A Call For Bystander Intervention To End Racism

27 02 2013

In the recent sociological blog debate on racism versus the supposed dawn of “post-racism” in America, we often touched on problems that make talking about racism difficult, if not entirely impossible.  In addition to institutional constraints, there are interpersonal factors that can derail meaningful conversations about race and racism.  In addition to calling attention to these barriers, it is important to make explicit that too few people take on this difficult task.

Responsibility For (Anti-)Racism

In general, too few people consistently assume responsibility for talking about race and racism, and fighting racism more broadly.  That kind of work is presumed to be taken on by activists and leaders of social movements.  But, in particular, the responsibility generally falls in the laps of those victimized by it — in this case, people of color.  As Jason noted in his contribution to the “post-racism” blog debate, racial and ethnic minorities generally face this burden alone.

But, people of color are neither alone in this racist society nor the creators of this system of oppression.  Whites are implicated by virtue of the benefits they receive (i.e., white privilege) from the historical legacy of racism, as well as today.  Eliminating racism, then, is just as much their responsibility, if not more, as it is for people of color.

As I re-watched a few of ABC’s “What Would You Do” social experiments regarding race and racism, I was reminded just how problematic America’s sense of responsibility for racism and anti-racism are.  While too few whites intervene when they witness racist discrimination in stores against (innocent) people of color, many seem quick to intervene to sanction Black people’s criminal behavior but not that of whites (see part 1 and part 2).  (Three young Black men sleeping in their own car got more calls to 911 than did three young white men vandalizing and breaking into someone else’s car.)

A Personal Anecdote

Racist events are plentiful, from small slights to extreme forms of violence.  So, there are too many missed opportunities to confront racism, or at least learn from these events to do things differently in the future.  One such event stands out in my own life.

At the start of my second semester of graduate school, my cohort and I sat through the beginning of our training and preparation to carry out a telephone survey on social attitudes that summer.  In talking through concerns for the project, whether we as  interviewers “talk black” was posed as a potential bias in our interviews.  It felt as though as though a grenade had gone off right in the middle of class, but we continued on ignoring it.  I thought, “was I the only one who heard that?”

This event only became an issue when my colleagues of color and I were overheard joking about the racist comment the following week.  That was brought to the attention of the professor who, out of concern, asked us whether and how to “handle” this.  Three weeks later, we finally devoted an entire two-hour class to discussing the comment about “talking black” — a phrase the professor wrote explicitly on the board to facilitate our conversation.

Of course, five minutes that felt like an eternity passed before anyone broke the thick silence that suffocated the room — it was me, naturally, in which I called attention to that deafening silence.  As the tense conversation carried on, my cohort was divided, with the students of color and anti-racist white students taking issue with the concern about “talking black,” and the rest remaining silent, or speaking up to say they did not see a problem or even recast the comment in their head so that it was not problematic.

The conversation boiled down to whether the commenter said “talking black” or talking black, where the quotation marks became the symbolic boundary between belief that there is a(n inferior) style of English unique to Black Americans and the knowledge that others believe that (but not believing it oneself).  Only a racist person would forgo the quotation marks, for this would reflect their own beliefs.

With the conversation ending with a half-ass apology from the commenter, that one’s upbringing in the Midwest should suffice as an excuse for one’s racist prejudice, we left the room more divided than ever before.  The rest of our department remained curious bystanders, but nothing more came of these events outside of the efforts of students of color to challenge racism in the department and university.

To add insult to injury, later in the semester, my colleagues of color and I overheard some of our classmates complain about the ongoing divisiveness, placing blame on us for not having gotten “over it” yet.  Their simultaneous lack of understanding and lack of sympathy only further fueled the division.  I am happy to say that a great deal has been forgiven, but one can never forget such events.  But, sadly, because little came of it, we saw yet another racist event occur years later.

