title as, though I have read thoroughly other discussions about the book posted elsewhere, I haven't read the book itself.) But this final complaint seems, at best, irrelevant, at worst, meanspirited. I do understand that this particular book has given deep offense. But I am left with two burning questions.
    First, how does a writer writing any kind of historical fiction use source material? Too many of the objections raised can only be based on the fact that the author has taken information from one source to another. If historical incidents cannot be taken from one written source to another, what do we have to work with? If the language is sometimes too close to its source, that is a failure on the part of the author to properly absorb her material, but who has been hurt by that failure? Why was it worth the time and energy of several people to detail every small slip in that regard?
    Second, is any negative depiction of a Native American character, as seen through the eyes of a white character, racism? Or is it, perhaps, a depiction of the ignorance of the white character? How does a white writer writing about a period when whites were moving onto Native lands present that historical period without also writing about the First Nation people being displaced? And if writing from the perspective of whites, how does he or she do that without also depicting the ignorance and racism of the white settlers? The balance, for a thoughtful, well-meaning writer, will come in showing the perspective of a character who has a more informed view, even if such an informed view was unlikely at the time. Pa, for instance, in the Little House series. But what I am hearing tells me that creating such a balance has no meaning. All that is remembered are the negatives.
    I am preparing to write a historical novel based on my own great-grandfather's having brought a colony from England to northwestern Minnesota in the 1870s. In preparation for the writing, I am reading as many original sources of the area and the time as I can find, both white and native. My point of view character will, of course, be white, because I am white, because that is the perspective I can inhabit authentically. But I can neither pretend that these people moved into an empty land nor can I present the native population without dealing with the limitations and the preconceptions and, yes, the racism of the settlers. The discussion I have been following gives me real pause. It seems there is no way I can take on this story without giving unintended offense, and that thought makes me sad.
    I do understand that this topic is a complex one, far more complex than this month's discussion, for all of our good intentions, can begin to encompass. I am a lesbian, so I, too, am from a marginalized group. What has been written about people like me?and perhaps even more to the point, not written about people like me?has impacted my life deeply. (I should say that I am 60 years old, so my history encompasses long years of both silence and written abuse.) But the failure of the world around me and the publishing world in particular to understand and accept my reality is an inevitable piece of our human difficulty with diversity. I applaud the gains heterosexuals are making in understanding and acceptance. I have worked hard to add to those gains. But I will not let my life be focused either on anger or regret for what my society did not know in the past and still struggles to understand.
    I have grown weary over the seemingly endless battle over who can authentically write what. My simple?and perhaps simplistic?answer is, "Judge the work, not the author." But I find it ironic that a new complaint is being raised these days over the fact that children's books are not properly
"integrated," that white authors are too apt to present only white characters. I can only say, why is anyone surprised?

Marion Dane Bauer
Received on Thu 28 Oct 1999 06:15:24 PM CDT