When Relatability Fails Us
Or, Who Cheers for White Queers?
This is the Sunday edition of Paging Dr. Lesbian. Plus, this week’s dispatch from the lesbian internet. If you like this type of thing, subscribe! And if you really like this type of thing, why not share it with a few friends?
A common theme of pop culture in the last decade or so has been the idea of “relatability” – the notion that the best media, whether it be stories, characters, plotlines – are the ones that are in some sense relatable to its core audience. This language is frequently used in pop music as well, wherein “good” pop music is said to be popular because it depicts a type of universal experience that listeners around the world can, if not relate to, at least feel some sort of primordial connection to.
This idea of relatability is of course closely entwined with the idea of representation, particularly the notion that better representation (of “minorities,” as it were) will lead to social change. The #RepresentationMatters catchphrase became a rallying cry for this campaign. The heedless optimism of such a simple statement has been critiqued by critics and scholars, particularly for the ways it often obscures material realities and the capitalistic intention of the concept itself. Scholar Kristen Warner writes of “plastic representation,” wherein diversity becomes purely a visual signifier that serves to “flatten the expectation to desire anything more.”
The idea of relatability is itself a part of this broader discourse about representation, wherein viewers or readers stake their claim to characters that not only represent their identity group(s) in some way, but also some deeper part of their life or personality. Within online fandom culture, these nuances can get as specific as fans want, particularly when you consider the freedom fans have in creating their own “headcanons,” ie, their own versions of canon that reflect how they interpret their favorite characters. If you can’t find the type of representation you’re looking for on screen, you might venture into the realm of fanfiction, where you can find versions of your favorite characters wherein they are autistic, or deaf, or struggling with PTSD, or any other number of circumstances that were probably not present in the original text. In this sense, fans are able to eke out what may have been brief moments of relatability in the initial text, expanding them into larger stories that provide a sense of comfort or satisfaction.
This idea of individual relatability then seems counter to Warner’s definition of plastic representation, wherein these representations feel artificial and simply reactive, rather than truly generative. If viewers are now able to seek out media that applies to them specifically, then what is the problem? In my estimation, the problem is that this focus on individual relatability can be myopic at times, and indeed is, in its very definition, entirely inner-focused.
While it is by no means a problem that viewers or readers seek out stories that might specifically apply to their lives, it does become sticky when we consider how these desires become isolating, disengaging viewers from what could be a broader spectrum of media consumption. So as not to leave you entirely with vagueries, I’ll get more specific.
Within sapphic or lesbian fandom specifically, relatability is a central ethos that often defines a fan’s relationship to a chosen media text. This, of course, is true of most strong fan relationships – one finds oneself compelled by a particular text because it touches something within them. The problem here is that when you are only evaluating a piece of media based on its perceived relatability, one’s media consumption becomes siloed. Among sapphic fandom, which often seems to be dominated by the interests of white sapphics, the siloing effect becomes clear. We look to media to reflect us in some way, without considering the fact that these reflections may have the effect of eclipsing, in some sense, the world around us.
When you look at the world of sapphic fandom, the most beloved couples in this arena are white. From Xena and Gabrielle, to Clarke and Lexa, to SuperCorp, the relationships and characters that reach icon status almost always follow this trend. (With a few exceptions, such as Pretty Little Liar’s Emily Fields or Glee’s Santana Lopez). This trend also extends to our real-life icons, the vast majority of whom are also white. To be sure, I’ve also contributed to this trend, as I’ve written about some of these icons without an explicit consideration of how their race plays into said icon status.
Certainly, the overall whiteness of the media landscape contributes to this trend. There simply aren’t as many queer women of color on TV to choose from. But, there are still some, and most have not generated the level of fan engagement as their white counterparts have. Think, for example, of Anissa and Grace on Black Lightning, or Kat and Adena on The Bold Type, or Rutina Wesley’s stunning work as Nova Bordelon on Queen Sugar, or any of the dazzling characters on Vida (which was unfairly canceled after the third season).
In a television era where fan engagement can in fact have a huge effect on the success (or failure) of a show – think, for example of the fan campaigns that literally saved sapphic favorite Wynonna Earp from cancellation – these disparities are not insignificant. As anyone who has been involved at all in queer fandom in the last decade has seen, fans do have the ability to enact change when one’s emotions are channeled into a collective force. Imagine, for a second, if the passionate fervor that followed Lexa’s death on The 100 – leading to the ensuing #LGBTFansDeserveBetter campaign – coalesced around queer characters of color, instead. (Not that the #LGBTFansDeserveBetter campaign was opposed to queer characters of color – rather, they were not explicitly centered in the conversation).
It’s not that white viewers can never relate to characters of color, either – that’s simply not true. Rather, it’s sort of a self-fulfilling and self-perpetuating prophecy. If white sapphics continue searching out media that simply reflects them (literally or figuratively), and then share these findings with their followers, the cycle continues.
Now, I don’t know what the solution is here, apart from seeking out queer stories that don’t simply fit your preconceived notions of what you desire, or how you understand queerness (your own or otherwise). While it may seem like a small thing – what TV shows and movies we watch – it’s never a bad time to interrogate why we like the things we like, and similarly, why we think the way we do.
Certainly, there is nothing wrong with seeking out and reveling in stories that you relate to on a personal level – I do it all the time. But, if this is our only metric for evaluating stories, we are missing the bigger picture. I know the desire for more is here. More stories, more connections, more heroes, more idols. I just hope that we – and by this I mean white sapphics, specifically – can find ways to engage these desires and this passion to get behind something other than our own reflections.
Welcome to this week’s dispatch from the lesbian internet.
In this week’s update about the government not caring about queer people, Biden’s justice department has decided to permit religious schools to discriminate against LGBTQ students, “even if those schools receive federal funding.” Way to go Joe!
In brighter news, JoJo Siwa celebrated her five-month anniversary with her girlfriend on Instagram, continuing to fulfill my need for these monthly updates. Blessed!
On Friday night, Season 2 of the HBO series Betty – which follows a group of young women skaters in New York City – premiered. I mention this partly because I’ve been told that I look like one of the aforementioned skaters and it upsets me that it’s probably true. (I will not tell you which one but if you know me you might be able to guess). Watch the Season 2 trailer below.
In YouTube news, British lesbian couple Jessica and Claudia had their first child this week, and his name is Rupert. This means that fellow British YouTubers Rose and Rosie’s baby will be popping out any day now. Mazel tov!
In music news – in case you missed it – Megan Thee Stallion, Lorde, MARINA (without the diamonds), Doja Cat, Clairo, Sleater-Kinney, and Jessie Ware all released new songs or albums this week. This means we all have no excuse to not have a hot girl summer, as exemplified by this summer’s hottie hero, Tessa Thompson. Cheers!
To read this week: This and this on Barry Jenkin’s stunning The Underground Railroad, and this about Mare of Easttown being a cop show. Also, this piece about the trauma of the Pulse shooting, five years out.
That’s all for this week folks. Tune in for more next week. I will leave you with these iconic images of Gillian Anderson from the 2001 Vanity Fair Oscar party, which I hope you all have seen before.
