Everything in Progress…
Everyday, I devote many hours and quite a bit of energy towards understanding arguments, ideas, and beliefs I don’t agree with. Perspective is really important to me, and by that, I mean — if I see a problem, I want to know why I think it’s a problem, I want to know the motivation behind the problem, I want to know what happens if the problem continues, and I want to know who I have to talk to and what mountains I have to climb to work toward a fix for the problem.
I’m very vocal on social media, and maybe some readers here have seen me make connections they found outlandish. Actually, strike the maybe. I’m sure at least one person reading this has thought to themselves, “There’s just no way that the actions of Julian Assange (releasing the names of rape victims) can have roots in white or male privilege. You just need a reason for it to be wrong.”
Every time I browse my feed on facebook, I am inundated with heartwarming videos and/or news stories about people who were born into struggle, in one way or another, who rise above and succeed. These are the times I’m confronted with the worst kind of irony — the type that even Alanis could never justify. Because the people who post these stories, inevitably with some half-hearted plea to “focus on the positive,” are the same folks who will deny the existence of privilege. These are the people who, when asked to consider their privilege, will instead point out all of the obstacles they’ve overcome. LISTEN HERE: everyone has obstacles. Everyone. But if you’re posting about people born into struggle, people who eventually overcome that struggle to succeed… You already know you have privilege. You wouldn’t be moved by these stories if they sounded like your own. Your privilege lies in the absence of the struggles of your social media heroes.
Here’s the thing. This whole post has been a qualifier. I’ve been leading up to the thing I dread having to say: As much compassion and patience as I try to have — right now, I am part of a distinctly “us vs them” mentality. Because I have cut people out of my life for being guilty of having an exclusive sense of justice. I have cut ties for reasons that probably seem inconsequential at best to observers. But I have a hard time forgiving people who I know have a strong sense of justice and choose to ignore the parts of justice that make them uncomfortable.
I read that paragraph about 27 times. I can say with absolute certainty that I highlighted the whole thing 5 times with the intention of deleting it and starting over. But I think it’s better to leave it. I’m going to leave it as is, and add the translation of what it actually means, as a demonstration. The meaning of that paragraph is: our society is rife with oppression, and chances are, if you’re reading this, you already knew that. And so, dear reader, if you are aware of the various oppressions which dictate our culture, and you choose to ignore or deny any one of them… Fuck you. It’s that simple.
It’s simple because, if you’ve ever spoken up about oppression, you most likely remember the tactics you were met with. The “you’re too sensitive”s. The “lighten up”s. The “lolz, is it that time of the month?”s. If you’re comfortable with the idea that you have your one cause, and other subgroups of people hearing those arguments you hate should fight their own battles — we do not belong in each other’s lives. I am more than ready to donate time, energy, and words to help educate those who are blind to injustice — but if you are only ready to fight for justice on behalf of those who look/talk/think/speak/pray like you, we are, in fact, at odds.
Please read this as you would a confession, an admission of guilt — I am full of problematic notions. I am full of conflicting values, and even though I’m working towards synchronicity, I make no guarantee I will arrive there. I have more privilege than I have time to acknowledge, and I have a hard time creating priorities that represent all of my feelings. I recognize that appropriation is fucking awful, but I struggle to avoid it during interpersonal interactions, because sometimes it’s easier to play off of a peer’s sense of humor than to be my fully formed self.