About a month ago, my publisher got a request for a review copy of A Wish After Midnight. We were pretty excited–Wish was going to be featured in Library Journal! But when I found out my novel would be reviewed in a “street lit” column, I balked—there’s NO WAY my book fits within that category! Just a glance at some of those covers made me cringe. Then I visited their site and found this definition, which helped me prove my point:
Typical elements include a rags-to-riches theme, references to the hip-hop music industry, profanity, urban slang, erotic sex scenes, criminal activity, or violence that escalates to murder. But that’s just part of it. Often the story line is circular so that plot points from the novel’s opening pages come into play at the climax.
I put my foot down but ultimately reached out to the reviewer, Vanessa Irvin Morris; the conversation we had (via email) helped me understand why she wanted to include Wish in her column. We decided not to do the review, but I will be visiting Vanessa’s librarian book club this Friday. I haven’t actually read much street lit, so I thought it made sense to invite Vanessa to share her own ideas about the value of this much-disparaged genre.
Welcome, Vanessa, and thanks for agreeing to share your opinions and insights. Can you begin by giving us your definition of “street lit”?
Well, this is what I am seeking to articulate with my research with my colleague librarians. I am facilitating two (2) librarian bookclubs where we are taking a year to read various iterations of what can be perceived of as “street lit.” So we are looking at – what is this thing called ‘street lit’? What characteristics make a book (fiction or non-fiction, regardless of format) street literature? What do we mean when we say “street” when we couple it with the word “literature?” Are we talking “city?” Are we talking “ghetto?” Are we talking black people? Poor people? Working class people? Criminals? Or all peoples living in urban settings? Are we talking about narratives that detail happenings in streets? Because if that is the case, all communities have streets. So we are still investigating this “definition” of what “street lit” is. At present, I can commit myself to say that if we colloquially understand “the streets” to be specific to urban locations, we can further state that when we’re talking about street lit we’re talking about a colloquial lens through which “street” is perceived, understood, and defined. If we take that to be the case, then we can say that street lit is a literary genre that tells stories, both fictive and real, about the everyday lives of citizens surviving city-fied lifestyles in urban settings.
There has been resistance on the part of some educators, librarians, and parents to the inclusion of street lit in school libraries and/or curricula. Yet the books are extremely popular with many teens. What drives this resistance?
I think what drives this resistance is the same thing that inspires censorship of any other kind of material – fear. Usually, educators (teachers and librarians) and parents are afraid that children will “do” what they read. Understandably, we hold an awesome reverence and regard for the written word. So when our children independently choose to read materials that are beyond what we deem to be morally, ethically, and intellectually “good” or high quality – we become afraid of its impact. However, I believe that what is missing from this clarity of literary power, is clarity of and respect for the intelligence of youth and the sophistication of their intellectual approaches to discerning their own reading tastes and interests.
I believe we also seek to de-emphasize negativity in our readings, be it our readings of books, media, or one another’s behaviors, because we only want to see, recognize and deal with what we deem is “good.” To see, recognize, and deal with what we deem is “not good” is stressful and begs for our responsive action somehow. What is dangerous about this denial, though, is that when we keep children from exploring a variety of experiences in their reading that includes the “dark side” if you will, we limit their potential to practice synthesizing these virtual experiences (imagination ignited by reading) with their own real life experiences, which are encapsulated in memory. So you have a person, regardless of age, who has memory (filed experiences) engaging in readings of virtual experiences via books, and from the intertexuality of reconciling the real with the virtual via the reading experience, a heightened sense of self awareness and understanding emerges. When we censor books from readers, we rob them of this very necessary maturation process, across all life stages. We actually stunt their intellectual and, possibly, emotional growth.
Can you comment on the potential usefulness of street lit in schools or libraries; what does it offer teen readers that they can’t find in other genres?
