On explaining privilege
Mar. 11th, 2009 11:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I keep coming back to RaceFail09. I really wish I wasn't, but it's troubling me, for obvious reasons, and not-so-obvious reasons.
I am not going to try to unpack the invisible knapsack here. I'm just thinking out loud.
Okay, so I am what the Intarwebs would consider a PWC (Privileged White Chick). So far, so good. I am also a lesbian. That makes me both a woman and homosexual. Still with me? Good.
This means that I get the dubious privilege of explaining privilege to those around me who are either not women, or not homosexual, or neither of the above. I get questions on the topic of GLBT issues all the time, especially when I start a new job/meet someone new/enter a new situation. Essentially, I spend a lot of time coming out to people, and then explaining What It All Means. Whether I like it or not, people assume that I am somehow the Official Representative of the Local GLBT Community (which is totally not the case, and I usually try to explain this right off the bat, as part of my little GLBT 101 spiel).
Clicking on a lot of links in the Epic Debate Fail Of Doom, I am coming across a plethora of posts by self-described PoCs (People of Colour), who are righteously annoyed at having to explain themselves to the PWPs (Privileged White People) who ask them for information/clarification/cluebats/etc. Some have downright been foaming at the mouth.
Okay. So I get that this is annoying/frustrating/makes you want to tear your hair out by the roots/possibly commit vehicular manslaughter after particularly stupid-seeming questions. I get it, I do. If one more person asks me if I would choose to be straight if I were given the opportunity, I may not be held responsible for my actions.
That being said, I feel that it is important for me to do this anyway, regardless of what my feelings are on the subject. Yes, it's annoying when someone proclaims that their good friend/cousin/mailmain/busboy is gay and that's totally fine with them, and it's annoying that they seem to want a pat and a cookie for it. But you know what?
They're not going to educate themselves.
It's as simple as that, really. If we, the People Lacking $Privilege, don't say: "You are mistaken in your assumption, and here's why," they are never, ever going to get it. No way, no how. I'm not suggesting that we need to deliver a three-hour multimedia presentation on the ins and outs of privilege, and spoon-feed it to them. But give them something, for crying out loud!
PWPs, myself included, are far from immune from asking really stupid questions to which we honestly don't have the answer. From my perspective, when I ask a stupid question, it's okay to look at me as though I just grew antlers (although my feelings will be hurt, I have yet to die from that particular affliction), but then I would very much like to be told why my question was stupid. It was asked in good faith, and a good faith answer would be appreciated. Even if it's an answer along the lines of: "That question isn't relevant/is stupid, and I don't have the time/energy/capacity to explain it to you in full, but some research in $Place is a good place to start."
Yes, it's tiresome. No, we shouldn't have to do it. No, each individual should not have to suddenly be the representative of $Group to which they belong. It sucks. Absolutely. Nonetheless, it's the reality of the situation, and at the very least the PWPs ought to be encouraged to move past those first tentative steps they're taking, to take the initiative and go out and educate themselves. First steps aren't enough, but if they get whacked on the head with the You-Are-Privileged-And-Therefore-Wrong-Forever Stick, then they're going to pull back into their shell and never come out again, and now it's a lost cause. First steps don't deserve a cookie, but they don't deserve a beatdown, either.
Oh, and while I can fully understand that that last paragraph is essentially an argument about tone, please rest assured that I am not trying to say "If only people had been more civil/polite/less hateful/whatever attribute you please, then this terrible misunderstanding would never have happened," because of course that's patently not true. Maybe the debate would have taken on a different form, and that form would likely have been equally filled with fail on both sides. I'm just lamenting the fact that many people (the aforementioned PWPs) are going to come away from this angry, more confused than ever, and less willing to learn.
I keep swearing I'm done with this, but then I come back and poke at it some more, so I'm no longer going to promise anything. :P
:::ETA:::
I have apparently been linked into
rydra_wong's Linkspam of Doom thing.
So, dear New People Following The Fail To My LJ, I feel compelled to lay down a ground rule, should you want to comment.
Don't be an asshat.
This means no flaming, no personal attacks, no mudslinging, no outing people. Post in good faith, and with an open mind. Wait ten minutes before typing your responses, if you must. If you're still mad, then wait ten more minutes.
My friends (LJ and RL) are a varied bunch, with a wide range of experiences and opinions. The one thing they have in common in this LJ is respect of my space. I would ask that you also show this respect in your posts. (So far so good, btw.)
If you don't follow this one rule, I will ban you summarily, no questions asked.
I am not going to try to unpack the invisible knapsack here. I'm just thinking out loud.
Okay, so I am what the Intarwebs would consider a PWC (Privileged White Chick). So far, so good. I am also a lesbian. That makes me both a woman and homosexual. Still with me? Good.
This means that I get the dubious privilege of explaining privilege to those around me who are either not women, or not homosexual, or neither of the above. I get questions on the topic of GLBT issues all the time, especially when I start a new job/meet someone new/enter a new situation. Essentially, I spend a lot of time coming out to people, and then explaining What It All Means. Whether I like it or not, people assume that I am somehow the Official Representative of the Local GLBT Community (which is totally not the case, and I usually try to explain this right off the bat, as part of my little GLBT 101 spiel).
