Representing Biracial Black South American Experiences…Through a White/Asian Mixed Race Character in Europe
@colombinna asked:
I have a YA story that's in very early development - pre-alpha, if you will. For now what I have developed is the characters: one of the MCs is a biracial asian queer girl (her dad is thai-american and japanese, her mom's white), she has a medium/dark brown skin, and lives in a very white context in a fictional European country. The contact she has with her extended family is limited to phone calls and regular visits because her dad moved from the US to said fictional European country.
I'm a biracial black queer girl myself, living in a very white community in South America, my extended black family also lives in a different place, and I'm taking a lot of my experiences of being not white and queer whilst living in white communities into her story (the feeling of not belonging, the impostor syndrome, standing out as one of the only POC kids in class, etc) and thinking back to what I've heard asian friends and classmates say about their experiences in the same school/community context as mine. But I want to know how different her experiences as a dark-skinned asian girl would differ from mine and my friends' in a similar context (white community, small number of other asian people - and POC in general - in the social circles, and limited contact to her extended family), and what experiences could make sense if the character was biracial black like myself, but won't if she's biracial asian.
Why not write a biracial Black girl if those are the experiences you want to represent?
This MC is straddling, like, 3 different cultures. Having multiple immigrant identities in not-Europe is not the same experience as being Black in South America; while both are complex minority experiences, there are too many differences in intersections and histories to compare. Not to mention, it really depends on what European culture(s) you’re basing your not-Europe on.
I think you’ll find that the written result will ring much more genuine and rich in depth if you either translate your experiences more directly or pick a more narrow focus, instead of assuming that there is a universal for racism and colorism against biracial people that is transferable across contexts. Because there isn’t. There can be overlaps, but if you’re looking to cover the entire range of What It’s Like in general, it won’t work.
This isn’t to say that people can’t use other identities to write about specific experiences of their own, but in this case you need to think about what story you want to tell and what your reasons are. Marika’s commentary will go more into when and how this can be done effectively.
Also, if the point is to make her a dark-skinned Asian, as a white/asian mix myself, I implore you: why must you make her 1/4 Japanese and 1/2 white? Even with the Thai ethnicity thrown in, Thai people very much range in skin tone and have their own domestic issues with colorism. It’s not impossible for dark-skinned examples of your MC’s ethnic makeup to exist, but still I don’t recommend it for two reasons:
It's going to make researching people whose experiences fit that much more difficult. Most experiences of colorism, othering, and other forms of discrimination that mixed white asians tend to face are completely different from mixed race asians who tend to have darker skin & features.
There's enough Japanese & white mixed Japanese rep in the Asian rep sphere as is. Consider that this individual could be mixed Asian (not Japanese) with something else (not white)!
But again, think over your motivations. I’ll spare you the copy/paste of our Motivations PSA, but re-read it and consider. Why do you wish to write a mixed Asian character to tell the story of your experiences as a mixed Black individual instead of a mixed Black character? What does it add to the story? Is it an effective vessel for the experiences you want to convey?
~ Rina
I think Rina brings up some good points here: I’m not hearing a lot of specificity in your query. As you doubtless know firsthand, the more intersectional and complex an identity, the more of a chance the identity may come with unexpected baggage and nuances that fly in the face of what is common sense for less intersectional identities. This can make writing such characters challenging just because there is so much choice on which identity themes to emphasize.
I once spent about 15 minutes explaining to a person the thought process I used to determine when I could wear jeans depending on which country I was living in as a mixed race person who is perceived as different things in different places. It might seem trivial, but it’s actually very important to me for the purposes of identity, safety and gender presentation, so I personally think it’s interesting. But will my readers think a character’s multi-page internal monologue on whether or not to wear jeans is especially compelling? Does the writer-version of me want to research the version of myself musing on my specific jeans conundrum to that extent? Or do I want to talk about other things related to attire a lot of other people would relate to? I think those are all YMMV questions, but hopefully, they provide some perspective that will help you be intentional about how you might want to tackle something potentially very time-consuming.
