Why Inclusivity in Stories Shouldn’t Be Defined by the Author’s Identity
By Robert Stanek
We’re living through a transformative moment in storytelling. Readers and creators alike increasingly recognize the profound importance of inclusivity, representation, and authenticity. It’s not just about who is telling the story—it’s also about whose stories are told and how those narratives reflect the rich diversity of our world.
Yet in this crucial and necessary push for authentic voices, there’s a difficult question we sometimes overlook:
Should inclusivity and authentic representation be limited by the author’s own identity?
As an author whose stories intentionally include diverse characters—women, people of color, LGBTQ+ individuals, immigrants, working-class heroes—I have wrestled deeply with this question. I believe it deserves a nuanced, empathetic, and honest answer.
Here is mine.
Stories are Bridges, Not Walls
Stories, at their very best, build bridges. They connect us across the divides of identity, culture, experience, and history. They foster empathy by placing us in lives not our own, allowing us to feel experiences beyond our direct understanding.
When I write diverse characters—whether it’s Sarah Silkworm’s immigrant family, Ray’s fight against exploitation, Adrina’s complex journey of identity and empowerment, or the Elven Brotherhood’s approach to gender—I’m building those bridges with profound care. My goal isn’t to replace or overshadow the voices of marginalized authors, but rather to amplify, reflect, and honor experiences that exist in our world authentically and empathetically.
When done with respect and humility, storytelling transcends the storyteller. It becomes a shared human experience.
Empathy: The Core of Authentic Representation
Empathy is the foundational element of authentic storytelling. It means deeply imagining lives different from our own with compassion, humility, and respect. It requires listening, learning, and acknowledging our limits and blind spots.
My characters’ lives aren’t my own—but I’ve lived and known hardship, exclusion, struggle, and loss. I’ve experienced what it feels like to be erased, marginalized, misunderstood. Those experiences, while distinct, help me approach stories outside my direct experience with deep empathy, understanding, and humility.
Empathy doesn’t mean speaking over marginalized communities—it means listening deeply, respecting experiences that aren’t yours, and reflecting truths honestly and authentically. Empathy in storytelling means building bridges, not barriers. It means expanding possibilities for connection and mutual understanding.
Identity Matters, But Stories Can Be More
Who tells stories matters profoundly. We need more diverse authors, authentic voices, and historically marginalized perspectives in publishing. These authors and creators must be heard, supported, and celebrated.
Yet stories can—and must—also transcend identity. The human experience is universal and infinitely diverse. We all love, grieve, dream, suffer, hope, and struggle. Stories that capture these universal truths authentically can resonate deeply with readers across identities.
Inclusive storytelling should not create barriers of identity—it should encourage broader empathy. It should invite us to see ourselves and each other with greater compassion, understanding, and humanity. When we demand inclusivity only within rigid identity boundaries, we risk limiting our own capacity to learn, empathize, and grow together.
Beyond Tokenism: Authenticity in Representation
Representation that matters is representation that’s authentic. It can’t simply be symbolic, superficial, or performative. Authentic representation requires respect, research, empathy, and humility.
When I created characters like Cat Caterpillar’s single mother or Ray, who defends his watery world from exploitation, I approached their stories with the sincere intention to honor real lives, struggles, and triumphs. I drew inspiration from genuine experiences around me, from the people I’ve known and respected deeply.
Authenticity means treating characters as fully human—complex, flawed, beautiful, and resilient. It means never reducing them to stereotypes or shallow tropes. It means respecting their dignity, their lives, and their stories as deeply meaningful reflections of real human experiences.
Why Should Women, People of Color, and LGBTQ+ Readers Trust My Stories?
This is an essential and fair question. The simple yet deeply felt answer is empathy, authenticity, and integrity.
As readers, you deserve stories that honor your lived experiences, reflect your identities respectfully, and provide genuine mirrors and validation. My intention has always been to create these mirrors with deep humility and sincerity, fully aware that my perspective has limits and blind spots.
But I believe deeply that empathy allows stories to authentically transcend identity. I believe stories, crafted thoughtfully and respectfully, can genuinely honor the truths and dignity of diverse readers, even across identity differences. My hope is that my books earn your trust—not simply because of who I am, but because of how they resonate with your truths, your experiences, your hearts.
Expanding the Circle of Inclusivity
The ultimate goal of inclusive storytelling isn’t gatekeeping based on identity—it’s expanding the circle of belonging, empathy, and understanding for everyone.
My books aren’t a substitute for the essential voices of diverse authors, nor should they be. Instead, they’re part of a broader tapestry that seeks to authentically reflect, honor, and celebrate the world as it truly is—in all its complicated, messy, beautiful diversity.
Inclusive storytelling, at its best, should never limit—it should liberate. It should empower readers from all identities to see themselves authentically reflected, empathically understood, and universally celebrated.
💬 Stories Belong to All of Us
Stories aren’t my own. Once shared, they belong to readers—to everyone who picks up a book and finds meaning, validation, courage, or comfort within its pages.
Your stories, experiences, identities, and struggles matter deeply, and they deserve genuine representation, respect, and empathy in storytelling.
These stories, characters, and worlds I’ve created—they belong to you. They always did.