Oppressed groups need to seek common ground

Doing it wrong: Covered up posters are another example of Bowdoin’s culture of thoughtlessness

Sometime in December, I was struck by a bulletin board covered with sheets of paper in David Saul Smith Union. On each paper was a poem, and I soon noticed that a black writer wrote each poem. Some of the poets featured were people I deeply admired, like Langston Hughes and Audre Lorde, and some of the poems were by writers I had never heard of.
This display of black poetry was deeply touching and seemed especially timely. Members of the community had just sponsored a vigil and a die-in at the dining halls in response to the non-indictment of Darren Wilson, the police officer who killed Michael Brown.
Coming back to Bowdoin after Winter Break, I was excited to see what forms of activism and solidarity the new semester would bring—especially since February is Black History Month. And it has been inspiring to see all the work that organizations like the African American Society have put into recent events. Another poster in Smith Union, showing minority victims of police brutality, has stood out as especially captivating and upfront.
While I am proud of the initiatives that Bowdoin has taken to confront racism, I was still disappointed to see what eventually happened to the poetry board in the Union. Walking by it several days ago, I noticed an assortment of posters for various events pinned over the poems.
My purpose is not to call out the individual people or groups who put up these new posters, or even say that they did anything wrong. But the image of that board, and the thought of covering those powerful words, struck me as thoughtless—even disrespectful.
The term microaggression has been increasingly brought up in progressive circles within the past couple of years. A microaggression refers to an action or statement that is unintentionally discriminatory.
A clear example would be showing something written in Chinese to a Korean person and asking them what it means—simultaneously applying a sameness to very different East Asian cultures and assuming cultural knowledge based on a person’s appearance.
This type of discrimination happens all the time. Microaggressions are often murky, and they can be a result of racism, ignorance or even good intentions.
I’m not trying to say definitively that putting posters over the poetry in the Union is a microaggression. But it does veer close to that. I think of all of the various ways this could make someone feel. I acknowledge that I am someone who appreciates and writes poetry, and I am very sensitive towards racial issues. But I am not advocating for an excessive sensitivity or atmosphere of extreme political correctness.
However, there is an indifference and self-centeredness required to cover up poetry by black writers right before and during Black History Month. It is completely possible that those who covered up the poetry did not even realize what it was or who the writers were. But it is also possible that they did.
Either way, what does it say about our community when people ignore something as beautiful as poetry, provided free and in such a convenient space? What does it say when we are close enough to read it and choose to hang up our own posters?
I know Bowdoin students are busy. I am not exempt from occasionally ignoring the intellect and beauty and entertainment that we are endlessly supplied with. But I am not guilty of carelessly putting up posters.
Putting up these posters exemplifies desensitization towards art and a selfish privileging of one’s immediate needs. There is without a doubt plenty of space in the Union and other school buildings to put up a poster. I realize these poems cannot stay up forever, but I think it is a bit soon to start obscuring them.
In a certain way, this is a Bowdoin version of the 5 Pointz building in Queens. 5 Pointz’s exterior was covered in intricate and stunning graffiti. It was completely demolished last year.
The building had been covered in graffiti for decades and there was a substantial public outcry when the news spread that it would be demolished. The situation brings up the same question of how long unsanctioned art should be displayed, and what its destruction means.
On another level, this bulletin board exemplifies how quickly and callously some students at Bowdoin go about their daily lives here.
There are so many presumptions and expectations that our lives are filled with—not to mention a seemingly endless list of responsibilities. This has created an atmosphere in which our decisions are not made as thoughtfully as they should be, where alternatives are not considered heavily enough.
Many students drink for hours instead of attending lectures or music recitals, work for an A instead of trying to gain a new perspective in a class, or pass by walls of poetry and art without giving them a second glance. I think poetry, art and the creativity and intellect with which we are privileged enough to be surrounded deserve more than that. I strongly encourage Bowdoin students to take advantage of the resources provided to them and give a longer look at the efforts made by their fellow students to engage them.

