Going beyond Weinstein with Queer #MeToo YA by Briana Asmus

A couple of years ago I was introduced to Briana through another colleague. Briana was interested in writing for the blog. We talked a bit and she was on the schedule. I have always enjoyed her topics. In fact, after reading the draft of her first post, I was struck with how much it reminded me of my own experience working on a farmer. She was writing about the US and Mexico border and how it connects with immigrant experiences and how they are represented in YA literature. You can read it here. Last year she wrote about Manga as classroom counterculture. She was writing well beyond my expertise. Take a couple of minutes to check it out here.

Once again, she taken on a topic that is beyond my expertise.  She has connected current events with Queer YA Literature and the #MeToo movement. I love the books she mentions, but she does a better job than I could have with the analysis and connections she makes. Thanks Briana.

Going beyond Weinstein with Queer #MeToo 

This past week, the public finally received a verdict in what has come to be known as the case that sparked the #MeToo movement. Harvey Weinstein was taken out of the courtroom in handcuffs, facing up to 29 years in prison. Even though Weinstein was acquitted of some of the most serious charges, many considered Weinstein’s conviction a victory; as a powerful Hollywood mogul, there was no doubt that Weinstein had been evading accountability for decades, and like so many others, had been quite successful at doing so. And for the first time, a high-profile predator was held responsible despite the very real “messiness” of the cases: the complications that often destroy otherwise strong sexual assault cases—victims’ complex personal histories, difficulty in reconstructing details of their trauma, and continued contact with the assailant even after the abuse—were not enough to distract jurors from the facts central to the case.
 
Post-verdict, a rash of news articles with headlines like, What Now? and What have we Learned? surfaced in popular publications like the New York Times and Washington Post. I find myself slightly annoyed by society’s tendency to collapse decades and more than 80 public accusations (in the Weinstein case) into this type of headline. The testimonies of the survivors were so complex, and I like so many other women know that #MeToo will not end with one verdict, one case, or one conviction. As actress Mira Sorvino notes, “Together we have and will continue to make change in the laws as a culture, as this is just a drop in a wave of justice to come for predators and survivors everywhere." But, it’s more than that. It’s about lives; families and individuals struggling to heal from trauma. 

​Like many women, I have spent lots of time listening to #MeToo survivors on the radio, on TV, and in both fiction and nonfiction. I read perhaps the most talked about #MeToo novel, Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson. I followed it up with The Nowhere Girls by Amy Reed so I will not discuss them here, other than to say that these books have contributed greatly to the conversation. The stories I heard from survivors in all these forms of media not only helped me to feel validated in my own experience; they also pushed me to think about the varied ways people experience assault. I also learned that when it happens to LGBTQ people, it does not necessarily count as assault under the law in many parts of the world. I realized that within the LBGTQ community, sexual assault, and assault in general is underreported. Poverty, race, and other factors, of course, can also play a significant role. 

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Tarana Burke, the activist and founder of #MeToo, once noted, “...I think it will be a disservice to people if we couch this conversation in about what happens in Hollywood or what happens in even political offices.” The #MeToo movement was founded on marginalized voices (those of black women, specifically), and marginalized voices continue to be important for shaping the contours of debate about sexual assault prevention both nationally and internationally. As teachers, it’s important to highlight all voices, and especially marginalized voices when we consider the true impact and future of #MeToo. 

​This week I had the pleasure of reading two new YA books that speak to experiences of sexual assault within two very different queer communities. The first was The Music of What Happens, by Bill Konigsberg, which tells the story of Max and Jordan, two high-school seniors each with their own struggles and delights. The narrative structure of this novel provides excellent development for both characters as the chapters alternate between Max and Jordan, so that as readers we often get the same story from each of their distinct perspectives. In this way, the characters continue to build and become more complex as the novel goes on, and as we see them grow through the eyes of each other. 

​There is a lot to talk about in this novel, especially in terms of the intersections of race and gender identity. There are also issues of addiction and grief. Konigsberg does a beautiful job weaving these throughout the novel without these vital topics becoming too overwhelming or seeming stereotypical. When Max is raped during his first homosexual experience, he does not realize that it was rape (by definition) until nearly 150 pages later when he is in a healthy relationship with Jordan and having flashbacks. As readers, we are guided through the process of Max coming to his realization. For high school readers, I think his journey is a particularly valuable part of the text, as Max has to face his trauma head-on, and it is treated realistically. Victims of sexual trauma often experience just such a delay in processing their experiences.

​The second book was Kaleidoscope Song by Fox Benwell. Set in Khayelitsha, South Africa, the novel is narrated by Neo, a high-school senior who is obsessed with music, and, is in love with Tale, a local singer. A lot is changing in Neo’s life as she is struggling to realize her dream of being involved in the music industry,  As she comes to know herself, she falls in with a local queer community. She quickly learns that in her hometown, it is not safe to be alone at night as a woman, let alone be out as a queer person. Neo comes to realize just how dangerous it can be in one horrific moment. Benwell does a wonderful job describing the setting through Neo, who both knows her limitations and pushes against them when she can. Poverty, religion, and violence all play a part in this novel, and students may be especially interested to consider how gender identity can be impacted by the social acceptance in a different environment. In addition, music lovers will appreciate the discography in the back of the text, which could be played while reading. 

Both novels have scenes that are difficult to read, because of violence, trauma, and sexual content. Some students may find these parts difficult, depending on their own experiences or sensitivity to these issues. More importantly, these scenes need to be contextualized by the teacher, noting that while there is sexual violence, this is actually not the focus of either book. In the end, both are love stories, with characters that are your average high-schoolers in so many ways, living lives centered on what you would expect at that age: relationships, friends, and hobbies.
 
It’s also important to explore the very different ways in which the victims confront their abusers. In The Music of What Happens, Max actually confronts his rapist more than once after the incident. He talks to both of his parents who are, for the most part, supportive and offer to find him help. His partner stays with him through it all, and it seems as if their relationship will stay on-track. On the other hand, in Kaleidoscope Song, Neo’s experience affects nearly all areas of her life, and eventually causes her to lose almost everything. Neo’s environment, inclusive of her conservative parents and her community's view of LBGTQ people shape her experience. It is clear that it would be impossible for her to directly confront her rapist, let alone take him to court, though she does confront him in other ways that are powerful.  

These books elicit a range of powerful questions as well, some of which are answered by the text and others which are more ambiguous. In my own classroom (now at the college level), I am a fan of high-order thinking questions, and I have my students answer some of mine and think of their own. Some that would fit well in discussions of these texts include: 

• In what way does access to support systems play a role in one’s experience of sexual violence?
• How does (race, gender identity, orientation) play a role in the lives of the victims, and the abusers?
• How do feelings or perceptions of one person’s control over another human come into play?
• How important is it for a confrontation to take place? What counts as a confrontation?
• How does a person’s social circle shape their experience of a traumatic event?
• How is the experience of trauma shaped by status (socioeconomic, or other)?
  
• What (if any) bystander intervention is represented in the text?  

​These types of questions are not only meant to give the reader a much broader view of #MeToo (beyond the headlines), they are also meant to elicit empathy, to see the life surrounding the victim, something not always present in court transcripts and testimony. The stories told by Max and Neo make the reader think about the many variables surrounding rape and sexual assault, moving beyond simple, fixed definitions and easy solutions. This varied range of thoughtful representations alone is extremely important, adding complexity to the often black-and-white (or victims-and-villains) approach to issues of sexual violence that we encounter in the media and in popular culture. 

Until next time.