I agree with much of what you've said, and said well, here.
I have been thinking a lot lately about how abuses of power at both a micro and macro level use many of the same techniques--there is always silencing, there is always a tendency to see people who are not you as either opponents (to then be silenced) or as needy dependents (to then be silenced), there is always an assumption that the fact that change is hard should absolve us from doing that hard work, or else allow us to talk endlessly about how virtuous we are for changing and pat ourselves on the back for doing so.
In particular this essay brought some of those techniques and uses of them, which I have been thinking about lately, into focus for me--in particular, the last line brought a bunch of stuff into focus. I can see myself, personally, as a priveliged white woman, struggling to become more than what "someone did to me."
To see an entire nation (and world) struggling to become more than what "someone did to me"--to see that in a larger cultural context throughout the whole of America, and to see the silencing implicit in the fact that the work of anti-racism is just ignored, or to see that white poeple working in the anti-racist movement view the fact that they are doing the work as an excuse for further ignorance and silencing--to see that classic abusive behavior writ large across a nation and all its peoples, and to recognize the ways in which I've been that abuser (even while trying not to be that abuser, even while thinking I wasn't the abuser, even while knowing all this about abuse, even while trying to actively work out ways not to be the abuser) and to recognize and feel the truth of the well-founded reasons that some people of color have for making the decision to steer well clear of white people in general in discussions about racism...well. It was a lot of thinking, kind of all at once over a period of about an hour.
It was heartbreaking and staggering and angering and mostly heartbreaking some more, and I've been really quiet the last few days, thinking about it and trying to work out parallels between abusive techniques that have been deployed against me and abusive techniques that have been deployed against others. I'm dismayed (though not shocked, not shocked at all) to see that every one that I can come up with that has been personally deployed against me, just from being abused in a specific kind of relationship between me and my parents (not to mention all the kinds of abuse I haven't been subjected to but am trying to make myself aware of) is visibile, matched, and magnified in the broader American cultural landscape, against disadvantaged groups of all races and ages and abilites and genders, etc.
I am a vulnerable, imperfect person, like everyone else. And it is only together, as a united group of vulnerable, imperfect people, that we can change the world.
Yes. I think one of the biggest problems with having a status quo, whether it's one of race, religion, gender, or something else, is that those in the status quo use it, consciously or subconsciously, to play down/ignore their own vulnerabilities/imperfections, or pretend that they don't have vulnerabilities or imperfections. It does a huge disservice to minority groups when the status quo folks use that lie as an excuse to reach out and help The Others (who are broken and to be pitied/assisted). It also does a huge disservice to themselves, because they can't see that they themselves are vulnerable and imperfect, and acknowledge that they themselves also need love and care, and keeps them away from recieving or understanding the true nature of love and healing and caring--which is that you don't need to be perfect to give it, and you don't need to be broken to recieve it, and that receiving or giving it won't make you perfect anyway.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2009-12-08 09:17 pm (UTC)I have been thinking a lot lately about how abuses of power at both a micro and macro level use many of the same techniques--there is always silencing, there is always a tendency to see people who are not you as either opponents (to then be silenced) or as needy dependents (to then be silenced), there is always an assumption that the fact that change is hard should absolve us from doing that hard work, or else allow us to talk endlessly about how virtuous we are for changing and pat ourselves on the back for doing so.
In particular this essay brought some of those techniques and uses of them, which I have been thinking about lately, into focus for me--in particular, the last line brought a bunch of stuff into focus. I can see myself, personally, as a priveliged white woman, struggling to become more than what "someone did to me."
To see an entire nation (and world) struggling to become more than what "someone did to me"--to see that in a larger cultural context throughout the whole of America, and to see the silencing implicit in the fact that the work of anti-racism is just ignored, or to see that white poeple working in the anti-racist movement view the fact that they are doing the work as an excuse for further ignorance and silencing--to see that classic abusive behavior writ large across a nation and all its peoples, and to recognize the ways in which I've been that abuser (even while trying not to be that abuser, even while thinking I wasn't the abuser, even while knowing all this about abuse, even while trying to actively work out ways not to be the abuser) and to recognize and feel the truth of the well-founded reasons that some people of color have for making the decision to steer well clear of white people in general in discussions about racism...well. It was a lot of thinking, kind of all at once over a period of about an hour.
It was heartbreaking and staggering and angering and mostly heartbreaking some more, and I've been really quiet the last few days, thinking about it and trying to work out parallels between abusive techniques that have been deployed against me and abusive techniques that have been deployed against others. I'm dismayed (though not shocked, not shocked at all) to see that every one that I can come up with that has been personally deployed against me, just from being abused in a specific kind of relationship between me and my parents (not to mention all the kinds of abuse I haven't been subjected to but am trying to make myself aware of) is visibile, matched, and magnified in the broader American cultural landscape, against disadvantaged groups of all races and ages and abilites and genders, etc.
I am a vulnerable, imperfect person, like everyone else. And it is only together, as a united group of vulnerable, imperfect people, that we can change the world.
Yes. I think one of the biggest problems with having a status quo, whether it's one of race, religion, gender, or something else, is that those in the status quo use it, consciously or subconsciously, to play down/ignore their own vulnerabilities/imperfections, or pretend that they don't have vulnerabilities or imperfections. It does a huge disservice to minority groups when the status quo folks use that lie as an excuse to reach out and help The Others (who are broken and to be pitied/assisted). It also does a huge disservice to themselves, because they can't see that they themselves are vulnerable and imperfect, and acknowledge that they themselves also need love and care, and keeps them away from recieving or understanding the true nature of love and healing and caring--which is that you don't need to be perfect to give it, and you don't need to be broken to recieve it, and that receiving or giving it won't make you perfect anyway.