Game of Thrones Artist John Picacio Brings Mexican Representation to WorldCon 76 Through Scholarship Fund
The Mexicanx Initiative was a scholarship fund started by artist John Picacio to bring more Mexicanx representation in science fiction and fantasy to Worldcon 76. The scholarship was awarded to 50 people of Mexican ancestry and, let me tell you, those 50 people made a HUGE impact. The Mexicanx Initiative made Worldcon 76 a powerful experience for me because I got to see myself represented on those panels, in those stories, in the language, the idioms, the anger at the injustices of deportation, criminalization, forced separation and herding of children from their parents, and so much more.
Welcome to my "Worldcon 76" series, where I'll be breaking down my time at the world's longest-running science fiction and fantasy convention.
The Mexicanx Initiative was a scholarship fund started by artist John Picacio to bring more Mexicanx representation in science fiction and fantasy to Worldcon 76. The scholarship was awarded to 50 people of Mexican ancestry and, let me tell you, those 50 people made a HUGE impact.
When I first realized this was a thing, I got both ridiculously excited and worried that the experience would be watered down. Considering who started this initiative, I should have known better than to think watering down would be allowed!
The Mexicanx Initiative made Worldcon 76 a powerful experience for me because I got to see myself represented on those panels, in those stories, in the language, the idioms, the anger at the injustices of deportation, criminalization, forced separation and herding of children from their parents, and so much more. An entire reading and some panels were done solely in Spanish - 100% en español. This might not seem like a big deal, but it is. Just look up the #ownvoices and #weneedmorediversebooks hashtags. I hope this kind of inclusion of other languages and cultures is the beginning of what future Worldcons and other conventions in the genre can be and, frankly, should have been a long time ago.
The American narrative is not everyone's experience.
When Rose Lemberg (yes, I know they are not Mexican, but they are badass) said this, I had to literally restrain myself from jumping out of my seat and cheering "Thank you!!!" This is not an exaggeration. Having been raised by an immigrant mother meant that my experiences growing up did not follow the "American Narrative," and many customs I grew up with are different from those experienced by most people brought up as "American." On New Year's, to name just one example of something that most kids in America don't grow up doing, we would toss a pot of water out the front door at midnight and say "Que salga lo viejo y entra lo nuevo," or "Out with old, in with the new." I have a lot to say about the American Narrative, but that's for another post. Thankfully, FLAMA exists to share my frustration via hilariously on-point sketches.
Often, not being part of the American Narrative has made it difficult for me to connect with people. Now let me be clear: this is not my mother's fault for not "Americanizing" me enough; it is the fault of a society that idealizes and demands that everyone follow a single narrative.
The term "magical realism" is othering
The use of the term "magical realism" has always bothered me, though I could never eloquently pinpoint exactly why. The Mexicanx Initiative panels helped clear this up for me - it's because the term is othering. Let me explain what I mean.
First, from a personal perspective, it is trivializing to declare that elements of my culture are "magic." The customs that I grew up with - whether Día de los Muertos, or warnings about brujería, or carrying an ojo de venado for protection - are part of who I am. Yes, intellectually, I know that these things are based in supernatural beliefs, but slapping the term "magic" on them dismisses them as silly stories, superstitions, a mere ethnic trope.
Second: "You're Mexican, so you must write magical realism, right?" This was an actual question that a reader perusing my artist's alley booth asked me at a convention last year. Yes, I know some argue that magical realism actually has more literary worth than so-called "genre" fantasy, but for me, a female Latinx author who wants to write fantasy novels and be accepted by that community, it hurts to be told what I have to write. And anyway, if so many of the conventions of "traditional" fantasy are themselves derived from European myths and folk tales (just look at Tolkien), why do stories with supernatural elements derived from Mexicanx culture get consigned to magical realism?
Borders divide families and are bullshit. However, borders do exist that keep people safe.
And no I'm not referring to the border dividing Mexico and the United States. That border is bullshit and ICE and CBP can go fuck themselves. I'm referring to the borders within the United States keeping the government from taking away more of what belongs to indigenous peoples. This very important distinction was made by a POC audience member. In my opinion, I don't think this discussion would have had a home at Worldcon had the panel that gave it a platform not come to pass. That panel was "Transgressing Borders."
Secondary worlds are a valid way of exploring one's culture
Hearing this from someone who is not from your culture is not the same as hearing it from someone who is. The latter holds power. As someone who incorporates my culture into the secondary world of the Ellderet, this meant a lot to me.
It's arrogant to assume that the base language spoken in SF/F stories is English just because the books are written in English.
Bravo! Enough said.
An inkling of other things I learned: that the distinction between "hard" and "soft" science fiction isn't a thing in Mexico; that Mexico's sf/f world is alive with a large number of novel ideas because many authors don't feel the need to limit themselves to what's popular; that YA is just beginning to really take off in Mexico; that some editors are negative on using character names sourced from languages that English-speaking audiences might find difficult to pronounce; and that I am not alone in my bilingual language experiences. I already knew this last one, but seeing it reflected on a panel at a convention dedicated to a genre I love - a genre that lacked representation when I was growing up - meant the world to me.
Panel after panel, as I sat in the crowd listening to the speakers, I couldn't help but look around at the other people and then back at the stage and think, "That's me."
"Ahí estoy yo."
Desde lo más profundo de mi corazón, gracias a todos que hicieron posible The Mexicanx Initiative.
