This is what an activist looks like

I’m disappointed when I hear activists prescribing what other activists ought to do. I’m surprised it doesn’t all come from rich, white, etc, etc, men, and here’s why.

Traditional forms of activism are often not possible or difficult for a given individual. Is a single mother going to go to a rally for paid maternity leave when she can’t find someone to look after her kids? Is someone with chronic pain and/or fatigue going to take kindly to being told they ought to attend a protest? Is it reasonable to expect that everyone has the time, energy, resources and know-how to do research or a survey? Is someone struggling to get by going to have the money to pay to get into your event? Is your crowded, loud meeting held in a room up a flight of steps going to be accessible to everyone?

You see, if you’re claiming to be progressive, but your organising unthinkingly excludes chunks of vulnerable and oppressed people? You are not a progressive. And if you are nevertheless insisting that some other form of activism is not a proper one? You are a douche. If you’re low on resources, and really trying to include folks, that’s one thing. But if you think you have the one true way to save the world, that is quite another.

What I am suggesting is that there are a lot of forms of activism in the world, and looking down one’s nose at some of them is detrimental as well as being offensive to those of us working hard to make valuable contributions in any way we can. It goes beyond ‘well, everyone should do what they can’. It’s not even a case of ‘if you can only contribute a little, that’s fine’. It’s not even just about the privileging of particular modes of contribution. It’s this: I do not know where anyone gets off saying that what another person does to heal the world is less than proper.

Now, I sign petitions and write letters all that sort of thing. I buy badges and do bakesales, too. Right now I’m volunteering with the local government on a DVD aimed at crime prevention. (These forms of activism have various levels of “proper activism” quotient attached to them. Discussion questions: How much do they tie in with what you do? How traditional do they seem to you?) I do traditional activism – sometimes. I am disabled, and it is not always physically possible to do so. Here is a short list of some forms of activism in which I engage that traditional thinking doesn’t call activism:

• I call out people when they use “ism”-based language.
• I attempt to be an ethical consumer (and frequently fail, but I’m getting better! And it’s a feature of economic privilege that this form of activism is even possible for me).
• I try to centre marginal people/experiences/voices in any given situation.
• I engage with the world, and learn as much as I can about what I can do to make it better.
• I look into myself and work at unravelling oppressive ideas I have taken on as my own.
• I assist those around me with their activism where I can and should.

We should be rethinking traditional methods of activism, because progress means rethinking the traditional to make sure we have the very best for ourselves and the world. Even where we’ve assured ourselves we’re progressive. We need to keep thinking, keep examining, not only the world but ourselves.

Because it’s not just pressuring governments that’s important, as important as it is. Central to my activism is what I do right here, right now, in my life and my communities. When it comes down to it, progress is not only in the big sweeping changes. It’s in our souls. It’s in relating to each other with kindness.

I just don’t get it when people say that blogging isn’t real activism, because it is a big deal to this activist. I’ve reached and been reached by so many people, sharing lives that would never otherwise touch! Because the Internet is not composed of individuals shouting into the void. The Internet is composed of people, and we use it to direct attention to issues and petitions and all sorts. And we take what we learn with us to the offline world. Even if this wasn’t so, there is important work to do inside our minds. We have to tease out the oppression we’ve stored in ourselves. We have to understand and learn. Blogs have given me tools to put language and frames to my experience. For instance, amandaw’s work at Three Rivers Fog and Lauredhel’s at Hoyden About Town gave me what I needed to talk about my experiences as a disabled woman. You know. Writing isn’t useless. Writing is a good part of humanity’s process and progress, how we connect, how we relate to ourselves. Whether you’re writer or reader – and how often those roles intertwine in a sphere such as blogging! – writing is not just valid, but vital.

Previously in this thought process: In which homework is assigned.

In which homework is assigned

I’m going to talk about accessibility. I want you to have a think. Then I want you to pause, reflect and keep thinking.

Before I start, think about what disability access means to you. What sort of things does accessibility require? Make a note of what comes to your head.

While you’re working on that, I’m going to tell you what I often do when I arrive somewhere new. I scan my surroundings to determine how accessible the particular space is. Is the furniture too high or too low or too small? Is there enough space for a wheelchair/scooter to pass through comfortably (with space left over for a companion)? Are there windows? Is there any mold? fresh paint? air freshener? Is there enough space to breathe or get away from other people? Is the lift/ramp in good order and close by? Are there railings? Are there (solid, multiple) chairs? Are there any sharp edges or prominent features that could make movement unsafe? These are just a few of the things that may go through my mind. And I do it all as quickly and discreetly as I can, because I don’t want to stand out to any abled folk who may be observing me. And you know what? Most of these things, most of the time, aren’t relevant to my disability. I’m looking out for my fellow PWD. Which is to say that these things are not that hard to pick up.