It has been my experience and observation in working with teen readers of street lit that it instills the reading habit in them. I’ve worked with teens who had never read a book from cover to cover before – until they came across The Coldest Winter Ever by Sister Souljah or True to the Game by Teri Woods. If we look at street lit texts as cultural artifacts, they have authentic purpose for schools and libraries. As in any genre, you have your “cream of the crop” and you have your “duds,” so to speak; so educators must choose what is most appropriate, and offer up space for students to also have voice in what they deem is appropriate. I know of one high school English teacher who read Black by Tracey Brown with her English class. This teacher was Caucasian, and was teaching in an inner city high school. Salisbury and Shakespeare weren’t connecting with these students (they didn’t connect with me as an inner city teen during the 1970s and 1980s either). She needed to engage her students in reading text before turning them on to the traditionally canonical stuff. So she used street lit as a gateway to canonical literature, and it worked. Recently, in my librarian bookclubs, we read Native Son by Richard Wright. One librarian said, “Slap a current street lit cover on this book – and I bet you kids will read this, too.” The point is that when you give teen readers books they can relate to, this is a powerful approach to igniting them as lifelong readers and learners. And yes, they do move on from street lit. I have teen readers who are now in college and/or graduating high school, who now no longer read street lit. They read it and enjoyed it when they were in the 7th – 10th grades, and then from there, they moved into other genres, stories, and readings. That’s the power of street lit: the power to make a public that didn’t read before into readers.
You advocate for broadening the street lit genre to include literary novels about the city. Can you explain your rationale for combining what many people consider to be two very distinct kinds of writing?
For me as a librarian, it is not about the writing, it is about the story. There are many literary novels that I do not understand or connect to because I don’t understand or cannot appreciate the writing, be it dialect that is not from my experience or background, or writing style that just doesn’t vibrate with my tastes. This doesn’t mean that that book is not literary and/or not of value. So who is to say that there aren’t street lit novels that are “literary” in the traditional sense? I really want to know – who is to say? The stories told in street lit are real, moving, jarring, interesting, exciting, crazy, zany, and everything in between. There are street lit novels that are “well written” (whatever that means) and coherently packaged in such a way that they can appeal to a mass audience. Authors like Wahida Clark, Shannon Holmes and K’wan come to mind. And regardless of what today’s educators say, Coldest Winter Ever is canonical, and WILL become an addition to the literary canon. This is my prediction. If you dig Anne Petry, you’ll understand the importance of Coldest Winter Ever. If you dig Zora Neale Hurston, you’ll understand the authenticity of Coldest Winter Ever. Push by Sapphire is another street lit story that is canonical – considered literary, and yet, let’s be honest, it’s virtually unreadable. But again, I believe that all writing is purposeful. I “git” why Sapphire wrote the story the way she did, as obviously, so do a lot of other people, since the novel has now been made into a movie. So it’s not about the writing per se – it’s more about the story. Street lit stories are just as literary as any other genre’s stories.
How do you respond to critics who claim that street lit reinforces negative stereotypes and/or glamorizes illicit, dysfunctional behavior? Does street lit speak to the possibility of urban life, or only the (bleak) reality?
Negative behavior reinforces negative behavior. Literature aids in negotiating, navigating, and synthesizing life experience. Thus if the behavior is already embedded in a person or community based on life experience, literature may reflect that, but it is still the human, or community, that chooses to reinforce or evolve beyond negative behavior. Some people reading a street lit novel might say that the genre does not glamorize negative behavior. Some might say it tells it like it is. Whatever street lit is doing, I think the more important challenge is to listen to what it is saying. This contemporary phase of the genre is telling us something. It is documenting a time in American history when urban life for some residents was more intense than what mainstream culture may have realized. What is street lit trying to say to us? It is definitely shouting, because it is an incredibly prolific genre. So it keeps coming and coming – we are a decade into this literary renaissance. Why? There is a reason. What is it saying about urban life? Perhaps for those who write the stories and for those who read the stories, urban life is bleak, and reading the genre helps to validate and make some sense of chaotic real life experiences: again, synthesizing memory with the imaginative to further self understanding.
What question do you wish more people would ask about street lit?