When I say intentional, I mean that when covering a complex identity with which you are peripherally familiar, it will always be more effective and easier to use it to tell a specific story extremely clearly than to be extremely broad in scope and try to include almost everything about your own experiences, especially because some of those experiences might not be as relevant for your character’s background as they are to yours.
One of my favorite childhood picture books is written and illustrated by a Nikkei writer-illustrator team. The book is titled Ashok by Any Other Name (link). The story features a desi child growing up in the US who wishes he had an American name his friends and teachers wouldn’t think was strange. It covers how being othered for his name makes him feel, and how he copes with that feeling. Speaking as someone both Japanese and desi, I think through the plot device of names perceived by the majority of Americans as foreign, this book aptly shows how many immigrant/diaspora creators are capable of relating to the pressures of assimilation experienced by other immigrant, even if the creator, the audience and the story’s subject’s backgrounds all don’t completely overlap 100%.
There will be aspects of your Blackness, mixed identity, skin color, sexuality and living in a local community lacking diversity as a member of many minority groups that you will find resemble/ resonate with the experiences of mixed-race, Japanese individual in a Europe-themed setting, and I think any story that leans into those themes will be considerably easier for you to research. In other words, instead of asking us “How does my experience differ?” I would approach this issue by deciding what narrative you want to show about your own experience and then research the specific contexts within which your desired story overlaps with elements of mixed-race Japanese experiences.
- Marika.
387 notes
·
View notes
This, I hope, will eventually be posted on ao3 as a proper fic – current draft title is exhumation — but just in case it will not, gonna post it here and let it stew
Canon Divergence AU with secret Identity and later identity reveal drama
(also this involves the backstory from the Ghost comic because I vaguely remember reading it when I was in high school…)
Soap and Ghost meet before they become Soap and Ghost. Johnny is 20, Ghost is 25, and they’re stationed around the same place but different squads — somewhere not far away from Manchester — and they don’t know they’re both from SAS. They meet when Tommy tries to be supportive of Simon’s newly announced queerness and takes him out to a gay bar on Canal Street. Tommy is the one to chat up Johnny (while Simon, obviously not a fan of crowds or loud places, hides away in the bathroom) with ‘see, my brother this and that’ and ‘if you give my brother a chance, he will this and that’. Believe it or not, once Simon strolls back in with all his social awkwardness, Johnny is actually charmed. Things roll around for a couple of months before they admit to each other they’re in the armed forces.
By the time they find out Simon is of higher rank, they’re already gone for each other. They decide to keep going anyway — it’s legal, as of 2001, and they’re not planning on getting a civil partnership for a while, anyway, so in the end, they keep going. Simon changes his next of kin on file to Johnny, they ‘share’ a flat off base, and Johnny’s met Simon’s mum and brother. He more or less knows the lore of the Riley family, mostly how much of a piece of shite his father was and Tommy’s recently fought addiction, and somehow, Simon feels alive for the first time in his life.
It’s all going so perfect, they’ve been together for almost two years, which isn’t long for most, but feels like forever when you’re in the military. Johnny gives him a ring, a sterling silver one with thistle ornaments and a small garnet centre stone. It’s not a proposal, they can’t get married legally, and they won’t have anything but Simon’s will binding them legally for as long as they’re both in the forces — Simon doesn’t know it, but there’s a matching simple band waiting to slide in with the ring he’s got on his tags, and one day, Johnny plans for him to have a full set.
Simon and his team get send out, Simon tells him it’s going to be a long one, somewhere in one of the Americas — Central or South, if he had to guess by all the self-learning Spanish books that cluttered Simon’s bedside table — and Johnny, well, he’s got a bad feeling but when does he not, with their jobs?
Simon’s team gets back, partially. There’s talk about betrayal from his captain, and he’s painfully absent, Simon’s friends look half-dead and act half-dead and no one is telling Johnny anything. He spends his afternoons with Simon’s mum, taking care of her as best as he can while Simon is gone, even though it was never the plan, and dodges Tommy’s aggressive questions, because he knows goddamn nothing.
