Scribblings with Green Chalk

At first glance this question might seem slightly awkward. But I find it crucial to ask about perpective and forms of engagement before going on to explore particular issues connected with the black feminist experience.

From its inception, black feminism was by Black women for Black women and the benefit of the Black community as a whole. The communal aspect cannot be undermined, since black feminism has been primarily concerned with praxis: no theorizing without activism.

This much is clear. Yet since its orientation is not solely towards the female individual but the community — of women and women within a larger community — what if we asked about its possible benefits for the society at large?

The black feminist standpoint is exceptional in that it grasps multiple levels of oppression: it’s articulated at the intersection of race and gender, and as such it reveals the ways in which systems of oppression and exclusion conflate. Although in everyday existence this position signifies deprivation and invisibility within dominant discourse, in the light of standpoint theory, it makes for deep insight. Coming from the very bottom of the power hierarchy, the black feminist standpoint is cognizant of the mechanisms and ideologies that more privileged standpoints would either not notice or consider neutral.

It’s knowledge.

The pursuit of knowledge is one of the great human desires.

And — I’m thinking out loud here — this kind of knowledge appears exceptional in that it provides a chance to sever the cords between knowledge and power. It’s not about inventing the wheel or, more accurately, inventing systems of control, but about understanding. Understanding has been increasingly undervalued, since it does not have momentum, does not lead to expansion. Or has understanding never really been valued?… And yet, as I stated above, people desire knowledge, if only for the sake of satisfying desire.

Since standpoints are not inherent qualities, it makes sense to believe that one can access them without being part of the original group, with additional effort, perhaps. Yet how to do that without making it seem like an attempt to steal, and change ideas?

First of all, how to listen and hear? There is no “neutral starting point” for a dialog with a position we do not know enough about. All such attempts fail and, what is worse, lead to more misunderstandings. I found two posts at Beautiful, Also, Are the Souls of My Black Sisters that clearly illustrate this. In “What Can the White Woman Say to the Black Woman?,” the writer, Ann, warns about disregarding history. Irrational fears of “reverse racism” often preclude necessary openness, without which participating in the project of black feminism is not possible. This leads to isolation and separatism. And while separatism has its advantages, it rarely leads to sharing knowledge and spreading tolerance.

As Patricia Hill Collins warns (critiquing Hazel V. Carby):

Exclusionary definitions of Black feminism which confine ‘black feminist criticism to black women critics of black women artists depicting black women’ (Carby 1987, 9) are inadequate because they are inherently separatist. Instead, the connections here aim for autonomy. (Black Feminist Thought 32-33)

Arguing for autonomy instead of isolation, Collins opens up the possibility for outsiders to be part of the discussion. The question remains: How?

Another one of Ann’s posts, “Shut the Fuck Up,” mentions attempts at placating Black women without asking about the reasons of their anger and discontent. Treating women like children is, of course, nothing new but always a suicidal shot if what one wants is insight and knowledge. The answer is, as Ann points out, to shut up. Not to step in with “but’s” and “however’s” before you’ve heard the argument and thought it over. My next question is where to go from there.

If your objective is to learn and use the knowledge in your experience and, furthermore, to engage with the perspective (which is what I personally want), how do you find your place within the larger project? Which, in the end, boils down to the question: who can become a black feminist?

Those who follow my scribblings on a more or less regular basis (thank you for that), probably noticed that I put up a new page. I want to add to the random ramblings a thread about the idea which, I hope, becomes in the end a good thesis.

From now on some of the posts will be concerned with questions about black feminism, the black feminist standpoint, and the different forms of activism (with emphasis on blogging and internet initiatives).

Please feel free to contribute to the discussion, irrespective of your sex, skin color, nationality, if you are interested in and supportive of black feminism. Misanthropic comments are not welcome.

This wasn’t inspired by any madeleine moment. Nor by yesterday’s grammatical misunderstanding. No eurekas of the past, no linguistic crimes. This is just a moment in my ongoing thinking process. Although if I had to name a particular turning point, it would probably be reading Toril Moi’s “‘I Am Not a Feminist, But . . .’: How Feminism Became the F-Word” (PMLA Vol. 121, No. 5 — for the more curious among you). Before that article I imagined that the backlash I noticed in Poland was merely a local phenomenon. Yet another wave of Catholic resurgence, yet another dirty trick orchestrated by the far right. It’s been a little over a year now since I left the country and am trying to trace why I thought so. I blame it all on idealism. Trying to believe in positive change, I tend to overestimate my findings. But there is always another rude awakening.

Or let me put it differently. Though certain ideas may seem old and used up, they still persist. In spite of all the confusing talk about ‘post-feminism’ and equality won and established, the reality fell behind in the chase with newspapers. The world is not as fast as thought. We are not blasé post-modern in everything. This never happened. What did happen was that theory (in humanities, I cannot speak for other fields) turned so theoretical that it wasn’t about anything much but itself. Reading it is similar to reading old science fiction — to those visions of the year 2000 when we no longer need dentists. Remember that? I don’t and neither does my dentist.

But was the theory madness the reason why so many people today consider feminism obsolete? Or am I getting it all wrong and running into a conspiracy view? But I see things that really scare me. The invention of the young conservative woman, for instance. Who pulls her strings and whose voice is it when she opens her mouth to announce that feminism is evil and that renewal will come through ‘traditional values’? It’s a wild interpretation of Pascal’s claim that most of the mess in this world comes from our inability to sit quietly in our rooms. If women sat quietly in their rooms appreciating traditional gender roles, so the argument goes, there would be less mess in the world. So feminism’s obsolete, no?

Perhaps in a parallel world, where all the edges are smoother and everyone’s benevolent, this is merely a question of perspective: there is no problem when so many people don’t see it. Here and now, I conceive of this as a blind spot blotting out the view. The struggle for gender equality began to seem so familiar that it ceased to be treated seriously. Instead, it became common to approach it as a fad. Moreover, as a fad that is long passé. It’s in that smirk followed by “so you’re a feminist,” in all the nonsensical debates about ‘militant feminism.’ (How frustrating and vacuous all this talking is is best explained here and here.)

If I did realize these things before, only needed to recognize their gravity, what is then the change? What’s with the initial disclaimer? Maybe I’ve known too many women who believed that they were stupid and said it aloud, and too many who never dared to speak in class. Or, on the most personal level, I’m annoyed with myself for not being able to cope with my own extroverted nature all these years, with always trying to guess what is ‘appropriate’ and advisable. Not that I follow those rules, but still I know where the bit is even if I refuse to hold it between my teeth. Sitting quietly in your room, M. Pascal, you can become your own worst enemy, even if only out of boredom. This moment in my thinking is when I feel thinking alone is not enough. Browsing on-line, I mostly found organizations asking for donations and that is not the kind of activism I mean (who will pay my rent?). Any ideas on what I could do?