#checking privilege

[adurathelittle]

So I’m sitting here, on tumblr, scrolling with intent, reading each post that comes up on my dash with careful consideration. I’m here because I want to see what’s going on in the world, and I don’t want the news from main stream media; I want to know what it’s like from the perspectives of the people who are living it.

In the last 25 minutes, I’ve read about children in America, locked in cages, intentionally separated from their parents. I’ve perused Feminist perspectives on Trump Policy. I internally applauded the continuance of Nigerian Pride, becoming an annual event in the face of the death penalty. My heart broke over the consequences of standing firm against religious indoctrination. I read about new policies and legislation around the world, cutting funding for services, and ultimately access to those services. I saw like minded people outline and discuss current world events, clearly drawing the parallels between the dark history of modern western civilization and present day circumstances. I read about the nightmares of our children, who worry that if they go to school today, it may be their last day on this earth. Poverty, racial inequality, gender based violence, heteronormativity, sexism, ageism... hell. I’ve read about all forms of the “isms” in the last 25 minutes, and the use of mental, emotional, financial and physical violence to perpetuate the oppressive tactics designed to keep the division between Us and Them strong.

In the last 25 minutes, I have had to sit back and check my mother fucking privilege.

I am a black woman. I come from a particular sect of total indoctrination. I’m queer, I’m single, I’m a mother, I’m a survivor of so many forms of violence I wouldn’t even know where to start breaking them apart. I have fought to get where I am in the face of far too many barriers- wanting to quit so many times along the way.

I’m a walking statistic, and yet here I am- educated, successful, even thriving. I am about to start a new position that is everything I have worked my ass off to get- a safety net for my future, and the future of my child. Challenge. To work on building something from the ground up. To advocate for social justice and empower our most vulnerable populations to find their voices, share their truth and call out for real change on the issues that affect them. I am blessed and I am privileged.

After the last 25 minutes? I no longer understand the point I was trying to make.

[terpsichoreed]

Honestly, I really don't mind when people bow their heads and say a prayer and I am present. Yes, it's awkward because I still haven't figured out what to do exactly, but they thought to include this heathen before praying. They didn't ask me to leave. They were nice to me. What they said was meaningful. I may not believe in the same higher power (if any at all) but I think it's a good idea to acknowledge thanks. In a roundabout way, I use someone else's prayer time to check my privilege and be thankful for where I am.

[rabidlitmajor]

To Clarify:

When I’m calling out white people for Fucking Things Up (tm) I am not excluding myself. 

I have outgrown troublesome/privileged/racist behaviors from my past.

I will continue to rid myself of current troublesome/privileged racist habits in the present.

I will likely find more troublesome/privileged/racist beliefs in myself in the future.

Every white person, no matter how well-meaning, is complicit in the consequences brought about by institutional racism and it is OUR responsibility to 

1. Acknowledge it to ourselves

2. Listen when others point out our poor beliefs/behaviors

3. NOT RELY ON OTHERS to point out our poor beliefs/behaviors but constantly assess them for ourselves with a critical eye

4. Educate ourselves and never EVER think we are finished learning

5. NEVER pull the “I’m not like them I’m a good ally” bullshit.

6. Instead, try to find active ways to use our privilege to help, but not eclipse, POC 

For what I have done, for what I may be doing, for what I still may do: I am sorry. No excuses. I will strive to be better.

[a-woman-apart]

Keeping my Eyes Open

Normally I end up running a lot of different errands and doing a lot on my two days off (Sunday and Monday) but this time I just mostly stayed at home (like a total hermit) dosing up on Youtube and writing for Tumblr. Despite the fact that I don't have TV channels or internet access on my laptop I'm still able to keep abreast of most issues on my phone and by listening to the radio. I'm realizing now how very important it is to allow yourself to be exposed to different historical accounts (I just learned about the Tulsa Race Riot of 1921), testimonies from people who are not like yourself, and different political views (I listened to almost the whole RNC on the radio). Unfortunately, though, we live in a world where Ted Cruz saying "vote your conscience" is considered worthy of boos because it didn't explicitly spell out support for Trump, and the media constantly throws around the sentence "Sanders can't control his followers" as though he were a possessor of some kind of hypnotic mind control and could "make" his followers to heed his request to rally around Hilary Clinton (as a former Sanders supporter I found this very offensive). In my journey to become more educated and open-minded I've been forced to confront some of my own ideas. I've been learning a lot about how asking transgender men/women about their bodies/surgeries could be invasive- and I know, I wouldn't have probably done that in person, but I can see where it can be just as offensive if someone makes that question a part of their journalistic "interview". (I'm trying not to name any names because I don't want to be a part of the controversy). I think I've also mentioned on here before how I didn't think racism affected me- but there are just so many different ways to be racist. It can come in the form of being sexually objectified by men of other races, and not just in hateful spewing of the n-word. There's a such thing as "societal/structural racism" in which minority groups are placed in a system where it's difficult for them to advance in society (think blacks/POC being less likely to receive a job offer or a promotion, being placed by the government in "ghettos" from the very start, or the mass incarceration of black males). In the past, I wouldn't have called myself a "feminist", because in my early life I thought that feminism was all about hating men while simultaneously trying to be as much like them as possible. Now I see there are so many different ways to be a feminist, and that some of the different "feminisms" are actually at odds with eachother (who would've thought?) In other words, there is no cookie-cutter description of being "woke". So far being woke for me has been about recognizing privilege in various forms, being aware of the struggles of marginalized groups, recognizing wealth inequality as part of the overall problem, realizing that "religious freedom" can be a cloak for religious persecution and prejudice, and also being aware that no matter how much that you "know" there's still a lot more to discover.    This is the first time that I've been mentally healthy enough to participate in the political process, and I am so proud to be able to be a part of making history. I often said that if Trump was elected President I would probably leave the country, but as someone pointed out to me it's very difficult to start over somewhere else- I mean look at how the immigrants who come here have to struggle- and now I see that "bailing" on my country might not be the best route to take. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens in November. In the mean time I'm just going to keep doing my thing.   

