Tag Archives: writers of color

Sky’s the Limit: On Bourdain, Memoir, and the Pitfalls and Potential of Travel Lit

Hey People,

Happy Pride! I’m here, I’m queer, let’s get into this new update.

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Bustle is running a series called Have Books, Will Travel, featuring essays by non-normative travel writers on the genre, so of course you know I had some things to say. I wanted to focus on how this genre is crafted in such a way to weed out commentary that isn’t 100% sunny, as in, of a leisurely or commercial nature, and how that can suppress certain necessary stories and voices. Writing memoir should seemingly rectify that, since it’s all about being vulnerable, having perspective, and being reflective of one’s actions. But let’s be real—we can do better.

Travel writers lie to themselves and their readers when they front like visiting a place makes them authorities on it, because the average white American doesn’t know many people from that place, but does have a few friends who went there once. They lie when they add a touch of self-deprecation to their stories, because humility seems smart in hindsight, and because all those people who witnessed them being annoying tourists are still in that place far away and can’t attest that these tourists haven’t learned sh*t. And too often, travel writers lie when they write like race, gender, and class are foreign concepts that exist outside of the scope of travel writing when they’re actually located at the heart of it.

I originally wrote the paragraph above using “we” instead of “they” but it was changed, and now I wonder if the hate I’ve gotten for writing this would be less so if those who are allergic to conversations about race and travel had read the original. But I immediately know the answer is no. Race is just one aspect of this dialogue and this essay isn’t even about whiteness or racism so if for some reason you feel personally attacked, figure it out I guess.

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So I was on the radio the other day and was asked about Anthony Bourdain, may he rest in peace. I thought about him in relation to this essay because it’s about honesty, about being real about your positionality in a place and as a person writing about it, even when you’re unsure about what that is, or feel uncomfortable about it. I feel that as travelers and travel writers, people who are always foreign somewhere, what we do is all about getting comfortable with the unknown. Bourdain didn’t always have easy answers or perfect politics, but he did always seem—to me, at least, and I started watching from the very beginning—to be honest about this. To ask questions he didn’t have the answers to, and to tread into other people’s homelands and homes ready to be schooled, to learn. We need more of that. And that’s all I’m tryna say here.

I try to identify the colonizer in my writing in an attempt to reach a deeper truth about how I move about the world, because from a different perspective, I have the normative voice, and I’d be a liar, and thus, a sh*tty writer, if I didn’t acknowledge that.

There’s so much revolutionary potential in writing stories about what is lost and gained in the process of migration to adhere to outdated story structures that deny the depth and complexity of our experiences. I think the way to write decolonized travel narratives is to pursue our truths, the truth, so doggedly that it leads us off the path of tradition and into terra incognita. From there, the sky’s the limit.

So what travel writers or books do you think get this right, or close to it? What do your manuscripts look like? Have you thought about any of this stuff while writing or reading travel? Do tell in the comments. You can read the essay in full here.

 

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White Women Don’t Speak for All of Us: On ‘Safe’ vs. ‘Dangerous’ Travel Destinations

OK, so it’s been forever and a day since I’ve updated this here blog and I’m sorry for the radio silence. If you’ve been following me on social media you’d know I’m still alive and kicking and have simply gone the way of many bloggers before me who…fail to update their blogs.

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There’s so much I gotta share with y’all but I’ll start off with this essay published at the beginning of the year on racist conversations on safety in travel culture that erase women and trans people of color’s voices and experiences with harassment and gendered violence. And really, those listicles on ‘safe’ travel destinations for women are a whole heaping mess of bias, assumptions, and feelings over facts. Cis white women’s feelings, to be specific. Here’s the premise:

Travel safety is simply more of a concern for women, trans men, and nonbinary travelers. But these conversations around safety have long been dominated by white Western women with class and race privilege who color their “advice” with a not-so-coded streak of racism. Safety for white women travelers is not the same as safety for women and nonbinary travelers of color, and when travel media fails to even acknowledge that we exist in these narratives, they strengthen the conditions that make this patriarchal world unsafe for those most vulnerable.

Unless you’ve managed to delude your racist ass into believing you’re ‘colorblind,’ then you’ve noticed that listicles on ‘safe’ travel destinations for women are not only written by white women but primarily list majority-white countries in what’s referred to as the ‘developed world’. You can call them former colonies, the ‘first world,’ whatever, but we all know how they got their wealth and which citizens they guarantee ‘safety’ for. So clearly this conversation needs to be complicated, because,

those are relative notions shaped by power, and not a one-size-fits-all deal.

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There’s a lot to parse through here, but I want to highlight two main points.

  1. These conversations rely on unexamined stereotypes of Black and brown men as not only criminals, but hypersexual beings who prey on white women
  2. These conversations completely erase how Black, Native, and other women of color are often hypersexualized in predominantly white places while also being hyperpoliced, making them unsafe in spaces white women deem ‘safe’

“Whether . . . in a long, flowing skirt or in jeans and a peacoat, there are just some regions of the world [where people] see black skin on a woman, and assume that the only way I was able to afford to get there and stay there, was by way of selling my body to a local.” – Gloria Atanmo, The Worst Part About My Travels As A Solo, Black Woman

So when a cis white woman with the privilege to travel the world advises you on where you should and shouldn’t travel, just assume that she’s only speaking for herself and women just like her, a global minority overrepresented in travel culture. It’s tired as hell.

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We all experience the world differently, and if we are to advise others on how to navigate it, we need to be aware of and address those differences. When the mainstream travel culture—dominated with white voices—deems what’s safe or unsafe, they largely frame themselves as victims and people of color as predators because they are doing so without an analysis of power in mind.

Read the essay in full here.

NYC: Let’s Talk Tourism in Literature

Hey people. It’s been a minute ’cause I’m trying to keep up with this bitch called Life in 2017. I just wanted to pop in to invite those of y’all in NYC to this dope event on tourism in literature this Thursday, October 12th at the Asian American Writer’s Workshop, a space I love!

Travel writing is a genre rife with fantasies of escape, luxury, and finding oneself through an experience in an unfamiliar place—in other words, colonial tropes. Is it possible to write about travel while decolonizing the narrative? What can contemporary literature tell us about the relationship between tourists and service workers, and can it provide more authentic ways of knowing places that have been branded to Western tourists as pleasure zones? Join us for a reading with Canadian writer Farzana Doctor, who joins us for the US launch of All Inclusive, her book written from the perspective of a worker at a Mexican resort, queer travel writer and activist Bani Amor, writer and professor Tiphanie Yanique, whose debut novel, Land and Love of Drowning chronicles the changes in the US Virgin Islands over the 20th century and who recently wrote “Americans in a Battered Paradise” about the devastation of Hurricane Irma in The New York Times. They will be joined by Julia Hori, a graduate student who researches the colonial underpinnings of tourism in the Caribbean.

We’ll all be reading then taking part in a Q & A with the audience. It’s free ($5 suggested!) but it would be helpful if you reserved your seat through Eventbrite or Facebook. Come over and say hi; you’re likely to find me drinking in a corner.