Ijeoma Oluo: “In a better world, I’d tell different tales”
The author of ‘Be A Revolution’ on race in America, the role of writers as activists, and how all writing is political
Tell us about Be A Revolution? How did you conceptualize it?
Before Be A Revolution, I had written two books on race in America and I had decided I was going to be taking a break from it. But, in 2020, with the global pandemic and the uprising for black lives, it struck me how important community was for our survival, especially communities of colour, the black community, how much people were coming together, not only to protest together, but to take care of each other, find resources. And I wanted to show that. I wanted to highlight what people do. People ask me all the time, ‘What can we do? It’s so hard, what can we do?’ And I wanted to show what people have already been doing. I wanted to embark upon a project that really highlighted and honoured people who are doing the important work to care for communities of colour across the United States.
With Donald Trump’s second win, how do you see the role of writers as activists? Do you feel we can have them as two separate categories in this political climate, or is all writing political?
I think that all writing is political because story is the first thing that anybody who wants to accomplish anything with politics, any oppression, any war… Nothing starts without a story. What we document, how we document, who tells our stories, what stories we tell, that shapes how we see the world and how we interact with the world. If we don’t see it, we do know that those who wish to harm us do see it, because the first persons attacked in times of fascism or violence are journalists, writers, storytellers, artists. They (those who wish harm) want to make sure that not only does the truth not get out, but also that we don’t tell stories that could inspire and move people toward a better future. It is going to be so vital that we not only talk about what is happening, but that we continue to share our experiences of the world and our visions for the future beyond what we’re experiencing right now if we’re going to be able to get through this.
How would you say your own writing has evolved?
When I first started writing as an adult, it was very personal. It was me trying to understand and help other people understand my perspective as a Black American and why we needed to be talking about these issues. I will say I have absolutely become more radical over the years with my writing. I spent day in and day out for many years studying, writing, and talking about systemic harm. It becomes very clear when you have to keep saying the same things over and over again how little words mean without action. I will say, actually, having to keep writing the same stories I was writing eight years ago, 10 years ago, has radicalized me further as far as what change we actually need to have if we’re going to be able to tell a different story than the one we’re telling right now.
Racism is embedded in the very making of America. But do you as a Black woman also feel the pressure to constantly write on this subject? Do you feel sometimes that this is also a constraint though it’s very important to have your voice heard?
Yes, I do feel that I’m doing the work I’m supposed to be doing right now only because of the world and the state of the world and the way that it combines with the talents that I have. Is this the type of writing I wanted to do with my life? Absolutely not. I love writing.
I love words. I’ve loved books since I was a small child. I don’t think any small, young Black child who loves books says, I want to write about racism when I grow up. Sometimes I’m very upset that this is what my talent goes to, even while I still feel very proud that I can serve my community. I want us all to be able to live our lives according to what calls us, what fulfils us, what satisfies us, and not what we have to do. I am trying to find that balance. I think if we lived in a better world, I would be writing very different stories.
Guilt is another constant thread in your writing. How does guilt shape the ways in which you approach political literary spaces?
I think that guilt is useless if you’re not going to do anything with it. I think that it is a very human emotion. I worry about people who never feel guilty. I worry about people who never feel bad about when they cause harm. I think that shows that we care about people and we’re connected. But only to a certain degree. It means nothing if you will not take that feeling, learn from it, investigate it, and do better. One of the problems we have right now is, one, there are people who think, I felt bad, therefore that means I did something. And that’s not true. Or, I felt bad, that means you did something to me. And that is also not true. I think we have to talk about what is of material benefit when we’re talking about rectifying harm. And guilt is of no material benefit.
There’s also an awareness in your writing about moving away from the bleak towards the hopeful when it comes to anti-racist activism. Please share a bit about that?
I think that for me, because I’m a scholar of history as well, and honestly because I try to stay as connected with my community as possible, I think that it does us a disservice and I think it’s actually even disrespectful of our lineage to be hopeless. Because we are descendants of people who fought in far bleaker times than us and survived. And we honour that by caring for each other. We honour that by recognizing the strength that we have. Now, it doesn’t mean that we never feel tired or sad or heartbroken. It doesn’t mean that we should have to do this. But I do think that we have to remember that through times far worse than this, not only were we fighting, we were also loving, having children, you know, building families, building community, doing all of these amazing things. Because part of resistance is insisting on living. It’s not just about not dying. It’s about how you live.
What are you working on? Would you want to also experiment with fiction?
I started January with a year-long education project on collective liberation, on black liberation as collective liberation. That is a project that I’ve been working on each month with a different theme of issues in the United States or around the world and how it connects to black American liberation. And so that is my main project for the year. Yes, I have promised myself I will experiment more with writing before I sign on to writing another non-fiction book. I desperately do want to engage with my love of the craft. I have started writing some short stories that no one will see yet because they’re certainly not great yet. But yeah, I want to be a student of writing for the rest of my life and, you know, be bad at something and learn how to get better. That’s what I love about writing. There’s always a new space you can be in.
Simar Bhasin is an independent journalist.