I don't like the word "offended."

When someone tells me not to get "offended" at racist or sexist content, what they're telling me is that they don't care about the content itself. It doesn't make a difference to them whether there is racism or sexism going on. What they care about is my reaction - whether or not I, shall we say, get my panties in a twist. Whether I make a fuss about it.

Now, that's bad enough by itself - when someone's reaction to potential sexism is not, "What's wrong and how do I fix it?" but rather, "How do I silence your reaction?" But for now, I want to talk about what I hear when people tell me not to "get offended."

Let me tell you what "offends" me. Bad smells offend me. Neon orange next to bright pink offends me. Someone who cuts in line while I'm waiting for the bus offends me. Rudeness, ugliness - petty things.

Racism? Homophobia? That shit pisses me off. It makes me think you're ignorant. It makes me think that you're soaking in privilege and - unless you apologize and try to learn, of course - you don't give a damn about fixing that. "Offended" is too delicate a word for that feeling. It doesn't convey the fire and the steel behind my reaction to privilege.

So when someone dismisses me by saying that I (or feminist comic book fans, or anti-racist sci-fi fans, etc.) get offended at every little thing, they're not being accurate.

I'm not swooning at every random comment or image that violates my poor, delicate sensibilities. I'm also not trying to malign the character of the person who said or did the wrong thing. (See icon.) No, I'm getting pissed off at the rampant ignorance and privilege that poisons the things that I enjoy. I'm getting angry because my hobbies, which should be fun for me, instead perpetuate the forms of oppression fuck up my life, or the lives of others.

"I'm offended" sounds like I'm whining that you should fix something for my sake. (See above re: ugly colors and icky smells.) But when I raise a complaint about classist content or transphobic slurs, I'm saying that something is not right and needs to be changed. Whether or not it "offends" me.

Edit: That's it, anonymous comments are off. I refuse to juggle conversations with different people who won't even sign a name to their argument. Signing up for an LJ account is free, if you want to comment.

Reading the anti-feminist whinings of entitlement-junkies tends to get my blood boiling, but there are a few things that are just too funny to get mad about. Like, say, talking about men who are misandrist - and using Joss Whedon as your example. Because, y'know, if ever there was a man who loathed his own gender, and relegated male characters to the same sort of trivializing and degrading roles that misogynist creators use for female characters, it's Joss. All those well-rounded male characters with unique forms of internal strength and ingenuity, damn him.

He must be a misandrist in the same way Jackson Katz is. Or the same way that Tim Wise hates white people. God forbid someone call out their own group on their privileged bullshit.

(Does that make me self-hating, too, when I examine straight privilege or classism? Oh, but wait, clearly I hate men and white people too, right? So I guess I'm limited in my social circle to lesbians of color. Who better not be wealthy, damn them.)

Or maybe, just maybe, this is another case of the normalization of oppression, in which abuses of members of disadvantaged groups are ho-hum, but the slightest infraction against the privileged group is ZOMG! SUCH A CRIME. If members of a group are not "allowed" to do something, it's that much more of an offense when they do. Criticizing a dude's privilege? That's surely as grievous as belittling misogyny or commodifying rape!

That's why, you see, white kids who beat up a black kid are charged with battery, but black kids who beat up a white kid in relatiation are charged with attempted murder. Oh, and those nooses? Just a joke, you oversensitive PC-nazis!

*sigh* Sometimes there's too much ignorance in the world to comprehend.

Oh, well - I guess I can just go spit in a white man's coffee and make up for the history of colonialism or something.

[This post is in honor of the one two (whoops!) year birthday of the Official Shrub.com Blog, where I have been given the privilege to guest-blog for the past several months.]

As I mentioned in a previous post, I recently took a class on racism and white privilege. My professor was unflinching in his recognition that some things about anti-oppression work are "impossible." And while this sounds like a pessimistic view of things, I think it was very important that he acknowledged this concept and repeatedly brought it to our attention.

I chose to write about this subject for the two-year anniversary of the Official Shrub.com Blog because of that importance, despite the fact that it also sounds pretty dreary. I mean, it is a bit disheartening to commemorate the birth of an anti-oppression blog by talking about everything it can't do.

But recognizing difficulties can always do two different things: it can bring you down, and it can also help you clarify your path to better accomplish your goals. As you can guess, I hope to do the latter.

( some difficulties of dialogue )

x-posted to Shrub.com

Today, for the last meeting of my class on racism and white privilege, we had a panel of guest speakers who do anti-racist work from within the university. One was a white man, one a white woman, and one an African American man, so the issue was raised about allies. Allies, in the context of anti-oppression work, are members of a privileged group who work against that privilege: white people in anti-racism, men in feminism, etc.

Allies have a very different place in anti-oppression work than members of the non-privileged group. They don't have the firsthand experience of oppression, and so their knowledge of it is incomplete. They constantly risk perpetuating the oppression themselves - which, of course, all of us do, privileged or not - but with the added risk that, when they slip up, they hurt others rather than hurting themselves. However, allies are also powerful and helpful because of their very privilege, because they can use the social power that they have been arbitrarily and unfairly granted in order to work against the power structure.

Being an ally (and staying one) is also difficult and complicated. The panelists' discussions on what it means to be allies and to have allies (each of them was in a position to address both questions, due to their respective places in various social hierarchies) brought up several helpful points, which can help us as we think about creating and maintaining alliances in our work.

( On being an ally )

x-posted to Shrub.com

Young America's Foundation has made a list called The Dirty Dozen: America's Most Bizarre and Politically Correct College Courses.

#6 on the list is a Special Topics course in my Women Studies department titled "Border Crossings, Borderlands: Transnational Feminist Perspectives on Immigration."

GO US!

In the words of my departmental advisor, "I'm deeply disappointed they only picked one and that UW as a university wasn't even ranked."

(Gotta love how they seem to think that one of the really weird and crazy things people could think of studying is ... Native American feminism. 'CAUSE THAT'S SO FREAKY. Racist fucks.)

I have a ton of blog reading to catch up on, due to the fact that the last five days were jammed full with getting all of my Christmas shopping, writing all of my final papers, and doing all my winter-time celebrating (i.e., holiday party and my birthday). But here's the first thing to jump out at me:

Via Jenn at Reappropriate, Rosie O'Donnell makes a racist (anti-Chinese) joke. And surprise, surprise, no one does a goddamn thing about it.

One of the reasons this pisses me off so much is that I recently heard about O'Donnell having a public spar with Kelly Ripa over Ripa's homophobic comment. Ripa insisted she didn't intend to be homophobic, and O'Donnell replied, "I'm just saying from where I sit as a gay person in the world that I have to tell you, that's how it came off to me." In other words, as the non-privileged person, she (rightly) has the broader perspective concerning what is privileged or bigoted. However, when O'Donnell says that her racist comment "was not meant to mock," and Asian-Americans try to assert their perspective, we're told that we just don't have a sense of humor.

Bigoted "humor" is one of the things I hate most. Because when you try to call someone on their privilege, they always use the chickenshit response, "hey, it was a joke, get over it." Instead of taking two seconds to see what's wrong with what they said, they just carry blithely on. And what ends up as a throwaway comment for them is usually the 600th repetition of the oppression I have to face every damn day.

So, Ms. O'Donnell, let me tell you - being a lesbian who knows a lot about queer issues doesn't give you a free pass concerning other forms of oppression. Yes, white women can be racist too - that's kind of what one of the giant schisms in Western feminism is all about.

You know what? Just like I'm tired of sexism in the anti-racist movement, it's also really fucking tiresome to have to deal with racism in the queer movement, feminism, and everything else.

And while we're at it, you know what's not okay? This whole "nobody's racist anymore, but sexism is all over the place" whining from white women who don't have a clue what it's like to deal with both. Or any other form of "my oppression is the only one still out there, so you shut up about yours." We're all stomped on in different ways, so stop trying to be the special snowflake whose hardship is the worst.

On another topic, go take a look at Hey Hetero!, a public art installation in Australia that highlights straight privilege. Which I've got in spades. (Because, you know, being yellow and female doesn't mean I get to forget that I'm a straight person who doesn't get harassed for the gender of my partner. Who'd've thunk?)

I realize that, lately, I am an angry person.

I read the news, I get angry. I read my blogs - most of which are political in nature - and get angry. I see things in my daily life that make me angry - hateful misogyny, self-serving racism, ruthless economic exploitation, and on and on and on.

On the one hand, I think that's a good thing - "If you're not angry, you're not paying attention" is a truth I live by. While I'm not glad that I'm angry, I'm glad that I have some sort of response to the oppression and mistreatment that goes on every single day in this world. I'm glad I notice at least some of all this, and that I have a visceral response that this world isn't right. If I can still feel outrage - and thus, a desire to change things - then I know I'm still human, and not totally numb or complacent.

( The world pisses me off )

x-posted to Shrub.com

Check out the latest Carnival of Feminists over at Super Babymama: the theme this time around is feminism and poverty.

Class is perhaps the least-covered topic in the feminist blogosphere. Race, as I've experienced it, is often treated poorly, but at least it's treated at all - class issues just tend to be overlooked. Of course, I'm fully implicating myself as well - I don't talk about class much. I have very poor understanding of classism, either how it works on a large scale, or how I perpetuate it personally. I don't even have a classism tag, the way I do for sexism, racism, and homophobia. My class privilege is, I would say, the least examined.

I've had my eyes opened a little bit recently, especially with all my Women Studies courses last quarter - in particular, the global classist structure (tied in with racism and sexism) that perpetuates the "Third World"/"First World" division. But I know thismuch about, say, welfare in the U.S. One of the reasons for that is that the U.S. hates to talk about economic privilege, because we're supposed to be a free market, where everyone has a chance on an equal playing field. Class is like a four-letter word.

Anyway, my point is: this Carnival is a great place to start. I talked about self-education on privilege - well, here we go, a buttload of information dropped onto my lap. I'll be reading through these entries, and I highly recommend that all of you out there do the same - there's far too much ignorance on this topic.

In keeping with my earlier post on self-education about privilege, I bring you proof that education is neither hard to find, nor hard to understand.

-How (heterosexual?) men should act around women in public. Short, to the point, and not nearly as hard as anti-feminist whiners would make it out to be.

-A book excerpt (Jackson Katz, woo!) explaining how men's and women's general understandings of sexual assault are fundamentally different.

-Why the 'you're just overreacting' response to accusations of sexual harassment is bullshit. (Amanda's analysis also applies to racist/homophobic/etc. harassment.)

-Why the 'it's your fault for not stopping it' response to accusations of sexual harassment is also bullshit. (I highly, highly recommend reading this post, as well as the personal anecdotes in the comments. I guarantee that any woman who has experienced sexual harassment will recognize herself in them. And Happy's explanation of why women generally respond the way they do is right on.)

-On a different subject, why the 'but there are _____ people who act like this' defense of stereotypes in fiction is bullshit. If you ever worry about relying on stereotypes in your own creations (I know I do), read it. Learn it. Do it.

One of the common reactions of people who learn about their privilege is to go to the non-privileged group for education. It makes sense, in a way; privilege begets blindness in the privileged, so those who are most likely to have knowledge of privilege and its resultant oppression are members of the non-privileged group.

However. The follow-up to: "I just realized that people like me have been disadvantaging and taking advantage of people like you" should not be: "Now YOU come teach ME about how I've been screwing you over." Because, um, hello, sense of entitlement? One of your first steps should be learning to stop demanding things of the non-privileged group.

So. How do you get educated? I see a lot of frustration from well meaning privileged people who feel stuck, because on the one hand they're not supposed to make non-privileged people be their teachers - but on the other hand, without someone to teach them, how do they make sure not to hurt/offend/piss off people in the future?

( Step 1: Put that frustration in context )

I ran across this gem in another blog:

sometimes i think there are way too many people who mostly understand "racist" as something like:

1) Racism is bad.
2) I am not a bad person.
3) Therefore, I'm not racist.
4) Lather, rinse, repeat.

Perfectly stated.

I wonder, sometimes, what it is that makes people think that being a generally good person is a magical shield against being racist (and/or sexist, homophobic, or otherwise *ist). I mean, I know a bunch of people, myself included, who would think of themselves as good people - yet admit that they have major flaws such as a short temper or the inability to keep deadlines. Doing so doesn't trigger some debilitating cognitive dissonance as we try to wonder, How can I still be a worthwhile person if I needed an extension on my term paper!?

And yet. Pointing out a *ist behavior to a person is like sticking a pig with a needle. A narcissistic, defensive pig, who thinks that self-proclamations of being a "good person" are enough. Regardless of the arguments or evidence presented to them, the metaphorical pigs are determined to persist in their self-image as a good - and non-prejudiced!!1! - person. (Yeah, a man insisting he can determine what is or isn't sexist? A straight person attempting to define homophobia? Is the ridiculousness of this somehow not apparent?)

And, okay, *isms are more serious flaws in character than, say, being late on an assignment. It's natural that the thought of being *ist would be more troubling. But not to the point of denial, and the implication that the member of the oppressed group is somehow wrong in identifying your behavior. On the contrary, being on the bottom of an oppressive system means that someone is more likely to have greater and more intimate knowledge of the oppression. Privilege begets blindness.

Privilege is also pervasive. It's much, much harder to recognize and extinguish it than to accept and ignore it.

I am a part of the interlocking systems of oppression. I dedicate myself to feminism, anti-racism, and everything else that fights oppression - but I still live and function in society, and society is steeped in *isms. Have I internalized sexism against myself and other women? Of course. Have I internalized racism against my race? Ho-boy yeah. Against other non-white races? You betcha. And am I full to the brim of privilege due to being a straight person, a wealthy person, an educated person, a U.S. citizen? Yes, yes, yes, and yes.

And yet. Do I still think I'm a good person? Yes.

But that means it's my duty to educate myself about the privileges and oppressions I experience, so I can really earn that label.

You know what's not okay? This is not okay:

"If you had a racist in your class, would you gently, calmly nudge-nudge-know-what-you-mean slowly try to bring him along, or would you more assertively confront him? I don't think you'd tolerate racism the same way you might be tolerating sexism, Hugo. I think you would, perhaps not rudely, but sternly, set someone straight on race. Why should women be treated differently? Because you think it's still more socially acceptable to be a woman hater?"

( What, all I said was that your complaints are less valid than mine! )

Over at Alas, Ampersand has made a post defending the Male Privilege Checklist against various criticisms, most notably the one of "pettiness" (i.e., "this isn't worth your time, and if you really cared about sexism you would pay attention to _____"). The post is great, and thoroughly trounces this would-be dismissal.

On a related topic, Tekanji rebuts the "pettiness" criticism about analyzing sexism in popular culture. As analyzing popular culture is one of my favorite nerdy hobbies, I'm glad to see this articulate defense.

( What it all means )

Note: I'll keep sharing noteworthy links I find, but I've also added a list of all the non-LJ blogs that I follow to my info page. Check it out for good reading material.

I found Mikhaela Reid's political cartoons through Ms. magazine and figured my friends list would also enjoy them. They're mostly queer/feminist themed, but there are also good bits about religious extremism and racism. Some highlights:

Every Sperm is Sacred!

It's Not Easy Being a College Gay-Hater!

What's Your Fantasy?

Citizens Against Earned Citizenship

Two members of the Duke lacrosse team have been arrested and charged.

If you've been hiding in a cave and have somehow not heard anything about the Duke rape case, you can get a rundown of the story by going here. In a nutshell, the victim is a black female student from North Carolina Central University (historically black) and working mother, who was hired as an exotic dancer for a party by members of the lacrosse team at Duke (historically ... well). After being driven out of the party by racial slurs, she returned and was allegedly beaten and raped. Issues of sex, race, class, and the attending domination and entitlement, are rampant.

I've been following this story intermittently over the past few weeks, and sometimes I have to ignore it and pretend it doesn't exist. Cowardly, I know, but sometimes I feel so much anger and fear and sadness that I don't think I could find enough tears or shouting or violence to express.

Because what does this case, and the scenario described within it, make me think of? Yes, the "big three" of racism/sexism/classism - the overarching systems of inequality that permeate society. But also? Individual helplessness in the face of all of that. Because she's just one woman. A woman attempting to prosecute her rapist has a hard enough time, but she's also black, a stripper, and struggling financially: vulnerable to being dehumanized in so many ways. There's an entire system of power arrayed against her - an old, strong, entrenched culture that she has to face. It's not just wealth, or whiteness, or maleness that she has to face from her alleged attackers. It's more than that - it's the smug sense of entitlement, of superiority, that the culture infuses into people due to those qualities. Duke has had a long history of suffering mistreatment from athletes - from the lacrosse team in particular - because they are people who have never heard the word "no." Or, at least, heard it and had to obey. And if you think that sense of entitlement has nothing to do with being rich white boys - well, I just hope to God you're never on the opposite side of that power equation.

But it's not just lacrosse, or Duke, of course. It's everywhere. Everyone who's gone to high school with athletes knows the "boys will be boys" tolerance accorded to them (though whether they abused it is another matter). And anyone who's taken a long hard look at oppression knows the ways in which prejudice feeds into that mentality - most often sexism and homophobia, but racism and classism are hardly rare. And if you want to see it in action? Just look at some of the blog posts being made about the issue. News stories, too - though they're more subtle about it. On the other hand, you can try looking at the more equitable treatment being given to the story in the left-leaning blogs - Pandagon, Alas, a Blog, Feministe - and read the comments there. Again, a lot of people try to couch their bigotry in soft words, but some don't. And you can read the sentiments there anyway - She's probably lying about being raped. She's just playing the race card. She's a stripper, so she can't be believed. She's a stripper, so she can't be raped. And, of course, They're good boys - because they're athletes, because they're rich and respectable. The minimization of the athletes' previous behavior as merely "inappropriate." The scoffing dismissal of the possibility that race played a role because racism somehow doesn't happen anymore.

It's here. It's not in some hidden corner of society. It's not only in this school, or that. It's in the everyday people all around us. I see it now, in a specific case - but this isn't new. I see and hear this shit all the time. More now that I've learned to read between the lines. Oh, it's "better" than it was before - 100 years ago? 50? But there's still way, way too much of it. It's there, and so many people buy into it, and so many people don't even care, that sometimes I don't even know what deluded dream could lead me to believe that I might somehow chip away at it.

I feel powerless. And yes, this is about power. The power of rich, white men to think nothing of sexually violating a poor, black woman. Maybe not in this particular case - there's always the possibility - but if not here, then goddamn everywhere else. Women getting hurt. Blacks getting hurt. Lesbians getting hurt. It's about domination, degradation, humiliation - the ability to bleed power and superiority out of someone else. And the ability, if you're the right kind of person, to have society let you do it.

It is absolutely vital, however, not to make the victim a symbol, or turn her story into some mythic representation of all oppression. The alleged crime happened to a real person. Whatever we can say about patterns of behavior or theories on society, she is more than a statistic or a news byte. She felt it and experienced it, and now has to keep experiencing it until this case is over - and forever afterward. what does that feel like, and what is it doing to her? I have no fucking clue. But this story ... it's a reminder. It triggers realizations. Realizations that make me feel tired and smothered and enraged and silenced and scared. And will I keep fighting and hoping? Of course. But it's never, never easy.

This is not my post for Blog to Raise Awareness About Sexual Violence. I had a different one planned, which I'll write later. Maybe.

"I think we need to talk about the joy. I get such joy out of feminism. It is the greatest joy of my life, and somehow we don't translate that."
--Gloria Steinem

The feminist theory book I just finished reading used this quote as its conclusion, and I was so happy to find it there. I don't know if I feel exactly the same way - I'm way too young to be able to say what's my life's greatest joy! - but I think joy is a very important part of feminism and other anti-oppression movements. From a personal standpoint, at least, it's a very important part of why I study these things.

That seems strange, doesn't it? I mean, I know it's hard to learn about all the crappy things that society does: It's frustrating. It's nasty. It's gut-wrenching. Sometimes I have to take a break in the middle of the day from reading more news stories and analyses that reveal the ugly underbelly of my society. Sometimes I have to cut myself for days, as I did over Spring Break. Every once in a while, I feel kind of hopeless, and I wish I could go back to being sheltered and naive, when I thought that individual bad things were done by individual bad people, and weren't parts of giant and pervasive patterns - that society didn't treat me a certain way or think about me a certain way because I'm female or Asian-American (or that society didn't do things to other people for being gay, black, poor, disabled ...).

But that naivete was damaging in its own way. When you try to deny the presence of any of the "-isms" you're sort of left with two options: pretend the bad stuff isn't happening at all, or blame the oppressed group for the inequity. When you think about it that way, the joy of feminism/anti-oppression is clear, because it does the exact opposite: it affirms that yes, the bad stuff is happening, and no, you aren't making it up; and it also says it's not your fault that it happens to you. It's a way to speak my own experience, to hear those of other people, and to articulate what I feel is wrong, in a way that makes change possible.

It's comforting, affirming, empowering - and, ultimately, gives you the tools to fix what's wrong. Is there any other definition of joy?

A small example: my new classes for the quarter. I'm taking Introduction to Women Studies (with miss_arel, which is much awesome); Contemporary Feminist Theory; and Ethnicity, Gender, and Media. (Yes, it's a women studies bonanza this quarter.) In that last class, which I had this morning, we spent the introductory lecture talking about privilege: white, heterosexual, and male privilege (though the professor acknowledged that there were more that we weren't covering this time). We talked about how privilege worked. For most of us, we were speaking from the "other side," as people who lacked one or more of the privileges. As always, my classmates are mostly white - but this time they're also largely female, and there are enough people of color and openly gay people that I can't count them all on one hand. I have had exactly three other classes that have come close to this level of diversity.

It wasn't a bitchfest about how we've been stomped on, though it could have been. It was just honest observation, without the fear that someone from the dominant group would shoot back with a "nuh-uh you're just making it up!" We talked. Sometimes we laughed. We acknowledged that our society can be ugly. It was a very tiny beginning that probably didn't change anyone's lives - but it set the tone for the rest of the quarter, so now I know that this will be a class with an atmosphere that is both critical and sympathetic. I have learned that this isn't the kind of class I can ask for every time, so I'm grateful when it comes.

This was my joy today.

Thoughts are coalescing in my head, and I figure it's better to spit them all out now than let them nag at me when I'm trying to do homework ...

Back when I first started following feminist, I remember thinking that I wished it was more debate-friendly, or that I could find a community for debating aspects of feminism. (anti_feminism was, unfortunately, the only thing I found, and I've peeked in on it from time to time to see if it would disprove my view of it as a crock of bullshit. It hasn't.) Sure, there's disagreement on feminist, but often sharply dissenting views will spark hostile reactions, so debate gets stifled. I wanted a place where the atmosphere was more conducive to "civilized debate," like abortiondebate, which I've been following for years. Besides some ground rules about no personal attacks and the like, everything is pretty much free game. Vehemently pro-choice and vehemently pro-life people engage in open conversation with (theoretically) a basic level of respect.

I've seen recently how this whole "we can debate and just be nice to each other" view is a bit naive. I mean, feminism and abortion are two issues which can stir up a huge amount of passion -- and, resultantly, massive flamewars. Maybe you can't have "civilized debate." But if you do try to put up some rules and have polite conversation, well ... is it really worth it?

( In which I argue about how to argue )

Oh, and for feminist debate, there's now discussfeminism -- it's relatively new, but it looks promising.

*puts on pedantic hat*

The concept of "invisibility" is one that's come up in my studies of both feminism and racism. It's really something that happens in all "-ism"s, whenever there's a privileged group and an oppressed minority. But it's kind of a hard thing to explain sometimes, especially because (for me, at least) it's something that's easily overlooked. But that's makes sense if it's called "invisibility," huh? :P

Here is an ad that illustrates the idea perfectly. It's in French, but you don't need to understand the words. I saw it linked on feminist and just love-love-loved it.

I won't say what the ad is, because it works so beautifully on its own. But it just explains invisibility so well -- it's the ability to assume you're normal, to be the default, to *not* have to put forth extra effort just to do normal, everyday things. It is a *huge* privilege, but since by design it isn't meant to be noticed, most people in privileged groups don't even understand that they have it.

That's why it galls me when I hear straight people complaining that the concept of domestic partnerships gives non-heterosexuals special rights. Or men complaining that Women's Studies is giving women special consideration. Or white people complaining about the consideration of racial minority status as a benefit in selection processes. Or anyone who whines about "special treatment" of minorities. None of this would even be necessary if the default for society weren't straight, rich, white, able-bodied (possibly Christian) male. These unusual treatments stand out only because the default identity doesn't *need* attention -- it just *is.* That's how it's "invisible."

I know I can't explain it as well as I'd like. Please please please watch the video -- it's only a few seconds long, and it's really worthwhile.

How much should rights movement be concerned with what the dominant majority thinks? How much should we try to get along and be the same, and how much should we value difference?

I used to be a big proponent of 'equality,' and by 'equality' I meant that everyone should be treated the same. As I got older, I realized that it's a lot fairer (and more practical) to give everyone the same opportunities rather than trying to guarantee the same outcomes -- for example, merit-based advancement which begins with a level playing field, but may result in something of a hierarchy. (In other words, I am not for communism.) It's pointless to believe that we have the same strengths, desires, priorities, etc. -- and not only in economic or professional goals, but also larger life goals, personal values, and other areas. Advocating for an equal 'starting level' society in spite of, or because of, the possibility of these different outcomes is a viable aim. I also began to recognize the value, the vital importance, of difference in the movements themselves -- "difference" movements emphasize the unique perspectives of the minority groups, in contrast to classical liberal ideologies that focus on agreement between the majority and minority. This leads to the formation of women/black/gays/etc.-only groups to supplement more integrated groups of women's/black's/gays'/etc. rights activists. (Some people want these groups to *replace* the mixed groups, but, um, yeah. Not my thing.) The idea is that the unique experiences and voices of the specific minority group need to be preserved and applied to the fight against its oppression. Minority groups shouldn't have to try to fit in with the majority, just work with it.

I didn't like the idea at first -- hey, I want everyone to get along and have the same chance to contribute, and not be singled out for their color/gender/what have you -- but I recognize the fact that one can never completely understand another person's experience of prejudice. I will never know exactly how a gay person feels to be the target of homophobia because he or she is gay (even though I can be called a homophobic name, I won't understand what it feels like to be targeted because of my actual, rather than perceived, identity). A man will never know exactly how I feel under misogynist pressure. Anti-Chinese racism is different from anti-Latino racism, and so on. Also, a culture or sub-culture simply has different customs and values, which need to be recognized. However much I or another person will want to contribute to a movement for a group of which I am not a part, we will have to accept that there are some things we can't do, some understanding we don't have, and we will have to defer to the members of the group in question. This is particularly true in the cases of groups that traditionally don't have a voice in public discourse -- women fifty years ago, gays thirty years ago, aboriginal groups now. (Yes, it will be because of their race or gender or sexual orientation, but this is not a prejudiced, essentialist viewpoint -- the idea is to recognize the contributions an individual can make based on the actual experiences he or she has as a member of a group, rather than an assumption of what his or her identity is just because he or she fits a certain label.)

Anyway, with that long-winded introduction, here's what I actually wanted to talk about in the first place. :P

( Cut for length )

My opinion remains unsettled. Give me input, please.

Read this:

http://www.livejournal.com/users/arkhamrefugee/522802.html

I don't have time to write commentary, or even to comment on the post itself. Just read it. It's good stuff.