Jill: I’m answering your very long comment with an even longer comment.

 

Let me clarify that I don’t speak for all people of color. Others have said things similar to what I’m saying (and much better = BFP) while others will disagree. I want to maintain a vibe of being inclusive, while recognizing the irony that at times white feminists are neither inclusive nor welcoming.

 

I appreciate your willingness to put yourself out there, your curiosity, and understanding that some things we say might cause others to be defensive. Please know that I read your comment and responded in that same spirit. I tried not to take anything you wrote personally, and hope you do the same. I’ll go through your points by number, as you did.

 

1. I don’t particularly like labels either, but identifying the obvious, such as being a woman of color or white feminist should not be dismissed as “labeling.” I would like nothing more than to see women of all backgrounds represented and respected as equals. But that’s simply not the reality – race and class are very real divisions, and they are divisions that white feminists leading the movement have helped maintain and perpetuate. For that reason, it is ultimately their responsibility to bridge those divides. Again, I’d like to ditch the labels too, but this is the reality, and it’s not of my making. The solution is not to use labels less or more, but to address the underlying issues.

 

If we are going to “galvanize the dormant,” as you wrote, then we must start by openly and honestly discussing our differences (including culture and societal norms), even when it’s uncomfortable. I have to be able to point out a glaringly obvious fact without it being considered counterproductive.

 

I understand the importance for people to feel safe and comfortable in order to participate. Yet, I’ve rarely been afforded the same privilege. I’d love to ask media outlets, organizations, elected officials and corporations to develop new approaches to include me as a leader, and create new languages and systems that are not hostile to my community and environment. But I don’t have that privilege or that power, and anyway I’m not going to beg anyone to include me. Instead, I’m working on building our own institutions. Some people do have that privilege and power, however. Jill, I encourage you to examine what kind of power you have, and challenge you to use that power to start the conversation, to propose a new dialogue; to create a diverse panel, group, or media alternative and invite me (and others) to lead it with you. Make WOC/POC, transgender, queer, disabled, immigrant, fat, and gay communities the basis of your programming. Do the research, listen, and learn!

 

2. I think we all come to feminism in our own way, and like most of us, I was new to the feminist movement at one time. I also never had women’s studies courses, nor a firm grasp of politics or history for that matter, but I also didn’t have the luxury of a “good” education (I say luxury because U.S. education is clearly designed and structured for the wealthy). 

 

I didn’t always know how to express this, and felt that I lacked the necessary understanding of the issues – beyond my own experiences – to stand up. I too fell into the trap of wanting others to teach me, but getting involved required me to do some serious research (which still continues) and be involved in communities (Helen, tiona, Michelle, Serenity, etc.) I was unfamiliar  with. In other words, the change had to first come from me! I couldn’t approach people in different communities and demand they make me feel comfortable, or insist they not use language I didn’t understand. Being an advocate for and a participant in a movement requires looking beyond your own small box (that includes me).

 

To be honest, I’m surprised you’ve never thought about this before, and apparently you never had to. It’s a fair question to ask how you missed the issues that WOC/POC have to face and battle, being as involved as you are. I would suggest that you missed it because you can miss it – you have the privilege of not having to pay attention.

 

I’m not interested in making you feel guilty. That does nothing beyond damaging potential alliances. But if I’m being asked to teach, we have to start from the point of admitting privilege. This is not the same thing as admitting guilt, although many confuse the two. We have to identify it, accept it, and use it to improve our own lives as well as the lives of others. For example, I have certain privileges my grandmother, my aunts, and a large portion of my community lack. Why would I pretend it doesn’t exist? What does that accomplish other than exacerbating my own ignorance?

 

3. I understand that different people came to WAM for different reasons, and I’ve read many pieces reflecting this diversity. I don’t deny anyone their rights to come with their own interests and perspectives, but that will never stop me from saying what I think, nor are they the reasons I wrote the WAM! recap.

 

4. I think it’s terrific that you want to learn from different people and push yourself. I’m not sure what you mean by “too strong an identity in any one direction could diminish my attraction to WAM.” First, I never suggested pushing WAM in one direction. My hope was that a conference like WAM might be more inclusive, more democratic, and more respectful of diversity. Second, as long as there isn’t a sign up that says “No ______ allowed!” what is stopping you from going in? Why do we assume that a panel with “women of color” in the title is only for women of color? If I’m waiting for someone to make me feel comfortable, I’ll never leave my small world. Hence, my participation in the WAM! Conference.

 

You were drawn to WAM! in part because of its media aspect. As people in media, we have a responsibility to look beyond so-called acceptable discourse and principles and tell the stories of the marginalized and dispossessed, to report on atrocities and wars, and give voice to the misunderstood and underrepresented – especially when it’s right in front of us.

 

Being a WOC isn’t a label for me, it is a mark of pride, something to be shared. I refuse to substitute that richness for the ease of a 15-second sound bite, or as a sacrifice for a movement that speaks of support yet asks me to tone it down. Or for people who say they want to come together if only I didn’t make them feel bad or uncomfortable. Jill, when you spoke with me did you feel uncomfortable? Was I unapproachable, did you feel you had to censor yourself? I hope the answer is no, but you have to understand that I (and others like me) have been made to feel exactly like this, now and historically, and are expected to just deal with it for the sake of the “movement.”

 

We have a tendency to critique countries with severe inequalities in class, gender, or wealth. But when those critiques are directed at us, when they come too close to the privileges we enjoy, we protest. “Stop being so angry,” we say. “It’s counterproductive.”

 

It’s ironic – the feminist movement has a history of making people uncomfortable, of pushing the limits, of heated debate and incensed discourse. We dissected and fought against male privilege. Why should we ignore white female privilege? Why is it different now that the tables are turned? Why was it acceptable for women to be confrontational and hold people accountable for their treatment of women, but it is unacceptable for me (and others) to confront white women and hold them accountable for their treatment of WOC/POC?

 

You felt comfortable coming to this blog and engaging in dialogue, I invite you to do so more often, and I also invite your peers and community. I hope you will go further and take the initiative—as I and many women of color have done with white feminists—to learn my language, engage my community and come to “our” conferences/workshops/panels (Allied Media Conference). If you can do that, I’ll meet you half way.