I get your point about certain stories getting more attention than other stories. It's a systemic issue that's neither fair nor does it accurately represent society. However, the example you used is a little strange. Cheryl Strayed grew up in Minnesota so poor that her family didn't have central heat nor indoor plumbing. She's also not what most would call conventionally attractive (thin). God, I hope she doesn't see this comment, but I think she knows she isn't thin.
I'm glad to hear that you're helping Will with his autobiography (memoir?). I think everyone deserves to tell their story and be heard, no matter who they are or what walk of life they come from.
I was a bit uncharitable to Cheryl Strayed, but I felt like there are a lot of people who would not be able to afford to leave employment to hike the Pacific Crest Trail or do heroin to deal with their grief. There is a reason that OxyContin is called the poor man’s heroin: it is cheap in comparison. There was this online “check your privilege” calculator that I saw once. The use of certain recreational drugs (the cost prohibitive ones) was noted as a sign of privilege. While Strayed grew up in a very rustic house, her family also owned 40 acres of land. I have empathy for her as a victim of sexual abuse. There is nothing privileged about that. I did not mean to say the writers of these books are all thin and pretty, but they tell a story that resonates with privileged individuals the way stories of thin, pretty white women who go missing resonate with privileged individuals in a way that stories of missing BIPOC women never would.
So, based on what you're saying, it's my understanding is that you don't like that people resonate with the stories of white women because, in our culture, it's "normal" to be sympathetic towards white women but not towards women of color? That's something I agree with completely (and have experienced myself as a a woman of color).
I keep thinking about what else I want to say, but it just keeps veering in complicated directions that aren't appropriate for this conversation or medium. I think the thing is, I believe that everyone is doing the best they can with whatever they were given. Life is hard, and we're always better off giving people empathy and the benefit of the doubt, even if we think someone else needs it more. There's not a limited supply. If you take it away from a white woman, it doesn't mean there's more for someone else. It just means there's a little less empathy in the world, in general. The more generous we are with it, the more is created.
Maybe a simpler way to say it is that I'm in favor of putting the focus on the people you support and lifting them up, rather than the other way around.
I’m only saying I no longer want to read those stories. I probably should not have picked on Wild per se. I also thought about the books by Karen Richardson Whitely, even though she has battled obesity and has also been the victim of sexual abuse. Maybe I am looking at these stories as demonstrating able-bodied privilege, because not everyone can just set their mind on climbing a mountain or hiking the PCT. I get why these stories resonate, but they just aren’t that interesting to me. I wrote a memoir as narrative therapy, which was very helpful for me in dealing with my PTSD, but I will not subject other people to it. I know that I have white privilege despite growing up in poverty and being the victim of sexual abuse. The most unique thing about my experience is that my rapist was another female. It is not that this doesn’t happen, but women who’ve been victims of sexual assault perpetrated by another woman are less likely to talk about what they went through. I read a study out of the U.K. about this, and I think it likely has to do with how therapists treat us. I have no authority over what gets published; I just get to say what I’d like to read. I would prefer reading your autobiography because it comes from not only an underrepresented demographic, but because it is not yet another story about a woman who is able to take an extensive amount of time off from work to book a trip to find themselves. Leaving employment due to a disabling condition is not the same thing. It is a struggle I am much more able to relate to. Maybe the trope I have the biggest problem with is the one of inspiration. I suppose that has something to do with how the only stories many people want to read about people with disabilities is within that genre of inspiration porn. Sometimes there is no big event that turns a person’s life around. Sometimes it is just one long struggle for survival and acceptance. I prefer memoirs like The Glass Castle, which is written by yet another white woman, but tells a complicated story of how her parents’ addiction and mental health issues impacted her family. She shows a great deal of reverence for her parents despite the hardship they inflicted on her and her siblings. Your story, and Will’s story, are a little more like the one told by Jeanette Walls. There was no trip that changed everything, just escape. But also, this theme that no one escapes their past. It is with us. It shapes who we are. Anyway, I have blathered on long enough.
I hope you know that I still love you and care about you, and I don't care if you don't like Wild or similar books. You're not required to read or like anything that I like, even if it's my favorite thing. It's not. I didn't love Wild, either, but that has to do more to do with the writing than the story. However, I'm a big fan of Cheryl Strayed's Dear Sugar work.
