Why are all the motherhood memoirs so white? | Huma Qureshi

It’s a naturally inclusive experience, yet books on the subject by women of colour are hard to find

I am more than a little obsessed with reading memoirs about motherhood. It is not inexplicable, for I have three young children of my own, aged five and under. In this intense period of parenting, whereby my tired head spins sometimes from simply trying to remember to call the right one by the right name and endlessly loading the washing machine, reading these individual experiences of mothers has helped me feel less alone. Less afraid.

I’ve been spoilt for choice – you can’t help but browse a bookstore without stumbling upon yet another first-person account of motherhood. In the last year especially, motherhood memoirs have become as much of a trend as thrillers with the word “Girl” in the title once were. I’ve certainly noticed, and read, many more memoirs on motherhood since expecting my youngest child, now two, than when my eldest child was born five and a half years ago.

It has taken publishers so long to see there is a place in non-fiction beyond tips on sleep training or weaning

Related: Ruth Davidson departs to focus on family. That decision is only hers to make | Gaby Hinsliff

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