Saturday, 16 February 2013

a feminist's abc: i is for intersectionality

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.)

Example the First: Art and History

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.
 
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…
 
Pro: Intersectionality is Inclusive!

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.

The British government’s policies
hit women hard, yes, but it impacts them differently. How do they affect disabled women? What about women of colour or immigrant women? How do we open up a space for these women to speak for themselves, to fight, to object to policies that are actively marginalising them? No, feminism is not just a white, middle-class concern. And that’s precisely why it needs intersectionality. It turns one voice into a chorus of voices – and that makes it stronger.  


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:


Wednesday, 6 February 2013

a feminist's ABC: s is for sisterhood


I was distracted from working on my new novel, Fifty Shades of Hunger Game of Thrones*, by a completely new and destructive social phenomenon. Apparently, some women are ruining feminism! What does ‘ruining feminism’ mean, exactly? According to Jenny McCartney in The Telegraph,

The position of women is regressing, not legislatively but socially, and often for reasons that did not originate with men. It was women, after all, who voluntarily stampeded towards the creeping tyranny of needless plastic surgery and a pathological obsession with grooming.

Women! Your love of grooming and unnecessary plastic surgery, which of course originated in a mysterious cultural vacuum, is ruining it for the rest of us! McCartney, you have hit the nail on the head. Carry on! What is the result of our relentless and entirely gratuitous augmentation of our own bodies?

And so now we have a Britain in which mainstream comedians tell jokes on television about women allegedly liking rape; a fragile London schoolgirl plunges to her death in distress because she has been bullied into giving a boy oral sex… and 20,000 girls in Britain are deemed “at risk” from the shocking crime of female genital mutilation…

Wait a second, McCartney. None of the examples of sexism you’ve listed are a direct consequence of women’s baffling struggle to look svelte and have neat hair. In fact, the things you’ve listed are a consequence of – gasp – patriarchy! I’m going to go out on a limb, here, and say that women ‘voluntarily stamped[ing] towards… plastic surgery’ is also a symptom of patriarchy rather than one of its causes.

Still, Jenny McCartney isn’t alone in expressing frustration at and disappointment with women who, in some way or other, seem overtly complicit in their own oppression. Talking about Katie Price, Caitlin Moran writes that, “Women who, in a sexist world, pander to sexism to make their fortune are Vichy France with tits.” Recently, Hadley Freeman criticised Beyoncé for talking about gender equality in her undies, thus, supposedly, undermining her own message. (I don’t think it undermines her message so much as it illustrates and supports it but, whatever! For once, we are not discussing Beyoncé.)

I’ve seen it happen. I’ve probably participated in it myself, even! Some woman becomes famous for wearing very little clothing, and then the rest of us turn on her, like, “You make it ha-a-ard for women like me who try to have some integrity.” (More Beyoncé! I can't help myself.) This approach? It’s not going to get us anywhere.

Because the problem isn’t the women. The problem is that we, you know, live in a society that places power in the hands of men and asks us to access that power through men. If we conform to stereotype, if we align ourselves with whoever’s got the highest status, we’re rewarded for it. As a woman, I know I’ve let the side down. I’ve wanted to be one of the guys, despite knowing that that’s not the done thing, with feminism! I’ve laughed along with racist jokes and suppressed feelings of discomfort because, well, I didn’t want to be that black person. The thing is, we all conform to social pressure to some extent. We all try to find ways to negotiate a society that can, at times, feel downright hostile. Am I going to go after the symptom or expression of that deeply unfair system, or the system itself? You know what my answer is: don’t reject Katie Price, people; reject Page Three.

What I’d like to see more of, actually, is some solidarity between women. In fact, I’d like to see some sisterhood up in here! I think a sprinkle of some seventies-flavoured sisterhood could – maybe – help strengthen women as a group and the idea of feminism as a big, collective, inclusive movement. Show your fellow ladies some love and appreciation! Even Katie Price.

