Don't miss Linda Sue Park's
thought-provoking response to the notion of a "race neutral" character.
This issue first came up for us at the CCBC back in July of 2001 when we discussed Virginia Euwer Wolff's
Make Lemonade and
True Believer on CCBC-Net. We hosted quite a lively discussion about the race of the main characters -- it's never specified in the books but many readers assumed that LaVaughn was African-American, and argued the point quite assertively.
But then, ten days into our discussion, Linda Sue Park responded with a most perceptive and personal comment:
I was 'fortunate' in a way not to have read Make Lemonade until recently and so read
the two books back to back. I couldn't put either of them down, and I am certain
that ML has earned a place on my list of books that come back to haunt me years
after I have read them. (Going somewhat against what I see as the grain, I preferred
the first book for its more unusual plot line.)
That first graph of this post was easy to write. Now for the difficult bit. (deep
breath) The least satisfying part of both books to me was the race question. I am
not black, but as a nonwhite I can attest that my race is an everyday issue. For
Asians such as myself, it has negative ramifications far less often than for blacks
in daily U.S. life, but not a day passes that I do not confront the question in some
form. This is perhaps the single most difficult aspect for those of the majority
complexion to understand: There may be moments or even hours when my Asianness is
not at the surface of my thoughts, but NEVER a whole day, much less weeks or months.
I am struck by the number of readers who said that the question of race 'didn't
matter to them' and would be very curious to know if readers across the racial
spectrum felt that way.
Therefore, as the first book unfolded and race was never mentioned, what it meant to
me was that LaVaughn could only be white. Yet in the choice of her name and other
story details, I perceived that the author's intent may have been to allow the
reader to 'decide' her race, which for me indicates confusion or misunderstanding as
to the importance of race in the life of nonwhites. What I am trying to say, and
perhaps saying badly, is that a white girl and a black girl (or a white girl and an
Asian girl) can have similar experiences and do have emotional responses in common,
but in this day and place cannot be one and the same person.
When the Horn Book interview confirmed that the source of my discomfort had been an
actual authorial strategy I was deeply dismayed. It seemed to me not so much a
granting of power to the reader as an unwillingness to confront the question. I can 'salvage' my response on this level only by seeing the strategy as an attempt to
concentrate on the humanity we all share (as others have commented), and still I
find it upsetting to completely ignore the question of race if LaVaughn is to be 'read' as black. There are many fine examples of books about nonwhites in which race
is not the central issue, and these titles could certainly have that potential.
I have been very glad to read of the reactions of others to these books in this
forum. While the books are flawed for me for the above reason, I understand that
others may see the flaw as a strength, and I will forever admire the powerful use of
language and the portrayal of much of LaVaughn's interior life.
I think back to her comment often, whenever I am confronted with the notion of a "race neutral" character or "
casual diversity." Thanks to Linda Sue Park, I have come to recognize this as one more idea I need to unpack from my invisible backpack of white privilege.