I wish people would ask, “What can we learn from these stories?” “What are these stories trying to tell us about ourselves as a culture? As a people? As a nation?” It would be especially useful if Black people did not ostracize one another with this genre. It is not about “this shows us in a bad light” and that tired old song. That song denotes that we’re singing for an outside audience (i.e. mainstream culture). I believe that it’s healthier for us, as a people, to look at the genre more thoughtfully and reflectively (and sing to the choir, if you will), listen to the genre, and critique it in terms of aiming to make sense of what the authors and readers are telling us about ourselves with the prolific writings and readings of these stories. A clarion call is being made about the state of Black America via this genre, and the genre is also historicizing critical realities that many people live with on a daily basis. When we denigrate one another over the merits of this genre, we miss the bigger question, the bigger conversation, about who we are as a culture. I say let’s not be ashamed of street lit. Let’s embrace these stories as a representation of an aspect of who we are as a human family whose life stories interweave across the entire spectrum of human experience, imagination, and memory. When we accept all of who we are, that is when we begin to love all of who we are, and then we are empowered to evolve. This is my view. Thank you for listening.
If “Wish” is considered “street lit” I can only conclude that “street lit” means “black” because obviously there aren’t any *other* kinds of blacks…
(That was sarcastic, anybody else reading this comment, in case you couldn’t see that!!!)
Hey, Jill. Well, it’s a bit more narrow b/c Wish *is* about a low-income family living in the city; there *is* discussion of crime, and the protagonist *is* searching for a way out…when I wrote my master’s thesis I focused on “urban narratives”–and that included PUSH and Ann Petry’s The Street..but I read Coldest Winter Ever and decided it didn’t belong…I don’t think books *about* the city or set within the city can all be lumped together. It’s not just the subject matter or any common themes, it’s also the quality of the writing and a certain self-conscious effort to engage with the existing literary tradition. But that does smack of elitism as well, and I see a difference between what should be available in a public library and what should be taught in a college classroom…Vanessa and I wrote some VERY long emails as we tried to articulate our different positions!
Wow, what a great interview! Lots of interesting insights. Thank you both!
Sometimes my Libra nature shows too much and it becomes way to difficult for me to make my point.
It is difficult for me to be totally non-bias in conversations about urban lit because it just doesn’t appeal to me. That having been said, I do know there is research out there validating various aspects of street/urban/hiphop fiction. I hear over and over that students are able to find themselves in these books, and isn’t that we all want: to find ourselves in books? If we don’t find ourselves, why keep reading? Isn’t that why we want more books for and by POC?
I think school libraries are tricky situations. As a school librarian, I have to answer to parents and stakeholders regarding what is in my collection. True, 96% of all YA fiction could probably be challenged, but I think books with gratuitous sex, profanity and drug use, that does not move the story along, makes a book difficult to defend in a challenge. I have seen discussions about street lit that argue that ‘Push’ is not of this genre. Is it? Don’t know! I do know that not all African American literature is not street lit and not all street lit is African American!
At the same time, I find it quite interesting that Salinger, Twain, Rowling and Morrison are continually challenged (asked to be removed from the media center) but adult urban lit never is.
Some students ask me for ‘drama’ but too many request ‘murder’, ‘sex’ or ‘lots of cussing’. Perhaps they’re looking for stories they can relate to, but I remember reading as a teen and the fascination with grown up books.
I applaud Vanessa’s efforts to define an legitimize this genre. Something I had to learn to hope to be successful as a librarian is that it’s not about my personal taste!
I learned something today! Thanks for posting this interview.
edi asks good questions…this is a complex discussion. as a school library volunteer, i do see students clamoring for books that would be considered ‘street lit’. i know that for many of our students, it’s an exciting trip into a world with a lot more ‘drama’ than their own, for some it’s very familiar, and for others, who knows? they just like it. my approach is to respect the choices they make, sometimes ask questions about them, and make suggestions of my own that broaden their reading experiences. thanks for posting this!
First AWAM is not street lit as most street lit readers would define the genre. Glad you declined.
While I don’t read street lit personally, I did take time to read some and to ask readers why they enjoy it. As a volunteer librarian, I do put it on our shelves and I don’t condone censorship. I start with where my readers are. I don’t tell my readers they shouldn’t read it. I wait for an opportunity to ask if they like to something they haven’t read. I don’t want to persuade them to stop reading street lit as much as I want them to become open to other books.
I will say that what I have read of the lit my girls like, it wasn’t written well and that has nothing to do with the settings or language but the writing style.