I was bullied SO MUCH as a kid because people didn't understand my life or made assumptions about me. In elementary school, because I was well-behaved, got good grades, and didn't socialize with the other kids, they often jumped to the conclusion that I was stuck-up or privileged, when it was the total opposite. This seems to be a common experience for kids with ASD. So, it's a big trigger for me to see anyone being picked on for any reason. Even if the person is literally royalty.
I heard an interview where Cheryl talked about how a previous version of Wild had all her childhood stuff in it. It explained how she'd ended up on that trip in the first place. It was less self-actualization and more running away. However, someone gave her the feedback that it took 80 pages before she even got on the trail, so she cut it. I think the book is worse-off for it.
No one is required to like anyone's book or story. It's subjective, and there are literally thousands of memoirs out there. I've read across race, class, and gender, but your points make me wonder if I've done that enough. I really enjoyed Memorial Drive by Natasha Trethewey. She's an incredible writer. Somebody's Daughter by Ashley C. Ford is also pretty moving, but that one comes with a TW (sexual assault).
I see myself as writing in the tradition of Jeanette Walls, Tara Westover, and Mary Karr, but I feel like comparing life events is fairly superficial. It's more about how we've experienced the events of our lives and what we've made of them. Turning it into art is a completely different beast.
I'm really happy that you see me as working in the same tradition as these women, though. I've drawn a lot of inspiration from them.
So maybe I'm babbling now, but I think it's mainly that I want you to know that I'm still happy with you, and I'm not mad or anything.
I didn't think you were mad at me, but you made some really good points, and I didn't read anything else by Strayed because I didn't like Wild. I just get on my rants sometimes. Perceptions of privilege can be very flawed. I tend to make my judgements based on someone's consumption habits, even though I know people have targeted me for the same because I buy organic food. I am guilty of applying double standards. As much as I often wish it weren't the case, I am only human. I am replete with internal inconsistencies. I should be more careful about airing them, but I also made the decision not to edit or remove things because I think it is important for people to change their mind, openly admit that they were wrong, and so on.
That's one of the things I admire about you, and I'm so grateful to call you a friend. Being replete with internal inconsistencies is one of the most interesting things about being human, but it also causes a lot of internal tension. I'm touched by your ability to approach it with clear eyes and self-compassion.
I get your point about certain stories getting more attention than other stories. It's a systemic issue that's neither fair nor does it accurately represent society. However, the example you used is a little strange. Cheryl Strayed grew up in Minnesota so poor that her family didn't have central heat nor indoor plumbing. She's also not what most would call conventionally attractive (thin). God, I hope she doesn't see this comment, but I think she knows she isn't thin.
I'm glad to hear that you're helping Will with his autobiography (memoir?). I think everyone deserves to tell their story and be heard, no matter who they are or what walk of life they come from.
I was a bit uncharitable to Cheryl Strayed, but I felt like there are a lot of people who would not be able to afford to leave employment to hike the Pacific Crest Trail or do heroin to deal with their grief. There is a reason that OxyContin is called the poor man’s heroin: it is cheap in comparison. There was this online “check your privilege” calculator that I saw once. The use of certain recreational drugs (the cost prohibitive ones) was noted as a sign of privilege. While Strayed grew up in a very rustic house, her family also owned 40 acres of land. I have empathy for her as a victim of sexual abuse. There is nothing privileged about that. I did not mean to say the writers of these books are all thin and pretty, but they tell a story that resonates with privileged individuals the way stories of thin, pretty white women who go missing resonate with privileged individuals in a way that stories of missing BIPOC women never would.
So, based on what you're saying, it's my understanding is that you don't like that people resonate with the stories of white women because, in our culture, it's "normal" to be sympathetic towards white women but not towards women of color? That's something I agree with completely (and have experienced myself as a a woman of color).
I keep thinking about what else I want to say, but it just keeps veering in complicated directions that aren't appropriate for this conversation or medium. I think the thing is, I believe that everyone is doing the best they can with whatever they were given. Life is hard, and we're always better off giving people empathy and the benefit of the doubt, even if we think someone else needs it more. There's not a limited supply. If you take it away from a white woman, it doesn't mean there's more for someone else. It just means there's a little less empathy in the world, in general. The more generous we are with it, the more is created.
Maybe a simpler way to say it is that I'm in favor of putting the focus on the people you support and lifting them up, rather than the other way around.