Now, when you were thinking about disability access, you probably thought of transcripts and ramps and disabled bathrooms. And those things are important. But did you think about invisible access for invisible disabilities? Where well-known accessibility measures like those transcripts, ramps and bathrooms are often not available (or not properly) the measures that don’t immediately spring to an abled person’s mind don’t have a hope in hell.* And, speaking as someone with an invisible chronic illness, having to out myself in order to perhaps be granted access, with the very real possibility of not being believed, is one of the most unpleasant parts of my life.** I doubt you thought about access to services for people who aren’t accessing them in person. I doubt you’ve ever thought about how to give directions without visual reference. In fact, I bet most of the things you thought of were those that were in your face.

Which brings me to my next point. Accessibility is not just about alternatives and gadgets and adaptations. It’s about you.*** It’s about all the abled people who are in charge of accessibility measures. And that’s not just those of you in a position of authority, that’s you making your way down the street. Remember, you often don’t know who is and who isn’t a PWD, and you don’t know the kind of impact you’re having on them. The world is designed to suit the abled, and it’s every last one of you impacting us. It’s about your attitudes making our lives harder. (Did you ever consider how awful it is to have a loud, public discussion of one’s needs? Did you ever consider that forcing your idea of help on us might be detrimental? Did you consider the kind of devastation you privileging your perceptions over our experiences can lead to?****) It’s about whether you decide our enjoyment, our livelihoods, our life experiences and our humanity are worth your attention.

I am asking for your attention.

Now, I want you to think radically. Accessibility should not be framed as making adaptations to suit those others, those deviant disabled bodies and minds. If there is a space, text, service, mechanism, happening, situation, tradition, something that people are going to engage with, everyone needs to be accommodated.***** My point being. Don’t think of us as others, even deserving others, you must reach out to and adapt to. We’re not brave, broken little souls. We’re human beings. Think of every single person having different needs and circumstances, and centring those people who are having a tougher time of it. Think of providing everyone with what they need. If someone needs more than most, they ought to be given it. Not because they are other, but because they are a person. We’re no more other, or tiresome, or disgusting than you with your various troubles, quirks and loves. The only difference between you and me is that the world has dictated that I am low and you are whole. That’s all.

Think of privileging those bodies and minds that are marginalised in so many spaces. If you think that it’s too daunting, too much, consider what it means for PWD and consider that you’d be happy to do it if it was you. You adapt to circumstances all the time, and you may want to examine your motivations if you’re reluctant to accommodate PWD. Do whatever you can do with the resources you have. Access for my kind of people should not be an afterthought, it should be right there, in your plan, in your consciousness, because it is at the very least as vital as the kind of attention you give everybody else.

I want you to rethink access. Mostly, I want you to THINK.

I have some related links for you to help you with the thinking:
Alena of Perspectives from a Blind Point of View – fabulous blog, by the way – asks What Does Accessibility Mean to Me?
You may have heard of feminist science fiction convention Wiscon. I haven’t attended myself, but they seem pretty accessible from their website. This is an example of doing it right.
WildlyParenthetical delves into invisible disabilities and how they get that way.
I picked up the phrase ‘invisible access for invisible disabilities’ from Lauredhel. She has some suggestions on the subject here.
If you want to learn more about what kind of thing can constitute privileging your perceptions over our lived experience, specific to invisible illness, see annaham’s Invisible Illness Bingo and Invisible Illness Bingo 2: Back for Revenge.
See Jo Tamar’s Accessibility, choice, accomodation and equality. Because alternatives aren’t always good enough, and they’re frequently a tool for demeaning us further.
Cripchick and commenters have lots of suggestions.
Also, this.

Remember that all this, this post, these links, are background. There is no prescriptive means of dealing with PWD; we are not a monolith. Consider the person you’re dealing with as an individual with individual needs. I can barely believe I actually had to type that.

—

*Actually, hell’s probably more accessible than some of the places I’ve been to.

**And you would just laugh at how utterly bizarre that is if you knew the nature of my illness.

*** For me personally, it’s mostly about you. Other people have a different ratio with regard to these things.

**** ‘You look much better today.’ ‘Maybe you should try losing weight.’ ‘Maybe you’re just tired.’ ‘Are you sure that’s what happened?’ ‘My cousin’s boss’ sister’s friend’s tried this thing you should try.’ Just don’t. How dare you presume that we don’t know how to handle ourselves? If we want help, we will most likely ask. These suggestions act to obscure problems, meaning that we’re not given the help we want/need because everyone else has moved on, ’cause you’ve already solved it, right? You do not know better than us.

***** Were you thinking in terms of access to buildings? Open your mind. Think about daily experience.

Note: The possible disclaimer applies to this post.

The Twelfth Down Under Feminists Carnival

Welcome to the twelfth edition of the Down Under Feminists Carnival. This is a special one as it marks a full year of DUFC goodness, served up to you from around New Zealand and Australia. We’ve had a fabulous lot of blogging over the last year – have you seen QoT’s list of contributors? Wow – as continued with this edition. The carnival has become something of an institution for all of us. I’m honoured to be hosting this first anniversary celebration.

