Extent of Identity: LGTBQ Youth in YA Science Fiction

​This week’s YA Wednesday is a guest post from Mark Lewis and one of his students, Marilena Orfanos. Mark has contributed before and you can find his earlier post about YA literature set in urban spaces here. I encourage you to check out that post as well. It points to some earlier work that Mark has done in the field of YA literature. Mark introduces the post by briefly describe how he structured this YA course.  Marilena then points to one of the remarkable ways YA literature talks about diversity by describing how she approached the her text selections. 

Extent of Identity: LGTBQ Youth in YA Science Fictio

This past fall 2016 semester I (Mark) tried a new approach to using young adult literature as part of my Methods of Teaching English course. Usually, I organize sets of four texts and ask students to self-select into a book club based upon what stories most interest them. They would then meet and discuss the YA literature in terms of content, course topics, and teaching. As well, I would provide time in class for cross-book club discussions since the clubs would all read texts related to one another in some way; for example, all clubs would read a graphic novel the same week. I thought the approach worked well to expose teacher candidates to a broad range of YA literature, yet also focus on reading, analyzing, and critiquing their four assigned texts.

This past semester, however, I decided to provide even more choice for the teacher candidates. Instead of choosing the texts, I asked them to identify a trend, issue, or theme within YA literature, and then create their own reading list of four texts. They were then asked to write critical reviews of each selection, and then create and present a “roundtable session.” In their session, they included relevant literary scholarship on their chosen trend, issue, or theme, summarized the messages their book club selections related about their topic, shared their critiques of these messages, and predicted how they thought young readers might react to such messages. Obviously, there are benefits and drawbacks to both approaches, which I would be  more than willing to discuss elsewhere (such as in the comments), but I provide this context only to set up the work of a teacher candidate highlighted in this post. 

Marilena Orfanos is a MAT candidate who took the course this past semester, and will complete her student teaching this semester. I believe her project presents a careful, yet critical, examination of how her chosen issue is presented in YA literature. I happily hand over the remainder of this post to her. 

Searching for LGBTQ YA science fiction is like trying to find shells, whole and intact, on the edge of a frothing, chaotic ocean—certainly possible, but maddening. I (Marilena) was 18 the first time I tried to find YA fantasy or science fiction with an LGBTQ protagonist. Early into my bookstore trek, I realized finding literature would be harder than I’d thought. Three hours later, I left the bookstore empty-handed and disheartened. Fast forward four years and here I am putting together a short list of LGBTQ YA science fiction that completely exceeded my expectations. I’d originally wanted to explore this theme to finally complete what my 18-year-old self had set out to find; however, the more research read, the more I realized such a great need for narratively diverse LGBTQ media.

In “Reading LGBT-Themed Literature with Young People: What’s Possible?” authors Blackburn and Clark (2009) noted the strange assumption by which teachers framed classroom conversations about sexuality and gender-identity. All too often, educators, school institutions, and even the text selected “invariably presumed student readers to be straight and…aggressively homophobic” (p. 27). Such beliefs led teachers to hand-hold their students, allowing them to opt-out of uncomfortable readings and normalizing homophobia as opposed to challenging heteronormativity. Additionally, LGBTQ-literature in and of itself seems boxed within a certain set of narratives. Protagonists typically deal with homophobia and coming out; who they are is linked to suffering within the texts’ plotline and themes. Even when LGBTQ characters are present in genre-fiction, they are likely to fall trap to the “Bury your Gays” trope. While it is important to steer away from “sanitized portrays” that ignore real LGBTQ issues, it is also important to offer hope, especially to a population of students who are arguably the most at risk for suicide. (According to The Trevor Project, the rate of suicide attempts is four times greater for LGBQ youth and two times greater for questioning youth than that of straight youth. Nearly half of young transgender individuals have seriously considered suicide.) Authors, teachers, and schools can simultaneously acknowledge the homophobia that very much still exists in this world, but they should also champion the belief that LGBTQ individuals can be both happy and the hero, dispelling the myth that “being gay means being alone” (Blackburn & Clark, 2009). 

