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by Alexa Diamant
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by Jordan Avery
by Eric Noon
If all we’re to write about is our own experiences, then what room does that leave for us to learn, to empathize with, and to appreciate the stories of others? Writing about what we don’t know, the experiences we personally will never have to go through, could potentially help us to connect and build bridges with one another in ways we couldn’t see before. But as with any work of art, the court of public opinion holds a lot of sway in what is acceptable and what is not. I’m often left with the burning question of “Who can write what?
by Emily Langford  Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash As a queer, “elder millennial” who watched as personal computers suddenly took root in our homes, I experienced the rise of online fandom firsthand. Prior to the internet, my experience with fandom was a solo one, I didn’t know anyone who had the same obsessive passion for stories and characters like I had. I was the annoying kid who would, unprompted, spew out tidbits and theories about books and movies, the weirdo who was off in her own little world where all her characters existed at my day-dreamy little whims. I was tolerated at best and I eventually learned to keep my fervor to myself. I remember the first time I entered the titles of my favorite obsessions into the search bar. Suddenly, I was very much not alone. Each of my hyperfixations had a dedicated chat room or message board with other people who understood, who shared my passions. I finally found a place of acceptance.
by Qwayonna Josephs
Looking back now, it’s crazy to think that my introduction to Black-led stories was a book with a Black man on the cover, holding a gun, a book that was distributed to schools from Scholastic and praised as honest portrayals of inner city kids. Yet, every one of those books I read came from the mind of Paul Langan, a white man who claims in an interview that his intention behind the idea was sparked by minority students wanting to see themselves in print. I’m sure that drew lots of students to the books, seeing someone who looked like them on the cover―it definitely drew me in―but, with maturity and clarity, I now understand the harmfulness of these stories and characters. While trying to show our “experiences,” the books highlight negative stereotypes, slap on a problematic cover, and end up in the hands of impressionable elementary, middle, and high school kids that are desperate to see themselves in a story.
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