Drawing on their own experience as a Baldwin-Emerson Fellow and award-winning novelist, Caro De Robertis was perfectly suited to compile this first-of-its-kind oral history. not only celebrates accomplishments and experiences of an entire generation of queer folks of color, but also captures the power and beauty of listening.
Though this is your first solo work of nonfiction, it’s also a community project, weaving over a dozen interviewee’s words and experiences into a cohesive oral history. Was there a lot that you learned or discovered over the course of these interviews that really surprised you?
During my interviews with these queer and trans elders of color, I was constantly amazed and blown away. I knew the elders of our communities had stories to tell, and had not only witnessed history but taken part in shaping it—but even so, I was not prepared for the depth and beauty of their stories. There is a shimmering intimacy to oral history; it’s less rushed, and more layered, than other modes of interview. As a result, the anecdotes and insights you gather not only surprise you, the listener, but can startle the speaker themself. The discoveries and lessons were so copious that I felt I had no choice but to write this book.
Aside from its scope and community input from trans, nonbinary, genderqueer, and two-spirit people of color, how did your approach and research differ from some of your previous work and novels?
I’m incredibly lucky that, as a Baldwin-Emerson Fellow, I received state-of-the-art training on the art of gathering oral history. This prepared me to approach the interviews that comprise this book with significant tools at the ready.
Nevertheless, as I entered the kitchens, living rooms, and offices of these elders and bore witness to their stories, I was surprised to discover the extent to which I was also drawing on skills I’d been practicing for 20 years, as a novelist. My novels are deeply researched, in both bookish and oral ways; for example, for , I spent 15 years intermittently listening to queer Uruguayan women describe their lives during that country’s dictatorship. With them, I did so informally, around a fire or table, without recording devices. What that process had in common with the work of creating So Many Stars was the dedication to listening, to bearing witness, and to seeing the endless value in personal stories.
It’s been a difficult time for queer folks, and especially queer people of color. Was there a particular event or moment in time where you realized you needed to share these stories and experiences?
Indeed, these are brutal times for so many marginalized communities, including queer and trans people of color. Launching this book in the spring of 2025, I feel the book’s urgency in a keen way, as an antidote to all the hatred and attacks coming from so many directions. That said, the original urgency to write this book wasn’t because of the hate; it was because of the love, the vision, and the extraordinary beauty and power that these narrators had to share with the world.