A Call For Bystander Intervention

I, as others before me, call for a bystander intervention approach to ending racism.  Too often, individuals not directly involved in a dangerous or difficult scenario — or bystanders — simply stand-by and watch without intervening to provide help.  As such, in the case of the prevention of sexual violence (since this “bystander effect” was coined after no one intervened in the brutal rape and murder of Kitty Genovese), advocates have strongly emphasized the need to turn bystanders into potential interveners – “bystander intervention.“  Applied to racism, this means that individuals are called to action to intervene if they witness racist discrimination, bullying, or violence.

However, I push this anti-racist bystander intervention one step further beyond intervening in difficult situations.  Similar to my calls for bystander intervention to prevent sexual violence (i.e., rape, sexual assault, sexual harassment), I stress that our anti-racist work must include a sense that racism is a community issue and, as such, anti-racism is a community responsibility.

Ways To Intervene

A related aspect is noting that racism exists at multiple levels and, as such, there are an infinite number of ways in which we can fight it:

  1. One can intervene when they witness racist discrimination or harassment.  Of course, this depends upon a number of factors that make this easier said than done.  And, no one should intervene in ways that place them at risk for getting hurt.  If it is a scenario of extreme violence, like a racially-motivated hate crime, a safe means of intervening may be to call the police.  If it is an instance of the unfair firing of a Latina coworker, you could approach your supervisor to note that you feel your coworker deserves a second chance.
  2. Challenge racist prejudice.  This can entail calling people out who appear to harbor prejudice toward people of color, or hold misguided stereotypes.  It also means calling out offensive comments that others’ may make about racial and ethnic minorities.
  3. Challenge yourself.  No matter one’s racial or ethnic background, and one’s racial ideology, no one is immune to the pervasive poison of racism.  It is important to also check your own biases and actions.  Do you seek out friends of the same race?  Do you avoid “that part of town”?  Do you do certain things, at least in part, to avoid appearing racist?
  4. Educate yourself.  Unfortunately, most Americans leave formal education knowing little about racism and the history and experiences of people of color beyond obligatory coverage during Black History Month.  To push beyond this, one can take the time to learn more (even from March to January).  Read books about and by people of color.  Go see films on historical and contemporary accounts of the lives of racial and ethnic minorities.  Visit museums that feature exhibits on race and ethnicity.  Become comfortable talking about race and racism with the people around you, no matter their race and ethnicity.
  5. Support victims of racist prejudice, discrimination, and violence.  As I wrote the first suggestion, I realized that there are so many concerns that one may have in directly challenging racist actions.  But, there are fewer concerns regarding harm in supporting victims of these actions.  Though your supervisor who unfairly fired your Latina coworker very well could threaten you, as well, you are freer to reach out to your coworker.  See if she wants to talk, needs help finding a new job, or even filing a discrimination or EEO complaint.  Even outside of severe instances of racist acts, you can be a supportive ally by really hearing people out when they reveal their experiences to you (rather than blaming them or encouraging them to think of alternative reasons for those acts).
  6. Challenge racist practices of organizations and institutions.  Though the days of overt racist laws and policies are mostly gone, there are still many — albeit neutral in intention and language — that disproportionately harm people of color.  It is important to challenge these, just as it is to challenge racism at the individual-level.  Maybe you can speak up if your workplace implements a dress-code policy that unfairly targets racial and ethnic minorities.  Take action to prevent the efforts to repeal Affirmative Action and other policies that aim to redress racial inequality.  Educate yourself and others about how new policies or policy change can contribute to racial equality, even if they are not targeted solely toward people of color (e.g., Affordable Care Act).

Concluding Thoughts

Obviously, everyone cannot become leaders of social movements like Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. or lead deadly anti-racist efforts like abolitionist John Brown or the slain Mississippi civil rights workers.  Most of us are not lifelong activists.

But, there are many opportunities throughout a given day to make a difference, no matter how small.  For, even small acts add up to a big contribution to challenge prejudice and stereotypes, educate oneself and others, end racist discrimination and violence, and promote racial diversity and equality.  Just as we are all implicated in racism, it will take all of us to end it.