Johnny doesn’t give up. He waits.
Simon is gone six months — MIA, officially, but KIA in the words of anyone from the brass — when he emerges back from South America, giving Johnny a new heart and a new life. He comes back different, but Johnny doesn’t care, it’s Simon, it’s still him, and maybe there’s something dead in his eyes, and maybe he spaces out more often than not, and maybe he feels cold in Johnny’s arms, and maybe he doesn’t sleep in the same bed, but it’s still Simon, he just needs to heal and figure out how to keep on living.
And Simon tries — he’s got episodes every day, than every other day, than every week, every other week. He goes to therapy, he spends his days cooking with his mum, spends his days cleaning the whole of their flat again and again, spends his days wandering around Manchester, buying Johnny’s favourite drinks, favourite books, favourite breakfast babs.
He tells Johnny bits and pieces, about what happened, enough that Johnny can put it together in a horrifying if blurred picture, and things start to improve, slowly.
He comes back to their bed. He wakes up before Johnny, makes him breakfast, kisses him on the forehead and struggles with the crosswords from the newspapers he picked on his morning run. He goes out with his former teammates, very short trips but trips nonetheless. He stops being afraid to be alone with his nephew, stops being afraid he'll hurt him. He never quite gets used to the scars, covering them more often than not, not wanting the looks.
Second week of December, ten months after he was brought back to the UK from North America, his psychiatrist signs him off for a phased return to duty. No deployments, only base and training site duties, regular sessions with both the psychiatrist and the psychology for the first four months.
Johnny hasn’t seen his family since before Simon gone MIA — finally feeling okay-ish, Simon tells him to go Scotland for Christmas. He’s got his mum, his brother, his sister-in-law and his nephew, and he’s, weirdly, feeling almost optimistic about life.
Obviously, he can’t be happy for long and shit hits the fan.
On Christmas Day, Johnny gets a call from Greater Manchster Police. He and his sister drive down the country and in the early morning of the Boxing Day, Johnny is showed the tags with the familiar silver ring on it, sooted at the edges and slightly misshapen, melted.
Fifteen minutes after he identifies Simon’s body, they tell him he killed his whole family, probably in a PTSD induced episode, then set their house on fire and killed himself right after, when the trauma-haze went down. They tell him he was lucky not to be there when it happened.
Johnny doesn’t believe it. Simon’s mind’s been bad, but it’d always turn on Simon, not on others, he had too much control to let any episode take him over so much. So he doesn’t care what the police or the public says — he arranges the funeral and Simon is buried with the rest of his family.
Meanwhile, Simon goes on a rampage in Mexico. He kills everyone and anyone he even suspects to be involved with Roba’s people. He leaves a trail of dead people behind him for weeks until finally, the US military catches up — General Shepherd catches up and identifies him. The British Army doesn't know what to do with him — officially, he's dead already, the General Register Office has already issued his death certificate to his NOK, the armed forces had condemned his family's tragedy. His existence is…inconvenient. He is suspected to be either compromised or too unstable to be of use to the Army, even if SAS sees how valuable someone who could single-handedly destroy a whole cartel family and fake his own death could be.
Enter John Price, who had met Simon during SAS selection and had a bit too soft of a heart. There's a mural agreement — Price will take personal responsibility to keep him on a leash, at least until he proves he is not a liability, and he will remain dead on paper but active in the Army. No one is to know he is alive — not even Johnny, or maybe especially Johnny, who will be the last person anyone will see as a revenge method. Simon Riley's name is redacted from all available documents.
And thus, Ghost, a nameless lieutenant and a walking cautionary tale, is born.
The only thing Ghost has not predicted is that eventually, almost six years after he put Simon into the grave, Johnny will join the 141.
And somehow, Ghost is just Johnny's type, again.
135 notes
·
View notes