By Jaquelin Bautista
The following article was featured in the March 2020 edition of The Campus.
It’s important toshare people’s experiences to raise awareness about the obstacles they face.However, some argue that there is a point at which the circulation of storiesdesensitizes the public to the true suffering they depict. This pivotal pointspecifically concerns communities of color that have limited opportunity toshare their stories and often have their journey told by outsiders, filteredthrough an Anglo perspective, and thus, effectively whitewashed. Theseconversations are being had now regarding the circulation of stories depictingsuffering in the media to benefit off adversity and generate buzz and socialmedia attention, otherwise known as “TraumaPorn.”
Trauma porn is told and sold in many differentmediums: books, news, movies, television, speeches, and advertisements. Acontemporary example is seen in the 2020 novel American Dirt, astory about Mexican migrants fleeing the cartel, which has author JeanineCummins in the hot seat. The book caused controversy following the revelationthat Cummins was, in fact, a white author, attempting to tell an authenticimmigrant narrative (emphasis on ‘attempting’). The outrage begot a discussionof who is and is not allowed to tell whose stories? Even Oprah, who not longbefore had proudly announced American Dirt as the next bookfor her book club, has come out and publicly stated that while she would notchange her selection, she would instead take the opportunity to have a meaningfuldiscussion of ownership and agency in storytelling, especially as it pertainsto the story of minority populations.
Similarly, the Netflix original LivingUndocumented, produced by Selena Gomez, Aaron Saidman, and EliHolzman, has come under fire. The series, which aimed to return humanity to thedebate on immigration, has been revealed as another situation of trauma porn.The undocumented community depicted in the series came out and blasphemed theinjustice the series was doing by telling the stories of undocumented peoplewithout including them in the process. Medium subsequentlypublished “An Open Letter from Undocumented Filmmakers to the Producersof Living Undocumented and the Broader Media Industry”, whichshowcased messages exchanged between producers of Living Undocumented andthe undocumented immigrants who were not asked to participate. In oneparticular conversation, in which producers were asked to consider anundocumented filmmaker for the project, the response was pretty blatant: “Asfor your question about hiring an undocumented filmmaker, I don’t think that isan option for this project.”
Often, the journeys and stories of undocumentedimmigrants are shared by members outside of the community. That is not to saythere are not undocumented producers or filmmakers putting out work that isauthentic and just as captivating. Look no further than Armando Ibañez’s UndocumentedTales and documentaries such as Tam Tran. The unfortunatereality though, is that there are still limited outlets that undocumentedimmigrants are permitted to invest their talents, and when they do producetheir work, they garner exponentially less media attention and public praise incomparison to the big names and the white noise.
Even films such as The Color Purple bySteven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino’s Jackie Brown areexamples of other black stories told by non-black producers andfilmmakers.
So, the question remains, who gets to tell thesestories?
Cummins had recognized that her book was not her story to tell. She stated, “I worried that, as a non-migrant and non-Mexican, I had no business writing a book set almost entirely in Mexico, set entirely among migrants. I wished someone slightly browner than me would write it.” She continues, “But then, I thought, if you’re a person who has the capacity to be a bridge, why not be a bridge?” Though Cummins brings up an interesting perspective on writing this particular narrative and the many hours she spent researching both sides of the border is applaudable, this response is still constructed, at its foundation, using a white savior ideology. Furthermore, it denies the existence of a multitude of books and other media about the immigrant journey written by actual Latinx individuals. Unknown thus far as they, like many others, remain stuck in the shadows and left behind the curtains in favor of books such as Cummins’ and because of responses such as her own above. Again, the problem is not the lack of content but the lack of publicity for these same pieces of work. These conversations begin to gain complexity as one begins to discuss representation. Youtuber, “Bowties and Books” describes her experience growing up with a limited number of stories told from a black perspective, stating that she either had to read adult books (which were too mature for her to understand) just to be provided with a black narrative, or stick to reading the children’s books, which only depicted white kids. This point continues to be brought up in Hollywood as seen in the controversy that seems to constantly surround the Oscars’ consistent lack of representation and recognition for black filmmakers and storytellers. In 2020 however, there is hope that progress is being made with “Hair Love” receiving an Oscar for Best Animated Short Film, which not only stands as an honor to a black artist, Matthew A. Cherry, the writer, and director but also provides children with the narratives they deserve.
The question that should be in the conversation is not, who is allowed to tell these stories? But rather, where are the black and brown storytellers? Here they are:
Wendy C. Ortiz Elain Welteroth
Gustavo Arellano Luis J. Rodriguez
Ana Castillo Rolando Hinojosa
Guadalupe Garcia McCall Juan Felipe Herrera
Erika L. Sanchez Cherrie Moraga
Maya Angelou Yaa Gyasi
Glory Edim Helen Oyeyemi
Kiley Reid Abu Dare
Jacqueline Woodson Terry McMillan
ZZ Packer Imbolo Mbue
Mat Johnson
Notonly is it crucial to include these stories in the media and give storytellersproper recognition, but there should also be a shift in the academic readingmaterial provided to children and a definitive rethinking of the literarycanon. This change is not only necessary insofar as it allows black and brownkids to see themselves represented, but also encourages non-black or brownchildren to hear and understand diverse perspectives and engage in conversationabout them.
Sharingstories of adversity can desensitize the public to these conversations. When weallow the narrative to be led by black and brown bodies, then we return thepower to these underserved and underrepresented communities that are facing toomuch adversity, to begin with.
