Love and Consequences: The Epitome of White Appropriation in Book Form

Turns out there was good reason for Love and Consequences by Margaret (Peggy) B. Jones to not be named "Truth and Consequences". There was no truth in it, and Margaret was afraid of the consequences.

Turns out Margaret B. Jones, (supposedly half white, half Native American, poverty class) was actually Margaret Seltzer, an all white woman from Sherman Oaks, a wealthy suburb of Los Angeles. She "borrowed" the stories of people she worked with while doing anti-poverty and white ally work in Los Angeles gang territories, and worked them into a "memoir" about "her" difficult life.

There are so many things wrong with what Ms. Seltzer did that it's difficult to pick a "worst", but my vote would be on the betrayal of all those who considered her an ally by appropriating their stories for profit, without credit, without attribution.

A part of me understands this urge. I have worked for years with people whose lives are fascinating, stunningly difficult, with story arcs that have the ability to be great tragedy or soaring triumph. I love to write, and while I have had an interesting life, the lives of some of the people I've encountered make the "interesting" parts of my life pale in comparison. I may incorporate some of the details of their lives as characters in story some day, or I may (and have) provide some details in "case study" form to illustrate a point. I would never (no never, not ever) write anyone elses' experiences down as though they are my own.

I remember feeling this way after discovering that the stunningly emotional book The Education of Little Tree (which I discovered through the movie of the same name) was written by a white segregationist named Asa Earl Carter aka Forrest Carter, and was not, in any true sense of the word, autobiographical. I remember the uproar after Oprah's Book of the Month, A Million Little Pieces by James Frey turned out to be mostly fiction.

This is white privilege, plain and simple. Seltzer, Carter, and to a lesser extent, Frey (who used part of his own story but embellished it with pieces of other peoples' stories) stole the stories of people of color just as Elvis stole the blues and made it rock and roll. In the case of rock and roll, the damage is done and there aren't many reparations to be had, although there are groups out there trying to change that. In the case of this latest rash of memoirs that steal stories of hardship for the benefit of those who are privileged, there is more that can be done. First, put the word out (as I'm doing here). Second, don't buy the books. Don't even check them out at the library or borrow them from friends.

The bottom line is that a good story is a good story. Maybe the hook of "... and it's all true" is what put these various memoirs on the best seller lists, maybe not. But if an author doesn't have the guts to publish a story on its merits as a story, without resorting to lies about the origins of the story, then perhaps the story doesn't need to be told. I certainly won't be reading these stories, no matter how compelling they are, because I'm protesting their thefts from their rightful owners.