The Curious Case Of “Evolving” On LGBT Rights

11 01 2013

Outside of conversations about science and technology, we rarely make reference to something or someone “evolving.” So, it struck me as odd when we celebrated that President Barack Obama’s views on same-gender marriage were “evolving” last summer.  I thought this might be the product of odd phrasing, and decide to focus on the significance of his support rather than the language used.

I have since seen this phrasing a few more times, including an article posted yesterday at The Advocate magazine about Atlanta Mayor Kasim Reed.  He has been criticized for “flip-flopping” in his views on marriage equality; but, the Mayor insists that he has actually “evolved.”  That leaves me to wonder why such language is used, and what is actually meant by “evolving” on the rights of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people.  I propose three possibilities:

  1. Change: To “evolve” on LGBT rights simply means to change.  I suppose saying that attitudes “shift” leaves too much possibility for them to shift back; for them to “evolve” may imply a shift that is permanent or at least very difficult to undo.
  2. Slow change: For some, particularly politicians, “evolving” on LGBT rights is a way to signal change that will occur slowly and incrementally.  It may be politically unwise to create drastic changes overnight, especially for an issue as divisive and contentious as LGBT equality.  For President Obama, his evolution may be promising enough to pro-LGBT voters and donors, yet slow and incremental enough to avoid losing anti-LGBT voters and donors.  Indeed, he was successfully re-elected this past November.
  3. Advancing: Finally, some may use the term “evolve” to reference a shift to a more advanced state of being.  To support LGBT rights, particularly marriage equality, is to be an enlightened individual that believes in equality, civil liberties, and democracy.

Obama's Evolution

Ironically, less than half of adults in the US believe in the theory of evolution; so I hesitate to believe that most who allude to evolution imply the third meaning when speaking about LGBT rights.  However, for some time, Black Americans have been stereotyped as conservative, maybe even “unevolved,” on LGBT rights.  This seemed especially heightened after the split in America over same-gender marriage shifted to majority support.  Thus, despite the persistence of homophobia in America, opposition to LGBT rights is deemed as a primitive position.

Of course, I am not arguing that this terminology — evolved, evolving, and evolution — is exclusively used in reference to LGBT rights.  But, I have observed a consistent, frequent use of the term over the past few years.  Unfortunately, I do not have more to offer beyond this anecdote!





How To Derail The Push For Equal Rights: Talk About Sex!

4 11 2012

Man entering women’s restroom.

“We just plain don’t like ‘em!” would be a difficult argument to sell as grounds to oppose equal rights and protection under the law for a marginalized group — and, this especially true in this era of supposed “political correctness,” “color-blindness,” and “post-racial”ness.  As such, opponents of equality must find more palpable reasons to either prevent the enshrining of equality into law or to strip away existing civil rights laws.

A few anti-equality strategies have existed for what seems forever:

  • Spread prejudice like a contagious virus!  Essentially — in the example of race — convince the white majority that people of color are inferior, whether it be due to biology, education, or culture, thus deeming them worthy of unequal treatment.
  • Selectively cite passages from the Bible!  Whether you want to justify the continuance of enslaving an entire race of people, or oppose interracial marriage or same-gender marriage, or maintain arbitrary restrictions on when and who can have sex, simply flip through the Bible (note: other religious texts do not seem to carry the same weight) until you find a passage that can be interpreted to support the status quo.  Or, if you are really gutsy, you can just make something up, like blaming lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people for natural disasters that affect everyone, including heterosexuals and cisgender people!
  • Pit marginalized groups against one another!  Want to really distract the majority from the problematic position of opposing equal rights?  One sure way to mix things up is to pretend to care about the well-being of a minority group, and suggest that granting more, “special” (i.e., undeserved) rights to one marginalized group threatens those of another.  A great example is the on-going effort to demonize Black Americans as a bigoted, uneducated mass that blindly follows religion in opposing the legalization of same-gender marriage.  Clearly, they are so behind the times, in this overwhelmingly LGBT-friendly nation!  This strategy is great because you can restrict the rights of one group while demonizing the other, or even convince the majority that the latter group has achieved full equality.

