Black Feminist Meditation #1: I Am Choosing to be Radical

Alex Campo
The Global Black Feminist Politics Blog
4 min readOct 21, 2021

At the behest of many of my close friends, I decided to take an Introduction to Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies course during the second semester of my first year in college. One year prior, I had envisioned myself majoring in political science and pursuing a pre-med pathway, a somewhat secure academic trajectory that would allow me to explore my interest in politics and current events while aiming to enter the medical field so I might achieve the “American Dream” and lift my parents out of the mediocrity that permeated their lives in the U.S. Throughout my first year of college, though, I quickly became disillusioned with my country’s sociopolitical system, and I found myself increasingly interested in examining the social, economic, and political structures and institutions that defined the drastically different ways in which different social groups lived in and navigated the world. After taking specific courses at my college directed at analyzing ways of thinking about the world that determined ways of being in the world, I committed myself to learning about the foundations of these systems and ways to begin undoing them.

Clockwise: Flowery Branch, GA, my hometown; Myself with my father in Colombia; Oxford College of Emory University; Myself with my mother

Intro to WGSS was the first time in my life that I intentionally dedicated myself to learning how to name the concepts and systems that influenced people’s identities and methods of traversing and occupying space. I fell in love with the brilliant feminist and queer authors and artists whose eloquently articulated writings and performances brought to life the ideas that I had long been wanting and struggling to name. I also became fascinated with understanding my own family’s experiences as well as those of the people around me, especially those of the people I’d never thought to interact with. These were mostly the poor people of color I encountered in my community whom I avoided interacting with for fear of disturbing my “proper” assimilation into “American culture.” As I learned more, the emotion I felt most strongly guiding my academic curiosity was anger (which Audre Lorde had taught me could be useful). I was angry with the privilege and power possessed by my mediocre white business major peers, and I was angry that the people who do the most to maintain the wellness of society were the ones who get the least in return. I let this anger carry me forward and drive my intentionality and alignment toward advocacy.

Left to right: Charlene Carruthers, C. Riley Snorton, Nikol G. Alexander-Floyd

Just as I intentionally registered for Intro to WGSS, my enrollment in Global Black Feminist Politics was very deliberate. After only one month, I’ve engaged with Black feminist writers and theorists who have helped me understand the value of exploring, empowering, and uplifting marginalized identities. I think Charlene Carruthers best described the value of Black feminisms in saying “the Black feminist movement (and the fruit of its labor) taught me to understand the value of politics connected to lived experiences” (Carruthers, Unapologetic: A Black, Queer, and Feminist Mandate for
Radical Movements
). For my entire life, I was only aware of Black women’s oppression and lived experiences only through carefully curated and inoffensive euphemistic media portrayals, but since coming to understand the idea of “controlling images” and the ways in which Black women’s life chances have been thoroughly limited by these socially imposed personae, I’ve had to face severe gaps in my knowledge about a vital and vibrant — but largely ignored — social group. Nikol G. Alexander Floyd expressed this beautifully for me in explaining “the paradox of Black women’s hypervisibility and centrality to politics, on the one hand, and Black women’s invisibility or ‘absented presence,’ on the other” (Alexander-Floyd, Black Women in Politics: Demanding Citizenship, Challenging Power, and Seeking Justice). It’s been very important for me to unpack the origins of this invisibility by learning about C. Riley Snorton’s conceptions of “thinginess,” fungibility, and Black women’s reduction to flesh in the not-so-distant past (Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity).

“The Black feminist movement (and the fruit of its labor) taught me to understand the value of politics connected to lived experiences” — Charlene Carruthers

Confronting these topics directly and investigating them comprehensively has exposed the gaps in my education, but I’ve resolved to filling them as best I can by engaging with Black feminist critical thought from intellectuals across the world to decolonize my thinking. I’m doing my best to actively embrace an identity politic that centers my own identities and experiences as well as the experiences and opinions of those who have been most marginalized by the matrix of domination while holding close to my heart Charlene Carruthers’ reminder that “identity doesn’t dictate behavior or values. We learn values and choose political commitments . . . Being radical is a choice, and it takes work” (Carruthers). As I continue in my Black feminist scholarship, I am choosing to be radical, I am embracing my anger, and I am currently preparing myself for the work that entails.

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