Lastly, I know that there are legitimate issues you can raise about the idea of the sisterhood as a THING. The one that I’ve struggled with personally is, I suppose, the way in which calls to Unify the Sisterhood threaten to obscure differences and power relations within women as a group. What I’ve discovered, though, is that it helps if you remain critical of your own power and perspective in relation to other people. So move on over, bromance – it’s time for some womance.

LOVE THESE GALS.



*Simultaneously my best and least coherent idea, ever, and it is but a throwaway jest. Tragic.

Wednesday, 30 January 2013

on rape and "risk management"

Yes, friends, it has happened again: a public figure has connected short skirts and high heels on a woman with rape! For so sayeth Richard Graham, Tory MP:

If you are a young woman on her own trying to walk back home through Gloucester Park, early in the morning in a tight, short skirt and high shoes and there's a predator and if you are blind drunk and wearing those clothes how able are you to get away?

He goes on to note that his comments are “risk management” and “a million miles from saying anything like ‘she was asking for it’.” (Not just one thousand miles, people! A million. My advice is to keep that song playing as you’re reading the article, as it might help ease feelings of the “blargh, again?” variety. Onwards! )

Much like the turning of the tide or the rising of the sun, comments like Graham’s may strike the attentive feminist as cyclical, even inevitable in nature. Joanna Lumley, also quoted in the article, warns women against, “[being] sick in the gutter at midnight in a silly dress with no money to get a taxi home, because somebody will take advantage of you.” A while back, Caitlin Moran said in an interview that part of the reason she doesn’t wear high heels out is because, “when I’m lying in bed at night with my husband, I know there’s a woman coming who I could rape and murder, because I can hear her coming up the street in high heels…”

Frightening! Also, misleading! If you look at the actual statistics, it emerges that most women experience sexual violence and rape at the hands of men they already know. Rapists, it seems, aren’t always strange nocturnal creatures who hibernate in public parks and are roused by the sight of bared flesh. Judging by these statistics, any “risk management” involving rape should sound more like, “Don’t form any close relationships with men, girls, or someone will take advantage of you! Boyfriends? HAHA never.” Except no one would say that, of course, because they’d recognise how ridiculous it was. And, yet, women are still routinely told how to dress, where to go, who to talk to and what to drink – all, presumably, in order to “prevent” rape. Yeah.

In short, Graham’s comments aren’t “a million miles away” from blaming survivors of sexual assault; they tie into the idea that something the woman did or didn’t do provoked violence. Good, sensible women who wear flats and don’t get drunk are, Graham suggests, safe from attacks.

Nope. Not true! But it's a persistent and damaging myth. If we really want to do something about the underlying causes of rape and rape culture, comments like Graham’s have to be taken apart and challenged. How about, for instance, discussing “risk management” with potential rapists instead? “If you are a young man,” Richard Graham could say, “walking back home early in the morning, and you’re feeling predatory, and you are blind drunk and wearing loose clothing, why not check yourself? Before you wreck yourself.” Rape prevention ads and advice should target rapists. After all, they’re the ones who are responsible.

But! I don’t want my opponents to think me unfair. Having reviewed their comments, I’ve nevertheless searched the Internet for modes of dress that could – potentially! – fit their descriptions of “safe” outfits. Overall, the aim should be to 1) increase mobility and 2) increase visibility, so that people can come to your aid! After some thought, I found the perfect type of clothing – fancy dress!



Dress up as a cherished character from a TV-show! Everyone loves Big Bird with the deep, abiding love of childhood. Plus, the costume helps hide your identity. Is it a man? Is it a woman? Or is it just a giant bird?


“Dead or alive, you’re coming with me.” RoboCop is a robot AND a cop, meaning he is essentially unstoppable (save in the presence of giant magnets). He’s also a threatening figure to find stumbling through Gloucester Park early in the morning! No one messes with RoboCop.



