Colin Kaepernick and the hypocrisy of patriotism

When I first heard about Colin Kaepernick’s move to protest the national anthem, I didn’t think much of it. Strange, perhaps, but nothing particularly outrageous.

As an HBCU grad, I became accustomed to simply standing (with a skeptical look but hands at my side) for the traditional national anthem and then raising my right fist for the black national anthem (Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing.) The double consciousness (as penned by W.E.B Dubois) permeates Black American life and so I slowly realized that 2 national anthems for the US at sporting events wasn’t the norm.

When I saw the responses coming from every corner of the internet bashing the 49’s player’s decision to express himself, I felt confused. He started to lose support, NFL viewers tuned out, and sponsors pulled out.

Fellow players, though, joined in his protest. Players from across the NFL maintained the tradition of protesting injustice in the realm of sports. The NBA and WNBA have fined players for wearing “I Can’t Breathe” shirts and Knox College suspended (and then reinstated) player Ariyana Smith for silently protesting during the national anthem, sparking the recent wave of athletes protesting injustice.

RGB put in her 2 cents on Kaepernick’s actions, using words like “dumb” “disrespectful” and “arrogant” in her response to the player’s protest. While she noted that he is within his legal right to protest and she wouldn’t arrest anyone for protesting, her words strike an unsettling nerve.

As a woman of color, it’s difficult to appease my initial urge to jump to the supreme court justice’s defense. Ruth Bader Ginsburg has championed the rights of women in the U.S and inspired plenty of women to advocate for themselves. Her comments seem thoughtless and they lack empathy; isn’t she, too, someone who has faced oppression? 

It’s frustrating to hear someone belittle the valid expression of another. I’m curious as to why “patriotism” in America is restricted to things noted as historically symbolic. Why can’t we show patriotism by both standing OR kneeling for the anthem? Throwing tea overboard (dressed as indigenous peoples who had been massacred) to dispute taxes is a show of patriotism but silently kneeling in protest of black bodies in the street is a sign of disrespect? 

As a teenager growing up in the city that’s home to Focus on the Family and the Air Force Academy, I chose to sit every day in class when my peers and teachers recited the pledge of allegiance. I grew up in a post 9/11 world, where an irrational fear of “other” permeated sacred spaces, saying those hypnotically tuned words as a 2nd grader but never really understanding what they meant. When I made the “monumental” decision to sit instead of stand, watching my peers, I abated the criticism of a few of my (white) peers, but I wasn’t alienated from my community. Life went on and I grew up with a certain cautious reverence for the country in which I currently reside.

While I don’t openly protest injustice on a daily basis, I acknowledge its existence like the persistent throb of a migraine. Progress against oppression doesn’t come without criticism (from both within and outside of the movement), but I worry that divisive comments can detract from the larger goal.

So, on the 50th anniversary of the Black Panther Party, when a former leader mentioned that Kaepernick is “not the first, and he knows he’s not the first,” I think about the actions of less publicized Americans: a singer of the anthem (a white breast cancer survivor) who took a knee during her performance. “I love and honor my country as deeply as anyone yet it is my responsibility as an American to speak up against injustice as it affects my fellow Americans,” she said. Tysse continued:

“I cannot idly stand by as black people are unlawfully profiled, harassed and killed by our law enforcement over and over and without a drop of accountability. …

“Whether or not you can see if from your vantage point, there is a deep system of institutionalized racism in America, from everyday discrimination to disproportionate incarceration of people of color to people losing their lives at the hands of the police simply for being black. This is not who we claim to be as a nation. It is wrong and I won’t stand for it. #Solidarity.”

While Tysse certainly faced criticism for the protest, she hasn’t received nearly as much negative attention for her gesture as black athletes. The NBA respected her right to express her views.

I want the same respect for people of color to express their anger.

 

 

 

A normalized culture of violence against women

 

During my first trip to Taipei, Taiwan, as I marveled at the clean and efficient metro system and wandered around the city, something felt different. I’m used to attracting attention as a traveler when I go abroad, usually because I’m taller than average and no one can pinpoint my exact “ethnicity.” Most people (especially Germans) seem to think that staring long enough will reveal the answer on my forehead. harassment

I anticipated this in Taiwan, but I didn’t have that same feeling of being “watched” on this trip. No one noticed me, at all, and I shared this observation with a friend of a friend who is from Taipei but has also traveled and lived outside of the country.