[spandrella]

Writing a trans character/checking my privilege

So I'm writing a story in which the narrator character is trans. He's trans, but the story isn't about him being trans, if you get my meaning. But I'm cis, and so I messaged one of my trans friends today, to school me on what I thought would be a fairly basic nuts and bolts question about legally changing one's name and gender on government ID documents. And, in the manner of things, it turned into a whole nother conversation. Background on where I'm coming from: though I'm cis, I have multiple genderqueer/trans/gender nonconforming friends. I don't say this to imply that that means I'm totes the most awesome ally, but just too convey that I'm not a total novice (and my friends, particularly the one I was talking to today, have historically been willing to call me on my shit or answer my trans101 questions on the occasions when I slip into privileged straightness). My basic philosophy about genderqueerness of all sorts is that I basically don't care. I mean, I want to get your pronouns right. I want to honor the person you are. I want to give credence to your experience, and I know a lot of that experience involves various shades of being unsafe or unhonored. And one of the ways I try to counter transphobia that is that I rarely talk to my trans friends about their gender unless they bring it up. Their whole life isn't about being trans; not all our conversations have to be about that. I figure they have their gender questioned in any number of myriad ways every single day, the least I can do is not be another voice in the choir. Lets talk about Buffy or X-Men or something. But as I was talking to my friend about name changes, and about going through airport security when you have a binder on, I realized that the very thing that makes me an okay trans ally is what's going to work against me if I'm going to get my character right. If I'm going to honor his experiences as a transperson, it's going to touch every moment in the story, whether the story it's about his gender or not (it's not). And I find myself thinking of the institutions that he's going to be interacting with as people--big, blank, implacable people--that he's going to bounce off of. They're characters I have to think about. And this is where my mindset, and my privilege, work against me. Because to me it doesn't matter if my friend is trans. But it matters to him. It effects every minute of his life. And it matters to a lot of the people he interacts with (even though it shouldn't). So that all had to play a role in how this character walks through the world. I still want to write a story with a trans character that is not about that character's coming out process. And I think that I can (particularly if one of my trans friends ends up being willing to give the story a check to make sure I don't end up being a total asshole). But, as my friend reminded me today, "You can't just be casually trans."

[multiplestars]

When I think of what it looks like to talk to young boys about entitlement, I think of a story my friend likes to tell about his professor. While over at the professor’s house for dinner, his 4 year old son hit his older sister. The professor pulled his son aside and asked the boy, “What’s the most important thing about being a man?” The little boy, embarrassed, said, “Being gentle.” Brilliant.

Jamie Utt, 10 ways men can combat sexist entitlement in public

[salaciousseditions-blog]

Privilege

Someone very dear to me reports having had an excellent conversation on the topic of privilege-checking earlier today.  This is one of my favourite I-statement structured illustrations of the practice.

[uncautiouslyoptimistic]

The Struggle

This feminist, activist, organizing thing is hard. It's especially hard when I find myself in spaces that are supposed to be about advancing the rights of women and girls, but they are uncritical, unpolitical and decidedly unfeminist.

I am a Caribbean woman with the privilege that comes from having spent most of my life living in North America, and the baggage of being an immigrant woman of colour trying to navigate spaces that are subtly hostile to us, when not being overtly so. 

I am part of a collective of women working to raise awareness about issues impacting women and girls around the world and to empower them. As the organization has grown, opportunities for funding and to take part in global forums about women's rights have materialized. I see my colleagues become feverishly excited at the opportunity to take part in these high level discussions but I can't help but feel like we are taking up space. This group of white middle class do gooders and me. Taking up space that should be occupied by the women we claim to be giving voice to.

The amount of funding that we have been able to gain access to in such a short time makes me uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable because this funding would never be made available to the grassroots women's groups doing the real work of challenging the societal structures that uphold women's oppression. 

I am uncomfortable that we fit so neatly into the existing framework of people and organizations taking about and admonishing injustice without actually doing anything to shift the balance of power.

I am uncomfortable that I, as part of the smaller decision-making team, have been left out of decision-making and further left in the dark about happenings within the organization. 

My colleagues don't see these things and I struggle with how much responsibility I hold for making them aware. For checking them on their privilege and speaking out about my feelings. My thought is that it would be exhausting. I should not have to do the emotional and intellectual work of checking myself while also doing it for you (and thereby reinforcing your privilege).

When I joined this collective, I was the only woman of colour. My joining was deliberate. It was me saying that you cannot claim to advocate for all women if you are representative of only one type of woman, so I am going to take up space and I am going to make sure that the stories I want to share have a place here. But this journey has shown me that this collective is not my community. My community is radical, inclusive and feminist. 

So yes, this feminist, activist, organizing thing is hard; but I am grateful to the people who help shape the radical, inclusive, feminist communities that I find home in.