Assimilation or Revolution?

An open letter to my marginalized comrades, from a privileged revolutionary.

Dear marginalized comrades fighting for justice,

I am a white revolutionary living in the US. You may not know me personally, but I’ve stood next to you in the streets. I’ve marched next to you. I’ve faced down the police with you, and I’ve confronted white supremacists and bigots with you. I am not only down for revolutionary change, I insist on it. Not because I need it, not because it may make my material existence better, and not because I’m suffocating without it. But because the world needs to do better, much better. Because millions of human lives are sacrificed, abused, neglected, and brushed away like a speck of snow on a daily basis. Because we all deserve so much more, our families deserve so much more, our children deserve so much more, and our communities deserve so much more.

I am white, after all. I recognize the privilege in that. I’ve done things in my younger days that would’ve drastically derailed my life had I possessed darker skin. I am also a man. I recognize the privilege in that. I’ve never been objectified in public, have never been humiliated by appalling sexual advances, and have never been taught to base my self-worth in how many women want me. I am also cisgender. I’ve been privileged enough to be born with a body and sexual identity that suits me, and that doesn’t draw condescension, confusion, judgment, and constant questioning from others.

Despite these privileges, I still dream of revolution. I’ve dreamed of it for most of my life. I recognized the normalcy of injustice at a young age, and it’s always made me queasy. Oppression brings tears to my eyes. White supremacy enrages me. Male dominance and rape culture make me disgusted to be a man. Homophobia crushes my humanity. Don’t get me wrong, I feel no guilt. This is not about guilt. It’s about loving humanity and begging for it to do better. It’s about not wanting to see so many people stepped on and over. It’s about not wanting to be stepped on and over. I feel a deep yearning for justice, for a world where all people are respected and allowed the autonomy they deserve, a world where people’s insecurities don’t lead them to ravage others, a world where we’re all given due power over our own lives so we don’t have to seek empowerment through subjugation. I think this world is possible. As frustrating as resistance and justice work can be at times, I think we have the ball rolling. It’s been rolling for centuries. It may come to a halt for decades at a time, or even roll backwards for moments, but it is progressing forward. It may happen to be a 5-ton boulder rolling in muddy pastures, but it’s moving ever so slightly. And while there may not be many of us, we still feel compelled to push. This duty was handed to us through generations, and we will hand it to the next generation upon our passing.

Now to the purpose of this letter. We’ve run into a slight problem lately, and I feel compelled to call on my privilege to address it. I call on my privilege not because it allows me a platform (thought it may), but because it has allowed me to gain a perspective that you do not have. This perspective has been obstructed and stolen from you because of your skin color, your sex, your gender, or your sexual orientation. My privilege has not only allowed me access to a different lived experience, it’s also allowed me to determine whether that lived experience is worthy of fighting for. And I can tell you, unequivocally and without a single doubt, that it is NOT. It is not worth struggling for. It is not worth your blood in the streets, your sweat at work, or your tears at home. It’s fool’s gold. So, I ask you, please… I beg you, do not fall for this trap. Don’t get me wrong — white privilege has its benefits, male privilege has its benefits, and cisgender privilege has its benefits. But these benefits are limited. They are a slave to something bigger. They are neutralized at a certain level. They do not amount to any sense of real dignity, or freedom, or autonomy, or independence. They may serve as coping mechanisms for many, or superficial forms of esteem and power to my maladjusted white sisters and brothers, but they ultimately leave us all as powerless as we were before.