Make it look as though you’re ALREADY in danger! No man will come near you if you’re in the process of being devoured by a shark. “That looks stressful,” he’ll say to himself and move on into the night, no longer bent on his nefarious purposes. It’s the perfect late-night clubbing outfit!


But of course, ladies, don’t forget the shoes! High heels are obviously out. Why not get yourself a pair of fetching trainers? Easy to combine with any of the costumes above!

…oh. Oh. You mean none of these cunning disguises will help? Well, damn. I guess it’s true, then – the message should be “don’t rape” rather than “don’t get raped.” I’ll stand by that.

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

on girls, five hundred months after everyone else

Recently, a friend of mine asked me what I thought about the series Girls. I suspect I know the reason for this inquiry! It’s because, last year, everyone had opinions about the series Girls. Now that the second series is out, the opinions are more abundant than ever. A lot of the discussion has focused on the whiteness of the show, by which I mean: everyone in this here show is white!* You all know this, because you have access to the Internet and, like I said, an abundance of opinions all over that place.

A lot of people are, like, “Why does everyone go on about how Lena Dunham doesn’t include people of colour in Girls? There are no people of colour anywhere, in any shows! I will not take your complaints seriously, MADAM, until you have criticised How I Met Your Mother for the very same reasons.”

Surprise! I think there’s something valid in this argument (except, I don’t watch How I Met Your Mother, so I’ll leave that particular blog post to someone else). I do think we should more frequently analyse the way in which whiteness on television is so pervasive that we don’t even see it anymore. I absolutely think we should look into how whiteness as a norm shapes our society and affects the self-perception of people of colour. But, for some reason, a lot of people decided to focus their criticism on Girls in particular. “How come?” I hear forlorn voices cry out. “Girls isn’t worse than Game of Thrones!”

I have a thought about why some people turned on Girls: it is because the entire world, when Girls came out, was all, “This is so feminist and totally true to the world! This is a show about girls being gross, and fun, and pathetic, and friends with one another. Feminist!” And then a lot of us who are not white, and who identify as feminists, were frustrated, because once again ‘feminism’ was being conflated with ‘stuff white girls do’. It can totally be this thing, if the stuff the white girls happen to be doing is feminist in nature, but the two are so frequently made one that it makes me want to weep a single tear and watch re-runs of Moesha. A lot of the anger, I think, is directed at the hype surrounding the show (“this feminist show is true to every woman’s life, everywhere!”) rather than at the show itself. It’s an entertaining show, you guys! I am aware of this because I watched the entire series with improbable efficiency.

But then, the fact remains that it is, you know, a very white show. And, guess what? This can be alienating to a lot of its viewers!

What can frustrate me as a black lady feminist is when certain (usually, but now always, white) feminists suddenly dismiss the importance of representation when it concerns questions of ethnicity and race (or sexuality, or disability, depending on day or mood or the Alignment of the Planets, I suppose!). These are the same people who routinely – and rightly – raise the issue of female representation. They protest the way in which women are marginalised, objectified or made invisible in popular culture, and argue that this stems from and feeds into a patriarchal society. Why, then, is it so difficult to see that a similar logic is at work in connection with race? Why, when this is pointed out, is the answer so frequently, “Sigh, do you need to see yourself everywhere?” Yes, please! But if I can’t have that, can I at least see examples of more diverse representation? Can I not be reduced to the Sassy Best Friend or the Magical Negro or the Exotic Lady of Various Mysteries? At the very least, can I be made visible? I’d like that a lot. We all do.

So what do I think about Girls? I think it’s sometimes very funny. I think Lena Dunham seems like one cool lady. I also think it’s a show that loves its shiny, privileged bubble and, to some extent, criticises it. Personally, I don’t think it criticises it enough. For me, then, it’s a show that I occasionally watch and enjoy rather than the Herald of the Coming Feminist Revolution, after which, it has been said, the crops shall quicken, the unicorns return and the backrubs will be plentiful. All hail the Revolution!



* Although I have heard rumoured that this is no longer the case, which is cool, because Donald Glover is the secret boyfriend of my heart and he should be in everything. First stop: my flat! HAHA no seriously.

