The Language Matters Memo
The Language Matters Memo
A monthly newsletter focussed on fostering more inclusive language, written by Sadia Siddiqui, Founder of Language Matters.
Hello and welcome to the March issue of The Language Matters Memo. This month I explore the controversy surrounding changes to Roald Dahl's much-loved children's books and share a "guide" to help individuals and organisations avoid being tokenistic and performative when embarking on Diversity & Inclusion initiatives.
Before we get into those topics, I have a recommendation for you.
You must read it!
This month’s recommendation is Token Black Girl: A memoir' by Danielle Prescod. I wouldn't recommend this book if I didn't think it was important, but in my opinion, Prescod's memoir should be on the national curriculum. If all young people (specifically teens) were required to read this, I believe it would have the power to change lives at an interpersonal level, ultimately impacting broader societal narratives.
Prescod grew up in the 90s in a privileged and overwhelmingly white community in Connecticut, USA. At one point, she was one of two Black girls at her fee-paying school, rendering her invisible yet hyper-visible. The invisibility was courtesy of the whitewashing movies, television, magazine and books she and her classmates devoured. The hyper-visibility resulted from being called on to be the authority on all things 'Black' for her classmates.
Before I go further, I want to clarify this book isn’t about being a statistical ‘minority’ in a very white world. This book examines how People of Colour, specifically Black people, are minoritised and minimised. That’s the point.
Prescod assumed the "token Black girl" role from a young age. She took her cues from the exclusive white world around her and sought to metaphorically and physically shrink her identity so it would fit into that 'ideal'. The impact on Prescod was severe. Emotionally her internalised prejudice skewed her view of herself, her looks, her body and what interests she cultivated, putting her under enormous pressure. Physically the pressure resulted in her depriving herself of food, leading to bulimia which impacted her life into adulthood.
This obsession with perfectionism led her to pursue a career in fashion and beauty - the literal epicentre of racist and sexist beauty norms. Her working environments were toxic, but by now, Prescod was accustomed to the role of the token Black girl. Sure, she had to put up with her boss's questions about “What was it like to drive to school from the ghetto?” Or her colleagues’ assumptions that her parents were 'on welfare' (the US equivalent of Government funded benefits) but on the plus side, she was excelling and reaping all the benefits that came from being 'in' fashion.
Prescod is searingly honest throughout, admitting to how the toxicity of her environment showed up in her behaviours and treatment of others. As Prescod matured, she developed the vocabulary and confidence to speak out on how Black women’s bodies, hair, language and temperaments were (and continue to be) policed within the fashion and beauty industry and beyond.
Reading this book as someone who has spent two decades years working in advertising as one of the significantly few brown women, I related to a lot of Prescod's experiences, but more importantly, it opened my eyes further to how I can be a better ally to my Black friends and colleagues and in particular Black women.
At its heart, this is a witty and frank personal account of the adverse effects of white supremacy in our media and how damaging concepts of perfection impact how we see ourselves. What’s particularly powerful is how Prescod seamlessly connects her personal experiences to broader societal issues, making this book much more than a memoir.
In the Afterword, Prescod sums up the impact racism has and specifically the insidious nature of anti-Blackness; "Blackness is so demonised that we end up on an endless quest just to prove our humanity." That's the crux of this book. It uses one woman's experiences to demonstrate how society tells Black people, at every opportunity, that they are ‘less than’. In Danielle's words, "Let's account for the harm's that have been done to us" and "...share the collective responsibility of correcting them."
I can't think of a better call to arms and mantra for us all to grab and enact.
Purchase Token Black Girl: A memoir
To edit or not to edit?
Last month, Puffin Books, which holds the rights to all of Roald Dahl's children's books, ignited controversy after they hired sensitivity readers to review the original text of Dahl's works to remove any potentially offensive language.
The review resulted in hundreds of revisions to his books, leading to a barrage of criticism and commentary. What follows are my thoughts on this controversy and whether Puffin was right to revise the books to make the language more inclusive. A topic that I'm naturally super invested in.
© The Guardian
What caused the storm of controversy?