​Although I hoped to find LGBTQ YA science fiction that didn’t focus on coming-out, it was a difficult topic to avoid. Therefore, the first group of books to discuss is linked by the way in which they handle the quintessential “coming-out” narrative. Two of them, Malinda Lo’s Adaptation and Perry Moore’s Hero outwardly deal with the typical anxieties of a homophobic reaction. In Hero, the main character knows his father won’t accept him; meanwhile Lo’s protagonist is more worried about naïve, yet ultimately embarrassing, misunderstandings (she says, “Besides, bisexual… makes me think of girls on TV making out in front of guys… I don’t want people to think that about me.”). Because Hero is a campy story about secret supervillains and a league of heroes, Moore codes the dilemma of a secret identity far beyond just hiding a mask and some colored spandex—he uses it as an extended analogy to the main character’s hidden sexuality. Lo, on the other hand, does not over-linger on her protagonist’s experiences coming out. Romance is merely a subplot to her story, just one facet of her being. In Lo’s sequel, Inheritance, the protagonist comes out again—to different people: friends, family, strangers—and such an act shows the way in which coming-out is not a one and done moment. For many individuals, coming-out is a reoccurring experience—a constant journey. However in all three novels, that journey is never tinged with hopelessness or overshadows the main meat of their science fiction. There is humor, the innocence of first crushes, relationship questions…and also alien government conspiracies/superhuman abilities. What’s more? Both characters save the day and find their happy ending. Readers get characters they recognize—see themselves in the protagonists who question their sexuality—and are also told, “You are a hero.” 

The next text I selected is actually a collection of comics. Beyond: The Queer Sci-Fi & Fantasy Comic Anthology features lesbian pirates in space, transgendered androids, demon-adopting gay dads, and more boundary breaking protagonists. However none of these stories make an obvious show of their characters’ sexuality or gender identity. The characters love and live and adventure…and just happen to be LGBTQ. As a result, themes in this anthology range from the illusory nature of trust to philosophical questions about the infinitude of space. It is refreshing to read narratives about LGBTQ individuals where they are allowed to tackle questions beyond societal acceptance. Some may find this aspect juvenile or patronizing of lived experience, while others may find the hopefulness presented as an appealing counter-narrative, especially when paired with the dedication page: “For the people in the dark —on an island or in the closet—still waiting for their first sign of light. You are valid, you are loved, it’s going to get bright and you are going to have amazing adventures.”

​There still remains a question of teaching. As stated earlier, educators often fall trap to framing LGBTQ literature within a homophobic lens, catering to and normalizing heteronormativity. In discussing any of these books, teachers can focus on themes such as “Narrative and Counter-Narratives” or “Mirror and Window.” For example, “Mirror and Window” can be a useful opportunity to introduce literary criticism. Students can answer the questions, “What knowledge of LGBTQ history and culture are the protagonists of these novels exposed to? How does knowledge of this history influence the way these protagonists see themselves?”  With a historical approach to literature, LGBTQ students have the opportunity to learn more about their community while straight students are exposed to “different opinions.” Additionally, using a historical approach can challenge heteronormativity by showing LGBTQ individuals throughout time, an ever-present and crucial community in our society.  For example, Malinda Lo’s Adaptation and Inheritance frequently reference San Francisco’s LGBTQ community. Teachers can assign a quote matching strategy where students receive two plastic bags. In one bag is a collection of quotes by LGBTQ activists and figures from San Francisco; in the other bag is a collection of quotes taken from Lo’s duology. Students work in groups to match quotes that they feel reflect or contradict one another, coming together as a class to discuss how closely San Francisco’s history influence’s Lo’s protagonist. Of course, it’s also important to focus on the novel’s genre-tropes. For example, “What common qualities of science fiction are found in the short comic, The Graves of Wolves?” or “How does Perry Moore pay homage to America’s fascination with comic books?” These four books are not only tools to explore LGBTQ literature, but ask and contribute to YA literature as a whole. 

References
Clark, C., & Blackburn, M. (2009). Reading LGBT-themed literature with young people:
What's possible? The English Journal, 98(4), 25-32. 
Marilena Orfanos [email protected]; Mark A. Lewis, Ph.D. [email protected]