Kendrick and the Media
Struggles of call-outs and discrimination in troubling media times. (This story has been edited since publication as the result of a necessary call-in*)
Being called out* can really hurt. I have learned and am learning this from my years in activism**. Last week Kendrick Lamar was called out for inviting a white female fan on stage, and then calling her out for singing the N-word. In the days that followed I called out Danish media for not calling out a racist theatre, and for calling out Kendrick. I was then called out for doing this call-out from my privileged position rather than creating space for others. So where does this leave us? With a lot of necessary call-outs — lets try to navigate (and learn, perhaps).
I was called out. This happens to me often — it is a part of academic critique (often wrapped in discrete critical questions) and part of activist practice (often less convoluted, in my experience). I am not afraid of being called out: even though it often hurts, usually call-outs teach me to think more critically about my own practices — this time was no exception. I will get to the specificities of my call-out in a bit.
First, I start with the Kendrick example:
The production and consumption of Kendrick
I didn’t want to discuss the Kendrick story. I was already overcome with battle fatigue (as I wrote about in my last post). Why are we still discussing whether or not white people can use the N-word?
But in the same day I came across two different news-outlets and their two different treatments of the story, and they made me think. Many people who are more well-equipped to talk about this and smarter than me have already said what needed saying on the story (read this or this for examples). So I will focus on what I actually specialize in: the media production and treatment of race(/ism/ialization) in Denmark.
First I came across this headline in national Danish newspaper, Politiken:
I was immediately struck by the qualifier opening the header: “He had invited her on stage himself”. In journalism and rhetorics classes for my undergraduate and MA I remember learning to put the most important information first in journalism. But is the most important information here that a white woman chose to sing the N-word, or that Lamar invited her on stage? By choosing to open the header with the latter — an important strategic choice was made, to emphasize Lamar’s decision as the root of the issue and to position him as culprit and her as victim. This is not neutral framing, and while many journalistic frames aren’t, they are often assumed to be by readers.
This is also where the meta-information in the articles, and the context, becomes important. Because this piece was not framed as an opinion-piece but as reporting on music, and the author was not a blogger or op-ed writer, but a journalist, and was qualified with that title in the subheader.
But is it necessarily better when framed as an opinion piece? The other piece I initially came across was this one from The Guardian:
At first I was relieved; at least the UK newspaper had recognized that if this was to be debated, it should not be veiled as journalism, but be clearly positioned as opinion. But hold on — by allowing it to be debated on their platform, are they also assuming the premise; that this is up for debate?
As a media- and film-scholar I can’t help but immediately want to ask questions like:
- How does framing and context serve to (de)legitimize positions, opinions and discussions?
- What does it mean when something is framed as an opinion piece rather than journalism?
- What has clickbait done for titles of web-articles? (Is the Danish header baiting us?)
Context is Key
As the above examples show, context is key. Context here tells us what is deemed newsworthy and why. Because news is curated and limited information about a topic, the way it is presented and the context in which it is consumed are key to what the news does. When the Kendrick Lamar story is treated as an opinion piece, it is inferred that this question is up for debate, that it is up for debate by white people and that the white woman’s position can have the final say here, in defending (and maybe even saving) Lamar.
When the white male journalist is tasked with reporting this story in the Danish newspaper, it is inferred that he is capable of doing so from a neutral position, although the header might suggest otherwise, as shown above.
However, who speaks on something is not everything — the consumption-context, framing and type of media matters as well. Take for instance the series of stories in Danish media about rapes in India (this one was one of the most recent). There have been a lot of stories about rapes and violence in India, and I cant help but wonder what it does, when narratives of a sexist India become top news in Denmark. If that is the only, or even most frequent, news we get about India, will it confirm our biases of violent “Other Men”, regardless of whether or not it is true? (Danish media scholar and Professor Rikke Andreassen wrote extensively about this stereotype/trope in her dissertation and later work.)
Is it possible that Danish audiences and media have an interest in reproducing and consuming narratives of violence in other countries? And what do these stories do? It has me thinking of bell hooks’ writings on consumption of otherness (read her essay on Eating the Other or see one of her many talks on youtube), and about Edward Said’s work on Orientalism.
“[I]ndeed it can be argued that the major component in European culture is precisely what made that culture hegemonic both in and outside Europe: the idea of European identity as a superior one in comparison with all the non-European peoples and cultures.”
― Edward W. Said, Orientalism
Following Said’s line of thought, what the media does, when centering on stories of gender-violence in India for the Danish audiences, is co-construct and reconstitute an assymmetrical relationship between “the West and the rest”. It makes me wonder why we have been hearing about rape, but have not heard about rape statistics on a global scale.