Clicking on a lot of links in the Epic Debate Fail Of Doom, I am coming across a plethora of posts by self-described PoCs (People of Colour), who are righteously annoyed at having to explain themselves to the PWPs (Privileged White People) who ask them for information/clarification/cluebats/etc. Some have downright been foaming at the mouth.
Okay. So I get that this is annoying/frustrating/makes you want to tear your hair out by the roots/possibly commit vehicular manslaughter after particularly stupid-seeming questions. I get it, I do. If one more person asks me if I would choose to be straight if I were given the opportunity, I may not be held responsible for my actions.
That being said, I feel that it is important for me to do this anyway, regardless of what my feelings are on the subject. Yes, it's annoying when someone proclaims that their good friend/cousin/mailmain/busboy is gay and that's totally fine with them, and it's annoying that they seem to want a pat and a cookie for it. But you know what?
They're not going to educate themselves.
It's as simple as that, really. If we, the People Lacking $Privilege, don't say: "You are mistaken in your assumption, and here's why," they are never, ever going to get it. No way, no how. I'm not suggesting that we need to deliver a three-hour multimedia presentation on the ins and outs of privilege, and spoon-feed it to them. But give them something, for crying out loud!
PWPs, myself included, are far from immune from asking really stupid questions to which we honestly don't have the answer. From my perspective, when I ask a stupid question, it's okay to look at me as though I just grew antlers (although my feelings will be hurt, I have yet to die from that particular affliction), but then I would very much like to be told why my question was stupid. It was asked in good faith, and a good faith answer would be appreciated. Even if it's an answer along the lines of: "That question isn't relevant/is stupid, and I don't have the time/energy/capacity to explain it to you in full, but some research in $Place is a good place to start."
Yes, it's tiresome. No, we shouldn't have to do it. No, each individual should not have to suddenly be the representative of $Group to which they belong. It sucks. Absolutely. Nonetheless, it's the reality of the situation, and at the very least the PWPs ought to be encouraged to move past those first tentative steps they're taking, to take the initiative and go out and educate themselves. First steps aren't enough, but if they get whacked on the head with the You-Are-Privileged-And-Therefore-Wrong-Forever Stick, then they're going to pull back into their shell and never come out again, and now it's a lost cause. First steps don't deserve a cookie, but they don't deserve a beatdown, either.
Oh, and while I can fully understand that that last paragraph is essentially an argument about tone, please rest assured that I am not trying to say "If only people had been more civil/polite/less hateful/whatever attribute you please, then this terrible misunderstanding would never have happened," because of course that's patently not true. Maybe the debate would have taken on a different form, and that form would likely have been equally filled with fail on both sides. I'm just lamenting the fact that many people (the aforementioned PWPs) are going to come away from this angry, more confused than ever, and less willing to learn.
I keep swearing I'm done with this, but then I come back and poke at it some more, so I'm no longer going to promise anything. :P
:::ETA:::
I have apparently been linked into
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
So, dear New People Following The Fail To My LJ, I feel compelled to lay down a ground rule, should you want to comment.
Don't be an asshat.
This means no flaming, no personal attacks, no mudslinging, no outing people. Post in good faith, and with an open mind. Wait ten minutes before typing your responses, if you must. If you're still mad, then wait ten more minutes.
My friends (LJ and RL) are a varied bunch, with a wide range of experiences and opinions. The one thing they have in common in this LJ is respect of my space. I would ask that you also show this respect in your posts. (So far so good, btw.)
If you don't follow this one rule, I will ban you summarily, no questions asked.
Jumping in a little late 1
Date: 2009-03-13 09:37 pm (UTC)I find this post very interesting. I must say it rings very familiar bells, because I have long entertained the exact same thoughts you are expressing here.
I always liked to think of myself as mild-mannered and soft spoken. It came from a deeply held belief that softness is an essential measure of respect, and does wonders in changing peoples' hearts and minds. I still consider it to be an important ingredient of respect and will approach people with it. However, I no more hold unto it as I used to, and have come to understand the anger and the rage.
After I came out, I was ready to answer questions and considered it very important to do so in order to fight prejudices. Patience and softness, in my mind, were key. And I remember having a serious discussion with another activist who steadfastly held unto the belief that sometimes we need to «disturb» (déranger) people out of their complacency. Sometimes there is room for anger. I strongly disagreed with her. I was convinced of the countrary, that is that people will open their minds only if we are soft in our approaches and refrain from expressing anger.
When I started to grapple with antiracism, I was shocked out of my socks. There was anger directed by lots of LGBT POC at the mainstream white gay community for its racism and I remember feeling very defensive about it. First, I was in denial: I was convinced there was no such thing as racism in the gay community, that it was something of the past, and that they were making it up (you know, playing the «race card»). Second, I did not get the anger.
However, I had enough good faith that I wanted to keep listening until my discomfort was resolved. For instance I once quipped, at a worshop where I was hearing those harsh critics: «What is it that the mainstream gay community can do?». And I clearly, up to this day, remember one woman's answer: «Read books, we don't need to tell you everything». Being the enthousiastic lesbian101 teacher, I was taken aback. I just could not get it.