Scare Them With Sex

Hope is a great way to motivate and inspire a mass.  It worked for gay activist Harvey Milk, and it sure seemed to work to elect President Barack Obama.  Arguably, on the other side of the coin of hope is fear.  What better way is there to get people stirred up about something than to make them feel threatened.  And, if you really want to stall social progress, toss in some element of sex: promiscuity, teen pregnancies, sexual violence, pedophilia, pre- or extra-marital sex, sex work, etc.

Scholars who study how some matter related to sex is used as a fear tactic have called this “sex panic.”  That is, some sexual issue is argued to threaten the smooth functioning of society.  In many ways, the issue — say, comprehensive sexuality education in public schools — is intentionally shrouded by myths, stereotypes, biased or falsified research, and is often used to oppose or at least stall movement on a particular social or political issue.  Sometimes, the sexual issue is not even centrally related to the key issue being debated.  Here is a recent example:

Beware: Male Rapists Pretending To Be Transwomen!

Do you oppose the legal protection of transgender individuals from discrimination?  Hmm, well — one potential distraction is to draw on the cisgender majority’s fears of (cis)women helplessly being raped, and occasionally toss in some panic about pedophilia and threats to children’s sexual virtue.  Ongoing at Evergreen College:

“The decision to allow a transgender 45-year-old college student who identifies as a woman but has male genitalia to use the women’s locker room has raised a fracas among  parents and faith-based organizations, who say children as young as 6 years old use the locker room.”

This also has an element of pitting groups against one another.  Do we want to protect transpeople from discrimination, or do we want to protect (cis)women and children from sexual violence?

There are so many problems with this logic… where do I begin?  First, I will note that it is interesting that we go from protecting transpeople from discrimination in employment, public accommodations, and so forth, to concerns about the bathroom, nudity, and sex.  This stems from the real concerns that transpeople are frequently subject to discrimination, harassment, and violence — even in the bathroom!  Yet, ironically, the debates have flipped concern for the well-being of a marginalized group to concern for the protection of the privileged majority from the minority group.  The threatened has become a threat; the victim has become the victimizer.  This makes me think of one of my favorite lines from the 2007 remake of Hairspray:

Penny Pingleton, a young white girl (Amanda Bynes): I’m very pleased and scared to be here.

Motormouth Maybell, a middle-aged Black woman (Queen Latifah): Now, honey, we got more reason to be scared on your street.

Second, there is some effort to confuse the boundaries of who falls into the minority group, and who to the majority group.  Despite the challenges around accepting one’s (trans)gender identity, and to publicly acknowledging one’s identity, gender identity is talked about as an elective, easily moveable boundary.  So simple, a man could dress in feminine attire and freely use women’s facilities.  Somehow, transmen are erased from the conversation, and we reinforce the notion of males as natural rapist and females as natural victims.  And, transwomen continue to remain outside of the category of women; when we speak of concerns about women being raped in the bathroom, we only mean “real,” cisgender women.

Third, the rhetoric of rapists posing as women perpetuates the myth of the stranger lurking behind the bush, waiting to leap out and assault a helpless, unsuspecting victim.  Though most survivors of sexual violence know the perpetrator as romantic partners, relatives, friends, coworkers, etc., many carry an image of a mysterious, masked perpetrator, in this case, going to the lengths of dressing in feminine attire to prey on girls and women.

Fourth, bodies are conflated with sex, and sex is perpetually conflated with risk and danger.  In this case of the locker room at Evergreen College, complaints were made that girls saw a transwoman’s penis.  Okay?  And, I am sure they also see other women’s genitals, as well.  They have also seen women’s — cis and trans included — feet, hair, backs, arms, faces, and so on.  Clearly, genitals stand out as especially sexualized and provocative.  And, because we are talking about sex, we are worried about the harm it may cause — even outside of sexual violence.