“I can walk around late at night here with no problems. I always feel safe, no matter what time it is.” Any time of night? In such a large city? Indeed, I learned. Taiwan is famous for its “night markets,” small sections of streets filled with food and clothing vendors open until late into the night. Both locals and visitors flock to the vendors to indulge in fried, skewered, and steamed Taiwanese specialties as they bargain over other goods along narrow alleyways.

My friend mentioned that sexual harassment in the U.S, including “catcalling,” is pretty notorious. Everyone knows it happens.

When I recounted how often I opt for taking a cab as opposed to taking the subway late at night, or how I, without fail, attract attention of men on the street when I leave my home, I got very angry.

Enter a caption

It seems unfair. Unfair that as a woman in a modernized country, I  worry about how I look, how I dress, what I say (or don’t say) because it could put me in danger. Unfair that boys are not (always) taught from a young age to treat women as humans but as prizes to be “gotten.” Instead, a girl is told to dress respectably and then grows up to second guess her outfit before stuffing mace into her clutch, “just in case.”

Why is sexual harassment and violence against women such a normalized instance of American culture?

We’ve come to accept the mindset so much that government agencies have now adopted it unconsciously. In a seemingly well-intentioned campaign to warn women about fetal alcohol syndrome, the CDC shamed women into thinking that their alcohol use has some unlikely, even implausible, risks.

Risks of drinking for any woman include “sexually transmitted diseases,” “injuries/violence,” and “unintended pregnancy.” Huh? I thought sex caused pregnancy and STDs, not binge drinking (which, of course, isn’t a healthy habit to develop anyway).

The idea that women, solely, are at fault for the violence that others commit was conveyed during the recent Zika virus scare. (Go here for a NY Times article by a Brazilian woman who articulates this point much better than I can.) Several South American countries have advised women, in an attempt to prevent birth defects, to avoid “getting pregnant.”

Something’s off about that advice: it neglects to mention a man’s role in causing pregnancy.  It isn’t as if women are spontaneously impregnating themselves; men are impregnating women. However, there hasn’t been a national call from Brazil for all men to remain abstinent for 2 years. That would be ludicrous, right?

If South American countries, many of which are predominantly Catholic, had health care systems that provided women with consistent and safe birth control options, this advice wouldn’t be so far fetched. However, birth control can be difficult to come by in many other countries and the stigma associated with these methods stems from the heavy religiously influenced background of South American countries.

Reversing this incredibly biased perspective on women starts with removing the stigma around women and sexual health. This begins with parents having open conversations with their children. It continues when men avoid shaming women for their bodies and sexual health. And it looks like women and men treating each other equally in society and governments doing the same.

(UPDATE: The CDC has taken down the infographic after criticism and Anne Schuchat, the principal deputy director of the CDC, defended the agency’s intentions, told The New York Times, “we weren’t as clear as we had hoped to be.”)

 

Microagressions and privilege: did that really just happen?

 

I love to travel. Discovering new places both domestically and abroad has opened my eyes to different aspects of the human experience I would have otherwise missed had I never left my comfort zone. Besides the superficial benefits of getting to see famous landmarks and enjoy great food, meeting new people and gleaning their perspectives on life make for an enriching experience.

As a female traveler, there have often been instances where I had to take extra precautions or alter my travel plans in order to safely enjoy my adventures. In the U.S, this happens much less often than abroad, but traveling domestically always brings about the unwanted attention of those who can’t conceive why women would consider traveling alone.

On a recent trip to Pittsburgh, I experienced a typical sexist remark from a (drunk) football fan who probably thought paying me a “compliment” would boost my self esteem. (Note that this remark came during the brief 5 minutes out of the weekend where I was alone- we’ll save that for another post). Surprisingly, this instance of misogyny wasn’t the most disturbing expression of white male privilege that I witnessed while in the Steel City.

