Abby Hutter: "Dear Caroline Yoachim: Let's Give a Voice to the Silenced"

Dear Caroline Yoachim: Let’s Give a Voice to the Silenced

By Abby Hutter

            The greatest weapon for writers, political leaders, journalists, and other influential voices is the power to control the narrative. Too often this power is exploited by those who use it to cover up their wrongs. This manipulation is practiced by sexual abusers who have enough power to control the narrative of victims’ stories to the point where women get shamed by the public if they speak the truth. When women break their silence, they face critics questioning their clothing, their relationship with the predator, why they didn’t fight back, etc. Therefore, victims who speak out against their predators cannot just tell the truth; they feel the need to justify their actions so they do not get victim-shamed. The #MeToo movement started conversations about the obstacles that women face every day and the issues of sexual abuse in the world, but the problem cannot be fixed until every story is told and the truth no longer is difficult for victims to tell. To reach this goal, writers should tell more stories from the perspective of those whose voices are often silenced and give them shamelessly revengeful narratives.

In my speculative fiction class, we discussed the story “Selkie Stories are for Losers” by Sofia Samatar. In the story, the main character’s mom leaves the house one day without any warning and never comes back. The reader never learns what the mom’s story is, but the dad explains, “Mom was an elemental, a sort of stranger, not of our kind. It wasn’t my fault she left, it was because she couldn’t learn to breathe on land.” My class took this quote apart and analyzed how his explanation is a tool for somebody coping with loss- to remind themselves that it’s not their fault. Although it’s a coping mechanism, it is not acceptable for the father to push all the blame onto her and say, “It was because she couldn’t breathe on land.” A conscious reader can recognize that the dad has full control of the narrative now that the mom left, and he has the power to tell the truth however he wants. This reminds us that in real-world settings, guilt can be wrongfully dumped by those with greater power onto those who are voiceless. The issue translates to victims of sexual abuse who have their stories covered up by their more powerful predators. Before the #MeToo movement gave previously silenced women the platform to have their stories believed, if victims told the truth, their predator had enough power to say, “It wasn’t my fault”, and keep the victims ashamed and silenced. Sofia Samatar deliberately did not let the mother tell her own story to make the reader conscious that the dad exploits the narrative. Using a similar writing technique, speculative fiction stories that are a commentary on sexual abuse should remind readers that abusers will create their own, false stories to put their victim to shame and that we, as readers, should seek the truth from the victims’ points of view.

Taking control of the narrative is hard, and sometimes the only way for victims to get the attention they deserve is to be extreme, and writers should use high fantasy to do this. The perfect example of badass storytelling from a victim is “Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies” by Brooke Bolander. The narrator takes the story-telling power that predators always snatch and turns herself into the villain. “This is my story, not his. It belongs to me and is mine alone.”  She kills her attacker, or more precisely, “his matter is speaking across a large swathe of space and time”, and now she gets to tell her own story. Sounds extreme, but stories like this remind us that if you’re a victim, you have to unapologetically speak your truth if you want people to listen. Throw galaxy-crushing talons, wing stubs, f-bombs, and murder in your story if need be, and never apologize. The narrator proclaims, “My sisters and I will sing [my story]—all at once, all together, a sound like a righteous scream from all the forgotten, talked–over throats in Eternity’s halls.” To have your voice heard, you must fantasize it, scream it out, and let the world know your mad. Write fantasy stories like these and apply the defiance of the strong characters to find the strength to tell your own story. After all, your story belongs to you, and no one should take that away from you.