Moderating Your First Fantasy or Horror Panel? Here Are Some Tips I Learned as a First Time Moderator at WorldCon 76
Nerve-wracking. Empowering. These are the words I would use to describe my experience moderating my first Worldcon panel, What Turns People Onto Horror. So, why these words? Let's start with the "nerve-wracking" bit, which mostly stems from social anxiety and imposter syndrome. I was a speaker on just such a panel, Imposter Syndrome: You DO Deserve To Be Here (which I'll write about in a forthcoming post). Knowing that my insecurities were not going to vanish just because I wanted them to, I set out to make sure I didn't let them get the better of me.
Welcome to my "Worldcon 76" series, where I'll be breaking down my time at the world's longest-running science fiction and fantasy convention.
Nerve-wracking. Empowering.
These are the words I would use to describe my experience moderating my first Worldcon panel, What Turns People Onto Horror. So, why these words? Let's start with the "nerve-wracking" bit, which mostly stems from social anxiety and imposter syndrome. I was a speaker on just such a panel, Imposter Syndrome: You DO Deserve To Be Here (which I'll write about in a forthcoming post). Knowing that my insecurities were not going to vanish just because I wanted them to, I set out to make sure I didn't let them get the better of me. Being the moderator meant that I was in charge of the panel and its success or failure was partly on me. Or so I felt that way. After all, a panel = moderator + speakers.
The following approach worked for me as it removed as many variables as possible from the equation. I also took into account my experiences as a speaker and adapted them to make sure I was as prepared as possible.
From Google images
Have passion for the topic you're moderating or speaking about. This was a key component in finding my strength. Whenever I started to doubt myself, my love of dark literature, cinema, and arts reminded me that I had every right to be there and reach out (or "bother" as my brain tends to reason) to the speakers.
Look up the panelists and hunt down their emails. This step turned out to be very important, as one of the speakers had no idea they were even on the panel!
Decide if you want to introduce the speakers or have them introduce themselves. If the former, make sure to request a brief bio (with a word count limit!) by a set deadline. Ideally, I wanted the information ahead of time so I could put it all in one document, thereby removing a potential unknown. But if no one had gotten back to me, I would have let the speakers introduce themselves. The point was to have a plan and remove variables from the equation.
Email the speakers. Introduce yourself and send them the panel, date, time, and room number, and try to get the discussion going by including questions.
Always ask for pronouns. Always.
Don't assume all the speakers on the panel are familiar with the subject matter of the panel. Panel assignment is not always perfect, and sometimes panelists have no familiarity at all with the subject of their panel! In my experience, some speakers will be straightforward about whether they are knowledgable enough to contribute constructively, but others will drop the bomb only on the day of the panel. Whether that bomb is constructive or destructive only Fortune knows.
Don't get offended if no one responds back to the email. Life happens. That being said, a ping never hurts, especially if you are waiting for information, like a biography or graphics. This is where that deadline comes in handy.
If anxiety tends to memory wipe your short-term brain (sigh), write down everything you want to say, or make an outline. For me this means clearly writing down how I want to structure the panel and planning the questions ahead of time, from the intro all the way to "closing statement: remember to mention X, Y, Z." This is not a crutch, this is me taking anxiety por los cuernos (by the horns).
Practice the questions out loud to get a real feeling for them, and don't be afraid to practice with a friend. And perhaps with some whiskey because, why not.
If you don't know how to pronounce a speaker's name or series, ask. And unless you have an amazing memory, write out their names phonetically for reference. I wish I had done this, but I had hoped that my anxiety would not win since I had asked right before the panel started. Alas, anxiety-induced sieve-brain kicked in. The mispronunciation made for some fun dialogue, but I wish I had gotten all the names right, especially because I get tired of having my own name or series mispronounced.
As a speaker, I really appreciate it when moderators send out an email the day before the panel asking speakers to meet up in person before the panel if they are able. On panels, you can always expect to see the following--no response, rescheduling requests, cancellations, miscommunications, shadows trying to sink into the pores on your skin, Risen chewing at your ankles. Don't take it personally if no one responds or use it as a measure of your worth as a moderator. Life happens. The important thing is to give the speakers the opportunity to meet up in advance if they wish to do so.
Even if you've already "met" via email, don't forget to introduce yourself as the moderator to everyone.
Test your mic and make sure to speak into it. Ahem, yeah that is something I definitely need to keep in mind.
Don't be afraid to lay down ground rules for the panelists. I did this as a way to preempt any one speaker from dominating the panel. The speakers seemed on board with my "rule" and even used it a few times during the discussion. Did it help? Who knows! But I'm glad I put such a rule in place.
Be careful with two-part questions. My opening question was a two-parter which, as you can see in the video, worked best as two separate questions. To be honest, by the time everyone had responded to the first part of the two-part question, I had to play back the panel in my head and ask myself if the second part had already been answered. I'm sure the audience felt the same way.
Allow time for audience comments.
Thank the audience for attending.
Thank the speakers for their time.
Breathe!
And now comes the next part: "Empowering." As I said "thank you" to everyone and packed up my tattered black journal, I felt the nervous energy brewing in me morph into relief. I had successfully moderated my first panel without too many hiccups. Did this experience erase my insecurities? Hahaha, no. But it did show me that by taking steps to manage the triggers that amplify my anxiety and imposter syndrome, I could tame them and come out on top. Every step I took in preparing for this panel was a rung I added to my #buildaladder, including submitting the panel and agreeing to be the moderator. All in all, this seed of strength was a marvelous beginning to Worldcon 76 and one I found myself drawing from as the convention rolled on . . .