“I knew this would be a huge risk to take for the first big thing I ever did,” Williams tells WIRED. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get another chance to write for a publisher like DC, so she decided to do her best and “make the biggest impression,” she says. Fortunately, the response has been positive and Williams is grateful for the opportunity to build and expand a wonderful mythos. Creating a character like Bia “was just something that felt natural and innate,” she says.
Similarly, comics writer Tee Franklin didn’t know how many people wanted to see more Black LGBTQ+ representation in comics when she started taking notes for her comic in her car, bingo love. She watched it get fully funded on Kickstarter in just a few days.
bingo love, first released in 2018, is the story of two black women who found each other and fell in love as young people, but were forced to separate due to disapproving relatives. They reunite as older adults and consider starting a new life together.
“I just never really thought people would want to read about two black queer grannies,” says Franklin. “That’s so awesome.”
Why representation matters
Intersectional representation is not just about making characters look and sound more diverse or fulfilling a quota. Representation is how prejudices are delegitimized.
“I always say, ‘Representation is important, and representation equals normalization,'” says Simeon.
And that normalization is vital in the US, where hundreds of anti-LGBTQ laws are being proposed across the country, as well as laws thatcritical race theorycurriculum – essentially anything that recognizes the dehumanization and discrimination of black people.
Vitriol makers like Franklin also receive emphasis on how toxic fandoms can be. She has even received death threats for her work, including the Harley Quinn: Eat. Pop! Kill. Tourwhich brings Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy together in a romantic relationship that should surprise no one who has ever followed the characters’ history.
“I’m an easy target not just because I’m black and queer,” Franklin explains. “But I am also disabled and autistic. I’m an easy punching bag.”
Franklin shares how parents would protect their children’s eyes at conventions if they walked by her “very strange” author’s table. Other times she saw a child pick up a copy of one of her comics and start reading it. They could not buy the book because they had no money. Even if Franklin offered the book for free, the child would say his parents wouldn’t give him a copy.
“Let people read what they want to read,” says Franklin. “Why are you making these choices for these kids? It doesn’t harm them.” She noted that no one stopped her when she was eight years old and was reading Stephen King’s It.
About finding Black Queer Joy
Despite ongoing efforts to erase black queer, both black and queer creators, readers, and fans find joy in their favorite immersive fictional fandoms.
Simeon, who describes himself as “just a guy who likes other guys who like comics,” likes to dive deep into fantasy by escaping into television, comics, and video games.
Williams said she’s grateful to be “in this space taking up space” and excited that there are more black queer creators behind the scenes, even if the stories or characters “don’t exactly look like us.”
Franklin said she won’t stop creating content for queer, black and disabled people, and that she’s happy to see kids creating more content that reflects their own experiences and perspectives. She also said she is lifting librarians in prayer as they are in a difficult position given the recent situation attacks on public libraries And efforts across the country to ban books.
“There are other people just like me who will fight and won’t stop fighting,” Franklin said. “That is so encouraging. That gives me hope.”