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I’ve been thinking a lot these past couple of weeks about why I left radio, because part of me is sure that if it was a less hostile, more diverse industry I would have stayed. The real problem, in the end, was the idea of “narrative” 1/13
I was expected, for the sake of the almighty “narrative”, to skim down and tweak the rich, intricate nuance of someone’s experience until I could package it into a listenable story. This, usually, was not a big deal—it’s a necessary part of the work. 2/13
The issue was who got do decide which nuances were important. I did queer stories. I could do those stories with small, underfunded queer shows or let the the straight, white, male monolith of well-funded podcasting squeeze my stories into something they weren’t. 3/13
Those big time editors and hosts weren’t queer. They didn’t know what detail had to stay and what had to go. They didn’t see the same story I or the other queer reporters in my circles saw at all. It was like that old optical illusion; I saw two faces, they saw a vase. 4/13
So I struck out on my own with a story I loved and, if I’m honest, a massive chip on my shoulder. In doing so, I knew my stories would be seen as “niche”, coming from yet another underfunded queer show, but at least I had control over what was told. It was lonely, though. 5/13
I got sad. REALLY sad. So sad that the only things that could cheer me up were queer historical, fantasy, and historical/fantasy romance novels. They were mostly about gay men, which was fine, and I read them instead of sleeping, which was not fine. 6/13
After reading TJ Klune’s “The Lightning-Struck Heart” I scoured the internet for similarly funny, irreverent, heartfelt fantasy—but about lesbians. Now, in 2021, there are some excellent, readily available titles. Back in 2018, options were slim. I decided to write one. 7/13
My debut novel comes out in August. It’s a silly, sappy, sexy, sapphic adventure through a trope-y fantasy world. It has a happy ending, and so do I; writing fiction has been so much more fun and fulfilling for me than audio journalism ever was. 8/13
Anyway, this is my roundabout way of saying that those in charge shape what we get to hear. What lens we see the world through. LGBTQ+ and BIPOC reporters are asked to sand down a story’s corners to appeal to the folks in power. Anything else is "niche." 9/13
And, like the lost nuance, the people in charge will ignore harassment because they can't see it. They can only identify with the predator’s narrative, not the victims’. Even when we point out the two faces, they can still only see the vase. 10/13
We need more diversity in this field, on every level. We need to stop treating successful hosts as though they have some sort of innate special-ness—especially when that special-ness is identified by the straight, white, cis, male monolith that upholds the status-quo. 11/13
We need fuller narratives, expertly handled by those who can see the value in the nuances. Who can see the two faces and the vase. 12/13
Additionally, Michael Barbaro needs to unblock me. The End. 13/13
