Yes, we have reached the letter ‘I’ in my vaguely arranged feminist’s ABC! There are two reasons as to why ‘I’ follows ‘S’ in my alphabet: one, because I am terrible at obeying any kind of internal order and two, because I want to write an easy-going introduction to intersectionality. Why? Because I have been thinking about it, a lot! Now, to my relief, I have a forum on which I can do that very thing. AND SO LET IT BE DONE.
Intersectionality strikes me as the Marmite of contemporary feminism: you either love it, because it requires inclusion and caution and a routine questioning of your own perspective, or you hate it, because it strikes you as a way of telling people to sit down, shut up and mind their own business. (Okay, so it’s only a bit like Marmite.) But before I talk about some of the reasons behind these positions, I should probably talk about what intersectionality is.
First, let me clarify: I am no esteemed Scholar of Feminism. What I know, I know because, whenever I get interested in something, I tend to get sort of obsessive and scary and read about it loads. It began with Spice Girls. Now? Now, it is happening with feminism. In short: if you find that I am wrong about something, or have misrepresented it, know that I invite corrections, criticism and comments. Still, moving on!
Basically, intersectionality is a theory that invites you to consider multiple kinds of oppression all in one go rather than separately. It recognises that different systems of oppression – sexism, classism, ableism and racism, for example – interact and intersect. Personally, I am a fan of Roz Kaveney’s definition of it as ”the simple observation that most people having a bad time in this society are getting it in the neck for several things at once”. One helpful way of thinking about intersectionality’s relationship to feminism has, surprisingly, been prepared for us by delicious but unethical philosopher and thinker Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups! NOTE FROM REESE’S HEAD QUARTERS of STRAINED ANALOGIES: for ‘chocolate’ please substitute ‘anti-racism/class struggle/ LGBTQ activism, etc.’ and for ‘peanut butter’ please think ‘feminism’:
“You got your class struggle in my feminism!”
If your feminism is to be intersectional, then, it means you have to think of a whole host of oppressions alongside, say, patriarchy. And it is tough work! To clarify how and why it might be useful, though, I shall provide you with two examples. Both concern the intersections of gender and race, because that it is what I know from personal experience. Feel free to substitute with whatever, though! (Except peanut butter. Yuck.)
This, here, is an engraving from Ye Olde Times (actually 1575, or so) depicting Amerigo Vespucci “discovering” America:
NOTE: Image has been modified. Strange dog creature in right-hand corner has been added for comic effect.
America is right! There is a lot of messed up shit going down in this here engraving. We may note, for instance, that America herself is portrayed according to a deeply sexist tradition. While Amerigo, the man, is associated with culture (note the flag, his sword, the ships and the, uh, ambiguous navigational instrument), America represents that which must be tamed. She is associated with fertility, with nature, with animals, and is prone on a hammock, ready to be conquered. SIGH. Patriarchy, amirite?
But wait! Not only is America a woman, she is, specifically, a woman of colour. A nubile savage, she is naked but for a loincloth and one of those foreign hats. (Old paintings pay a lot of attention to hats. I suspect that, in Ye Olde Time-y Europe, they operated like a sartorial version of the Language of Flowers.) This is not just sexism at work, you guys; this is also some racist shit. The ideology of colonialism often sets up a dichotomy between manly, white Europeans and a wild, fertile, feminised land inhabited by nubile servants. Often hatless servants! If we look at the sexism and ignore the racism, our (hastily concocted, I confess!) analysis of the engraving isn’t particularly comprehensive. In the same way, addressing the racism without also examining the sexist narrative at work is unhelpful.
So, America is being construed simultaneously as a woman and as a woman of colour, from a white, male, and colonialist perspective. Racism and sexism are both at work, here, and at the same time. An intersectional approach, then, gives you the tools with which to disentangle these Yarns of Fail.
So, America is being construed simultaneously as a woman and as a woman of colour, from a white, male, and colonialist perspective. Racism and sexism are both at work, here, and at the same time. An intersectional approach, then, gives you the tools with which to disentangle these Yarns of Fail.
Example the Second: That Afternoon a Child Drew on my Hand
I’m fortunate enough to be a woman with a lot of Tiny Baby Cousins. One of them is a brilliant, bright five-year-old girl who enjoys showing me how to use a computer and loftily correcting me about CBeebies. Once, when we were drawing together, she ordered me to sketch her a princess. “A princess?” I thought to myself, because I frequently stress out about Children and Education and, oh, God, what if I break her. “Oh, no! Princesses represent a normative and narrowly defined image of femininity! PLUS I will be teaching this child to venerate the idle upper classes, which, that’s the opposite of what I want.”
You guys, I’ll be the first to admit that my thought processes, they are tiresome.
“Um,” I said, stalling. “What’s a princess? What do they look like?” Tiny Baby Cousin raised her tiny baby eyebrows. “They’re blonde,” she replied, as if she were talking to an even younger child. “And thin. They have peachy skin.”
I stared at her. Then, “What about brown princesses?” I asked, dreading the answer. “Can princesses be brown?”
“No,” Tiny Baby Cousin explained, patiently. “I said. They can’t be.”
I stared at her for another moment. Then I drew a princess, outmoded ideals of femininity and the monarchy be damned. And my princess had brown skin and black, curly hair. Like my cousin. Like me.