I am not a statistician, but a quick mini-search showed that in 2010 India would figure high in the rape-ratings only when sorted by incidents, rather than rate (which makes sense since there are more people in India than in all of the European countries, combined). However, if the data was sorted by rates (how many reported rapes per 100.000 population) India is not even in the highest 50 countries, and countries like the USA, Norway and Sweden figure in top 20. This is just a quick play with data from wikipedia.
Of course rape-statistics are never precise because of the immense under-reporting. I co-wrote a piece in a Danish national newspaper last year about how rape statistics in are skewed and used to stereotype and profile non-white men in Denmark.
Power and Positionality
But back to the call-outs. So we have talked about Kendrick being called out for calling out his fan. But then what happened? The Kendrick-story combined with the story about a racist play in Copenhagen, which used the N-word and blackface made Danish headlines all week. Being back in New York I did not follow the debate closely, but spoke to other activists and colleagues in the field of critical race studies in Denmark to strategize about media, publication and writing on the topic. For fear of being mis-quoted or edited I chose to write about the play in my last blog-post, where I had full control.
The post was the most personal one I had written yet, because the play and it’s use of the N-word directly (mis-)quoted work(s) I had co-authored and thematized my activism. And a lot of people read it. More people than have read any of my other blog-posts, combined. One of these people was a journalist from national Danish newspaper, Politiken.
He asked me for a comment based on my blog and scholarship, which would be featured among multiple other comments. I ensured that I would have full rights to see the comment (and retract it) before it was printed. He agreed. I did not ask who else would be commenting, but (wrongly) assumed that the journalist would include black voices. That was a mistake on my part: even though a vox-pop with two Women of Color (WOC) experts is a rarity in Danish newspapers, the below result is still problematic:
Being a media-scholar I had made a judgement based on context. In the Danish context, I knew my position as an “expert-source” (“ekspert-kilde” in Danish ***) was likely to be replaced by someone who was not, like me, a WOC. Unfortunately for Denmark, very few scholars on race and arts inhabit the lived experience of being racialized as well. (There is extensive scholarship in how lived experience and minoritized perspectives can contribute to research in fields of race, class and gender.) I knew I was one of only a couple to have seen the play.
This put me in yet another one of those difficult catch-22-situations, I had described in my last blog-post:
- If I said something, I would risk acknowledging the play and the premise of the article. And, as it turns out, because I said something I might have been used as an excuse for not including more black voices, since I am a WOC myself (and by Danish logics the two often equate).
- If I said nothing, I would be failing to utilize my academic knowledge in the field as one of very few POC experts on this type of racism in the context of Danish art. I would not be resisting the violence, which was directly aimed at me both figuratively (as my work in the decolonial journal marronage was quoted in the play and used as premise for the racist violence) and literally (I had a bananapeel thrown at me during the play — a reminder of the many times these specific forms of racialization had been used to harm me and my family as i grew up in Denmark).
I chose to give a comment. I found it necessary to comment on a play that so directly aimed it’s violent racism at the activism I took part in. The play had directly critiqued and quoted the decolonial journal I had co-edited and thematized the anti-discrimination student organization I had been the head of last year (FRONT). But was it the right choice?
This is where the Danish context again becomes key. In the Danish context, I know that I inhabit a rare position. I do not inhabit the same position in most of the rest of the world. I am intimately familiar with (and trained in) the Danish context for racism. I cannot say the same for any other place, even though I am part American and part Indian and live in the US at the moment.
In the Danish context, I feel comfortable talking as a researcher about this word and these techniques, that I have studied for years. I probably wouldn’t feel I was the right person, or even a relevant person, to comment on this type of racism anywhere else in the world.
Because of the context of this article, I chose to speak. But because of the journalists choice not to include black voices (and my failure to ensure that he did so), the article ended up contributing to erasure anyway.
I should have asked the journalist who else would be featured. I would likely have said no, knowing what I know now. I took for granted that an article like this would feature black voices and I took for granted that my answer (refusing to answer the ridiculous question, I instead asked why people find it necessary to “hold on to reproducing this word”) would show clearly that this is not up for debate. I thought I was being strategic and moving the conversation away from whether or not it is OK, to Why do white privileged people even feel the need?
Instead, my participation caused pain, and positioned me as one of the privileged people who felt the need. Even by participating I legitimized the question, premise, and article as valid.
Being Called Out
I was called out for this on a Danish social media site.
And wow — that call out hurt. Not only because I had not known what I had become part of before it was too late, but also because I believed that in a Danish context, I might have something to contribute to this conversation.