To quickly recap, Puffin and the Roald Dahl Story Company, which Netflix owns, announced that updated versions of Dahl's books would be available that had been edited to make them less likely to offend. Sensitivity readers were engaged in reviewing the original texts; publishers employ these individuals to provide book editors notes on characters from marginalised groups which may offend, culturally appropriate or perpetuate harmful troupes of those groups.
In Dahl's case, they removed words and added entirely new passages. For example, Augustus Gloop is no longer “fat,”. He’s “enormous”, while Mrs Twit from The Twits is no longer “ugly,” just “beastly.”
Uses of the words “black” and “white” were also removed, and so the BFG no longer wears a "black cloak", and characters no longer turn “white with fear. It's worth remembering that the etymology of these particular words has nothing to do with race which is why I assume the changes were made. The word 'black' originates from Old English blæc and means the "absolutely dark, absorbing all light, of the colour of soot or coal". In short, it's not connected to race/ethnicity. Whilst it's true that our language broadly paints everything good in this world as white (white witch, white magic etc.) and negative concepts as black (blackmail, black-hearted, black sheep etc.), the great thing about the English language is that today you can use other words as progressive alternatives, e.g. extortion, outcast, malevolent. Therefore, the removal of ‘black’ and ‘white’ to describe inanimate objects versus concepts is particularly strange.
Publishing has a diversity issue
If we did not have a diversity problem in the publishing industry, we wouldn't need sensitivity readers, so they perform a vital service. The issue for me stems from the rewriting of original texts.
Although sexism, racism and homophobia have always been immoral, society is slowly catching up, and our contemporary language and literature are continuously evolving to reflect this. My favourite authors growing up were Roald Dahl and Enid Blyton. I consumed everything they wrote, and although I lacked the vocabulary at the time, I recognised that specific terms and passages were a product of their time in terms of their inherent sexism and racism. Crucially I was encouraged to discuss those shortcomings by the adults around me.
It's worth highlighting this isn't the first time Dahl's stories have been edited to remove offensive language. The Oompa-Loompas of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory were initially described “as African Pygmy people”, whom Wonka “smuggled” out of Africa in crates. In a 1973 revision of the book, Dahl rewrote the Oompa-Loompas as fantastical creatures akin to fairies or pixes. Most of us would be familiar with this newer depiction, and as we can see, the edit had no bearing on the impact of Dahl's words. The only 'loss' was the racist caricature. The critical point here is that Dahl chose to make the edits himself.
This wasn't the first time Dahl exposed his racism; he also made many antisemitic statements throughout his lifetime, leading to his family issuing an apology in 2020. Two years prior, the Royal Mint dropped plans to commemorate his life with a special edition coin. The Guardian reported the Royal Mint had concluded he was “not regarded as an author of the highest reputation”.
Although Puffin was well-intentioned, we can’t set a precedent where historical works can be altered in response to an ever-shifting cultural climate. Although I promote and advocate for more inclusive language, it's vital we do not try and re-write history and instead use these examples to teach young people how society has evolved for the better. Dahl's works are wonderful and creative, but they also allow us to do better as a society through nuanced and open conversation.
Final thoughts
Whilst most people agree that rewriting existing texts by anyone other than the original author is dangerous, the conflation of this practice as 'woke" and an example of the so-called "culture wars" was infuriating. Those terms have become literal sticks to silence progressive conversations, which is as dangerous as attempts to rewrite historical texts. Why are we so hellbent on wanting to offend and not evolve? That's the conversation I want to have.
How do I know when I'm being performative?
This question comes up regularly at my Language Matters Live sessions, and it's a great question that individuals and organisations should ask themselves regularly. I’ve compiled a series of Q&As to help highlight the typical pitfalls.
Question: Is it performative to suddenly start putting people of colour in our ads and internal communications?
Answer: In a modern, progressive and inclusive society, people should see themselves represented in everyday culture, from movies to TV ads to medical journals. Before the Summer of 2020, this wasn't something brands/organisations focussed on, which meant marginalised communities were overlooked and excluded. That said, representation does not equate to inclusion. As I often say, diversity is a fact; inclusion is a choice, so organisations must use both tools to make and evaluate their plans. If your organisation is happy to put POC/women/a person with a disability/someone from the LBGTQI+ community on a poster but isn't actively creating opportunities within the organisation for people with these identities. In that case, they are 100% performative.