Sunday, 13 January 2013

transphobia, julie burchill, and in-fighting pt 2

So, I suffer from recurring insomnia. This means that, now and then, I will go through a period of about a week or a month during which I find it difficult – nay, impossible – to fall asleep. I try everything. I count sheep! I read dull and incomprehensible texts! Tormented, I even consider going up and doing something else for a bit, before being like, “I cannot! Because what if sleep comes around and I am not there to greet it?”

In one word, it is terrible. But because pictures apparently say lots of words, or something, I shall try and communicate what it feels like through the medium of Great Art:



The one positive thing about not being able to sleep, however, is that it gives you time to think. In fact, it gives you enough time to think all of the things, and usually all at once. A thing I’ve been thinking about during the deep dark watches of the night, then, is What Feminism Means to Me.

Feminism, for me, is inclusive. It’s based on mutuality, on solidarity, and on the willingness to listen to differing viewpoints. It doesn’t bully, or silence or intimidate; it doesn’t ignore the existence of overlapping oppressions. In short, it’s about equality – real equality, the idea that we’re all, fundamentally, people who deserve respect, and attention, and care.

For me, feminism is the exact opposite of Julie Burchill’s article in The Observer today.

Here is the thing: I wasn’t going to write a Thing about Julie Burchill’s defence of Suzanne Moore. Honestly! I was like, “You know what? This is hate speech. And the thing with hate speech is, you cannot argue with it like a rational person making an argument against something! For it is the speech of hatred and, as such, it should not be validated by counter-arguments.”

But then I had an Insight. This insight was that, on the contrary, I should write about it precisely because it is hate speech. It is hate speech that someone, somewhere, actually published. In a newspaper! In a newspaper that plenty of people read. I feel like I have to belabour this point somewhat, so: PUBLISHED in the OBSERVER that loads of people READ.

I’m not going to link the article, because I don’t want to give it any more traffic (I know what you’re after, Guardian website, you sly dog). In short, Julie Burchill feels silenced by trans people with PhDs (because it’s totally, like, a class thing rather than a transphobic thing!) and has decided that the best way to deal with it is to go and oppress someone. Loudly! Trans people are, Burchill seems to think, far too celebrated and powerful in our society in general and in the feminist movement in particular. This has gone too far! The daily parades in their honour, the impromptu street festivals, all for the benefit of trans activists… Well, you can imagine.

Actually, you can’t, because that is not what our society looks like! On the contrary, our society undermines, disparages and belittles the experiences of transgender people on a daily basis, partly by publishing articles like Julie Burchill's. Why is this?

I’ll tell you why, though I’m pretty sure Julie Burchill won’t like it: privilege, cissexism and transphobia on a personal and – this bit is important! – structural level. Transphobia and cissexism are a part of our culture, and, as such, are pretty much everywhere. An editor read Burchill’s piece and, rather than being like, “Oh my god, what a terrible and hateful screed!” was all, “Yeah, remove this comma and we’re good to go.” Because this kind of hatred is considered acceptable.

It isn’t acceptable. Not ever.  In my ideal society, where everyone is of course completely on board with What Feminism Means to Me as outlined above, that editor would’ve been like, “Julie, we’d like to commission a fluff piece on, uh, radiators instead. Yes, radiators! That is the task to which we’ll put you.” That would’ve been that. But because we're so far away from this my ideal society right now, it’s important that we recognise this kind of hate speech and call it out. Otherwise, we risk passively accepting – and perpetuating – it.

Lastly, here’s a link to Roz Kaveney’s piece on CiF about the whole thing (damn you, Guardian, you got me!):

Thursday, 10 January 2013

transphobia, suzanne moore, and in-fighting

This will be a brief post, because I am enraged and also I have been drinking lots of coffee. This is a bad combination. It gives me palpitations and sweaty palms! When, when will I learn? But I have something to say and, because I have a blog, I will say it. The thing I want to say is this: sometimes, people should just shut up, listen, and learn to apologise. I know it sounds scary, you guys! But it has to be done.