After the call-out I was frustrated and angry. Maybe it was remembering the feeling of disempowerment I had felt when colleagues with more power than me choose to speak on/evaluate my experiences of discrimination. One of the people to call me out had chosen to speak on my experiences as well, assuming from my picture that I pass for white in Denmark — which might have triggered my need to self-define or explain my experiences of racism.
From call-out to call-in
In order to learn from this, rather than getting stuck in a defensive space, I staged a couple of call-ins (basically intimate call-outs - more on these momentarily) with friends (who also happen to be colleagues of mine) who I could trust to give me honest feedback. I ensured that they were comfortable and had the time and energy for it. I talked to them about the potential emotional labour they might endure even talking about it. They agreed to read, discuss and share their honest views regardless.
We discussed the pain associated with feeling betrayed and excluded from forums to discuss forms of racism which one is intimately familiar with.
But we also discussed the aspects of that pain that I might not fully understand, because I do not always, inescapably embody the word or its historicity. We discussed the limitations of viewing this as a matter of fluidity between being a POC and/or being black. We discussed academic privilege, and how sometimes, even if what you have to say is valuable — your silence can be more valuable.
I learned from these discussions. Not only did I learn that my professional skillset needs to be finetuned and put into practice all the time, which means thinking of representation also when I get asked to perform tasks that are part of my work. I learned that there are times my silence would be louder than my words. But more importantly I learned how much one can gain from call-ins with people who are willing to hear you out, but also willing to have patience when you are trying to understand something that is slippery — and to give you their opinion with honesty and without judgement (or at least withholding judgement for a moment).
That is the beauty of call-outs, and perhaps more so with call-ins. They hurt — they sting. And sometimes you resist them. However, if you are willing to try to stay in the moment, feel the humiliation and hear those who are calling you out out, you might actually learn something. Even if you don’t initially learn anything or understand everything.
I am still learning. I am still navigating my privilege, my disadvantages, my scholarly position and the specificities to the Danish context I grew up in. But even if I am not done learning — and even if I am not done feeling hurt — or done apologizing to those I have hurt, the silver lining is this: I much better understand the many positions I put people in with my call-outs, and I will try to get better at calling out constructively and taking call-outs constructively.
In the future I will know to ask for the full context of an article before participating. In the future I will be more careful with which platforms I speak from, and how, when and on what. I began this by calling out the journalist.
Call-out culture
If you want to think critically about call-outs, these 6 Signs Your Call-Out Isn’t Actually About Accountability from The Body Is Not An Apology are a great place to start:
“1. You’re Not Focused on the Outcome”
“2. You’re Not Choosing Your Battles Based on What’s Best for the Community Involved”
“3. You’re Using the Same Strategy for Every Situation”
“4. You’re Centering Yourself on Behalf of Another Group”
“5. You’re Engaging in Respectability Politics to Police Other People’s Behavior”
“6. You’re Trying to Force Someone to Be Accountable”
If we take a closer look at the 6 challenges highlighted above, it is clear, that the one I was called-out for “breaking” was number 4. Centering myself on behalf of another group; The challenge occurs, when to those calling me out, I am not part of a group (I am not black) whereas from my perspective, I was being called on as representative of a different group all together (WOC “experts” who do research on Danish Racism in art and are familiar with the play and this particular form of violence). This takes us back to key discussions of embodied knowledge versus learned knowledge, and I will be more careful with assuming that I can speak for both (or either) in the future.
In the meantime, a friend and colleague recently recommended me this text from Black Girl Dangerous about call-ins. A less toxic alternative, where activists and scholars can handle call-outs in more safe and intimate spaces. Maybe it is time for Danish activists and scholars to practice more calling-in than calling out?
Notes:
*being called out (/call-out) =~ being told(/telling someone) that a thing you (/they) have said or done is harmful and/or reproduces oppression. There is much critical work on call-out culture (how we use call-outs to either better communities or to police/harm other members of our communities). Click here for a good discussion of how these cultures can harm or help.
**I have learned much more from activism, and perhaps even more than I have from academia, but that is another story for another day.
*** Someone with an academic and professional background in the particular field in question, in this case Danish Racism.
Sources:
Andreassen, Rikke. Der er et yndigt land. Medier, minoriteter og danskhed. Tiderne skifter, 2007.
hooks, bell. “Eating the other” in Black looks: Race and representation. South East Press, 1992.
Mainsah, Henry, and Lin Prøitz. “Two journeys into research on difference in a Nordic context: a collaborative auto-ethnography.” Affectivity and Race: Studies from Nordic Contexts. Abingdon: Routledge (2015): 169–186.
Said, Edward W. “Orientalism: western conceptions of the Orient. 1978.” Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin (1995).
Said, Edward W. “Orientalism reconsidered.” Race & Class 27.2 (1985): 1–15.
