I’ve finally started redrafting a play I wrote 2 years ago. It’s a big deal- I never thought I’d be able to look at it again. For a while, I never thought I’d be able to write again. Regaining trust in my instincts & my work literally took years because of feedback I received

It’s so important to be careful when giving feedback on writing. It has everything to do with identity and experience- it can never NOT be taken personally. I’m currently staring at a play I was told would “alienate British audiences” because it was set in India. (2)

My characters’ names (all South Asian womxn) were often misspelled, I was told that themes in the play were difficult to believe and far-fetched, even though they had been my experience. (3)

The only “good” feedback I got was from wh*te readers telling me that it was “empowering” to see Indian womxn smoke & drink & swear on stage. Be real people, rather than caricatures. I was a real Indian woman the whole time and I didn’t feel taken care of. (4)

I literally had to take time away from, not only the play, but also from writing, because I felt that I couldn’t write what I know. I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t trust my lived experience, and I didn’t trust my interrogation of it because it was wrongly contextualised. (5)

I think about this tweet from @JillianDavid13 a lot- and have on occasion used it to explain the importance of meaningful representation (thanks Jillian!). So much hurt, so much lost confidence can be avoided by just having more diversity at the table. (6)

The feedback I received did 2 unhelpful things.
1. It made me feel like I was being told to go back to my own country or conform to this one.
2. It gave me absolutely no useful feedback & no way to go forward. It took me 2 years to form my own opinions about it. (7)

So here it is- if you’re told that your identity & how you choose to represent it in your work makes a white British theatre audience uncomfortable, know that they‘re not who we’re writing for. We’re writing for everyone else- the majority- & there’s no fucking shame in that. (8)