White Space: A Black "Ghetto Nerd" Reflects on His Experience at Chicon 7, the 70th World Science Fiction Convention

Last week, I attended Chicon 7, the 70^th World Science Fiction Convention which was held here in Chicago. I was able to do this because of the monies donated by the readers and friends of We Are Respectable Negroes. I would like to reiterate my thanks for their kindness and generosity.

As a ghetto nerd, I come to conventions with a set of assumptions which are based upon previous experiences. I also try to be open minded as each convention or gathering has its own particular personality and vibe. There are many different subcultures and hobbies among those who are self-described geeks and nerds. Consequently, I try to experience each space on its own merits. 

Our personhood is defined by many things. For example, as a person of color and a member of the working class--one who is also a sci-fi, comic book, space fantasy, pro-wrestling loving, child of the hip hop generation who studies and teaches about race and cultural politics in the United States--my critical gaze is informed by those life experiences, hobbies, habits, and interests.

By extension, I cannot help but view Chicon 7 through that lens.

In all, I was very much impressed by the sense of comradery, friendship, and warmth that the attendees of the conference showed one another. I was also very much impressed by how accessible the writers, guests of honor, and other featured attendees were towards their fans. Chicon 7 had a vibe that was supportive of science fiction as an artistic and intellectual project first, and where ego was secondary to these broader goals. And based upon the quality of the questions asked during the panels I attended, there are some pretty smart folks among sci-fi fandom. For an author to impress such a public, he or she had sure be bringing their best game.

However, all was not perfect (is it ever?). I chatted with some sci-fi writers and attendees at Chicon 7 who shared with me their concerns about the dynamics surrounding race, identity, inclusion, and fandom. I also attended the panels which explicitly dealt with questions of marginalization, inclusion, and diversity in science fiction literature and fan culture.

In the interest of parsimony, and because I cannot resist any reference to Clint Eastwood given his empty chair agitprop stunt at the Tea Party GOP convention last week, let’s work through the good, the bad, and the ugly of Chicon 7 as I experienced it.

The Good.

1. The willingness of the attendees to make suggestions about books to total strangers, share personal insights, and to be invested in the success of the event was impressive. There were folks there who had attended many World Science Fiction Conventions in the past and Chicon 7 was a reunion to be celebrated. This was their “geek prom.” The attendees reveled in this fact.

2. The major authors who volunteered their time on panels where they gave advice on the craft of writing and breaking into the business were invaluable. I got a sense that these established figures were legitimately interested in the success of the journeyman writers with whom they spoke.

3. There was a general sense that much more can be done to make science fiction a more inclusive space. The organizers of the event actually scheduled panels on this very problem. This is a type of introspection that should be encouraged among majority white, geek and nerd culture--and its gatekeepers and fans.

4. I have a new favorite quote: "when A.I. comes into existence it will be smart enough to hide from us." This is a brilliant, insightful, and scary observation.

The Bad

1. While there was a willingness to entertain some basic questions about what sci-fi is doing wrong in regards to challenging the normality of (male and heterosexual) Whiteness that still governs the genre, as well as events such as Chicon 7, there were only a few panels on race, gender, or sexuality. Out of the many dozens of offerings, I counted four that directly dealt with these issues. Of this small number, only two directly and critically engaged questions of race and representation in science fiction. The other panels were meditations on how science fiction could be more “inclusive,” or where a reader can find books that feature folks who are not “white, heterosexual, and male.”

There were also no panels that took the inclusion of people of color as a given and not as an outlier or a problematic. Alternatively, there were no panels that interrogated issues of whiteness, power, and canon in science fiction. Given that science fiction has historically solved the “race question” by writing people of color out of the frame (or making us into robots and aliens as metaphors for talking about "the race problem") this was a glaring oversight.

People of color (as well as others) are marginalized within the science fiction community. Science fiction would be greatly improved as a genre if these other voices were foregrounded--and put in leadership positions at high profile events such as Chicon 7.

2. Visible discomfort and upsetness. There were several moments when issues surrounding race, gender, sexuality (or questions about white privilege) in science fiction were introduced by a panelist—or troublemakers like me—and the eye rolling annoyance by a good number of white men in the audience was readily apparent. Their responses to these questions and interventions were always polite; however, the energy suggested that these subjects were problems for “those people,” and not the “good” and “forward thinking” white people who are into science fiction. As is my common refrain: racism is not an opinion; the lie of post-racial "colorblind" America is that discussing race makes one a "racist." This is perverse and backward thinking. Unfortunately, such wrongheadedness is common place--even at a science fiction convention.

3. It is a bad look when a group of white folks get up and walk out of a panel on steam punk—a very white imaginary where colonialism and imperialism as global systems are conveniently white-washed—because they do not want to have their fantasy derailed or challenged. 

