On YA literature, and how it helps
There's been a (deserved) uproar about a certain article concerning YA.
In short: this article is bunk. Even ompletely ignoring the cute sexism in the "recommended reading" list, it's uninformed, it's poorly written, and it is completely out of touch with reality.
Sure, I'm not a teen anymore, but I'm only 22, and I can easily remember when I was. I remember the financial difficulties my family went through. I remember struggling with my sexuality. I remember writing reams and reams of paper about how I wanted to kill myself. Being a teen was tough, and I was pretty privileged: white, middle class, nice suburban neighborhood. That sort of thing.
And it wasn't just me. Nearly every single person I know had dealt with some variety of this as a teen. I can only name one or two of my friends who weren't abused or raped or harassed, who didn't deal with eating disorders or drugs or self harm, who didn't feel suicidal, who weren't confronted with racism or homophobia or sexism, who didn't come from a broken family, who weren't bullied at school, who didn't spend a lot of time being scared and hurt and unsure. Everyone had to deal with stuff like this, and no, I didn't come from a bad part of town. My friends were all smart, reasonably well-off, and occupied that trendy-nerdy space in high school. Most of us did either sports or music as an extracurricular. Some of us did both. All of us went to college, and nearly all of us graduated. And we still went through this stuff.
And this isn't a recent thing either, you know. There isn't this sudden decline in teen morality - there's just more exposure than there used to be. I have cousins that went through the same mess of things, and some of them are nearly 14 years older than I am. I know adults who had similar issues. The big difference now is that people are talking about, that the stigma that forced people into silence is, if not gone, at least being fought against - and YA is responsible for a lot of that. Because ignoring it isn't going to make things better, but talking about it might.
YA is especially important to me. I read YA when I was about 10 and discovered Tamora Pierce and for the first time I really sat down and realized that I was worth something even though I was a girl. That I could be as good as the boys around me. That I could be anything.
After that, I stopped with YA. I was a very good reader as a child and focused mostly on adult sci-fi/fantasy. I didn't really pick up another YA book until I was 20. It was Sarah Rees Brennan's The Demon's Lexicon and it helped me rediscover a love of reading.
You see, I majored in English literature and I went through a stage where I only read “real” literature, and then I didn't read much literature at all other than what I was required to, because I can only read so many slice-of-life books about self-discovery (which is what a lot of “high lit” is). The Demon's Lexicon made me remember when reading was fun; it made me remember when reading made me feel more alive. It helped me through my grueling college courses, and, on days when I veered towards self-harm and suicide, it kept me distracted - it kept me safe. YA has done worlds for me.
I've consumed a good amount of YA fiction since then. Some of it is dark, some of it borders on brutal (which is hardly a bad thing and is extremely necessary), but the whole of YA cannot be summed up in merely one word, in the same way you can't dismiss all sci-fi or mystery or “literature” or whatever. There are fluffy romances and gritty war stories and magical worlds and all types of genres, all of them necessary and wonderful and valuable. And, really, YA has some of the best role models you could ever want, both within the pages of the books, and without. The Hunger Games's Katniss Everdeen has a level of strength and empathy that everyone should aspire to, and Cassandra Clare's Tessa Gray is ten kinds of amazing. I wish I could be Lisa Mantchev's Bertie, and, although not strictly YA, Rick Riordan's Annabeth Chase will forever be pretty much my favorite character ever. And outside of the books, well, there are so many intelligent women (and men) to look up to - I think the world of Cassandra Clare and Holly Black and Tamora Pierce and so many others. Furthermore, I do not honestly think there could be a better role model that Maureen Johnson, with all of the charity work and honest talk she brings even to something a ephemeral as twitter.
I want to work with YA now. I want to publish or write or edit or do something, as long as it involves YA, because I know YA saves. And if I can save even one life, help even one person, then that's good enough. Because I want to make a difference, and YA makes a difference to the people who need it most.
In short: this article is bunk. Even ompletely ignoring the cute sexism in the "recommended reading" list, it's uninformed, it's poorly written, and it is completely out of touch with reality.
Sure, I'm not a teen anymore, but I'm only 22, and I can easily remember when I was. I remember the financial difficulties my family went through. I remember struggling with my sexuality. I remember writing reams and reams of paper about how I wanted to kill myself. Being a teen was tough, and I was pretty privileged: white, middle class, nice suburban neighborhood. That sort of thing.
And it wasn't just me. Nearly every single person I know had dealt with some variety of this as a teen. I can only name one or two of my friends who weren't abused or raped or harassed, who didn't deal with eating disorders or drugs or self harm, who didn't feel suicidal, who weren't confronted with racism or homophobia or sexism, who didn't come from a broken family, who weren't bullied at school, who didn't spend a lot of time being scared and hurt and unsure. Everyone had to deal with stuff like this, and no, I didn't come from a bad part of town. My friends were all smart, reasonably well-off, and occupied that trendy-nerdy space in high school. Most of us did either sports or music as an extracurricular. Some of us did both. All of us went to college, and nearly all of us graduated. And we still went through this stuff.
And this isn't a recent thing either, you know. There isn't this sudden decline in teen morality - there's just more exposure than there used to be. I have cousins that went through the same mess of things, and some of them are nearly 14 years older than I am. I know adults who had similar issues. The big difference now is that people are talking about, that the stigma that forced people into silence is, if not gone, at least being fought against - and YA is responsible for a lot of that. Because ignoring it isn't going to make things better, but talking about it might.
YA is especially important to me. I read YA when I was about 10 and discovered Tamora Pierce and for the first time I really sat down and realized that I was worth something even though I was a girl. That I could be as good as the boys around me. That I could be anything.
After that, I stopped with YA. I was a very good reader as a child and focused mostly on adult sci-fi/fantasy. I didn't really pick up another YA book until I was 20. It was Sarah Rees Brennan's The Demon's Lexicon and it helped me rediscover a love of reading.
You see, I majored in English literature and I went through a stage where I only read “real” literature, and then I didn't read much literature at all other than what I was required to, because I can only read so many slice-of-life books about self-discovery (which is what a lot of “high lit” is). The Demon's Lexicon made me remember when reading was fun; it made me remember when reading made me feel more alive. It helped me through my grueling college courses, and, on days when I veered towards self-harm and suicide, it kept me distracted - it kept me safe. YA has done worlds for me.
I've consumed a good amount of YA fiction since then. Some of it is dark, some of it borders on brutal (which is hardly a bad thing and is extremely necessary), but the whole of YA cannot be summed up in merely one word, in the same way you can't dismiss all sci-fi or mystery or “literature” or whatever. There are fluffy romances and gritty war stories and magical worlds and all types of genres, all of them necessary and wonderful and valuable. And, really, YA has some of the best role models you could ever want, both within the pages of the books, and without. The Hunger Games's Katniss Everdeen has a level of strength and empathy that everyone should aspire to, and Cassandra Clare's Tessa Gray is ten kinds of amazing. I wish I could be Lisa Mantchev's Bertie, and, although not strictly YA, Rick Riordan's Annabeth Chase will forever be pretty much my favorite character ever. And outside of the books, well, there are so many intelligent women (and men) to look up to - I think the world of Cassandra Clare and Holly Black and Tamora Pierce and so many others. Furthermore, I do not honestly think there could be a better role model that Maureen Johnson, with all of the charity work and honest talk she brings even to something a ephemeral as twitter.
I want to work with YA now. I want to publish or write or edit or do something, as long as it involves YA, because I know YA saves. And if I can save even one life, help even one person, then that's good enough. Because I want to make a difference, and YA makes a difference to the people who need it most.