Of course, sex panics are not limited to efforts to oppose equal rights and protections for transgender and genderqueer people.  The supposed concerns of gay men raping heterosexual men were often raised, or at least alluded to, from those who opposed repealing the US military’s ban on open LGBT servicepeople.  There is a long history of painting Black men as sexual predators who threaten the well-being and sexual virtue of white women — a viscous myth used to justify segregation, banning interracial marriage, and grounds to execute Black men through lynching based on lies or questionable evidence of a crime.  And, we continue to see myths shroud effective discussions about reproductive rights (especially abortion) and sexuality education in schools, namely by drawing forward concerns of sexual “irresponsibility” (i.e., promiscuity, unintended pregnancies, teen mothers).

Moving Forward: Education And Accountability

I will not attempt to provide a solution for ceasing the effective use of sex panics to derail equality.  But, there are some things that would be extremely helpful to move in that direction.  First, it is important that we take responsibility for educating ourselves.  This means taking the time to learn about the issue at hand in full.  In less than 24 hours, many voters around the country will be deciding whether to legalize same-gender marriage, bar public funding for abortion services, and eliminate Affirmative Action policies.

Rather than only hearing some of the overly-dramatic, often bigoted perspectives that call to deny marriage equality or rollback government initiatives to support women’s reproductive health and the equal opportunities for people of color, I would encourage taking a moment to find out what is really at stake.  Whether or not same-gender couples can get legally married has no bearing on the lives and relationships of heterosexual people — so, what will opposing it do?  Defunding Planned Parenthood would severely constrict its abortion services, but it also will constrain its resources and services for other aspects of sexual and reproductive health; further, only a small portion of PP’s budget goes to abortion services.  And, the sad reality is that doing away with abortion all together will not eliminate abortion — just access to safe, legal abortion services.  Affirmative Action — a policy that aims to redress the history of racist and sexist oppression in the US and promote equal opportunities — in its current, scaled down form, primarily serves to make hiring and admissions practices transparent and highlight the importance of taking into consideration a candidate’s background.  Doing away with the policy eliminates what little inequality-conscious practices exist in jobs and education.

I would also suggest that we must do a better job holding politicians, religious leaders, celebrities, and so forth accountable for the tactics they use to advocate certain causes.  It almost appears that little recourse exists, besides talk, for advancing lies, myths, stereotypes, and bigotry.  Though, for example, the Republican party may be slightly hurt in terms of votes and donations by their ongoing War on Women, many like Todd Akin continue on in their position.  It seems it is only when they are the subject of sex panics (i.e., sex scandals) that they are either forced out of their position or voluntarily step down from it.  Or, as many say, “no one died when Clinton lied,” referencing former President Bill Clinton’s extramarital affairs, leading to a Republican-led effort to impeach him from office.  Yet, his successor, George W. Bush, attempted to enshrine homophobic discrimination into the US Constitution, and failed to provide urgent aid following Hurricanes Katrina and Rita because of the large disadvantaged Black population in affected areas.  So long as we vote for and financially support leaders who lie and recycle tired stereotypes and myths, they stay in power.

Other than self-education and holding leaders accountable — Vote!  And, please keep these things in mind when you do.





The Importance Of Representation: Voice, Visibility, And Validation In America

24 09 2012

For one obvious reason, disadvantaged groups are often called “minorities” — the groups are smaller in size than another group.  In this sense, people of color (or racial and ethnic minorities) and lesbian, gay, and bisexual people (or sexual minorities) are numerical minorities.  However, these groups, as well as women, are also minorities by virtue of having less power in society than their majority counterparts: whites, heterosexuals, and men.  Unfortunately, this latter point is often forgotten; look, for example, at the hope that racial equality will be realized once people of color outnumber whites in the US.  Indeed, the history of Apartheid in South Africa serves as evidence that a group’s minority status in terms of power is not the mere product of being a numerical minority.

Minority Status: The Roles Of Size And Power

The size of a minority group is an important component that plays a role in shaping the experiences of minority group members.  In particular, by virtue being a member of a smaller group, minority group members theoretically have a lower chance of seeing other minority group members across various contexts.  Whereas non-Hispanic whites make up two-thirds of the US population, white people have the greatest chance of any racial or ethnic group of seeing other white individuals at work, the grocery store, church, on the street, at the doctor’s office, and so forth.  In these terms, women and men have roughly the same chance of seeing other women and men, respectively.

