We Need To Talk About Privilege
October 22, 2012 in white feminism
Image courtesy of The Feminist Wire
By Natalie Ntim
So there have a been a couple of articles and ‘Twitterstorms’ about issues affecting feminism over the past few weeks – Caitlin Moran “literally couldn’t give a shit” about Black women’s representation and Medhi Hasan waded into the abortion debate, claiming that pro-choicers “fetishise ‘choice’, selfishness and unbridled individualism”. Now that the anger has died down, these debates have left me thinking about privilege and conversations about it – why is it so volatile and difficult for people to face up to when they’re called out on it? Why is it that sometimes, calling yourself a ‘feminist’ or ‘left-wing’ or being part of a marginalised group is seen as a get-out-of-jail-free card when you ignore your own privilege and make sweeping statements like Moran and Hasan have?
Privilege clouds people’s judgement on issues like abortion, women’s representation and violence against women. In Caitlin Moran’s case, as a white woman, her privilege means she simply can’t see why a huge group of women not being represented on TV is that big of a deal. Actually, I think that she’s smart enough to recognise her own privilege, but she won’t do anything about it. When she’s brought up on it, she won’t admit it and becomes really defensive. How can we deal with this when other women and men react in a similar way to Moran? How can we deal with this without it turning into a huge row (which is what usually happens to me!)?
The more we talk about how one person can be discriminated against for multiple reasons (e.g. being a Black lesbian disabled woman), the more slippery privilege gets – there are hierarchies within marginalised groups, where privilege is intertwined with marginalisation on a person by person basis. Would it be ok for a white atheist/secularist woman to be critical of Hasan’s Muslim faith during a debate on abortion because as a man, he is arguing about it from a position of privilege?
I know that as an educated, middle-class, straight, able-bodied Black woman who grew up in Greater London I am already in a position of privilege over others, but I am also still discriminated against and my voice, although heard more loudly than others, is still ignored by some. So I have lots of questions, but not many answers. All I know is that being aware of your own position of privilege isn’t enough. We have to act to tackle how privilege changes our own perception and call out others who aren’t doing the same, whether we are lefties, black feminists or activists in other movements for equality.
Sudelicious said on October 22, 2012
Hi Natalie
I agree wholeheartedly with your piece. I have written about very similar themes in my latest blog ‘The post racial myth’ http://www.blackwomanwhitedress.com/2012/10/22/the-post-racial-myth/
Thanks
Sudelicious
Ashley said on October 23, 2012
This is so true. I find that discussions of privilege with people are more privileged than I are so uncomfortable. I think recognizing privilege also makes you feel a certain amount of guilt once you realize how many people you had wrongly judged. I also often think on my own privileges (I’m a middle-class, educated black) and remember that there are people still more marginalized than me.
Caitums said on November 9, 2012
I think being called on your own privilege is really difficult, because it is so personal and often you have been born into it and things like your class, race, (dis) ability etc are beyond your control. Also everyone gets a little buzz from fighting back against others’ privilege as well – it makes you feel righteous! I know i love ranting about the privilege of others, and when you are in the position of disadvantage you can see privilege everywhere!
At the same time those uncomfortable moments when you are suddenly forced to confront your own privilege or wake up to what it is like for other people is REALLY IMPORTANT. It hurts but it is so so important. My colleague invited me to join her book group last year and I was the only white middle class women there, everyone else was Jamaican-origin and from Lewisham (South London). We got talking about race loads and I was so shocked by all the examples they were giving about insidious, subtle everyday racism and just annoying things that they experience everyday. But then I felt like it was actually probably quite annoying for them that I was shocked a) because I had just been innocently going through the world unaware of stuff that they had no choice but to be aware of and b) because by acting ‘so shocked’ I was sort of trying to completely divide myself from the white people who made those kind of comments when blatantly I’d also done some of the same stuff in the past like I’ve got black people mixed up before, before I moved to London (so cringe!). The other thing that really struck me is that a lot of the things they were talking about was white people bumbling aorund sort of trying to do the right thing but just fucking it up. That doesn’t mean it’s OKAY but if what we’re dealing with is sort of inbuilt prejudices and discomfort and ignorance, as supposed to active malicious intent, it raises a question as to how to approach it.
I’m a pretty passionate feminist, and care about inequality in general a lot, and I’ve thought a lot about the most pragmatic way to deal with stuff and make change. I thing anger does have a place in making change because it can fortify you and it also makes it clear that NO it is not acceptable for white people to not tell you and another brown person apart, let alone be actively, intentionally racist but I also (and I am a bit of a hippy at heart) do believe that we have to show love to everyone and see even oppressors as victims of the same problematic system. As a white person, I definitely want to try to challenge myself but it is a hell of a lot easier when I have black writers or friends to challenge me and talk to me as well. As a feminist I’ve found that, for example, having a go at my brother for calling a girl a ‘slut’ just gets him really defensive where as bringing him round by not being so aggressive and talking about how feminism could benefit him as well is more effective. I guess it’s a question of what works for you personally, politically and sometimes on what you have the energy for. What do you reckon?