Psssst. White girls, over here. *waves*
Today is International Women’s Day, so come sit with me and let us talk about how we can stop centering ourselves in movements and spaces that are supposed to be progressive and inclusive.
Let’s start by acknowledging that we live in a society where, as white women, our voices and identities are given substantially more privilege and attention. Trust me; I know how much you want to help and make a difference. I do, too! But to do that, we must re-evaluate how we move in the world.
Black, Brown, and Indigenous women have been telling us for years – with increasing volume – that we have a problem with taking up too much space and not listening to them about their lived realities. We tend to have a fixed idea about ‘the right way’ to solve problems, and we carry that into our well-meaning engagement with women who haven’t had the same opportunities or access to power that we have. But having privilege doesn’t mean we’re more qualified to fix things. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Having privilege means we’re unable to see the many details of injustice that impact women in the world.
So, I thought I’d share some ideas for how we can do better. If we really care about the condition of all women (not just the ones who look and sound like us), there are some things we’re going to have to change.
First, let’s sit with the idea that we don’t need to be in charge. Our voice doesn’t need to be the loudest, nor do we need to be the face of any women’s movement. Statistically, we are a global minority. Why the hell should we be representing feminism? Instead, why not use whatever platforms we have to amplify women of color and promote their leadership? Share the work, stories, and achievements of Black, Indigenous, and other women of color and amplify their businesses, art, and writing on social media and in IRL conversations with other white women.
We can also prioritize shutting the fuck up, listening, and learning. Attend events and read materials that focus on intersectional feminism and the unique struggles faced by marginalized women. Find BIPOC women to follow online (and offline) and engage with activists and organizations that advocate for gender and racial equity. It’s important to note here that it’s not the job of BIPOC activists to answer basic questions and teach us how to align with intersectional feminism. We have access to all that information. Some of it is free, and some will require an investment. But we’re worth investing in, right?
One of the most significant issues I’ve seen with white women in intersectional feminist spaces is that our work often lacks material analysis. We whites tend to enjoy staying in the theoretical and discussing history and shit, pontificating about the way things should be. Meanwhile, BIPOC women continue to struggle disproportionately in very real ways with a lack of access to essential services and support. We must put our money where our mouth is – and for the love of all that is holy – stop donating to organizations that are unable to show in concrete terms how they are positively impacting the lives of BIPOC women. Instead, donate to orgs led by – and serving – women of color, including reproductive justice funds, mutual aid groups, and educational initiatives.
Another thing we can do is use our privilege to advocate – at work, school, and in social institutions – for policies and initiatives that promote equity, such as equal pay, parental leave, and anti-racism efforts. Be careful, though. The white savior complex is real. Our job isn’t to save BIPOC women; it’s to fight for the right for their voices to be heard.
Finally, when we are in spaces with BIPOC women, it’s good and right to participate in the conversation. But if the conversations are about experiences that are not ours, we need to listen and reflect. I’ve witnessed some pretty egregious co-opting of BIPOC struggles by white women, adding insult to injury. Leave the main character energy at home. And, though it really shouldn’t need to be said, I fear that it does: engage with BIPOC women’s traditions respectfully and avoid tokenizing or commodifying the practices of other cultures.
Finally, we can talk to other white women and help them understand where we fit in. We can share our learning and give each other space to wrestle with our privilege and its current and historical implications. We can share our contributions with one another instead of trumpeting it to the world and expecting BIPOC folks to hand us a cookie for finally ‘getting it.’ We can offer one another correction and reproof, calling one another in, helping one another with a genuine desire to improve rather than looking for opportunities to win social media points by calling out other white women and shaming them for their ignorance.
I’ve spent a lot of time around BIPOC people in the last few decades, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes and said a lot of stupid things. Got me lil fee-fees hurt and enjoyed some self-pity. I want to acknowledge the love and patience of Black, Brown and Indigenous women who have cared enough about me to correct me when I’ve said or done things out of ignorance. We’re all learning, all the time. I’ll be unlearning white supremacy for the rest of my life. That’s the nature of who I am and the world I was born into. But it’s a commitment worth making, and I kindly invite you to join me.