When I travel in the U.S or abroad, people are usually perplexed and intrigued by the color of my skin. In most cases, I’m privileged enough to escape any overt discrimination and, outside of the occasional catcalls from men, I get to really enjoy the cities that I visit because I avoid most overt negative attention. During this trip, though, there were a number of subtle racial microagressions that my travel companion and I experienced that seemed to compound as the trip wore on.

Seemingly insignificant slights at JFK during the check-in and security process hadn’t deterred my vacation mood. I did notice, however, the constant glares in downtown Pittsburgh, a city not necessarily known for welcoming diversity. Even though I was overjoyed at the constant stream of black and gold at every corner, the tension of feeling like “outsiders” when walking around the city crept into consciousness often enough.

At Heinz field, as the Steelers game neared the end of the first half, my partner ventured out of our row, as several other people had already done during the game. On his way out, he heard the person sitting in the aisle seat mumble “you should go around next time.” Not thinking much of it, he returned to the row and the man remained seated. “Pardon me, sir I need to get to my seat.” The man remained seated and asked him, again, to walk around (we were sitting much closer to one side than the other). After a back and forth exchange that ended with the older white man begrudgingly stepping to the side, the element of this exchange that stuck out was the look of unwarranted”fear and anger” from the man.

He wore no Steelers gear, just a camouflaged jacket that’s often used by serious game hunters. He couldn’t have been younger that 75, and since so many other (white) fans had already left and come back to their seats, his reaction at this particular moment seemed bizarre.

If you’ve ever been to a football game, you understand that part of the experience is being squeezed into a plastic seat among thousands of other fans, thus having to let others in and out of your row whenever they want. Sure, this can be slightly annoying, but you get over it after a while if you have the slightest bit of empathy.

I find something very fascinating about this man’s reaction to having to stand up and let someone through the row. As a Steelers fan, this man supports a team that is comprised of 80% African-American players and is 1 of 5 NFL teams that boast a black head coach. Our camouflaged “friend” supports black players each and every week, yet his experiences with people of color  on a personal level suggest that he believes in deep seated racist ideologies.

The Problem with Calling it Out

 Microaggressions are naturally very difficult to explain or rationalize. Anyone who is unaware of cycles of oppression or discrimination would find it difficult to understand the humiliation of racial slights.

Let’s say that in a parallel universe, we had called out this man for his overtly racist comments and actions. Let’s say we, rationally, had confronted him in a calm manner and mentioned that he is now in 2015 and legal segregation is, in fact, over and done. The myths he was probably fed about black people were indeed false and miscegenation is no longer a crime. An ideal situation would dictate that he and his friends would have offered a prompt and sincere apology.

Anyone who has experienced a microaggression or any racial discrimination understands that this is out of the question for many reasons. This kind of peaceful outcome would require:

• the white person to acknowledge his racist perspective

No one in the 21st century wants to be outwardly labelled as a racist. Even people who interact very rarely with people of color, and have little insight into what the experience is like, would balk at the idea of associating themselves with members of the KKK. Americans typically summon an image of white hoods on horseback when you mention the word “racism” because there haven’t been many opportunities to discuss race and racism openly on a national level before. If anything, Barack Obama’s election made it easier for white Americans to remove the notion of racism from their consciousness. If you had voted for him, there’s no way you could be considered racist. Even if you didn’t vote for him, it’s because you disagreed with his policies. Even if you doubted his American citizenship, it was because his dad was Kenyan.

• Americans to acknowledge that racism still exists.

America seems like a colorblind society to anyone chooses to ignore the institutional and structural discriminatory practices of the U.S government. The U.S is a free country “for all” if you’re under the impression that all people acquired the right to vote in 1870. Politicians who are now in power are the sons (and daughters) of former politicians/citizens who supported segregation. They are the children who grew up with black nannies and images of black “comedians” and entertainers who showcased plastered smiles on their faces. Many of these politicians haven’t adapted to an America where black men and women hold equal power. This adaptation requires a huge ideological change before true equality can even be considered a possibility in the U.S.

