Dear School Library Journal,
I am the author and illustrator of a new book called Luminous: Living Things that Light up the Dark. Luminous is inspired by firsthand experiences I’ve had with family and friends as we encountered the magic of bioluminescence. As with my previous book Let’s Do Everything and Nothing, there is no explicit text identifying the characters as Taiwanese American, but I deliberately drew characters who look like me. I depicted a mother and child with warm skin and dark hair kayaking in bioluminescent waters and discovering foxfire on a forest floor, all from my own lived experiences.
Trade reviewers such as Kirkus, Publisher’s Weekly, and Horn Book described my characters’ skin color as “tan” and even “brown” after reviewing a digital proof, often coupled with “dark-haired”. These descriptions were part of a recent trend in book reviews that gives a nod to intended ethnicity. So when the Luminous publishing team and I read the opening line of the School Library Journal’s review “A child and an adult, both with pale skin, explore luminous creatures in the dark,” we thought there must be a mistake. We had ensured their skin would read as a medium tone even against the black backgrounds. This incomplete and inaccurate description was more consequential than just a misread of pigment; it would strip the characters of their coding as people of color.
As a Taiwanese American, I experience two contrasting forms of discrimination. One day, I could be a perpetual foreigner, asked where I’m from, or told I don’t belong. On another day, I could be called “white adjacent” to minimize my experiences of direct or structural racism. There’s a rich and troubled history (see: model minority) behind downplaying our identity as people of color; it diminishes our unique struggles and pits us against other marginalized communities. Calling people of color pale-skinned without distinguishing them from white people of European descent falls solidly into this latter camp.
Over the next few months, the publishing team gave SLJ the benefit of the doubt. All communication occurred within SLJ processes, between our publishing team and SLJ’s reviews editor. We were given this response:
“While the author does identify as American Taiwanese in the author bio, there was nothing in text or illustrations that made me read those characters as being of any specific ethnic or cultural background. Part of the beauty of the book is that the human characters could be from any number of backgrounds or races. I understand that “fair” and “pale” do not accurately depict the characters and I would be fine with adding “black hair and dark eyes” to the review, I probably should have done from the start.”
The reviewer interpreted the characters to be devoid of ethnicity (see: colorblindness), described them as pale, and then lauded the book as a means by which anyone could project themselves. The troubling insinuation here is that pale skin, rather than any other shade, is a default canvas with which to project oneself. This is even more problematic than the original review.
The review was never changed, despite multiple attempts by our team to further engage in conversation with SLJ. The digital proof had minor color inconsistencies, so the team offered to send over the physical book. SLJ declined to view the physical book, dug into their stance supporting the original review, and recently closed the conversation. We were alarmed by the refusal to view the book in its final form, as it seems unusual for a trade review outlet to refuse this extra step of due diligence.
These reviews impact the reception of my books and the longevity of my career, so I’ve put in the time and energy to carefully navigate this issue. I wish I could take back that time, that these hours could have instead been spent working on upcoming books. School Library Journal, your review may have been careless and uninformed, but your following response was harmful and willfully ignorant.
Signed,
Julia Kuo
