During the pandemic, I’ve Zoom-visited dozens of junior and senior high schools. And one of the most common questions is “Why do you write stereotypes about Native Americans and alcohol?”
I respond in a couple different ways.
The first response:
“I’m an recovering alcoholic. I’ve been sober for thirty years but I’m aware that one drink for me will always be one drink too many—that one beer or shot of tequila could be the beginning of a self-destructive spiral.
“I also need to tell you that my father died of alcoholic kidney failure. My big sister died in a house fire the night after a huge party because she was too drunk to wake up. My favorite cousin and my father’s best friend was shot and killed in a drunken argument over a bottle of alcohol. I’ve had an uncle and an aunt die of alcoholic cirrhosis. Three of my siblings have struggled with alcoholism and addiction.
So alcoholism is not a stereotype in my life. It’s a tragic reality.”
My second response:
“Alcoholism and addiction are human problems. They’re universal problems. I just write about the Native Americans who grapple with the very human problem of alcoholism and addiction.
“Whenever I’m asked this question about stereotypes, I always ask my audiences—and these are always racially, economically, and culturally diverse audiences—I always ask them to raise their hand if they love somebody who is an alcoholic or addict.
“And, without fail, anywhere in the world, at least 70% of the people in the crowd will raise their hand. And let’s get right to the point: at least 70% of the white people in the crowd will raise their hand.
“So, dear audience, I’ll ask you a question that you can ponder when you get home: What’s the difference between a Native American alcoholic and a white alcoholic? I think you can write about the specific reasons why a person becomes an alcoholic and some of those reasons will certainly have to do with race and racism when we’re talking about Native American alcoholics.
“But, in the end, every alcoholic, regardless of race, is deeply and desperately lonesome. And that’s what I write about when I write about alcoholism. I tell the story of lonesomeness.”
I don’t know how well these answers work for young adults. I don’t know how well they work for adults. But these are the answers I have.
I once had a coworker read a short story I’d written about addiction (I recently celebrated five years sober). I hadn't known him long but knew he was a literary man because we often discussed books and writing. The first thing he said to me when he returned the manuscript was the characters and events seemed stereotypes. I didn't disagree.
However, stereotypes are usually born from repetitive behaviors linked to a specific group of people. We’re supposed to avoid stereotypes because they’re often prejudiced, no matter how true they might be. In writing, stereotypes are deemed cliches, which makes portraying difficult subjects challenging because cliches are ubiquitously taboo, sometimes making a story predictive.
Though my coworker thought the story was too fabricated and somewhat derivative, the events in it, fictionalized partially, had happened. This is why real life doesn't always make good fiction. Many ideas and images and whatnot within our collective reality are stereotypes.
I just love you - your rawness, vulnerability, honesty, humor, intelligence. I've been a fan for decades, reading your poetry and prose and introducing you to my high school students. I have two adult children who are addicts - lots of heartbreak. Again, love you.