The reason I feel this so acutely is because I just finished Suzanne Moore’s article in the Guardian about why she isn’t transphobic, really, because once she had friends who were trans! And she’s read Judith Butler and bell hooks and, well, you know how they magically inject you with feminism? They totally did that, for her! This following an impressively transphobic outburst on twitter, in which she manages to be both deeply offensive and deliberately hurtful. In her article, Moore objects to the use of the word transphobia, because it shuts down discussion. Presumably, the discussion is, “Should Moore be allowed to say transphobic things?” in which case, I am sorry, Suzanne, but the answer is no. Forever! SORRY.

Moore’s argument (to the extent that there is one) is that focusing on the oppression of trans people within and without the feminist movement is silly, really, in the Grand Scheme of Things. Cuts are happening across the UK! Women are being hit hard by them! And those things are bad, true. What Moore doesn’t seem to realise, though, is that her contribution to the oppression of some women – and her participation in transphobic culture – is deeply problematic for the movement as a whole. At one point, she even turns on intersectionality, which, what. I mean, WHAT. According to Moore, intersectionality also “shuts down” debate, but I’ve a feeling that, to Moore, “shutting down debate” is the same thing as “asking someone to listen respectfully before they explode in rage on twitter”.

Intersectionality is about respect. It is about understanding. The feminist movement requires it because, otherwise, the diverse experiences of all women risk being subsumed into the wants and needs of one particular kind of woman: someone white, and middle-class, and straight, and cisgender.

Personally, I am a black woman. When white feminists are dismissive of my experience (hello, there, Caitlin Moran, you are still not forgiven!), it feeds into a culture of racism and affects me negatively. Pointing that out, however, almost inevitably leads to a popular silencing tactic I like to refer to as ‘Because Patriarchy!’ Allow me to illustrate:

POPULAR WHITE FEMINIST: Dubious race joke!
ME: I wish you wouldn’t do that. I find it hurtful, you know, that you belittle my experience. Isn’t feminism about the rights of all women?
POPULAR WHITE FEMINIST: Ugh, you people! Always with the in-fighting! Shouldn’t the sisterhood stick together?
ME: Well, yes, but you’re actively oppressing me in a movement ostensibly about equality! I’m a black woman; those two things both make up my identity. You’re asking me to separate the ‘woman’ part from the ‘black’ part and I can’t do that. Why should I?
POPULAR WHITE FEMINIST: Because PATRIARCHY.
ME: …

What Moore (and Moran, for that matter) refuses to acknowledge is the way in which she, through various social privileges, contributes to the exclusion and oppression of a marginalised group of women. And, you know, no one’s perfect! That is fine. I’ve most definitely messed up in the past and, despite my good intentions, will probably do so in the future. When that happens, though, you shut up and listen. Then you apologise. Then you join hands and burst into song as my Vision of Inclusive and Intersectional Feminism comes alive! And the song will be a song of victory and go on to be Christmas no. 1.




Here are some links with which you may compound your fury! Or learn more, whatever.

http://lgbt.co.uk/component/content/article/28-news/issues/213-no-not-moore-transphobia

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

first post: an explanation and the hobbit

I've started a blog! It is true. And I did it for a very specific reason, to wit: a while ago, I did a personality test and it changed my life. Or, you know, it was supposed to change my life. This blog was to be a part of that Ongoing Project of Life-Altering Awesomeness! Allow me to explain myself: I don't normally while away my idle hours with personality tests or Internet quizzes*. Several months ago, however, my former housemate convinced me to take one, because it was, apparently, really good. And I was intrigued. "Very well, Internet," I said to myself. "Judge me!"

And, lo, the Internet spoke to me with Wingèd Words. (Also GIFs. The Internet does that, sometimes.)

