[Edited to remove disclaimer and blog cut.]<\/p>\n
Ilyka Damen recently left blogging.<\/p>\n
Not long ago, she put up a post about how difficult it can be to act honestly as a white anti-racist. Systemically, this society is set up to bolster racism. It does not like people who fight against it.<\/p>\n
That’s not to say that white people who want to be anti-racist have it easier<\/s> harder [damn copy editing…] than black people. Clearly, that’s not the case. But I was interested in Ilyka’s acknowledgement that truly trying to be an ally to non-white folk will mean that one has to deal with criticism, and the loss of friends — even lefty friends who are more attached to their privilege to justice.<\/p>\n
I’ve had the experience several times now of watching feminist discussions go down the racist toilet. Sometimes I have this sensation of standing next to some train tracks, watching the comment thread hurtle toward a mountain<\/a>. “No!” I want to cry to certain white feminists. “Stop it, stop it, Oh, God, don’t say that…”<\/p>\n Inevitably, the train crashes.<\/p>\n I have this weird sense of twinned consciousness when I read those threads, because I feel like I can forecast the certain white feminists’ half of the script. Well, part of that’s because the script of racism is depressingly predictable. But it’s also because I know what I might have said five years ago<\/i>. Oh, I probably wouldn’t have said it as publicly, or vehemently, but the thoughts certainly would have been there.<\/p>\n And, when the white feminists are slapped down, they metaphorically stand there with their hands clapped to their faces, their eyes huge with shock. Because how, why? What happened? What did I do wrong? I was trying to be nice! Why are black people so angry?<\/p>\n I recall that dislocated sense of confusion. The feeling of not knowing where I stood, or what drove the anger. Black anti-racists felt scary and feral and unpredictable. I understood that they were not scary and feral and unpredictable, and so I tended to stand back and shut up, but I still didn’t *understand*. I remember once crying because I didn’t understand something that Nubian said, and I wanted to so much, but the lightbulbs just didn’t go off.<\/p>\n And it’s not that all my lightbulbs are lit now or anything, but I tend to understand when black feminists are going to get mad, and why they’re mad. More than that, I get mad, too. I’m sure it’s a ghost of the anger that people who suffer the injustice feel, but it’s real anger.<\/p>\n Often, I haven’t been a very good ally. I don’t always fight. I don’t fight as hard as I can. I get distracted by other things. I am still lacking in many a clue.<\/p>\n But it seemed to me that in her last few posts, Ilyka was posting some things about working against racism that were fiery, and startling, and cathartic, and scary, and right. I had a sense of cleansing when I was reading her posts, the way I do sometimes when I read Twisty on I Blame the Patriarchy — a sense that the writer had, through anger, dissolved the clouding veils. To me, it seemed that she was finding some important truths.<\/p>\n I keep wanting to describe Ilyka as having been “on fire.” Maybe that analogy is too apt. The posts she was writing were brilliant, but not pleasant. Her words were necessary, but it can’t be enjoyable to be alight with them. She flared, and she’s burned out.<\/p>\n Much of feminist and anti-racist blogging seems to be about the realization and refocusing of unpleasant truths. News-oriented posts seem easier to take, with their easy, story-like narrative. Of course, I feel rage when I hear about the Indiana man who was beaten to death for being gay. But there seems, to me, to be a deeper kind of despair to uncovering the systemic cultural truths that underly patriarchy and white supremacy, because they underscore not just the horror of specific events, but an enduring horror that promises those events will keep on happening.<\/i><\/p>\n There’s hope in activism. There’s hope in a lot of things. There is even a strange kind of hope in seeing how embedded racism and sexism are in American minds, which is why I Blame the Patriarchy is full of black humor.<\/p>\n But there are walls, too. I’d like to thank those people who have spent their time identifying those walls — Ilyka, Nubian. Trying to see clearly seems to come with a high cost.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" [Edited to remove disclaimer and blog cut.] Ilyka Damen recently left blogging. Not long ago, she put up a post about how difficult it can be to act honestly as a white anti-racist. Systemically, this society is set up to … Continue reading