Comics has always been an Old Boys Club and those boys have always used it as a way to live out their fantasies, both aspirational and otherwise. Which is not to say that every man who worked in comics is a bad man. It is to say that the actions of some – and the inaction of others – created an environment in which harassment and sexual assault were, if not acceptable, then at least swept under the proverbial rug.
There are more female creators in the industry these days, but the old culture remains – especially at the larger publishing houses, though smaller publishers are far from exempt. Even those who are ousted from their positions because brave women come forward and tell their stories are often welcomed back a year or two later without any proof of change or remorse.
I’ve been writing about comics for almost ten years now and it isn’t an easy field for a woman to be in. No matter how well researched a piece of mine is, no matter how well-written, some dude always comes up in my comments telling me I’m wrong or stupid or that I don’t know what I’m talking about. I hate it, but I can handle it; it’s why I never read the comments. And, in a way, I’m lucky because while plenty of jerks have spouted off at me, none of them has ever threatened me physically, which happens to female comics writers and creators all the time in this year of our Lady Hecate 2020.
The point is: we work hard and we treasure our contacts when we finally make them. I was ecstatic when someone from Vertigo (an imprint of DC Comics that has since shut down) reached out to ask me (me! specifically!) to come to the Vertigo panel at Emerald City Comic Con, after which I had an opportunity to interview executive editor Mark Doyle. They saved me a literal seat at an actual table for a press-only event at San Diego Comic Con two years ago.
It. was. so. cool.
I continued to do a lot of work with this rep (who is no longer at DC, thank goodness; they were always too good for that place) and I was thrilled when they sent me advanced copies of books and set me up with interviews. One of my favorites was a book called Border Town, a tale of mysterious happenings in an American-Mexican border town and I told everyone about it.
Then, a very brave woman named Cynthia Naugle (who has spoken of these eventually publicly and identified herself so using her name is not endangering her in any way that I’m aware of) told the world that the author of Border Town, Eric M. Esquivel, had harassed, assaulted, and raped her. Once she spoke out, several other women made similar accusations – some of them as young as sixteen. And not that they need them for me to believe but yes, there are receipts.
I waited and waited for Vertigo to make a statement. It took far, far too long and when it did come, it was an announcement that Border Town issues 5 and 6 were being pulled and the comic would be ending. No condemnation of Esquivel or his actions. No assurances he would no longer be allowed in the house that Superman built. I reached out for something more but was rebuffed with promises of a phone interview with a member of the PR team that never happened.
So I did what any decent human being in my position would do. I stood with my sisters and broke up with Vertigo, thus breaking the cardinal rule of comics journalism: I burned a bridge. I broke up with Vertigo Comics in a piece for Book Riot. Because, to paraphrase the words of Abraham Erskine, the doctor who created Captain America, the world doesn’t need perfect soldiers. It needs good people.
Imagine my surprise, and the surprise of many, many others when we discovered last week that Esquivel and Eddie Berganza, another notorious predator who was allowed to operate at DC until he was finally fired in 2017 are attempting to found a new comics company called Alternative Empires together. Their mission is to “… match(es) established professionals with up-and-coming-talent…”
They are the professionals. The up-and-coming talent they claim to want to help are the exact demographic of their prey of choice: young women looking to break in to an industry that’s still a boys club, one that tells them to behave and pay their dues. Dues that often involve allowing men authority not only over their work but over their bodies.
Both Berganza and Esquivel used the announcement to claim they’ve grown and changed so much over the course of the last few years. Esquivel also claims the “Latinx Creative Community” caught him when he “fell from grace.”
Eric Esquivel did not “fall from grace.” Eddie Berganza has not “taken a hard look at himself.” Women came forward and kicked them off their pedestals because those men in power chose to harass and to assault and to rape. They chose to frame their responses to the accusations, and indeed, in the Alternative Empire’s announcement, as though they were victims of some cosmic force out to get them.
And from what I’ve seen on social media, the Latinx Creative Community has already called Esquivel out as a liar on that “catching him” thing, too.
Let’s be clear: neither Esquivel nor Berganza is a victim. And neither of them has apologized. They’re not sorry they’ve harmed people irreparably.
They’re sorry they got caught.
Alternative Empires sets up a situation in which two known predators have control over the work and futures of people – of women – who have struggled and fought for years to be accepted in an industry that continues to suffer from institutionalized misogyny, hyper-sexualization, and fanboy rage. On paper, they appear to be giving emerging artists an opportunity; I am 99.99999% sure that the outcome is going to be something darker and crueler, that yet more careers and lives are going to end up shattered on the rocks of male privilege.
Normally I wouldn’t waste my platform giving abusers any kind of airtime. I think it’s important, however, for people to know what they’re getting in to. As tempting as it may seem to submit to Alternative Empires, whatever they may offer you, it’s not worth your safety, your security, your career, or your life. Esquivel and Berganza don’t deserve your hard work. They don’t deserve your loyalty. They don’t merit a single second of your consideration.
But this, ladies, is important and if we protect one another, watch one another’s backs, believe survivors, we can burn this thing down and salt the land before it ever gets started.
Esquivel and Berganza aren’t starting this company with their own funds. They’re running a Kickstarter. That is why I’m out here yelling. That is why I’m gathering the coven.
Yes, there have always been solitary witches, but most of us prefer a coven. As women, and as witches, we know from long experience that while each and every one of us is powerful in her own right, we’re even more powerful when we work together and each in her own way. I don’t mind screaming into the void. I don’t mind being a target; I can take some hits. One of my sisters may not be able, or may not wish to partake in that role but she can tell her partner who can tell a friend who likes comics why they shouldn’t back the Alternative Empires project. Or maybe you want to come forward with your own story but don’t want to do it alone. We will all go with you.
We are all here for you.
Because that’s what covens do.