Thursday, September 7, 2017

You (Practically) Da Man

Let's say you hear a story about someone facing prejudice. A person discriminated against at work, or treated unfairly by the judicial system. Assuming you're a reasonably compassionate person, you want to show that you care. But there's two general ways to do this:

You could portray yourself as a sort of comrade in arms, either by comparing it to your own situation ("I know what that's like") or by highlighting a common enemy ("You tell 'em! Stick it to The Man!")

The other way is to act as a representative of society as a whole ("We really need to change as a people.") Or even to take responsibility as part of the problem ("On behalf of all X, I'm really sorry.”)

Which attitude you take largely depends on who you are. If you're a member of the same oppressed group as the victim, you'll surely commiserate. And probably, if you're from a group that had suffered similarly, you'll probably also compare your struggles. On the other hand, If your life situation is quite different, you'll probably avoid comparison, and try to show sympathy from the outside.

As a straight, white, able-bodied cis-male, I'm generally restricted to that second approach. It's going to sound silly if I try to compare my experience to someone who has lived their life with systematic discrimination. ("I know what you mean, let me tell you about how long they're taking rebuilding the expressway interchange I use.") Or, to put it another way, I can't say "Stick it to The Man" if everyone knows I am The Man.

And in a society that is prominently white, many of the people I know are in the same boat. Generally, if I'm talking to someone who ticks any of the oppression boxes, it's a woman. That is, a straight, white, able-bodied cis-female. So how do they react when looking at someone else's struggle?

I've noticed that in these situations, they're pretty quick to go to that first reaction. They align themselves with the victim, and jump to a very negative view of society. This always makes me feel kind of awkward. Sure, I'm quick to acknowledge the unfairness of society, but in this case, I'm like, excuse me, The Man is right here, I can hear you.

But here's the interesting point: In recent years - thanks to social media - I've had the chance to see the perspectives of more people with many different backgrounds. And I've discovered that although white women may see themselves as part of The Oppressed, many others definitely don't see it that way. There's a widespread feeling that white women are hardly worse-off than white men, with a lot of pent-up anger aimed at them.

I don't know how fair that is. It often seems like a grass-is-greener situation, in which white women have taken on a mythical status among frustrated activists, envisioned as incredibly privileged, hardly different from folks like myself. That’s clearly inaccurate; domestic abuse and sexual assault are problems that are not easily dismissed.

But ultimately that just adds to my point: There’s a big divide there amongst progressives, and a lot of misunderstanding. So please realize that people don’t understand one another’s struggles as much as they think they do. You may not have the oppression-cred that you think, and it will look fake if you pretend you do. But conversely, you will look out-of-touch if you assume that another’s life is easy.

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