While Push and Coldest Winter Ever fall into urban lit, I don’t see it as street. I don’t lump these with books that to me read like something cranked out with as much substance and thought as tabloid fiction.
I think we too narrowly define these books. It’s like saying all rap is the same and I’ve learned that isn’t the case at all.
There are a lot of genres that don’t appeal to me so for me, rejecting street lit isn’t a resistance to reality I don’t want to read about it is the style and delivery that don’t appeal. Regardless of my preference, I believe in being informed to what appeals to readers so in our library, you’ll Clark to Morrison.
Just want to follow up with Edi and Susan’s comments. I think the difference between titles like PUSH and the ones that tend to fall into the Street Lit category is the author’s analysis (and, perhaps, intent). In PUSH (and AWAM) there is a clear analysis of the socio-economic factors that play into a main character’s experiences. And that analysis shows up on the page. It shows up in the way the character navigates her journey through choices and decisions. To me, the white version of Street Lit seems to be shows like Gossip Girl, and perhaps books along the same lines. Often, it’s indulgence to the extreme, with extreme consequences; a world that is more of a “mirror” than a window or a door. While there’s certainly room for both, I think there is something to be said about windows and doors that offer a new vision; and authors who are actively engaged, through their creative work, in actually shaping a world that operates on a different set of values and beliefs.
When I put this in the context of what my girls consume, vis-a-vis media and cultural products, it becomes a bit clearer. It’s not about fear–for me, anyway. While I don’t mind if my kids watch The Bratz and Cinderella and all the other mass market “mirrors” out there, what I want to keep putting in their way is food for the soul. Nourishment that will help them to *re-envision* their worlds, to see new possibilities, new avenues they might otherwise never look for; books and films that critique their environment and offer alternatives. That’s what WISH did for me and, I’m guessing, does/will do for the young people who read it. If a book does that, I’m more willing to fight for its inclusion on library shelves. There are tons of books that get banned for ridiculous reasons. If they contain profanity, sex, whatever, but those elements are used to critique commonly-held values of control, domination, consumerism, misogyny, racism, homophobia, etc. and THEN offer up new ways of being, I’ll fight for those books *and* buy them for all the young people I know.
Sorry for the long comment, Z
.
Don’t apologize, Neesha! This is the conversation Vanessa really wants people to have (I think). It’s interesting to consider whether street lit functions as a mirror, window, or sliding door, to borrow Rudine Sims Bishop’s metaphor. Like Gbemi said, not all street lit readers see themselves in the books; there’s a LOT of voyeurism going on, I think, precisely b/c the world being described is NOT the world that’s familiar to most–even IF you’re working class and living in the city. If that world IS your world, then street lit is the mirror you need and deserve to find in books. The sliding door bit is a little trickier, and here’s where a lot of the fear comes in: if hustling isn’t your reality, and yet you find it exciting and alluring, you just *might* try to slide open that door and find a place for yourself in that world. That fear is not entirely irrational, I don’t think, though I agree that street lit can potentially function as a cautionary tale. Some of you already know that I have a hard time with the “if they read this, they just might read that” theory. To me it’s kind of like saying porn and feminist cinema belong in the same category b/c ultimately, they’re all films about women. So if someone’s watching a lot of porn, eventually they just might lean toward feminist cinema. They won’t unless they’re given the critical tools to DISCRIMINATE between the different kinds of films and ways of telling a story. I agree with Neesha–authorial intent is crucial.
Ah–hadn’t considered the voyeurism angle. True. When I was a teen, there were shows I watched and books I read that glamorized self-destructive behaviours and thought patterns. I accepted those without questioning them, and dreamt of living such “exciting” experiences. I know, without a doubt, that young people now do the same with the shows they watch and the stories they read. I guess that’s where it’s important to me that young people, in particular, are offered an array of choices and representations of themselves and their surroundings. And, quite frankly, I’m going to do my darndest to provide my girls with more representations of powerful women making decisions based on self-love, self-respect, non-consumerism, etc. They’ll get enough of the other stuff every day, in every other venue.
I really disagree with the interviewee’s answers about the value [sic] of street lit, even for non readers.
