Recently I have come under fire for portraying black women in my Women Warrior (aka Women Gone Rogue) one-woman performances. At one of the San Diego County libraries, I was invited to perform three specifically named characters out of my repertoire: Harriet Beecher Stowe, Harriet Tubman, and Mary McLeod Bethune.  Just two weeks before the engagement, Ms. Rebecca Lynn at the library’s central offices decided that I should not portray Tubman and Bethune because I was white, that it was totally inappropriate for me to do so, and directed me to make substitutions. I tried to put her at ease with what I thought were persuasive arguments, but the decision was final. In a request for her to reconsider, I asked how this situation was different from black actors performing as our nation’s founders in the play Hamilton.  Hamilton was “historically different,” she said. Further, when I asked for an explanation, this is what I got: “I can’t explain it. And I’m a little baffled that you don’t understand.” In response, I said: “So am I only to honor women of courage, honor and bravery if they’re white?” Ms. Lynn said: “that’s pretty much it.” Because I would not acquiesce to the request, the invitation was rescinded.

I was quite taken aback, mystified actually. In the five years of performing these characters, there has never been a hint of offense, even from anonymous surveys. And why should there be? How could we ever explore our common humanity with these kind of restrictions? Children are not born racist, they are carefully taught. Does the library really want to foster this? Apparently so because I was told I could only portray white women warriors. I remain resolute in my belief that stories should be shared without limitations, without regard for color of the artist.

This is a good segue into conversation about how I chose the characters I write about and portray. Although the seventeen historical figures in my book, Eternity Through the Rearview Mirror, span several hundred years and are an eclectic mix, they share many common denominators. Presented in first person from a heavenly vantage point, and using as many of their own words as possible, they publicly and enthusiastically credited God for their accomplishments.

From Galileo to Johnny Cash, these once ordinary people became extraordinary through their resilience in facing life’s challenges, moving through them, and coming out better on the other side. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said: “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” Expect to encounter such challenges and controversies in the characters I portray, always with an overarching theme of prioritizing the good will of God and others.

I did not choose them for their station in life, their gender, their ethnicity. As Dr. King also said, I chose them for the content of their character.

And they must have history that can be verified. In my research I soon found many alternatives to truth on the internet and instead used source documents and interviewed experts who provided feedback on my stories. And I wanted you, the reader and the listener, to be confident that what you see and hear is the truth. For example, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s motivation to write about the evil and immorality of slavery in Uncle Tom’s Cabin came from a vision and not, as often mythologized, through the witnessing of a slave auction. Corrie Ten Boom’s unbelievable, electrifying encounter with a former Ravensbrück guard really happened in just the way I tell it. Although you’ll find Sojourner Truth often quoted as saying “Ain’t I a Woman,” (and displayed on museum store T-shirts, refrigerator magnets, mugs, bags and hats) she never said that. You’ll read/see what she really said, and so on. Small details, yes, but they speak to the depth of my efforts to find the truth. Truth which many times is stranger than what any creative mind could fathom, I also wanted you to be able to look up these resources for yourself, so I catalogued them in the book in more than 600 endnotes.

To the matter at hand, and in trying to understand this issue better, I discovered conversations on the internet that criticized the movie making industry for its lack of diversity; especially for Hollywood’s history of casting white actors in non-white roles. Arguments abounded pro and con, i.e., whitewashing, taking jobs from talented black actors, best person for the job, etc., but should anyone apply any of those elements here would be an apples to oranges comparison. Here there are no casting decisions, no diversity issues. It is just me telling stories, honoring women of valor, courage, and faith.

Perhaps it is time for a wider conversation about the importance of inclusivity and the power of storytelling as a means to bridge gaps and foster understanding. Rudyard Kipling said: “If all history were told in stories, it would never be forgotten.” Perhaps it’s the stories that can teach us something. Perhaps it’s the stories that can teach us truth.

Winston Churchill said: “The farther back you look, the further ahead you can see.”  On a more personal level, if you, like the people I write about, have mountains to climb, seemingly insurmountable obstacles to overcome, or a future faced with uncertainty, then I invite you to read or listen to the first person accounts in Eternity Through the Rearview Mirror. They ultimately are sagas of people helping, loving, forgiving, encouraging one another. Perhaps these people can teach us how to live a life unimagined.