However, the unequal allocation of power, resources, and opportunities also plays a role in shaping minority and majority group members’ experiences.  In terms of gender, despite slightly outnumbering men in the US, women are often underrepresented in many contexts.  Take as a very important example the US Congress: there are 76 congress women in the US House of Representatives (compared to 362 men), and 17 in the US Senate (compared to 83 men).  Do the math.  Women make up roughly 50 percent of the US population, yet only 17 percent of congresspeople are women!  Though 10 percent of congresspeople in the House are Black, not a single member of the US Senate is Black.  Indeed, other factors play roles in the outcomes of elections, including — I add emphatically — prejudice and discrimination.  But, it is safe to say that something other than a numbers game is at play when there is such a stark underrepresentation of women and people of color in one of the most important institutions in this country.

Representation: Why Group Composition Matters

There are a host of reasons why the extent to which a subgroup is represented matters.  Continuing with the example of the gender and racial and ethnic composition of the US Congress, it is important to note that the House and Senate, with their underrepresentation of women and people of color, is making important decisions that impact the lives of every person in the US.  So, two groups that consists primarily of white middle-class heterosexual men — many whom are only interested in the needs and desires of other white wealthy heterosexual men — are making decisions right at this moment on behalf of people of color, working-class and poor people, LGBT people, women, and other disadvantaged groups.  In fact, the leadership of every organization and institution in the US — most which are also dominated by white heterosexual middle-class men — is making decisions as I write this post that impacts the lives of every person of every race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, and class-standing.  Indeed, the decisions these individuals are making has great influence in guaranteeing that the next generation of leaders will also be white middle-class heterosexual men.

So, in a big way, what a group produces is shaped by the composition of the group.  Since individuals can only truly speak from their own experiences, the contributions of women and people of color systematically excluded from important decision-making processes.  But, the composition of a group also shapes the interactions among the groups’ members.  For example, a recent study on the gender composition of small groups found that the presence of fewer women is associated with less contribution from women group members:

When voting by majority decision, women deferred speaking if outnumbered by men in a group.  However, when voting unanimously, the researchers found that women were much more vocal , suggesting that consensus building was empowering for outnumbered women. The researchers also found that groups arrived at different decisions when women did participate. These findings, however, are not simply limited to business settings.

In this case, when women are underrepresented in a group, especially where reaching a consensus is the primary goal of the group, they are less likely to contribute to group decision-making.  And, the group loses out on what could be a unique contribution and voice not offered by male group members.  Because so many important, powerful groups include few or no women, the contribution of women is systematically excluded in important decision-making.  I would say the most shameful of these exclusions is the absence of women in important conversations about women’s health (e.g., contraception for women!).

Unfortunately, it seems that the challenges that arise from being a member of a minority group are sometimes exacerbated when one is also in the numerical minority in a group.  I would suggest one factor that contributes to women’s underparticipation in groups that are dominated by men is the stress associated with being the token woman. Social scientists, including professors Cate Taylor , Pamela Braboy Jackson, and Peggy Thoits, in Sociology at Indiana University, have examined the stressfulness (and resultant problems for health) of being “the only X” or token in groups and organizations that are heavily white and/or male.  The uneasiness one may experience as the token woman, token Latino person, or token lesbian, can contain so many different concerns and feelings, ranging from the discomfort of always being evaluated as a woman, Latina, or lesbian, to the discomfort of feeling that one is perceived as speaking on behalf of their entire group, to feeling that one has to contribute the perspective of a member of one’s group.  I can think of many discussions where I have been overwhelmed by anxiety that stemmed from being the only person of color or queer person present or, more often, from feeling the urgent need to interject that the group has systematically overlooked the importance of race, sexuality, and/or gender.