When you look at legal and religious precepts, these form bridges for people to go from who they *are* to who they can *be.* Law and religion represent the ideal to which to aspire; and they INspire because of that; because they are not what IS, they are what CAN BE. I don’t see why any literature should be otherwise.
As Gramsci noted, there are two aspects to domination: physical power, but also a system of beliefs that permeates consciousness and causes the dominated person or group to accept the conditions of oppression as inevitable. I see street lit as contributing to the perpetuation and even promulgation of this system of beliefs.
I believe that street lit (and street culture generally) reinforces the notion of separation which in this society unfortunately corresponds with powerlessness and stereotyping which leads to further powerlessness. To the extent that what constitutes race is culturally determined, this does not have to be inevitable. Stories create and/or reinforce consensus and shared understandings; why shouldn’t they reinforce an elevated understanding of life that will valorize something better than the sexualization of young girls, and the lack of dignity and respect in young people for themselves and for each other generally?
I understand the point you’re trying to make, but sometimes you don’t see the picture if no one paints it.
“Stories create and/or reinforce consensus and shared understandings; why shouldn’t they reinforce an elevated understanding of life that will valorize something better than the sexualization of young girls, and the lack of dignity and respect in young people for themselves and for each other generally?”
I love this.
Wow, what an awesome interview and a really good conversation. Thanks so much for turning this experience into a teachable moment for us, Zetta!
I have very little positive things to say about street lit, but Vanessa made me think more critically about what this literature could be saying about our particular moment in time. I’m grateful for this. I also like the point Neesha makes about valuing the books that strive not just to present a painful reality, but to give the reader the tools to critique it, as Wright does in Native Son.
At the same time, every generation has its pulp fiction and this is no exception. 50 years ago there were Senate hearings on whether or not comics were turning American children into delinquents. Today, few people care about that. Go back even further and you find black parents fretting over little girls who listened to the sexually explicit lyrics of Bessie Smith after school.
One thing that I would like to see acknowledged here, however, is the role that marketing (publishers and bookstores) play in promoting this particular genre non-stop. Doesn’t there come a point where shelves no longer reflect reader demands, but shape them by providing access to such a narrow selection. Why do I have to hunt for Percival Everett’s latest and “special order” Carleen’s book and there are 30 freakin’ copies of Zane stacked on the floor? I know this is an old argument, but that’s my frustration.
Hey, Claudia–we’re actually discussing Erasure at this week’s librarian book club meeting! Too bad you can’t join us…
I also keep thinking of the blues, and even the way folktales and jokes/signifyin’/playin’ the dozens weren’t included under the umbrella of AfAm Literature until quite recently. I think the backlash against street lit might also have something to do with the way hip hop culture has dominated US popular culture for the past decade…a lot of black folks feel rappers don’t speak to their reality, yet the image of the thug/ho dominates TV and film–and now literature as well…so I agree: a lot of us just want balance.
Jill–I absolutely believe the purpose of art is not only to show what’s real, but what’s possible…
This interview has made take a tiny step back. However, my feelings towards “street” lit remain in tact. As mentioned in a few comments, it’s the writing style that’s often more the problem for me than the content. Most books that fall into this subgenre seem to have been written by the very high schoolers flocking to read them. Also, the content does often seem to romanticize street life. Perhaps my feelings lie in the fact that those stories are not representative of my life. There’s no appeal in them for me, not even as a voyeur.
As for those types of books being some sort of gateway for teens to canonical literature, I can’t see that working in an unguided situation. Even most of the adults I know that read “street” lit never grow beyond it in their reading.
“unguided”–I agree, Terri. What incentive would a street lit fan have for picking up a book that didn’t have graphic sex or violence, and perhaps utilized sophisticated literary devices? My worry is that those who read street lit–if they’re satisfied with the genre–will then have an *expectation* that THAT is what literature ought to be/do…
thanks for the fascinating interview, but what I really want to say is that the cover of Wish is utterly lovely!
thanks, Charlotte!
[...] that’s very popular with many urban library patrons (you can read my interview with Vanessa here). The group had read A Wish After Midnight, and it was interesting to hear their [...]
