The NARAL's refusal to become involved in the fight against David Duke's Nazi-esque efforts to demonstrates and reinforces the ideas of poor blacks (especially women) as "untouchables" --a true undercaste. Involving or advocating for this group is seen as politically detrimental or detracting from a larger issue.

This IS the larger issue though. Attempts to mainstream or make policy more palatable by appealing to a more conservative, white audience will always keep poor blacks on the periphery. I am frankly disgusted with the racial apathy that has existed in the feminist movement. As Wise notes, racism, classism and sexism intersect constantly (140). To isolate one form of oppression is to be dishonest.

There has been sexism in the fight for racial equality, and racism in the struggle for women's rights. According to Wise's account, there is a fair amount of classism in the feminist movement as well. I would argue that classism and racism are the most closely associated forms of oppression, because we are trained to view black as synonymous with poor, and vice versa.

Examining my pretty white girl privilege

This weekend I was privileged enough to sit in on a rehearsal for a Hampshire College, a Division III production that my close friend has been costume designing for. Aside from being introduced to aspects of theater I had never even thought of (the concept of a dry tech rehearsal, and idea about lighting and set design) I was really struck by the show's conceptual underpinnings. The piece is titled, “Fat, Black and Ugly". Here is a description of the piece by creator Eshe Shukura:

"A performance installation that displays my personal Fat Body. Considers my brown, St Louis born, Atlanta raised skin. Remembers my female body.

Explores other fat. Connects to other fat. Exposes, critiques, and invites. Stories are captured. Multiple identities are awakened. Bodies are moving through around, under, above, and between textured spaces. Creating connections that are daring to exist.

This show contains nudity and is not suitable for children. As the title suggests, this show deals with issues of fatphobia and anti-black racism."

In a particularly salient sequence, the three women on stage sing an almost seductive manner, about the allure of fried chicken. The cultural meaning that the grease holds for them. One woman also addresses "fat phobia," and how people shame others who embody what they themselves are afraid of becoming.   

It got me thinking about how powerful the tools of shame are in the preservation of our society. Shame for being fat- lazy, no good, not productive, why don't you get lipo or a tummy tuck?. Shame for being ugly- why don’t you wear makeup? Shame for being poor- why don't you work harder?

As I watched the rehearsal, the spectacle of Eshe and the other actresses, conveying images and experiences of "fat" "black" and "ugly" I became acutely aware that I am a walking inscription of the opposite. I am "thin" "white" and "pretty". 

In White Like Me, Wise discusses his lineage, and acknowledges that his past includes slave owners. He also takes solace in the fact that his bloodline also includes a woman who was active in anti-slavery activism during his time. I used this line of thinking to examine my place as a white American.

I am the first generation born in the U.S. on my mother’s side, and second generation on my father’s side. My lineage does not have a place in the estadounidense  history of anti-black racism. Does that make me exempt from the white burden in this country? My mother has done fairly extensive investigations of our lineage on her side. I asked her whether our past included slave owners, and to my dismay she admitted that this was likely. Her maiden name, Passos, is a royal bloodline from Portugal. It is likely that our family was one of the first to colonize Brazil. However, our bloodline also includes indigenous Brazilians, and possibly (though no one will talk about it, or ever entertain the idea) Afro-Brazilian blood.Members of my family have been the exploiters and the exploited. This is my unique position in the world. Our inclination, as people. is to spin narratives which placate us, which reinforce our sense of self, and ultimately our privilege.  

 

Despite not being connected, by blood, to the structures of inequality that helped construct our nation… I am still a beneficiary of this stratification. I am a pretty white girl in a culture that values whiteness. Sometimes, I have been given things for free. People often assume that I am more competent, more capable of performing jobs and tasks than I feel I truly am. I am given more trust, and more responsibility than I feel I deserve. So, how do I contend with that? I feel that my station in life has not yet been earned.

 

As I reflect back to the rehearsal, I remember being envious of Eshe’s bravery. For her to strip down, and put her “fat” “black” “ugly” body on display in order to address important issues, is a type of courage I will never know. She dares the audience to find contradiction in her statements.

 

“Don’t call me beautiful, because I’m not.” She states defiantly, at one point. And that gesture, in and of itself,  was startlingly beautiful. 

Obama and Taylor’s “Post-Racial Exuberance”

“We can’t possibly be racist, just look at our president!”

          Barack Obama, with a self-proclaimed “Muslim-sounding name” and mixed heritage began his first term as President in 2008 (read: post 9/11). This ushered in a new, optimistic attitude towards perceptions of racial progress in the United States.  Taylor cites a journalist who writes; "In the post-racial era personified by Obama… Americans start to make race-free judgments about who should lead them" (Taylor 184). He also discusses something he terms, “post racial exuberance.” In this case, exuberance and ignorance seem to go hand in hand.

Touting Obama is the post racial thinking in respect to Obama makes us blind to issues of mass-incarceration and profiling. This type of thinking also creates a space where we are not obligated, prompted or feel it is necessary to examine our own attitudes surrounding race. We do not challenge the stereotypes that permeate the media. We can agree that overt racism is bad, but avoiding race talk as a whole stagnates us as a society. Some view Obama as a signpost for a progressive, “post-racial” society, but this view is problematic. Obama as president encourages some to approach systemic issues with more colorblindness than ever.

                On the flipside of all this, I remember that last class we talked about the concentration of black athletes in professional sports, and the effect this could have on black youth considering their future options. If they see themselves represented in athletics and the music industry, for example, and not in politics it will affect how open different career paths seem. Barack Obama, while problematic if he is viewed as a landmark for a new “post-racist” era, can serve as an inspiration for the next generation of black youth in impoverished areas who want to be lawyers, politicians, and generally well-educated adults.