Layers of privilege, and the word "bitch"

Ok so there's a little story that's been stuck in my head. It's the story of how I got from a point of being defensive about my act of cultural appropriation, to realization, understanding, and gratitude to the people who were calling me out. 

Nobody is asking me for this post, but it's stuck in my head and I gotta get it out.  Because there's a lot of white people out there who just don't understand and I haven't been brave enough to go and bring up this conversation with them, like,

 "Hey, you remember when I was doing that art project, and we talked about it, and we were both like, 'naw, dude, that's totally fine.' Yeah, remember that? Well just so you know, it actually wasn't fine."

I haven't been brave enough, because the reaction I expect to get from many is basically this: "What? No, you're crazy!" Because the thing I wasn't brave enough to do in the first place was to ignore all of those other privileged white people who gave me all sorts of layers of excuses, and I wanted to hang onto the threads of approval from the few indigenous people who thought it was fine, who liked the art, who appreciated all of my consideration.

So in the first place, if it is a grey area, it was never my place to argue the nuances of it.  That discussion belongs to the people whose culture I was appropriating. As a white lady with privilege, looking for ways to proactively de-construct and de-program my white privilege, it's my job to respect and uphold the most sensitive interpretation of that boundary.

And here's why: (bear with me, it's a story) 
In the midst of my defensiveness, while I was spending a few days indulging in emotive petulance - even at the height of my self-justification - I just kept having flashes of the feelings I get when I try to call out dudes for various versions of sexism and male privilege, and the way they brush me off, all defensive and like, 

"Naw, I'm not sexist, you're being over sensitive."

And I thought about how shitty and shut-down that makes me feel. I thought about the nauseating punched-in-the-gut-feeling I get whenever I hear someone (of any gender) use the word "bitch" as an insult or negative curse.  And I do hear it, OFTEN.  And every time I hear someone say it, it hurts. 

[I am skipping the work of explaining why "bitch" is such a hurtful word to me, but a friend and blogger has eloquently explained it in detail here "On the Word Bitch". I highly recommend her writing.]

I usually don't call men out on using the word "bitch". Because telling a man that he is sexast is a scary thing to do. Because they get all angry and threatening, like, "What??? What the fuck are you talking about?"  Or are supremely dismissive, which is often much worse. I don't usually put the effort into checking someone unless I am fond of them and feel like I have some investment in my friendship with them. I don't put the effort into checking people unless I have already have some respect for them.

And the thing is, that's often when it hurts the most to be dismissed. Some crotchety old dude who mostly spends time immersed in violent male culture of some sort, like, say the construction industry (a violent male space I have way too much experience in)... I don't have a lot of expectations.  A guy like that uses the word "bitch" and it's easier to brush it off.  But when some liberal, perhaps an activist guy, perhaps someone I think of as an ally... someone I feel safe around... bandies about this word... well that especially stings. Or this dude talks over me in a conversation, or ignores my opinions in deference to some other dude, or wants to hit on me or flirt with me in "professional" space, or say something about my appearance and be all like, "what, it's just a compliment, can't I give you a compliment?" 

When a guy who I think I can feel SAFE around exhibits some sexist thing... I think: ok, well I'm friends with this guy, that means it's safe for me to check him. It's safe for me to say, "Hey, I think you're being kinda sexist there." And I hope he'll respond like, "oh thanks for letting me know, I didn't realize that was a thing". 

But more likely, the response is something like, "Phfffff.  Whatever, you're just being oversensitive." [insert dudely diatribe about the feminist conspiracy to disempower men].  And very rarely do I respond further.  I usually don't argue much, I just mutter something like, "huh, your experience of reality is different from mine..." and let it go. 

Because I don't feel safe. Being shot down once, I'm not likely to put myself out there and push the issue. Partly, that's just me... direct conflict is intensely difficult for me to deal with. A lot of that is Seattle's passive-aggressive culture... a culture of avoiding direct conflict.  'Cause let's face it: white people [the dominant culture of wealth and privilege] in Seattle seriously cannot handle direct conflict.  We'll do almost anything to avoid it.

Another layer is my conditioning as a woman - conditioning that tells me to Always Be Nice, Don't Make Other People Feel Bad, Your Opinion Is Less Important Than Other People's Feelings. Conditioning that perpetuates the sexist programming that makes those guys think it's okay for them to insult each other with the word "bitch", or to refer to some fierce person who intimidates them, or whom they want to belittle. 

[Here there could be a whole separate blog post about aggressive male conditioning giving men permission to make other people feel uncomfortable all the time... rewarding them for imposing their thoughts, opinions, dominance on others... I don't quite have time here.  But this other lady wrote a great post about it...]

And then there's the further layers of hurt and betrayal I feel when I hear women use the word as a negative insult... and it can be so much harder to call them on it, because they often feel entitled, or they've internalized so much oppression and sexism, that they're even more dismissive of the conversation than men are.

Anyways... me and my passive-aggressive self don't generally push it much.  If I do call someone on sexist language or behavior and it's batted down, I usually don't have the energy to counter. I shut down. I feel a little less safe around that person.  I close myself off and share myself less.  I may still be friendly, but I'm usually less excited about trying to hang out with them.  I certainly don't allow them into my sacred space.  I trust them less. 

And maybe that dude is on their own time, doing their own work. Maybe they did hear my words, but they weren't brave enough to acknowledge it in front of the other dudes... maybe they'll come around to the realization slowly... but by the time they do, I've already felt shut down... I've already decided that I'm not as excited as I thought I was about being friends with them... I still trust them less.

So I thought about all of this. And I thought about all of the people who were writing angry comments about how much bullshit I was perpetrating making dreamcatchers.  "It seems like a grey area..." "I think I'm being respectful..." and a whole bunch of people said,

"Oh hell no. You are in, fact, being a privileged white jerk." 

And at first I got defensive, at first I started to say, "well actually, no, it's fine, and let me explain to you why..." which is exactly what dudes do when I tell them I think they're being sexist and they try to explain to me when and where it is appropriate for me to feel offended... they try to define my experience... And you know what?  No one gets to define my experience but ME. 

I realized, "Oh shit, I'm doing the same thing that those privileged sexist dudes do. I'm doing it to these people of color and indigenous people. Huh. No wonder they're pissed off at me..."

I am learning... I am a slow learner.  De-programming my white middle-class privilege is an act no less profound than dismantling and re-assembling the fabric of my own reality. It can be destabilizing. It is pretty scary [where there is fear, there is power]. My process is slow, and often messy. I happen to be a little more melodramatic about it than some... But it also feels like freedom. And it is sooo much better than staying asleep, sick, complacent...

I try to remember this feeling and have compassion for the dudes when I tell them they're being sexist assholes... But sometimes the energy of getting up the gumption to confront people on their privilege uses up all of the energy we have for being gentle. Which is why, when people get pissed at me, I try very hard not to be defensive, I try to listen carefully to what they're saying. 

I could have done better at that this last time, with the dreamcatchers.  And that is why I ended up needing to apologise. The same lessons get repeated over and over again until we learn...

Maybe this experience and writing this post will help me be more proactive in calling people out on their privilege. Maybe it will also help me be more gentle about it, understanding that it's big work to tell someone to reconstruct the foundation of their perception of reality... Because while I understand the anger that many people feel about all of the layers of oppression.... and I generally agree that the anger is valuable and valid... I personally don't have the energy to be angry all the time.  But I think I do have the energy to be gentle, and take on the work of helping to teach privileged people to see through other's eyes.

And certainly, it has taught me to be more responsive to people telling me when I am crossing a line, violating boundaries.