I’m only saying I no longer want to read those stories. I probably should not have picked on Wild per se. I also thought about the books by Karen Richardson Whitely, even though she has battled obesity and has also been the victim of sexual abuse. Maybe I am looking at these stories as demonstrating able-bodied privilege, because not everyone can just set their mind on climbing a mountain or hiking the PCT. I get why these stories resonate, but they just aren’t that interesting to me. I wrote a memoir as narrative therapy, which was very helpful for me in dealing with my PTSD, but I will not subject other people to it. I know that I have white privilege despite growing up in poverty and being the victim of sexual abuse. The most unique thing about my experience is that my rapist was another female. It is not that this doesn’t happen, but women who’ve been victims of sexual assault perpetrated by another woman are less likely to talk about what they went through. I read a study out of the U.K. about this, and I think it likely has to do with how therapists treat us. I have no authority over what gets published; I just get to say what I’d like to read. I would prefer reading your autobiography because it comes from not only an underrepresented demographic, but because it is not yet another story about a woman who is able to take an extensive amount of time off from work to book a trip to find themselves. Leaving employment due to a disabling condition is not the same thing. It is a struggle I am much more able to relate to. Maybe the trope I have the biggest problem with is the one of inspiration. I suppose that has something to do with how the only stories many people want to read about people with disabilities is within that genre of inspiration porn. Sometimes there is no big event that turns a person’s life around. Sometimes it is just one long struggle for survival and acceptance. I prefer memoirs like The Glass Castle, which is written by yet another white woman, but tells a complicated story of how her parents’ addiction and mental health issues impacted her family. She shows a great deal of reverence for her parents despite the hardship they inflicted on her and her siblings. Your story, and Will’s story, are a little more like the one told by Jeanette Walls. There was no trip that changed everything, just escape. But also, this theme that no one escapes their past. It is with us. It shapes who we are. Anyway, I have blathered on long enough.
I hope you know that I still love you and care about you, and I don't care if you don't like Wild or similar books. You're not required to read or like anything that I like, even if it's my favorite thing. It's not. I didn't love Wild, either, but that has to do more to do with the writing than the story. However, I'm a big fan of Cheryl Strayed's Dear Sugar work.
I was bullied SO MUCH as a kid because people didn't understand my life or made assumptions about me. In elementary school, because I was well-behaved, got good grades, and didn't socialize with the other kids, they often jumped to the conclusion that I was stuck-up or privileged, when it was the total opposite. This seems to be a common experience for kids with ASD. So, it's a big trigger for me to see anyone being picked on for any reason. Even if the person is literally royalty.
I heard an interview where Cheryl talked about how a previous version of Wild had all her childhood stuff in it. It explained how she'd ended up on that trip in the first place. It was less self-actualization and more running away. However, someone gave her the feedback that it took 80 pages before she even got on the trail, so she cut it. I think the book is worse-off for it.
No one is required to like anyone's book or story. It's subjective, and there are literally thousands of memoirs out there. I've read across race, class, and gender, but your points make me wonder if I've done that enough. I really enjoyed Memorial Drive by Natasha Trethewey. She's an incredible writer. Somebody's Daughter by Ashley C. Ford is also pretty moving, but that one comes with a TW (sexual assault).
I see myself as writing in the tradition of Jeanette Walls, Tara Westover, and Mary Karr, but I feel like comparing life events is fairly superficial. It's more about how we've experienced the events of our lives and what we've made of them. Turning it into art is a completely different beast.
I'm really happy that you see me as working in the same tradition as these women, though. I've drawn a lot of inspiration from them.
So maybe I'm babbling now, but I think it's mainly that I want you to know that I'm still happy with you, and I'm not mad or anything.
I didn't think you were mad at me, but you made some really good points, and I didn't read anything else by Strayed because I didn't like Wild. I just get on my rants sometimes. Perceptions of privilege can be very flawed. I tend to make my judgements based on someone's consumption habits, even though I know people have targeted me for the same because I buy organic food. I am guilty of applying double standards. As much as I often wish it weren't the case, I am only human. I am replete with internal inconsistencies. I should be more careful about airing them, but I also made the decision not to edit or remove things because I think it is important for people to change their mind, openly admit that they were wrong, and so on.
That's one of the things I admire about you, and I'm so grateful to call you a friend. Being replete with internal inconsistencies is one of the most interesting things about being human, but it also causes a lot of internal tension. I'm touched by your ability to approach it with clear eyes and self-compassion.