Seeing Yourself

The importance of representation extends beyond small groups and decision-making processes.  The visibility of minorities in the media is an extremely important arena of representation, one that has been extensively studied and debated.  For example, each year the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) analyzes the representation of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people in film and television each year.  The positive portrayal of women, people of color, immigrants, LGBT people, same-gender couples, interracial couples, working-class people, people with disabilities, fat people, and so on is crucial so that people are aware of diversity, but also appreciate and celebrate that diversity.

Specifically for the members of minority groups, seeing oneself reflected in the media is crucial, particularly in the face of prejudice, discrimination, and the constant barrage of invalidating comments and actions.  In fact, there was a recent study featured in the media this summer that finds evidence of a self-esteem boosting effect of television for white boys, but self-esteem damaging effects for white girls, black girls, and black boys.  One primary reason?  White boys see lots of white boys and men in the shows they watch.  And, not just that, but they regularly see these characters and actors in positive, powerful, and central roles.  This is less so the case for other kids.

Though less frequent for members of minority groups, to see a face or body that looks like your own is powerful in its effect to simply validate you as a worthy human being.  I can think of the range of emotions I saw or heard about in people of color, especially Black Americans, when President Barack Obama was elected in 2008.  Some had tears streaming down their faces simply because they were overwhelmed with joy, hope, and likely some sense of relief.  I am not ashamed to admit that I get this feeling in terms of race and ethnicity in the media, but also sexuality.  To not only see LGBT people on my television screen — again, I emphasize positive portrayals — but to see them loved by others, or in love, is sometimes emotionally overwhelming because these images are new to me.  I am disappointed, however, that I have to feel such joy just to see someone who looks like me — a joy whites, men, heterosexuals, and other privileged groups do not experience because their representation is the norm and, as a result, their presence is treated as the default.

Though things have changed, and are continuing to change, there is still much work to be done until we stop seeing systematic underrepresentation and hearing about “the First African-American X” or “the First Woman to Y.”





Is There A Double Standard For Homophobia?

31 01 2012

Black lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people exist.  Black same-gender couples exist.  Black heterosexual and cisgender allies to the LGBT community exist.  However, the way that race and sexual orientation, race and gender identity, race and bi/homophobia, and race and transphobia are talked about, it almost seems as if LGBT and Black are mutually exclusive.  And, to be more specific, they are at odds with one another.

Black people who are homo/bi/transphobic exist, too.  But, somehow, the US seems fixated on the anti-LGBT prejudice harbored by Black communities as if such sentiments exist in a vacuum.  That is, we discuss “black homophobia” as a social problem, while, of course, acknowledging “homophobia” as a social problem.  Notice here that we do not hear of explicit concern about “white homophobia.”  Why?

An Example: Prop 8 In California, 2008

Let’s take an example.  Prop 8.  In 2008, the state of California successfully passed an amendment to ban the legal recognition of same-sex marriage.  While the entire nation witnessed history with the election of the first (half-)Black president, the US also took one step back by stripping one of the few states with marriage equality of legal same-sex marriage.  Now, over three years later, legal challenges to Prop 8 are working their way up the judicial branch.

Immediately following the passage of Prop 8, many in LGBT communities, the media, politicians, and others engaged in a blame-game, pointing a finger squarely at Black Californians for the amendment’s success.  Initially, results from the California exist polls suggested that a larger proportion of Black voters voted in favor of banning same-sex marriage relative to voters of other races.  Corrected analyses were released later, indicating that Black voters were no more likely than any other racial or ethnic group to vote in favor of Prop 8.  More importantly, Blacks only represented 6 percent of all voters in California in 2008; even if every Black voter voted in favor of the ban, that 6 percent cannot be fairly held accountable for the entire 51 percent that voted in favor of Prop 8.  But, despite what the numbers say, some were quite hostile toward Blacks in the US, even resorting to racist assaults.

A Double Standard For Prejudice?

Why was it so easy to blame a fraction of the population for the majority’s decision to deny marriage equality in California?  Why did our attention focus on homophobia in Black communities, while failing to ask about homophobia in the US and, more specifically, homophobia in white communities?  And, why were we so angry with Black homophobes (and, at times, all Black people), but not so much white homophobes?