Question: We talk about D&I, but our company is still really white. How are we ever going to change that?
Answer: This is a big question, and employers often put this down to being a pipeline problem - namely, the candidates need to be out there/aren't studying suitable subjects. There are countless studies* that dispel the pipeline myth, so we need to look inwards. Does your company operate a referral system? Is this incentivised? Does your organisation have links to specific educational establishments? Maybe they only take graduates from Russell Group/Ivy League Universities. These are just two ways your organisation upholds the status quo. You need to restructure how you recruit because you will get the same result if you keep doing it the same way.
Question: If we start supporting and promoting Black businesses, will that look weird? Is that racist?
Answer: No! Initiatives like Google's #SpendBlack and 'Black Pound Day' exist because Black business owners are four times more likely to be rejected for loans. When a loan is secured, they pay higher interest rates than other businesses. These initiatives help readdress that balance by introducing shoppers to businesses and brands they may not know, thereby helping traditionally disadvantaged businesses. The initiatives are rooted in creating racial equality, and that's something to be celebrated!
Question: Should we promote Black/Brown influencers to follow as part of Black History Month or South Asian Heritage Month? Or is that weird too?
Answer: Ok, this is much more nuanced. Race is a social construct created to justify colonisation and enslavement, and we continue to see the ramifications of this in countless ways. People are more than their skin colour, but in our racialised societies, we operate in a very reductive way when it comes to those who do not have white skin. White people can represent all people, but a POC represents 'their race'. This helps explain why the pay gap between Black and white influencers stands at a whopping 35%. Many Black influencers saw an influx of followers during the resurgence of the BLM movement as people sought to educate themselves and 'diversify their feed'. Studies show that exposure to people who don't look like you creates more empathy and, in time, less prejudice. It, therefore, follows that if you are striving to be anti-racist, we should be seeking out those with varied life experiences. However, many Black content creators reported that when they talk about topics other than racial justice, they lose followers, the inference being that white followers view Black/Brown influencers differently, as one-dimensional and as a racism resource versus the multidimensional beings that they are! Observe how you interact with Black/Brown influencers. Are you seeing their true humanity or just seeing them through a racial lens, and you'll be off when they talk about fashion or #BlackJoy?
Question: We used to say 'BAME', then that changed to 'POC' and sometimes 'BIPOC', and now I hear people say 'Black and Brown' people. Can I say that as a white person?
Answer: The terms serve a purpose but have shortcomings. Everyone has a race and ethnicity, but these terms centre on whiteness and, therefore, 'other' individuals. BAME (Black and Minority Ethnic), POC (People of Colour) and BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and People of Colour) groups widely diverse groups together and assume that everyone in this group has the same experience, which is wildly simplistic. The use of 'Black and Brown' by Black and South Asian people makes sense as there are experiences that these groups share. However, we must acknowledge that it may actively exclude those from the East and South East Asians/AAPI community.
Because of the model minority myth there’s a belief this group do not experience racism. Confused? That’s because it is confusing! My advice is to practice specificity. If you mean Black, say 'Black'. If you mean to refer to a group, then using the terms POC and BIPOC is fine but acknowledge that these terms have shortcomings. BAME should, however, not be used.
I hope this guide helps you navigate this topic personally and professionally to ensure tangible actions back up your practices.
Thank you for reading
That's it for this month. In last month's issue, I mentioned I’d be writing about Race & Reality TV (focusing on Love Island and the Real Housewives franchises), which was bumped by the Dahl controversy, so I'll share this in April's issue. I love to hear your thoughts, so please leave me a comment, like or share this newsletter with a friend to help other people discover what we discuss here.
One more thing! There are over 150 free resources on Instagram for you and your organisations to make use of from today.
Until next time,
Sadia.
NOTE: I have used an affiliate link, meaning if you make a purchase, I may earn a small commission (approx 3%) at no additional cost to you. Thank you for supporting my work.
SOURCES & STUDIES:
EDIT: Please accept my sincere apologies for not including a Trigger Warning for eating disorders within the book review. It was an oversight on my part and I will ensure I learn from this moving forward, Sadia.
Thanks so much, I really enjoy your newsletters. “Diversity is a fact, inclusion is a choice” is great and a very useful phrase to remember!