Doing it wrong: Speak out against injustices, even if it brings you criticism

I often find it easy to be outspoken because I deliberately surround myself with people who have a similar worldview to me. It is comfortable and safe to spend time with people who come from similar circumstances, whether that has to do with socioeconomic status or ethnicity or geography. Historically, that is what people do for one reason or another—they self-segregate.
For marginalized groups, it is sometimes necessary for that communal safe space to exist. But students hopefully go to school with the intention of learning about other people too. On the one hand, it is really beautiful to develop close bonds with people I might have otherwise never met. On the other hand, my eyes are occasionally opened in a disturbing way.
Once in a while, I will hear friends say or condone something that I consider problematic. The actions range in frequency or severity, but they are all troubling on some level. It could be that they throw around a gendered slur—“ironically” of course. Or they will condone the racist behavior of one of their friends. Or they will buy from a store that I consider to be exceptionally unethical. Or they will say something that demeans my own personal experience. In all of these cases, I know that I need to speak up. The trouble is: how?
While I believe we should strive for political correctness, everyone is equipped with different tools and will achieve this goal in different ways. At the same time, I feel no obligation to coddle someone who is blatantly racist, sexist or homophobic. However, with my peers it is never that simple.
Rarely do I find myself having a conversation with someone who is a clear bigot (not to say that bigots do not exist at Bowdoin). But it can be hard to try to have these conversations at a place like Bowdoin; it seems like wherever I turn someone is calling someone out for being dogmatic or overly PC or a closed-minded liberal.
It hurts to try to talk out issues I care about with people I care about and be shrugged off or accused of making everything about race, called out for overanalyzing or taking things too seriously. But the thing is, the society we live in really is that complicated—all of the little things we do or say are imbued with a greater meaning, influenced by systems and hierarchies.
I find that the same people here who complain about there not being enough open dialogue are those who shut down when dialogue is made available. Whenever I am at a teach-in or a conversation or a lecture about a deeply pressing issue, the same people are always there (unless extra credit is involved). If you are a person of privilege, it is so easy to ignore these issues. It is so easy to cover yourself in a blanket of liberalism but not actually participate in the discussion or devote time to a cause.
A couple of weeks ago, when Deray McKesson '07 visited Bowdoin, he expressed the idea that people of privilege have to understand that the fight for justice involves them giving some of that privilege up. And one of those privileges is silence and non-participation. If you truly believe in justice and equality, you will show up and you will welcome dialogue and even criticism.
Some people don’t want to be bothered. They prioritize the comfort of their daily routine over learning and uncomfortable yet meaningful conversations. I don’t think that is an inevitable fact of human nature. I think that is something that has to change if we want to address real issues with a broad and diverse audience, because I care about my friends, and I care about deeply engaging them. If they don’t want to make that effort, are they really a friend?
Maybe I will lose a couple of friends because of these efforts. But if I am aware that something said is problematic or if it hurts me, I am going to call it out. We all should. But we should also be prepared and we should welcome the conversation that follows whatever criticism or position we may bring forward. If that makes you a “Social Justice Warrior,” so what? At least you are fighting for something.

Doing it wrong

Oppressed groups need to seek common ground

This piece represents the opinion of the author:

February 26, 2015

Unfortunately, wages are still one of the many facets of society where inequality is present.
And while bringing light to any form of inequality is a worthwhile endeavor, there is a wrong way to go about it, and Patricia Arquette did just that in her acceptance speech at the 87th Academy Awards last Sunday. While on stage, she said, “We have fought for everybody else’s equal rights. It’s our time to have wage equality once and for all and equal rights for women in the United States of America.” But to complicate things further, in the press room afterwards, (according to USA Today) she said, “It’s time for us all…the gay people and people of color that we’ve all fought for to fight for us now.” Arquette’s statements at the Oscars assume two very incorrect ideas. First that, people of color and LGBTQIA people have gained equal rights while women haven’t, and second, that the struggles of all of these groups are not interconnected.

To tackle the first misconception, you don’t need to look any further than the wage inequality that Arquette referenced. While the wage gap undoubtedly affects women, it affects some women more than others: according to the data from the last census, while white women make 78 cents to the white man’s dollar, black women make 64 cents, Native American women make 59 cents, and Latina women make 54 cents. Furthermore, to combat the idea that the wage gap only affects women, data from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics reveals that Black and Hispanic men earn less weekly than White and Asian women ($664 and $594, as opposed to $819 and $722, respectively). The wage gap, and inequality in general, is bigger than gender.
Arquette’s comments are not only ignorant of the difficulties many communities continue to face, but they also perpetuate the divisiveness of identity politics. In order to advance equality for all, we need to stop seeing our struggles as disconnected.

Women cannot be truly free until all people of color and all LGBTIQA people are truly free. The colonization of the body will not be over until all facets of it are seen as equal. Why? Because feminism doesn’t stop at white women, anti-racism does not stop at men of color, and LGBTQIA rights do not stop at the white community or at men. Transgender women of color exist, disabled brown immigrants exist, gay male rape victims exist—people often experience oppression in different parts of their identities. We must continue to strive for the rights of all marginalized people so that these people will feel equal in our society. When Arquette says that it is time for people of color and gay people to fight for women now, she is suggesting that they are three isolated categories; she ignores intersectionality. As a woman of color, I feel that Arquette’s statement denies the multifaceted nature of my identity. Oppressions cannot be solved separately from each other.

On top of this, Arquette’s statement was offensive on the level that she suggests that she, along with all women, have fought for everybody else’s rights. Firstly, I was not aware that Patricia Arquette was an anti-racist and LGBTQIA activist. I was not aware that Patricia Arquette has been fighting so hard for my rights as a person of color.

We are not done fighting for these rights.

To suggest that is to undermine the very difficult struggles of millions of people. Arquette needs to look past her own experience as a white woman and recognize that just because a struggle does not exist for her personally, does not make it invalid.

There are ways to highlight injustice within one community without ignoring the injustices in other communities—evidenced by an earlier speech by John Legend and Common, where they touched on Dr. King’s activism as motivated by “a love for all human beings.” We must strive for this all-encompassing, inclusive love and fight for each other, instead of further alienating ourselves from each other. The recognition of intersectionality is how we will achieve true equality.

Comments are permanently closed.