• a shift in the power structure between people of color and whites

Very similarly, this can only happen when the overused tropes of people of color in the media are no longer the only archetypes that represent black and brown men and women. Outdated archetypes, like the black athlete or the aggressive black woman make it acceptable, in the minds of whites, to carry those stereotypes over to reality. Unless this unbalanced structure is broken down, and the stereotypes are seen as just that, encounters on a personal level like the one at the stadium will continue to occur everyday for people of color.

 

(un)safe Spaces in Black Academia

In case you missed it in these past few weeks, attending a university is yet another thing people of color cannot do in the U.S. Between Mizzou and Harvard, the message of exclusion for people of color in higher academia has been made loud and clear.

COLUMBIA, MO – NOVEMBER 9: Jonathan Butler (c), a University of Missouri grad student who did a 7 day hunger strike listens during a forum speaking to students on the campus of University of Missouri – Columbia on November 9, 2015 in Columbia, Missouri. Students celebrate the resignation of University of Missouri System President Tim Wolfe amid allegations of racism. (Photo by Michael B. Thomas/Getty Images)

In response to widespread racism and discrimination against black students on Mizzou’s campus, several students rallied together to demand focus on the reality of living as black students on predominately white institutions (PWIs). As several voices have pointed out, protests like these are nothing new; students of color (and their allies) across the country have demanded attention to bring change and awareness to their campus communities.

In this particular case though, the backlash from the protests at Mizzou have highlighted why black voices remain silenced in largely white spaces. Conservative pundits, color blind well-meaning white people, and even outwardly racist folks alike were quick to shame protesters for voicing their concerns, accusing protesters of ignoring other issues around the world.

Meanwhile, the blatant acts of racism on Harvard’s campus demonstrate the reality that blacks are especially excluded from ivy league institutions which have been built upon the notorious legacies that founded this country. The irrational fear, grounded solely in illusions of white privilege, has emboldened white students, born of this legacy of hatred, to commit hateful (yet cowardly) acts on college campuses.

The seemingly inherent fear of blacks somehow diluting the pure prestige of ivy league schools has trained many white college students to believe that racism and discrimination are normal aspects of college culture. An NPR story on the future of Mizzou after the protests featured an interview with a white student.

“I honestly want these protests to try and die down,” he says. “I want the message to continue, but I think it’s attracting a lot of unnecessary national attention from just everywhere. And it’s giving Mizzou a bad image in my opinion … I don’t think we deserve what’s going on right now. I just kind of want things to go back to normal, how they were. Nice and quiet.”

Many of the phrases used here are elements of coded language that get thrown around in an effort to lessen the sting of racism (and make white people more comfortable with expressing their ideas publicly.) The idea of a “normal” highlights the lack of awareness of students who don’t understand what it’s like to feel unsafe in most spaces. The privilege of power extends to these students when they can walk freely to class instead of avoiding potentially fatal threats on campus.

While the issues surrounding these recent incidents remain, it’s clear that the next generation of leaders refuse to allow racism to subtly coat the surface of academic spaces. The black lives matter movement has continued to gain momentum, despite it’s inner struggle in grappling with intersectionality. In order to see true change in public spaces, the uncomfortable conversations about race must continue.

Otherwise, things might just go back to how they were. Nice and quiet.

This is Just to Say

This is just to say
We have stopped
tolerating your oppression
that you’ve imposed
for centuries

and which
you were probably
planning
to destroy us with.

Forgive us
it was long overdue.
Freedom is so sweet
and so powerful.

-Christine Williams
(based on the William Carlos Williams format which can be found here)

3 things holding us back from gender equality.

“A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle” -Gloria Steinem 

Gender Roles 

Women are people. Seems obvious, right? Sure, each society has its different ideas about femininity and masculinity; in some places women are expected not to wear pants while sex “sells” in the United States.  But the way we are trained to view gender (yes, we are brainwashed to believe gender is a social construct) says so much about our treatment of women and men. Many people struggle with the concepts of asexuality and fluid sexuality. Deconstructing these ideas in this post would take way too long. But possibly the most detrimental and destructive perspectives are those that don’t allow for men and women to be complex beings. 

