What does it take to reach your potential as a brown writer?

I’ve wanted to be a writer ever since I was a little girl. And not just any kind of writer, but someone who is both famous and making a difference in the world with her words. While I haven’t achieved fame (yet), I know my writing has helped some people, like those struggling with depression, and those wanting to be authentic. But every now and then, I ask myself if I’m doing the best I can, if I’m on the path towards achieving my potential. Bear in mind that I’m not employed full-time, I’m a freelance writer. And I’m neither white nor male, I’m brown and female. Why do I point this out? Simple: doing meaningful work as a writer is hard enough for a privileged person. It is infinitely harder for someone like me. Even existing in a space dominated by white males is a struggle. 


It may seem like I’m being overcautious or exaggerating, but sadly, this is not the case. In the past, I’ve put up with covert and overt racism. I have been singled out for English not being my native language even though it is the language I know best and have been learning since the age of five. I have been offered lower pay because to quote an editor, "in your country, this is good money, isn't it?"


Indeed, reaching one’s potential is a tough goal in the writing game. I’m not talking about a high income; few writers make a ton of money. I’m talking about just one thing: being personally satisfied with the words I put out in the world


Misconduct like this has given me some serious imposter syndrome and hurt my creativity, and I now try to avoid such “opportunities”. Even the most interesting work cannot tempt me to tolerate blatant discrimination.  We live in a world that touts about the importance of equal opportunities and diversity. Yet, most publications still prefer white writers. Sure, since around May 25, 2020, editors have been frequently Tweeting that they are looking for pitches from Black, Indigenous, and People of Color. But honestly, a lot of this is performative. Besides, they typically want stories that are race-centric. My race is a huge part of my identity, but there is so much more to me than the color of my skin, and I want to talk about all of it. Like my white counterparts, I too want to cover topics I’m interested in, like mental wellbeing, individuality, Internet culture, and occasionally, toilet humor. Just like anyone else, I have a right to personhood, and this translates to my writing too. I don't want to only write about, say, racial trauma or discrimination.



But what I want to write about and what editors want from me tend to be at odds with each other. I want to write about the intricacies of being human and not continuously highlighting how resilient I am. Truth be told, I’m not blaming anybody; editors have to work according to the demands of upper management and their target audience. Luckily, there are some media companies with white allies and people of color as editors, founders, and readers, and I try my best to work with such platforms. Today, I’d rather not get a writing gig than be openly disrespected. This is larger than me, after all. I value myself. If I don’t take a stand, other people of color, especially ones who are young, will suffer similar mistreatment.


If there’s something I need to say and can’t find a platform, it goes up on my blog. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than not putting my words out in the world at all. Of course, sometimes, due to monetary woes, I have no option but to work with people who barely tolerate me. I have made up my mind to minimize these 'back against the wall' situations by figuring out a second career path, one that will give me financial stability. It’s going to be hard, but it’s certainly a better option than letting someone walk all over me without protesting. 


So what does it take to reach your potential as a brown writer? I haven’t reached it yet but I’m on the right path. I believe it takes thick skin, gut instinct, and a whole lot of courage. I will continue to share my voice and amplify other BIPOC voices. And until the world decides to become anti-racist, this seems to be the only way.

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