Claudia, you’re so right in pointing out every generation has its pulp fiction. Thanks for throwing in a brief historical popular culture perspective as you offered your opinion to this discussion. Great points! Like Claudia, Vanessa and et all, I respect the right for anyone to read whatever they can get their hands on. So while I attempt to respect that as a librarian behind the desk I have to admit that I did practice ordering preferences when I ordered titles for teens in my library collection in Atlanta. (Truth be told we all do). The few urban/street lit titles that were coming out some years ago that I initially read weren’t nearly edited enough to convey the story well—and in my humble opinion, even Sistah Souljah’s Coldest Winter could have stood a few more pages of editing. But I ordered a few anyway just in case they were asked for by my Afr Am adult readers who didn’t visit the library as frequently as my ‘die-hard ‘ Afr Am readers who visited once or twice a month. Economically however, when purchasing money became tight my spending was geared to those who frequented the library more, were checking out books, coming in and handing me suggestions for their next bookclub pick. When Afr Amer teens came in requesting Zane, we had it because that was what adult bookclubs were reading. Zane for Afr Am teens then was the new Judy Blume–even more so than the then burgeoning Gossip Girl series. Yet even when they came in I have to admit I sure was trying to get them to read titles not on their reading list other than the standard Walter Dean Myers or Mildred Taylor. I pushed Martha Southgate, Tayari Jones, Sharon M. Draper and even Sapphire’s Precious with minimal success. However I seemed to have greater success among teens, both boys & girls, to pick up titles when I had an opportunity to read the text in an afterschool setting. The teens with whom I had the honor of visiting would want to read the book on their own after we or they would take turns reading passages. Now by no means should I the adult expect to participate in the leisure reading experience of a teen reader, I wouldn’t want to. It’s up to the teen to invite others to discuss and share their reading experience with others teens and any adult. However once I have been given permission to share my review and we’re excited about the book or theme, the challenge for me as a practicing young adult/children librarian who enjoys creating activities around literature is how creative can one be in programming around urban lit. Do I ask a pimp and a ho to come in to discuss their careers for a Career Day program? Should I plan a trip so that we can take the kids to a crack house or the aftermath of drive-by? Heck, can I see at least a few SAT vocabulary words thrown in there if there is supposed to be some message espoused in this novel just for the hell of it?
While many of my librarian colleagues have an opportunity to provide fun activities with some of the blockbuster YA titles—Harry Potter immediately comes to mind but more recently the Percy Jackson Olympian series, how imaginative or fantastical can I be with urban lit’s subject matter? Can’t a teen just be a teen and not go through a drive-by to discover that drugs can be bad for you? Does a good book make if it has a moral to the story amidst the background of violence? If publishers wanted to be promote authentic voices, why don’t they invest in bringing in a pimp for a YA booksigning and see how well THAT will go over in Barnes & Noble. I can guarantee you that adults would probably leave their kids at home, if not, themselves for the Q&A. Oh yeah that cash cow would immediately be sacrificed and then slaughtered if these books were met with anger by a wider audience.
Hi there. I just started blogging. You can find me on wordpress. Title of my blog is “A color that’s only paint” It’s from a story out of my book. Your blog was automatically generated. I thought that was pretty funny because the title of my book is “Over the Edge: Stories from the Street Life.” But I digress. Thanks for blogging about this. My story is definitely from the streets. I won’t go into it here but it is definitely not glamorized. There seems to be this incredible cultural blindness about the lives of many, many people in the USA — and other countries as well. “Street Lit” seems to be a convenient categorization of any material that doesn’t ascribe to a middle class, spit polished, life of well tended neuroses, I guess. People see only what they want to and dump everything else in the “other” category. A good story, written well, leads the reader to discover their own truths–even more when the reader can readily relate to the protagonist. Look at Dickens. Serialized in the newspapers. The original “Street Lit.” Keep Blogging. I’ll keep reading.
Books are like doors, opening us up to other peoples insights and experiences. My issues with street lit, is that those doors usually reflect a sensationalized vision of urban despair, leaving its readers none the wiser for having taken the journey. Especially if the writers of those books are motivated by dollar signs, yet don’t have the common sense to hit spell check. Though that should be left to the reader to figure out for themselves. Censorship is clearly dangerous, given the level of elitism in the publishing & art world