Race in Feminism: Directing Our Efforts

As a black feminist who’s passionate

about challenging our scope of race

inside the feminist movement, I feel

I’ve noticed a slight trend in the

behavior of some of the white allies I

speak to. More often than not someone will relay to

me an experience that they recognize to be racist such

as a time when “their black friend was thrown out of a

club just because he’s black” or how “their mates get

stopped by police all the time and its soooo unfair” etc.

etc. Most of the examples are rightfully identified, and

it’s positive that they feel strongly about them. But the

reality is I don’t feel comfortable with white allies

sharing this sort of information with me – it’s not me

you need to be telling.

Overall I don’t feel like you’re any more of an ally just

because you recognize a situation where racism has

occurred because that’s not really enough. When you

share with and show people news about racism you

need to ask yourself why you’re doing it. Are you

sharing this with others because you want to alert them

to the fact racism is a problem? Because you want to

challenge racist views held by others? Or because you

want to prove your comradeship to me as your black

companion? As a black person I’m already aware of

these exist - as disenfranchised groups often have to be

alert towards their treatment on a near continuous

basis (often for the sake of their own safety) you are

not doing anything to stop racism by telling me that it

exists; I already know!

Rather it’s your white friends you should be showing,

that is, the ones who don’t agree. Use this information

to challenge white supremacy where you see it and

show this information to the people who don’t have to

live with it every day.

This is not to criticize people for being aware of racism

in situations, that’s positive and showing solidarity with

black women is clearly a good thing. But to me it comes

across as a method of proving that you’re an ally. It

brings an air of “look at me, I’m sympathetic to your

cause!” to the conversation – it’s great that you

recognize oppression is bad but it doesn’t mean you

deserve to be rewarded for it with my approval. The

same attitude we take with men championing the

feminist movement should be applied here – we are

pleased that you are willing to fight for our cause but

that does not mean you should be congratulated for

doing it; as a person in a position of privilege you are

doing what is required.

Consider the events at last year’s Emmys hosted by Neil

Patrick Harris. In a response to the nearly all-white

nominations Harris remarked “Tonight we celebrate

Hollywood’s best and whitest, sorry … brightest”.

Socially aware? Yes, he clearly brought light to a

problematic situation, but the joke tends to fall flat

when we’re sitting hear a year later with no such

improvement in nomination diversity. Imagine if this

quip was rather a serious address to the Oscars voting

board complaining about their lack of diversity in

nominations. Imagine what kind of ground we can make

when we use our awareness productively rather than

to just let people know we’re aware.

Obviously I cannot and do not attempt to speak for all

black women on this matter, but I feel it’s imperative

that white allies understand the point of what I’m saying

here. It’s not to say that you can’t tell black people

about what’s going on, the point is to direct the effort

towards those that NEED to hear it so we can challenge

white supremacy in all its forms, no matter how difficult

it might be.

Christine Ochefu

Unshrinking

Exactly how many years does it take

to unlearn the ways you have shrunk yourself

To unravel your body, your laughter, your silence

from their habitual residences

and teach them swear words in the back alleys of your happiness.

On my bad days,

when I find myself biting my bleeding lips

in case I laughed too loud four conversations ago

and somebody noticed,

I remember the first women who taught me

that to love yourself

is an act of political defiance.

I remember penny and hooks and angelou and petrie

and the girl in my school who told me, unfaltering,

she wouldn’t change a thing about herself.

On my good days,

I am scorching to the touch,

fiery words flinging into places of bigotry

quicker than any hand that has ever touched me.

I am glowing; unshakeable;

a piecemeal revolution.

Anna Oakes-Monger

Unshrinking

Exactly how many years does it take

to unlearn the ways you have shrunk yourself

To unravel your body, your laughter, your silence

from their habitual residences

and teach them swear words in the back alleys of your happiness.

On my bad days,

when I find myself biting my bleeding lips

in case I laughed too loud four conversations ago

and somebody noticed,

I remember the first women who taught me

that to love yourself

is an act of political defiance.

I remember penny and hooks and angelou and petrie

and the girl in my school who told me, unfaltering,

she wouldn’t change a thing about herself.

On my good days,

I am scorching to the touch,

fiery words flinging into places of bigotry

quicker than any hand that has ever touched me.

I am glowing; unshakeable;

a piecemeal revolution.

Anna Oakes-Monger