There’s been quite a lot of talk recently in feminist circles on Twitter (the ones I avoid and the ones I don’t) about “white feminism”. This was kicked off (at least most recently) by some remarks made by Caroline Criado-Perez on Woman’s Hour in response to a well made point by Reni Eddo Lodge about structural racism existing within feminism.  Caroline made a point I largely agree with about inter-feminist abuse, but it was clumsily made and the timing felt derailing to the important issues that Reni was drawing attention to. Reni was hurt and angry as a result and had a right to be so. Caroline has since written a full and interesting apology.

This context isn’t really what matters, it’s simply what has got me thinking. I can’t not be middle class and white with all the privileges that come with that. At the same time, I am not going to stop being a feminist. I don’t want to silence my feminism because others are further oppressed than I.

I’m not a terribly academic feminist. I haven’t even read either Germaine Greer or Betty Friedan for Petra’s sake! I love the writing of Caitlin Moran precisely because it is so easy to read, so accessible and got my sister to call herself a feminist for the first time in my hearing!

But despite not being one for academic reading and theorising, I do believe the concept of intersectionality is important. Feminism – no more than society – should not be dominated by one race or one class. Different types of oppression combine or drift apart to affect each of us differently. Recognising this is difficult when campaigns are – often by necessity – quite narrow and specific, but it is essential to a genuine understanding of the complexity of the world we face. If – for the sake either of self-protection or simplicity – we refuse to see the world as it truly is, how can we change it?

I don’t think this understanding should be reserved for the academics; for the people who have read all the right books.

My feminism – like all my politics – is based on a strong sense of solidarity. solidarity is probably the lodestone of my belief system. But like all beliefs, how I put it into practice bears examining. So I must recognise the innate and unexamined privileges that come with the simple facts of my class and race. That my sense of solidarity is not enough to balance those privileges. That like the men I ask to examine how their innate privileges benefit them to the disbenefit of others, I too must do so and act on the consequences.

But I won’t give up on championing the value of solidarity either. It seems wrong to me that over the past year, certain sections of Twitter have turned their feminism increasingly into inward facing bile towards women they don’t believe (rightly or wrongly) to be the right kinds of feminists. This tweet from Gia Milinovich summed my response to this up perfectly:

My feminism will celebrate and support other women rather than vilify or denounce them, or it will be bullshit.

— Gia Milinovich (@giagia) January 4, 2014

I think the kind of vile behaviour we have seen from some (largely white and middle class) quarters is part of what is making discussion about intersectionality – which should be a no-brainer for all fighters for equality – so ridiculously overblown. But we should not let this abuse of the language of intersectional feminism derail the importance of the cause. People who agree with you being arseholes in other respects does not make you wrong after all! However we choose to deal with those who might abuse us (again a contested topic, as being told to ignore the abusers can feel much like silencing of the victim of abuse), what we can do is choose to not allow it to demonise the important concept of intersectionality. We all need to own that and to fight for that ownership as far bigger than ourselves (certainly far bigger than just me) and far more important than the inadequacies of abusers.

What does any of this mean in practice? To be honest I am not sure. I don’t know if I have a platform big enough to make a difference, but I can try. When I am asked (very occasionally) to speak on feminist issues, I can ask if the platform will represent voices beyond my white and middle class experience. And if not, I can suggest it would be a much more interesting event if it did and that I would be happy to step back to allow that to happen. It’s a small but perfectly doable step.

Some may accuse me of grandstanding or piggy-backing. It is for these reasons that I am not going to ask others to join me in this decision. I don’t believe this is my crusade to lead (I’m sure I have both white guilt and a saviour complex, but I am at least trying to be self-aware about it!). I also welcome suggestions and fruitful dialogue about any other steps I might be able to take.

But in this – as in all other things – I will not tolerate abuse. I’m trying. Sometimes very trying. I’m human and I make mistakes. I hope I haven’t made too many in this post and I hope it makes some semblance of sense. Like so many other things I find it easier to understand my thoughts and feelings through writing them down. So that’s what I have done. I hope with enough honesty to warrant a moments pause.

Now let’s all get on with making 2014 the year feminists deserve.

Tags: Feminism

This entry was posted on Saturday, January 4th, 2014 at 21:59 and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.