“If I participate, knowingly or otherwise, in my sister’s oppression and she calls me on it, to answer her anger with my own only blankets the substance of our exchange with reaction. It wastes energy. And yes, it is very difficult to stand still and to listen to another woman’s voice delineate an agony I do not share, or one to which I myself have contributed.”
― Audre Lorde
Although Audre Lorde is writing about issues pertaining to women and feminism, her experience likely resonates with many oppressed people and communities. As marginalized groups and individuals, we advocate for inclusivity, progress, and validation of all experiences. The Colorado College Butler Center for Diversity & Inclusion and most, if not all, affiliated groups specifically strive for a goal of inclusivity.
However, our current behaviors have not always created safe spaces for dialogue on identity, marginalization, and acceptance. Although it may be easier for those who are affected by only one oppressed identity marker, such as gender, to ignore intersectionality and the complexity of identity politics, we need to acknowledge the destruction and discrimination that a narrow definition of oppression creates even within our own groups. Safe, inclusive spaces are not unattainable, and we should look to organizations and communities who achieve this as models of the values we claim.
For instance, during the 2015 National Conference on LGBT Equality, a group of trans-activists stormed the stage during the opening plenary to bring awareness to the systemic violence against trans-women.
They were not policed, escorted off stage, or shushed. Their protest was lauded as an appropriate and justified depiction of lived experiences. Their experiences were validated, valued, and welcomed.
A space in which intersectional theory and praxis is celebrated and experiences are legitimized has not yet been actualized in some marginalized communities at Colorado College. Issues affecting those who identify as women, people of mixed race, LGBTQIA+, etc. are far too infrequently acknowledged as separate concerns from those experienced by people and communities who have not encountered discrimination resulting from intersectionality.
In 1970, in response to racism within feminism, Frances Beale wrote, “We as Black women have got to deal with the problems that the Black masses deal with, for our problems in reality are one in the same.”
During the same year, in response to sexism within the Black Power and Civil Rights movements, Abbey Lincoln wrote, “Play hide and seek as long as you can and will, but your every rejection and abandonment of us is only a sorry testament of how thoroughly and carefully you have been blinded and brainwashed.”
Forty-five years later, there is still no ample space for Black feminists, or Black women in general, to articulate their existence as Black, women, and Black women on our campus. As we discuss the prospect of seeking justice for the Black men and boys who have lost their lives, we do not discuss justice for the Black cisgender and transgender women and girls who are victimized and brutalized.
We have brought our concerns to student leaders on campus and have received a dismal response. We are disgusted and hurt by the lack of empathy for those whose intersectional identities inhibit them from identifying with a marginalized group’s dominant experience of oppression.
We hope that in making our concerns public, student leaders will reflect upon the dynamics of their groups and re-evaluate their attempts at creating safe, equitable, and inclusive spaces.
Said Shiri Eisener, “It means understanding that different kinds of oppression are interlinked, and that one can’t liberate only one group without the others. It means acknowledging kyriarchy and intersectionality – the fact that along different axes, we’re all both oppressed and oppressors, privileged and disprivileged.”