Men play sports                                   Women wear makeup

Men work regular jobs                         Women are caretakers

Men don’t cry                                       Women are irrational 

Men propose to women                       Women should marry 

Men own                                              Women are objects

I’ve had countless encounters with people around the world during my solo travels where they expected me to be “owned” by a man in one way or another.

“You’re traveling alone? Where’s your boyfriend? Aren’t you afraid to travel by yourself?”

The easy way to avoid these conversations is to laugh it off and agree that yes, I am still young and sure I still have time.

The difficult thing to do would be to say “No! I’m actually not interesting in conceiving children at this time or in the future. I am interested, however, in earning my PhD and improving the lives of children, who already exist, in a meaningful way. (She’s cold, they would say. She’ll come around and change her mind soon.)

The difficult thing to do would be to hold the conversation about gender roles with those with which we are closest: parents, siblings, good friends, and older relatives.

The difficult (and perhaps dangerous) thing would be to stop on the street when men choose to catcall us and ask them why they chose to use monikers like “baby” and “gorgeous” to refer to us. And no, it isn’t simply a compliment.

Oh wait, some of us are trying that already. Like agreeing with compliments from men; turns out that only gets us labeled as vain and “full of ourselves.” *sigh*

Dissension among the ranks

If I could shake every one of the young girls at my school and tell them to stop tearing each other down, I would never have time to teach. It’s enough that they encounter boys who take out their hormonal uncertainties on the self confidence and will of their female counterparts. It pains me to see 11, 12, and 13 year old girls bully and harass each other with their hurtful words. With the additional factor of technological communication in this generation, it’s hard to believe girls today have any self confidence at all.

And it’s not just an issue among children; women of all ages are QUICK to tear another woman down if she poses a “threat” in some way. Whether it’s those social constructs that have been pounded into our heads since birth to view other successful women as competitors, this mindset is toxic to the survival and success of the female community.

Some feminists are also hesitant, for some reason or another, to include the LGBTQIA community into their call for equal rights. How can we tear down other women who are fighting for the rights of all of us? Does our sexual orientation really matter in the fight to be considered as people? Really…?

Unfortunately colorism is another issue under the dissension umbrella that we face. The history of the feminist movement in the US has largely ignored and excluded a HUGE population of women that were struggling for a vast majority of their rights. Unfortunately, the fight for equality among women of color is two fold: you’re both not white and not male. It doesn’t surprise me that women of color don’t consider themselves feminists because of the movement’s sordid history at the turn of the 20th century. Womanism was born out of this division, but unfortunately some women of color continue to feel disheartened by the idea of seemingly having to put their gender before their race.

The stigma of feminism

Even Beyonce couldn’t make this popular. Unfortunately, the stigma regarding feminism is bra-burning-man-hating-P.M.Sing-rage-filled-lesbians who can’t help but to disseminate their pamphlets about why men are evil.

No, in fact we’re quite friendly. Or not. We’re doctors and teachers and lawyers and pilots. Or not. Sometimes we’re stay at home moms and mechanics and librarians and astrophysicists. We cry in public. Or not. We like sappy romantic movies. Or not.

Feminists come in all shapes and sizes. Some of my best male friends consider themselves to be feminists because they believe in the social, economic, and political equality of people.

So what’s the secret to hurtling our society towards complete gender equality? There might not be 1 answer, but there are baby steps we can take. 

Have open conversations with people who truly don’t know any better.

Take a deep breath before you pass judgement on someone who thinks all feminists are lesbians.

Unless they’re Pat Robertson. In this case, run.

And seek out resources, because you’re not in this alone! It can be difficult to talk with people about a subject you might not be well versed in. It’s even more frustrating when people THINK they are experts when they primarily speak from illogical and broad claims. Despite the scary world of internet conversations out there, safe spaces for women exist (BTW, you should go back and click on those links 🙂 they’re pretty awesome) that allow for open conversations.

Build each other up

Encourage the women in your life to be happy. Even if you don’t agree with all of their life choices, guess what? It’s not your life! You have your own to live and we all deserve people in our space who lift us up instead of passing judgement. Seriously, society oppresses us enough.

“There is no such thing as a single issue struggle because we do not live single issue lives.” -Audrey Lorde