I argue that the answer is a double standard for homophobia.  At the root of the angry reaction toward Black voters who favored the passage of Prop 8 is confusion.  We are confused by what seems to be an oxymoron: a prejudiced minority, the oppressive oppressed, and so on.  We cannot seem to understand how one group, still facing the contemporary remnants of a history of enslavement, exclusion, discrimination, and violence, can harbor prejudice and discrimination against another, marginalized group.  The logic would seem that, given Blacks’ own experiences with prejudice, discrimination, and violence, they should be empathetic toward the plight of LGBT communities due to their exposure with prejudice, discrimination, and violence.

While the logic of empathy makes sense on the surface, it creates five problems (of likely a few others):

  1. It makes invisible the anti-LGBT prejudice, discrimination, and violence of whites.  Though we single-out Blacks when we express our concern about homophobia in Black communities, whites are invisible as a specific racial group in larger discussions of homophobia.  And, it begs the question, should we expect whites to be homo/bi/transphobic?
  2. It holds Blacks to a different standard than whites.  Thus, LGBT- and non-LGBT people alike scrutinize the positions and actions of Black communities and organizations regarding gender and sexuality.  In the aftermath of Prop 8, LGBT and cisgender heterosexuals criticized Blacks in California for their contribution to the passage of Prop 8.
  3. It leads us to overlook the alliances between Black and LGBT communities and organizations, and the positive steps that Black people have taken to fight for the equal rights of LGBT people.
  4. It keeps invisible Black LGBT people.  In discussing whether Blacks are homophobic, we fail to acknowledge that some Black people are LGBT, have friends who are LGBT, and who have relatives who are LGBT.  Unfortunately, predominantly-heterosexual Black communities, predominantly-white LGBT communities, and society in general are responsible for maintaining an image of Black as straight and gay as white.
  5. It fails to ask about racism in LGBT communities.  Even with some obviously racially motivated anger directed at Black communities by LGBT people following Prop 8, there was little explicit discussion about the racist prejudice, discrimination, and violence perpetrated by LGBT people.

Let’s Look More Broadly

Frankly, the social science research on racial and ethnic differences in attitudes toward LGBT people, same-gender relationships, and homo/bisexuality is mixed; but, the tendency seems to be, once you have accounted for racial differences in religiosity and education, you see little racial difference in these attitudes and, for some matters (e.g., LGBT rights), you actually see more favorable attitudes among Blacks compared to whites.  But, that is missed in a narrow focus on homophobia among Blacks.  The larger point that is missed is that Blacks, like whites, are socialized in a society that stigmatizes LGBT people.  Period.  Thus, all people, regardless of race and ethnicity, are implicated in the maintenance or elimination of homo/bi/transphobia.  Though one might be sympathetic, or even empathetic, to the plight of other marginalized groups, one’s own marginalized status does not make one automatically an ally.

Another point that is often overlooked is the sneaky (and not-so-sneaky) efforts of white, cisgender, heterosexual men to pit Black and LGBT communities against one another.  A recent example of such “divide and conquer” strategizing is not as subtle as other conservative politicians and religious leaders’ efforts:

Edwin O’Brien, Baltimore’s soon-to-be Cardinal, used a speech this week to denounce marriage rights for Maryland’s gay and lesbian couples. He angrily attacked the pending passage of marriage bills in the House and Senate. Maryland’s Governor, Martin O’Malley, is a strong supporter of marriage equality and he helped to introduce the bills this past Tuesday.  On Wednesday, O’Brien put his own spin on one of the most heinous arguments put forth by social and religious conservatives — that gay people’s civil rights are an affront to black people and the rights of black people.

For all of these reasons, it is important that we regularly acknowledge the intersections among race, ethnicity, gender, and sexuality.  What are the unique experiences of individuals who are marginalized on more than one of these axes?  Where are opportunities for coalition-building across marginalized and privileged communities?  And, as my last point suggested, how the intersections of these systems manipulated for gain?  Obviously, these are difficult questions, but important nonetheless.