The Stories We Learn

In past posts I’ve mentioned my love of mythology. I knew more about Greek, Norse, Egyptian and Roman mythology than a child of eight should know. I loved the idea of goddesses and gods who were like us, but writ large. I didn’t know it then, but they were the original superheroes and arch villains. And I’m a sucker for a good origin story.  

          Which is why I found myself becoming dismayed while researching my next project. I want to daughter and any future generations to know our mythology—Taino mythology and yet finding information about it proved difficult. I was equal to the challenge of reading academic research in Spanish (being both a historian and a Spanish speaker) and sifting through websites for what was honest conjecture and what was wishful thinking (my superpower is research). And yet the more stories I learned and loved, the angrier I became. Why hadn’t I learned more about this in school? I grew up in New York City, which is fairly progressive and well-represented by Puerto Ricans. Shouldn’t the indigenous cultures of the Caribbean have been covered? My love of Greek myths had started in school, why hadn’t my love been expanded to include my mythology? Why wasn’t my culture considered as interesting and vital? Eight-year-old me wouldn’t have known the answer, but current me knows the answer is obvious.

          The stories we learn are important. It’s a recent idea that representation matters, but that’s an abstract idea. I’m reminded in little ways all the time that it’s more than an idea. It’s an ideal. And making sure the stories we learn include everyone is just as important as marches and rallies. Writers often say you should write the stories you want to see. I’ve always known I wanted to put Latinas at the forefront of my stories and I hope that one day a child of any background walks around with a big book of Taino myths and meets her new superheroes.

Three point cemi of the Tainos

Fairy Representation

A lot has been said and written about the drawbacks to revisiting the same stories over and over again. As a person who has written novels based on nursery rhymes and fairy tales, I prefer to look at story re-imaginings as a way to write myself and people like me into stories we've told for centuries. And I'm clearly not alone. Fairy tale retellings are very popular and for the very reason I described. The proof is Hallmark holiday movies.

Stills from Hallmark Channel's 2020 holiday movies

I participated in a one-woman letter-writing campaign a few years ago. Every year I would compliment their programming and then ask them to consider making the characters more representative of the viewing audience. And over the years slowly (very slowly) but surely Hallmark has included people of color, movies about Hanukkah and this year, same-sex couples. A special thrill was seeing Julie Gonzalo, a not infrequent actress in Hallmark movies actually getting to play a Latina and her love interest was Black! I will admit that not all of them are great and some are downright bland, but it's sort of the point. Sleepy little rom-coms that normalize everyone's stories are just as important as mixed race and same-sex couples proliferating commercials.

Seeing yourself in a story gives it special significance and should never be discounted.

What stories do you want to see retold?

Things That Are Erased...

How long can fairy tales last?It’s a strange question for a person who writes a blog about fairy tales, like a chocolatier wondering how long sugar will be in vogue. But both are valid questions. Sugar has become the new taboo white powder with rising numbers in diabetes and other obesity-related diseases.Now we have increased awareness of how women are portrayed in culture, is it any wonder that I question the validity of fairy tales. I’ve written countless posts about the lack of agency, the belief that all a woman needs is a man to solve her problems, and the general lack of dimension. How can a genre that runs counter to our new “woke” society honestly endorse such a dated view? My answer is Auntie Mame.One of my favorite old movies is Auntie Mame (1958). It stars Rosalind Russell in the title role of Mame Denis, an upscale bohemian with progressive views who takes in her orphaned nephew and expands his as to now narrow horizons. It’s fun and quotable and Mame is a hero of mine.But there is a dirty secret in Auntie Mame. His name is Ito. He’s Mame’s butler and the worst version of a stereotype. Whenever he’s on screen I cringe and think about all the old movies I love that have gross stereotypes of Asians, Latinos, African-Americans, and homosexuals. Despite taking such progressive views of unwed motherhood, alternative lifestyles, independent women, restrictive country clubs and “zoned” neighborhoods, it still falls back on an offensive representation.So how do I keep calling it my favorite? Well, uncomfortably and I think that’s how it ought to be. I won’t dismiss it out of hand because that’s like erasing it and things that are erased can be forgotten. And I won’t forgive it for those cringe-worthy moments because it means ignoring how hurtful stereotypes can be to everyone. I suppose the same goes for fairy tales. I’ve always read them with a sense of unease and will continue to do so. Fairy tales, like Auntie Mame, will stay in our collective consciousness, but hopefully we’ll collectively read (or watch) them more thoughtfully and challenge ourselves to address our discomfort. And that will ensure they last forever.