Owning the Narrative

As we discuss our praxis sites and Frederick Douglass' Narrative, the question of ownership kept coming up. Who owns the written word? Often it feels like the mere writing of down of a narrative and calling it such, means owning those people you represent and the narratives they bring with them. In our work, especially, that is tricky because, unlike Frederick Douglass, we are not the lions in the story, we are not the ones who have been silenced and misrepresented; the lions are the people we are representing. Because of this, we must be vigilent in how we represent them and their stories, and try our hardest not to perpetuate the dominant narratives concerning them [even if that is impossible]. Right then, I purposefully used a reference that Wendell Phillips, Esq. made at the start of Frederick Douglass' piece. He, in a similar position to us, has the distinct pleasure of serving as a gatekeeper to the narrative of Douglass, judging his worth to the public via his representation of him. And, while parts of his and William Lloyd Garrison's bombast felt jarring, it also felt very familiar. On a seemingly unrelated note, some in the class felt uncomfortable with writing over Douglass' text. I wonder if this is because of not only their need to respect the personal story, but also their positionality to slavery, institutionalized racism, Garrison, and Phillips. Does this novel already have two too many white commentators, gatekeepers, and owners? Is our reflective writing another version of this specific type of ownership?