By Monica Edwards, J.D., If/When/How Reproductive Justice Fellow at URGE: Unite for Reproductive and Gender Equity
As Black History Month comes to a close, I look back on all the events that have transpired and it is clear we have a long way to go. Clearly Gucci didn’t learn from Prada’s December blackface controversy before the holidays, because not even ten days into February, Gucci launched a new sweater that was clearly blackface. After reporting a racist, homophobic, and violent attack, “Empire” star Jussie Smollett went from victim to a suspect in less than three weeks and was charged for making a false report. So, #believesurvivors when it’s white cis women, but cast doubt when the survivor is an openly gay Black man?
And then there’s Green Book. The premise of the film seems to be that a Black man can tour the Jim Crow South and all will be well as long as he has a white man to drive him. The movie won best picture at the Oscars, where judges love another story of white people coming in to save the day.
My response to that: Boy bye!
It just goes to show: Even when communities of color, and especially Black women, are thriving (see: historic Oscar wins for Regina King, Hannah Beachler, Ruth Carter, and Spike Lee) white people doing the bare minimum still get to be called “visionary” or “bold” or “progressive.” For the Black, Brown, and Queer folks in the world who have been creating artistic masterpieces, fighting for equality, justice, and freedom since oh IDK, our entire existence, we’re given terms such as “divisive” or “militant.” We see this even in the Democratic primary field, where politicians who clearly think of themselves as the consummate allies rely on privilege, power, and the white savior complex to place them as the faces of policies and campaigns that quite honestly don’t primarily affect them.
That has to stop.
Time is up for the notion that we need a friendly white face to make a real change, whether that be for art, grassroots movements, Congress, or the presidency. Allies and co-conspirators, even if they have done good work with and within communities, are simply not automatically more knowledgeable or more qualified to be positioned as the faces of our movements. It’s time to talk about stepping back.
It’s not enough to give LGBTQ+ folks or people of color a seat at the table. We should be heading the table, and pulling out chairs for our sisters, brothers, and siblings.
While our movements need white co-conspirators to put their bodies and careers on the line for racial equality, sometimes that means getting out of the way. Historical allyship — participating in marches, joining racial justice causes, even championing good legislation — doesn’t necessarily qualify someone to lead a campaign — or the nation — when they simply do not and have not experienced the effects of the issues and oppressions at the heart of the questions we need to be asking about who we are as a country going forward. It’s time to support, build, and train leaders who don’t just espouse progressive political views, but who have the lived experiences to know firsthand how politics and policy affect our real lives.
The reproductive justice movement was started by Black women to finally bring intersectionality into a movement dominated by cis-white women. Prior to this, “women’s rights” and discussing reproductive rights was talk about abortion, pay equity, and access to contraceptives. The RJ movement provided a framework and, honestly, a reality check to cis white women that these issues affected people of color, and LGBTQ+ folks in a different way. If, as a Black or Brown, or Queer person you can’t access your basic needs, and are facing discrimination on a regular basis, how can you even begin to only talk about abortion access? If you face anxiety every time you see blue lights flashing behind you, live in a food desert, or are wondering if at some point ICE will be knocking at your door, how can you work in a movement or alongside movement leaders who look at issues in a siloed way, or for whom these issues simply aren’t a fact of their daily lives?
A part of being an effective ally is knowing when to use your privilege to work for equality and equity, calling out crap when you see it, and knowing when it’s time to step back and use your privilege to elevate those who have been historically kept from spaces and positions of power. It’s not enough to give LGBTQ+ folks or people of color a seat at the table. We should be heading the table, and pulling out chairs for our sisters, brothers, and siblings.
So to the white folks in political movements, grassroots movements, law, popular culture and other spaces where marginalized groups have been deliberately left out and/or kept from taking the lead — do us all a favor: check your privilege and take a step back.
Stop speaking for historically marginalized groups. Just pass the mic.
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