"You are an enthusiastic person," quoth the Internet. I agreed. "You like people," the Internet went on, and I was again moved to agree. "Unfortunately, sometimes your enthusiasm gets in the way of… well, getting things done, and so basically you have lots of almost-finished projects that you end up never completing and you will end up unsatisfied and unhappy because, unfinished projects, and then you’ll get some cats and cry into their fur. Never having accomplished your dreams. BYEE."

People. The Internet KNEW me. And its prophecy struck fear into my heart. “Let it not be so!” I cried out, but the Internet did not respond. It had spoken. Determined not to let this come to pass, I said unto myself, “I’ll start a blog! In this blog, I’ll write things and also list weekly challenges – projects that have to be completed! That way, I can keep track and also litter the Internet with opinions on pop-culture, something, I feel, that it’s sorely lacking.”

But then I forgot about it. As is my way! Now that I’ve remembered it again, though, it will be my New Major Project. That way, I can actively work against having to spend my golden years sobbing in front of mildly scornful cats. In short, it’ll be a blog about: things I read (a thing I do a lot), watch (also a thing I do a lot), and things I think about the world and what happens in it. Warning: I also intend to deploy the word ‘problematic’ with frequency and deadly accuracy, as that is definitely something I do a lot.

To start it off, here's one very brief review of a film I watched during the winter holidays!

The Hobbit

I’ll not lie: I was pretty excited about The Hobbit. As a child, I was a humongous Tolkien fan, and could frequently be seen wandering the city streets in a dramatically billowing cloak. But time passed, because that is what time does, and I laid aside my Tolkien ways for other pursuits. So when I went to see The Hobbit, I was at once nostalgic and slightly nervous – what if I didn’t like it anymore? That was my childhood, right there! What if it all just went up in smoke over the period of three hours, augh, come on, Peter Jackson?

And I didn’t like it anymore. But that was fine! My tastes have changed. The Hobbit is a bit of a bro-fest and, at the moment, I am not that into watching twenty old dudes bond in a beautiful but wild landscape. But that one shot of an elf riding a giant elk? That was inspired. Here are some choice scenes for you!
  
AZOG: GAH. I hate not having an arm! I’m just going to shove this fork in.
HENCH-ORC: Azog, man, don’t do it. It’ll get nasty.
AZOG: No, I’m going to do it! Watch me!
HENCH-ORC: Azog, you won’t be able to lift anything! It’ll tear. Believe me, it’s not…
AZOG: OH MY GOD IT HURTS.
HENCH-ORC: We follow you for the charisma, not for the brains.
  
GALADRIEL: Gan…dalf… I… agree… with… El… rond…
GANDALF: Galadriel, are you focusing on this meeting? This is serious business!
GALADRIEL: I… am… focusing…
GANDALF: You’re having a telepathic conversation with Bombur, aren’t you?
GALADRIEL: Dwarves… know… many… rude… jokes…

AZOG: …and the five-hundred-and-seventh reason my new arm sucks: I can’t scratch myself without bleeding profusely.
HENCH-ORC: Perhaps you should get a style that matches the arm? Build yourself a new image.
AZOG: You’re right! I shall be AZOG of the FORK ARM of DOOM. I'll start scowling more. And maybe send someone out to find me a fierce warg that matches my skin tone!
HENCH-ORC II: I hate everything about this.
AZOG: Over-the-top evil, here I come!

DWARVES: We are a rough bunch!
ELVES: Oh, my. Would you like a garden salad?
DWARVES: Real men don’t eat salad.
ELVES: Very well, then, we shall compose a lay about your beards. On the harp. In a song that can only be heard in starlight!
ME: You ALL need to widen your social circles, seriously.

GWAIHIR the EAGLE: We shall carry you, little ones, out of the fire… (the eagles fly and it is beautiful.)
GWAIHIR: …and onto this mountaintop that’s ages away from where you need to be. Bye!
ME: Wow. Eagles are dicks.



*Except sometimes I do ones to see which magic power I’d have, you know, just in case.