Again, it’s not just about sexism. It’s about racism. It’s about how black womanhood is constructed, what images we’re fed with. Black women aren’t feminine and pretty; they don’t have long, flowing locks; they’re certainly not rich enough to spend their afternoons waltzing around a castle whilst embroidering pillows. At the age of five, Tiny Baby Cousin had already internalised this message. I don’t know why I was surprised at that; it’s what kids do. It’s what I did.
In this situation, I looked at gender, I looked at race, and I came to a conclusion. For a white girl, I reasoned, drawings of willowy princesses may reinforce stereotypes surrounding white womanhood. For a black girl, however, a picture of a princess who looks like her can to some extent work against the stereotype. This? It’s thinking in terms of intersectionality.
Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. In fact, I reckon a lot of people who experience multiple forms of oppression think like this because they’ve learned to, because this is how they move in the world, not because they know the word for it. But I'm glad the word is there.
Pros and Cons
“But,” you may exclaim, “you make it out to be all sunshine and roses and American baby princesses! Has there not been… critique? Do we perhaps sense… a bias?”
Fine! There is a bias. I am of course one hundred per cent in favour of intersectionality both in theory and in practice! I HAVE ULTERIOR MOTIVES. Still, intersectionality has received criticism from some feminists and, because I want to be fair, I’ll provide you with a list of some of the issues that have been raised in regards to it. To start things off, here’s some Suzanne Moore!
Con: Intersectionality is Divisive
Look, I know what you’re thinking. “Suzanne Moore?” you scoff, in your heads. “But you already panned her article in a previous blog post! If this is your idea of eliminating bias, then we are glad you went into the humanities.” I know. This time, however, I’ll be focusing on the things she has said about intersectionality, because I think she raises a few points that I’ve seen recur around the Internet in a variety of guises. Moore defines intersectionality, the “new buzzword”, as:
…we must understand our own privilege: the multiple oppressions of race, class, culture and sexuality… Intersectionality is good in theory, though in practice, it means that no one can speak for anyone else. It is the dead-end where much queer politics, feminist politics and identity politics ends up. In its own rectum. It refuses to engage with many other political discourses and becomes the old hierarchy of oppression.
There are a few things going on here, I think: first, intersectionality is labelled “new” as opposed to good old-fashioned feminism; second, intersectionality is portrayed as divisive and self-involved, as it means “no one can speak for anyone else”; third, debates surrounding intersectionality will inevitable invite and devolve into Oppression Olympics.
In a sense, intersectionality is divisive. It challenges the assumption that “women” are a homogenous group with the same priorities and interests. My experience of oppression, for instance, doesn’t exactly mirror that of a white, working-class woman. Consequently, this opens up for the fragmentation of a seemingly cohesive social movement – such as the feminist movement – along a number of lines, as it asks people to investigate and question their own privileges and prejudices. Tricky! Except…
Moore goes on to write something I actually do agree with. She says:
It makes me nauseous to see feckless Etonians kick single parents in the face. It makes me ill that meritocracy is the ruling-class myth, that policy is not about economics but rancid ideology. I wanted to say again that feminism is not a white, middle-class concern: look at Sierra Leone, Egypt, India.
Intersectionality isn’t new. It was practised and articulated primarily, I think, by women of colour back in the seventies. The term itself dates back to 1989. It’s as old as I am, in fact! Meaning it is mature, yet vivacious. Lively, but with hidden depths and a secret sadness at its core. Moreover, I’d argue that it does engage with “other political discourses”. By its very nature, it has to.
Con: Intersectionality is Too Theoretical!
There’s an echo of this argument in Moore’s “intersectionality is good in theory.” Seeing as it is a theory, this is arguably true! However, people find it difficult to put it into practice – either that, or they find the people who do put it into practice unbearably sanctimonious. The Humourless Feminist Stereotype, it seems, has shifted from mainstream feminism to All-Round Social Justice Feminists. Allied with such fearsome powers as the Language Police and the Politically Correct Mob, these Puritan Feminists launch themselves at anyone who refuses to wear the dreaded Hairshirt of Privilege. Flee, lest they come at you with their torches and Invisible Knapsacks!
Pro: Intersectionality Can Be Put Into Practice
I’m sure there are some people who behave in the way described above. I remember one instance, in particular, when an exchange occurred publically when it should have been kept private; the check-your-privilege process was quite clearly a way for one feminist to trump another. However, there are people who behave this way along the entire political spectrum. It’s a people thing rather than a Humourless Feminist thing.
I don’t think intersectionality demands that you be perfect at everything and deeply, thoroughly consider every social ill. It does, however, demand that you listen. For example, I’m privileged in a number of ways: I’m straight, middle-class, cis, and have nada visible disibilities. As such, so many other perspectives and experiences out there are foreign to me. It is pretty humbling, once you consider it. Intersectionality invites you to listen to those experiences. Listen, consider it, and take it in. Learn.
Because, think about it: How much is freedom for women worth, really, if it’s gained on the backs of other women? Is feminism here for all women, or for some? If so, who will those women be? Who gets to decide who’s saved… and who is LEFT BEHIND.
Like this, but with feminism and more convinving cries of despair.
That’s why my feminism has to be intersectional. It requires that I oppose all sorts of oppression, because I do believe those systems are complex, interlinked and toxic. Therefore, I present you with my new slogan, and the new slogan of this blog: