The F word: On feminism, being an ally & social justice

by Guest Contributor Dumi Lewis, originally published at Uptown Notes


I am an African-American man. I am a heterosexual man. I am a middle-class man. These three statements are the basis for my social justice work and advocacy, but each carries its own hazard for working on social justice. While many will assume my position as a Black man in America makes me sensitive to “minority statuses”, in reality, over the past 10 years I’ve learned nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, in many ways, my status as Black man in America has the potential to undercut my work of engaging the pursuit of equality of opportunity, equality of outcome and the right to self-determination for all people. I am both privileged and disadvantaged. I have identities that I celebrate, identities I conceal, and all these decisions matter for my view on the world and what I choose to fight for and against.

I didn’t really begin to grapple with my privilege as a Black man until I was a student in Beverly Guy-Sheftall’s class on Black Feminism at Spelman College. I can remember rebutting each point she made about the Million Man March (MMM) as an extension of patriarchy, heteronormativity, and an attempt to further embed misogyny. Besides being a slew of words I didn’t fully understand, I could not understand why she fixated on all the “negatives” of the March. In the class, she essentially argued the MMM because of the patriarchy, etc. she could not support it and thus thought it held little value. By the time I landed in her class I was a senior at Morehouse and certainly had come to believe the MMM was one of the most transformative events I’d ever personally experienced and I refused to have the event mischaracterized.

I paraphrase, but I told her, “Yes, it does ask men to come back into the family, but it doesn’t always mean that have to be at the head. I know some talked about being at the head of the household, but not everyone believed that. We didn’t invite sisters because it was our time as Black men to redefine our commitment to the Black family and Black community.” I wanted to her to see the value of the event beyond her points. She let me finish and sagely replied, “It must be a nice privilege to tell someone to overlook the oppressive elements of a program, because it was helpful to you.” My face fell, my mouth shut, and I  sat sheepishly quiet. My head spun between realization, frustration, and confusion. For the next few classes, I sat quietly and tried to figure out how I had not “seen it coming.” I realized that the lesson I had learned on the athletic field so many times applied to social justice work, “sometimes you got to get the wind knocked out of you to bring you back to earth.”Guy-Sheftall had pointed out what I’d seen done some many times but by those who came from outside of a community to do social justice work in my community. Someone(s) coming from the outside, declaring themselves an ally and expert and overlooking the view of those who were subject to the oppression in favor of their own perspective.

The blind spots I exhibited in my conversation with Dr. Guy-Sheftall were not limited to the Million Man March and helped me to begin to grapple with other blind spots in areas of class, gender, race, sexuality, ability, and the list goes on. While I often stand with my brothers and sisters in justice struggles, I have to equally recognize when I’m standing in front of them rather than by their side of behind them. Unfortunately too few of us who are committed to social justice do this. Over the past few months I’ve had a number of conversations on my standpoint around social justice on twitter, but 140 characters of social media is too short to begin to do it justice (pun intended). About a year and half ago, I was speaking with a friend who identifies as a Black feminist and we were discussing Black feminism and the role of men. I told her I did not identify as a feminist for a number of reasons: first, I respected that many feminists had argued men could not be feminist because of our inability to completely overcome our gender privilege and stop our contribution to oppression. Second, many of the men that I’ve known who publicly identified as feminist behind closed doors used it to their advantage to carry out the same practices we critiqued as patriarchal and misogynist. Third, men who identify as feminist tended to treat it as an ascribed and static status, which meant that brothers often suggested because they could quote bell hooks or had participated in enough campaigns, circles, or conversations they had arrived at plateau, to which others must ascend. The third reason is the most crucial, we spend far too much time labeling our ideologies and activism and treating them as perfected statuses. In reality, a commitment to social justice work is constantly tested, re-evaluated, and iterative. Too often we stand on and assign labels (e.g. conscious, feminist, anti-racist, etc.) rather than doing the work that these labels imply and expanding these from labels to ideologies and actions which effectively expands their reach.

I tend to prefer to be known as an ally when working against oppression but still oppressing. To me, being an ally is about much more than advocacy on behalf of a group or interests that may not, on their face, appear to be your own. Being an ally is about a commitment to social justice grounded in an understanding of one’s self. To me, the most important element to allyhood is the ability requirement of reflexivity. First, we must interrogate our own privilege and power. Second, an ally must listen carefully to the conditions and needs of the group or individuals they are attempting to align with and define his or her work from there. Third, we must become comfortable with outsider status. It’s perfectly fine to not have full ownership of a struggle, in fact no one expects you to be a perfect proxy, but you are expected to hold your own. Fourth, we must be comfortable with being wrong and getting pushed to rethink our beliefs. Being committed to a thing does not mean you see all sides of it. We must be open to being challenged for the better. From this point, an ally can begin the work of advocating and more importantly supporting the efforts of others and themselves. If you believe in social justice work, you realize that being an ally to a cause that you don’t see “directly” affecting your life is still intimately tied to other interlocking forms of oppression. As bell hooks eloquently said:

“Feminism is not simple a struggle to end male chauvinism or a movement to ensure that women have equal rights with men; It is a commitment to eradicating the ideology of domination that permeates Western culture on various levels- sex, race, class, to name a few – and a commitment to reorganizing U.S. society so that the self- development of people can take precedence over imperialism, economic expansion and material desires.”

The reality is that the forms of oppression are related so working on them simultaneously is necessary. Of course there are issues that I have a greater commitment to, as do all of us, but through mutual support our power grows exponentially.There is no perfect formula for being an ally but those are things that I think of when engaging social justice work.

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Comments

  1. T-Boy wrote:

    …huh.

    I just say, “Feminist describes what I am. Ally describes what I must do.”

  2. jesse wrote:

    Good and honest writing, DL! I must say it was a bit surprising to see Racialicious in my feeds, with your byline and a picture of the great Bill Bailey; definitely something I would’ve better comprehended AFTER a strong coffee

  3. Deaf Indian Muslim Anarchist wrote:

    this is an excellent post. I have nothing else to add to the discussion…

  4. mizztcasa wrote:

    one of the best articles i’ve read about being an ALLY. good reflection.

  5. Jess wrote:

    Thanks for posting. I hope men who identify as feminist or allies to women will take this to heart. There are too many women I know who have been hurt by “male allies” who do not think they have done anything wrong because they have the language and perspective that is connected to the movement (and this dismisses their behaviors of sexual assault). If more men just honored the fact that they are oppressors, I would be more comfortable accepting them into my life.

  6. Stephen_A wrote:

    Thanks for an insightful post. As a white, heterosexual, able-bodied, cis-gendered man I deal with many of the same internal struggles you have highlighted. I relate to much of what you’ve written. I especially enjoyed this portion:

    “men who identify as feminist tended to treat it as an ascribed and static status, which meant that brothers often suggested because they could quote bell hooks or had participated in enough campaigns, circles, or conversations they had arrived at plateau, to which others must ascend.”

    This is worded absolutely perfectly and it’s something that I sometimes catch myself doing. Oftentimes I forget that allyship is a constant struggle of re-evaluation and that nobody, especially me, is perfect.

    Thank you again.

  7. BSK wrote:

    Thanks for this post. As a white, heterosexual male, I sometimes struggle with how to truly be an ally. It is helpful to hear the perspective of others who have experienced this struggle and glean from the wisdom you have gained. Thank you.

  8. JA wrote:

    this is a great post. As someone who is studying international development, I am constantly struggling with the questions of what it means to try to make a difference while also being in the position of a privileged westerner. I believe a lot of the same ideas apply here. Even though I am a woman I can empathize with what you are saying a great deal.

  9. four-seven wrote:

    This was a really great post! Its really interesting to see and think about the way privileged and disadvantaged statuses can coexist in the same individual. This is a really useful way of thinking about the whole person, instead of reducing someone to a 2-dimensional cut out of being either purely “oppressed” or entirely “privileged.” Most of us live in the gray area between the two, and its useful to think about what place we occupy on that continuum and what do the edges of this continuum look and feel like. Social status is not fixed, but can change over a lifetime due to political and personal events. That’s why I liked the part about rejecting labels because they enforce a false sense of stasis.

  10. Orville wrote:

    I agree and disagree with the author`s statement. I don`t believe black men we do have `privilege“ at all not when young black men are more likely to die before the age of 30. Not when black men are more likely to be in prison compared to white males. Not when black men we are discriminated against in terms of getting good paying jobs. I argue that in the workforce employers fear black men the most out of all men of colour. I also believe the employers prefer black women over black men.

    I am also a black man but I don`t feel I have `male privilege“. Yes I am male but I am also black. I also think sometimes in Women`s Studies courses the material does not explore enough how men of colour are also marginalized.

    Unlike the author I am not heterosexual I am gay so I don`t have straight privilege either.

    I am a Women`s Studies major at a Toronto university and I can say that being a male student I think I am learing a lot. I will say this one of my professors she has been very supportive of me even though I have felt marginalized by some classmates because I am male.

  11. KD wrote:

    SIGH!!! :( I have yet to ever meet either a feminist man nor a male ally of the feminist movement in flesh (plenty of the ‘opposite’ though), which close to 30 depresses the hell out of me.
    Thank you for a great article though!!! Very insightful and inspiring. (and much needed to hear some forward-looking stuff rather than back-to-the-50s from Morehouse)

  12. K.Lo wrote:

    @Orville.

    I think you just missed one of the major points of the post (and of most of the discussions had here in the past few months).

    Even though you are a member of an oppressed group there are still privileges that you can have. No one is denying that things can be tough for black men in America. The Million Man March was celebrated because it was a positive even for black men…but still it very loudly excluded women…it was something to celebrate but only if you had the privilege of being born with the correct sex. No one is saying because you could attend a march you were born with a silver spoon, these discussions are about taking off the blinders to the way that our personal privilege effects others in our fight for equality and justice.

  13. Tim A wrote:

    I’ve recently been really struggling with this same question–what it means to be an ally in women’s liberation. And it is a struggle.

    For the most part, as a white male who identifies closely with black liberation and generally works with POC-led movements, most of my comrades in the struggle come from the same perspective as Orville. Racism is number one; sexism a close second. I hear stories of black women saying to their straight, black, male partners, seeing hundreds of thousands of black men locked up in prison every day, pleading with their men, “when are YOU going to take the lead and liberate our people?” The fact is, we live in a society dominated by men (ie. patriarchy), and so, if African people want to liberate themselves, it seems strategic (given their clear socio-economic, socio-political, and socio-cultural disadvantage) that they put the focus on their men to take the lead, so as to be most effective with what they can tangibly do.

    But that is patriarchal, right? (and I don’t mean this to patronize… I’m being honest and sincere)

    So, I think my main problem is the struggle between women’s lib and black lib, and where they might come into conflict. I agree, both are important, but the economic disadvantage facing African peoples is something stemming directly from centuries of chattel slavery (an era I think white people don’t study and think about enough) and its resurgence prompted everyday in privileged white people who “choose” to struggle.

    Just some thoughts. If you asked me in five minutes, I might respond completely differently.

    Tim

  14. Nancy wrote:

    Tim,
    Don’t say something different in five minutes —I agree with you. There is a huge difference between black men standing up and taking charge of their lives/families and paternalism/sexism. For centuries, black men who were enslaved could not do so. There is nothing sexist/oppressive about them doing so now in the quest for self-liberation! You are so right — whites need to study the history of CHATTEL slavery thoroughly.