Growing up, I read like crazy. My book lust was so overwhelming that I actually wanted to be the protagonists. And since I never saw myself reflected in these heroines, I’d picture myself as the black version of my favorite characters. In my head, I was a black Ramona in Beverly Cleary’s classic children’s books (with a cuter hairdo). I was a sexy, ruthless Lucky Santangelo (yes, I hid Jackie Collins novels under my mattress). I was a black Scarlett O’Hara, breaking Civil War–era hearts in Gone With the Wind (several layers of problematic, but I was 11!). It was weird. I was surrounded by fascinating black girls in real life. But reading most of American fiction, you’d think we were invisible.
Why Aren’t There More Black Women in Fiction?
More from Social JusticeMore posts in Social Justice »
- According To A Historic Labor Board Decision — Employees Have A Right To Express Support For Black Lives Matter While They’re On The Job
- 40 Acres And A Mule And Beyond
- Sustaining A Movement For Social Change
- A Closer Look At Colleges’ Efforts To Increase Racial Diversity
- To Be Black in Trump’s America: American Carnage
Be First to Comment