4. I would also suggest that white folks who want to write about the “Other” not refer to themselves as “just a white boy” while they then proceed to talk about “Native American Cultures.” There was, is, and are no uniform “Native American cultures.” 

Moreover, using the phrase “white boy” is a dishonest and insincerely self-effacing act because it is a way of giving yourself permission to be a racist, and also to exercise privilege, as you “didn’t know any better and only had good intentions.” My suggestion for this dilemma is to write good characters, live a little bit, and get to know different types of people…who don’t all look like you.

5. Like a ghost, Peggy McIntosh’s “Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack of White Privilege” always makes an appearance when race and white privilege are discussed by otherwise well-meaning white people who are somewhat aware of these issues. Please people, I am begging you, stop mentioning that damn essay: deferring to white people’s expertise when talking about racism is itself an act of white privilege and white supremacy. Start with Du Bois, and other people of color before you become giddy with the “discovery” of white privilege. Black and brown folks were doing it better, first, and many years before the Invisible Knapsack of Privilege first circulated on these Internets.

John Scalzi’s great blog post on white male privilege was also enthusiastically mentioned in the same panel (he was at Chicon 7 so the allusion was a timely one). Be warned: it will at some point usurp McIntosh’s work. And yes, I would offer the same critiques about its use by white anti-racists as I did McIntosh's essay.

White people who want to be serious anti-racists need to go to the source, the well-spring, and not those white activists who are at the other end of the river.

6. It is also funny--at least to my eyes--how well-intentioned white anti-racists can be simultaneously invested in fighting oppression and 1) only have white people on their panel(s) and 2) privilege the experiences, voices, feelings, and complaints of white people in a room where there are black and brown folks present. We are all embedded in systems of domination, subordination, power, privilege, and authority. Even those white folks who are trying to win the good fight need to be aware of their own assumptions, and how their behaviors often reproduce the very systems they are ostensibly fighting against.

If sister Jane Elliot, a stomp down, ride or die, white woman had been present, she would have cussed the whole room out. 

7. Scheduling one of the few panels on issues of diversity and representation in science fiction opposite of The Carl Brandon Society Awards is just an epic scheduling failure.

8. Panels are usually only as good as the moderator/discussant allows them to be. If you would rather be giving a paper (instead of serving as a moderator) please do so. That choice is much more preferable than you talking over the panelists, answering every question you pose to them, and generally trying to use the panel as a chance to get your own shine on. Also, as a moderator, please try to get a sense of how the audience is responding to the discussion. In addition, please realize that your own very narrow set of interests may not be shared by those on the panel or in the audience. Let your guests do their thing while you provide some direction and conduct the orchestra.

The Ugly

1. In a major city such as Chicago, I counted twenty or so non-white attendees at the conference. Of those who were on panels, I would guess that there were 5 or so people of color. There were some 6 thousand people at Chicon 7. The organizers have to do better.

2. To the guy who sat in on the panel about Science Fiction and Philosophy. Ayn Rand is not a great writer. Nor is she a particularly insightful thinker. Please stop mentioning her with such worshipful glee—Rand was a hypocrite who did not live her own libertarian principles as she died sucking on the government tit.

3. There was lots of white male bravado, triumphalism, and an exaggerated sense of confidence that science fiction was “their” space, on display at Chicon 7. Quite a few white male panelists slipped effortlessly between an unqualified “we” and “us” when talking about science fiction, questions of morality and ethics, identity, "moral and social relativism," and justice. This was also common among the audience members. You are not “us.” Please stop deploying the universal “I.” Many of the questions and comments were also uncritically Eurocentric. Folks need to get into the second half of the 20^th century…never mind the 21^st.

4. It is also troubling that when questions about adding more people of color and women to the finalist lists for certain awards, and as invited guests for the event were broached with the planning committee, that the myth of meritocracy reared its ugly head. There are many folks working in science fiction who are not white and male. They are also doing work that is at least as good as the white men who dominate the field. 

The phrase “qualified” minority or female job candidate is so pernicious because it presumes that all white men are competent. I do not believe that the planners of Chicon 7 acted out of malice; white privilege and other systems of inequality are made real through taken for granted assumptions about who should be included and who ought to be naturally excluded. Unfortunately, those assumptions are rarely challenged.

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Ultimately, Chicon 7 is an embodiment of the social cleavages, struggles, and challenges of the larger culture and dominant society. The whiteness of the convention, and by extension that of mainstream science fiction more generally, is striking because the genre is supposed to be so progressive.

Yes, Chicon 7 was a great event. Yes, it was fun to see folks who are often on the sidelines of what is considered “normal” in mainstream society get their chance to shine for a few days. But Chicon 7, and science fiction as a genre and as a community, still has a good amount of work to do regarding matters of inclusion and diversity.