While I recognize your pain, and feel that its alleviation is so long overdue, and will always want what you decide you want — because, ultimately, it’s not my place to decide what’s good and what isn’t good for you — I hope that you will listen to my privileged advice this one time. White unity is a myth. It doesn’t transcend class lines. It barely transcends anything of significance. There is no secret club. White folks don’t wink at each other when crossing the street in opposite directions. It doesn’t amount to anything real. It doesn’t even begin to touch on any real sense of humanity. My white bosses have always looked at me as garbage. My white landlord looks at me and sees a lazy bum trying to skip rent. The white store clerk won’t look me in the eyes when I’m wearing a hoodie. The middle class white kids I went to school with called me a “dirtbag” and “piece of shit” because I wore hand-me-downs and couldn’t afford Jordans. My whiteness certainly gives me privileges within multi-racial working-poor milieus, but it is completely neutralized within all-white circles because I am, and always have been, poor. I am a class tool. In our class system, I’m at the bottom. Being a white, cisgender male gives me a cushioned bottom that is not available to you; but it’s still the bottom.

So, marginalized comrades, here’s my proposition. While we continue to fight for the basic levels of dignity and rights that you all deserve as human beings, let us take it a step further. Rather than fighting to open avenues of assimilation, let’s tear down this rotten system and build a new one. Rather than fighting to get you into positions of power, let’s eradicate those positions completely so that we are all empowered, at all times, without seeking consent from the powerful. Let’s make it so our empowerment comes from being powerless over others.

Assimilation is not a worthy goal. It is a trick. Having black bosses, landlords, bankers, politicians, and police officers may put you at ease, understandably; but if you’re nothing more than a working stiff barely squeezing by, they will never respect you. To them, you’re a source of income. The fact that you share the same skin color will not matter in material terms. Because the system doesn’t respect you. And it doesn’t respect me either. They will see you as nuisance, a threat, a lazy mooch, a vagrant- exactly how they see me now. Barack Obama was a symbolic victory indeed, a black face assuming the highest office in the land, a source of self-esteem for black people the world over. Hillary Clinton may prove to have the same effect for women. But they are still a part of the few. They are cogs in the power machine. We remain together as the many. We are beholden to that machine; it controls every aspect of our existence.

I hope you read this and consider my proposal. If you’re hesitant or skeptical, you should be. Poor white folks like me have stabbed you in the back for centuries. Like mindless pawns, we bought into white supremacy; because we thought it was the only place to find any semblance of power in an utterly powerless existence. Like cows running to the trough, we ran to the master’s bell, trampling you in the process, only to find ourselves trampled in the end. If you read this and still want to focus on putting black faces — or women, or transgenders — in powerful places, I’ll help you do that. If you still strive to create more black bosses and landlords, I’ll work with you in doing that. If you want to celebrate black success in the form of wealthy celebrities, I’ll celebrate with you. But please do not call me an “ally.” I realized long ago that your fight truly is my fight. Not in a symbolic way, but in a material way. Your dignity is rooted in my own. Your injustice is ultimately mine. Because a world littered with injustices will inevitably come crashing down on all who partake in it. So, whatever you decide, I’m with you. Just please know this: once we’ve successfully assimilated you into the system, after decades of hard struggles, my marginalized comrades; once we have women CEOs controlling the corporate agenda, and black politicians representing at the G8, and transgender soldiers fighting the imperial wars, and LGBT folks influencing pop culture and serving as role models, we’ll still have a long battle ahead of us. Because we’ll still be struggling in this system. We’ll still be at the bottom. We’ll still be trying to figure out ways to pay our rent, put food in our kids’ mouths, find jobs that pay anything, and housing that we can afford without sacrificing heat or clothing or food. We’ll still be searching for our collective dignity as human beings.

Assimilation or revolution? That is the choice laid before you in this moment. My privilege has allowed me to partake in this system — the very system that has dehumanized you, oppressed you, and relegated you to the sidelines. I’ve been in the game — maybe not in a starting role, or even with any playing time, but I’ve been on the field. Assimilation, when achieved, will allow you the same opportunity. You will finally be allowed off the sidelines and onto the field. At that moment, reality will hit you like a truck. It is not all that it’s cracked up to be. The system, even from a socially privileged perspective, is rotten. Your disappointment is inevitable. Please, comrades, choose revolution.