Who is Allowed to Heal?
The concept of using theory as a way to heal has always been an interesting concept to me, in theory (ha!). However, in practice it has been a lot more difficult than I, or even most people would like to admit. A big issue I have with it is that there have been few pieces I could connect with because of how inaccessible the language is. Especially in the current political climate where calls to action can result in events like the Women’s March whose numbers are still under debate (but the general consensus? Massive), it’s important that any and all information be accessible to the public.
Theory and academic texts have the potential to be tools of education and healing. However, the majority of material available makes itself inaccessible when it’s written in a way that even most college students find difficult to navigate. Once you create material that cuts off the general public from the information you’re trying to share, you’ve denied people to access to a deeper understanding of themselves and others.
The combined frustration and disappointment you feel when you realize the content in an article or journal wasn’t written for someone like you isn’t a great feeling. You open pieces hoping for answers, hoping to find connections with people who share pieces of your identity, but instead are turned away at the door. Even if you manage to get past the introductory passages, the jargon and walls of repetitive long winded texts serve as reminders that the author wants their work to be privileged information. To me, it reads, if you can’t understand this without the help of Google and a thesaurus? This isn’t for you.
Like any closeted high school graduate, I came to college hoping to find some answers about my own identity. And while I wasn’t expecting a full blown epiphany, it’s three years later and one of the only thing that’s changed is that I’m not in the closet.
While there are a few pieces that I’ve enjoyed reading and analyzing (in particular Borderlands/La Frontera by Gloria Anzaldúa), most of the pieces I’ve read throughout my three years as a Gender & Sexuality major feel like they weren’t made for me, or even people like me. Instead of answers its created more self doubt. I find myself asking, “Do I belong here? Are these spaces for people like me?”. People capable of writing theory need to ensure that their readers don’t feel unwelcome stepping into their spaces.
Most activists and scholars advocate for solidarity however, do they look at their work and ask themselves, “Have I made this accessible to the masses?” If the answer to this is a resounding no? It’s time to go back to the drawing board and find ways of delivering information in such a way that invites others to engage instead of intimidating and shutting them out. Theory, especially feminist theories should encourage building solidarity, empowerment, and the exchanging of information. My mother and I should be able to discuss theory at the dinner table in between family gossip without a deep understanding of cold, clinical jargon. Although scholars have the risk of their work being “de-legitimized in academic settings” if they write in a way that is “accessible to a broad reading public”, we have to ask ourselves, why?
Why is a piece looked down upon if it can be understood by those without a college or even high school degree? Why have the institutions above us decided that those of us incapable of deciphering walls of text on a first read don’t deserve information? Many of us are heavily affected by the current administration have the right to find understandable, informative material without any gatekeeping or hierarchy that decides who deserves the to access the information.