Before we begin, congratulations are in order! Blue Milk just had her baby! On behalf of the Down Under feminist blogging community, Blue Milk, warmest wishes to you and your whole family. We are absolutely delighted for you. All the best for the years ahead.

Perhaps now would be a good time to serve the cake, eh?

(A pink feminist cake! Confusing, isn’t it?)

General Feminism

From Hellonhairylegs we have One Day, a post on what we’re told as children will make us happy as adults.
Andra of Andragy says a lot in a little space with CyberBullying, Feminism, Mean Girls, Queen Bees and Boys. ‘Just for today, I believe that feminism cannot succeed without unpacking the violence of group dynamics and stereotypes both masculine and feminine.’ She shares her experiences as a parent and some reading she’s been doing.
Schroedinger’s Tabby shares some false comparisons between women and men: ‘it’s always about using emotive language to put someone down’.
Caitlin writes about trying to find a label for herself and a place in feminism. You’re not alone in that, Caitlin.
Audrey of Audrey and the Bad Apples blogs a speech she gave on the value of contemporary feminism the world over. A quote: ‘One of the best tools you can give anyone is a sense of belonging and purpose. It’s the hope for a better future – not one which has been handed to you and to which you must resign yourself, but one in which you have had a hand forging.’

Violence Against Women

Ludditejourno posts a list of women and children dead as a result of domestic violence. It’ll stop you in your tracks.
Over at Ideologically Impure, Queen of Thorns tells us why there are no second chances for Tony Veitch.
At I Am Not Cake, Jet writes the powerful Rape Culture: Still Not Funny. You’ll be wanting to bookmark this one.
More from Caitlin, this time at The Dawn Chorus, in Misogyny in Football? Never! At least not according to North Melbourne….
Let’s all say it together, everyone… it’s not sex, it’s rape! Hoyden About Town’s Lauredhel has something to say about strategic remorse.
No doesn’t mean no?! Anna of The Hand Mirror reports on an outrageous defence by the lawyer of a taxi driver convicted in a case of abduction and indecent assault of a passenger.

Class and Economics

AnneE at Elsewoman writes a brief and pointed post about race, gender and unemployment in New Zealand.
Here’s a thoughtful post from Helen from Blogger on the Cast Iron Balcony. It’s called The Home ATM is out of order #2: Thinking about schools and is on home equity, education and the economy in Australia.
At The Radical Radish, rayedish talks about Australia’s wage gap and an opportunity for discussion that just shouldn’t have been missed. Presenting Can we talk about this (wage gap) civilly, please?.

Race

More from QoT, writing about the Eskimo lollies issue and New Zealand pride in ”Iconic” might not be the word you’re looking for.
Then there’s the excellent Andrew Bolt, Wajin-looking Koori, Aboriginality, and comments full of lies over at Hexpletive (now cross-posted at HAT). Jo Tamar from Wallaby adds her thoughts on identity and the majority narrative in There’s a reason I don’t read Andrew Bolt. Give them both a read.

Writing and Literature

Mel Campbell at The Dawn Chorus shares some thoughts on the late JG Ballard’s partner and invisible muse, Claire Walsh. It’s an unusual piece for feminist blogging and a good read.
In a thought-provoking reminder of universal sisterhood, Allecto of Gorgon Poisons shares two similar pieces of writing on women’s experience.

Subversion!

Blogging at Musings of an inappropriate woman, Rachel Hills documents an intriguing look into wedding culture by artist Lee Gainer in Why would anyone spend two months’ salary on a ring, anyway?
In an action of momumental win, sajbrfem of Fifty Two Acts made actual feminist cookies. I can’t even pick my favourite.

Parenthood…

Thinking about pre- and post-pregnancy bodies and lives, Spilt Milk writes The new me is the old me is the new me. ‘I’ve been trying so hard to forge my identity as a mother that I’ve let many other parts of my identity slip into obscurity.’ She adds Body and soul, a beautiful piece on reconnecting with her body during and following pregnancy.
aztec-rose of WoLFi TaLEs reminds us of a very important issue that may be pushed aside given the economy. The post’s called Paid maternity leave at risk… of being dumped.

… and Reproductive Justice

Emma at Emervents writes a letter to her MP and Nicola Roxon regarding the Maternity Services Review and improving healthcare in Australia. Over at narrating kayoz, Kirsten also writes to Federal Health Minister Nicola Roxon. It’s an open letter and includes Kirsten’s personal story. Meanwhile, Lauredhel is trying to move the conversation from stat-wrangling towards a reproductive choice perspective.
Western Australian breastfeeding mothers are having a time of it. For Colin Barnett’s assertions regarding breastfeeding, I for one have no words. Lauredhel found some in Mothers Not Human: In The Words Of Our Premier. Emma in Oz has some lovely snark on the same subject. To finish, Georgie of Surprisingly Domestic centres babies in the discussion with the wonderful Why I breastfeed in public.

Trans

At A.E.Brain, Zoe writes a lovely piece called Appearance on valuing appearance and the experiences of late-transitioning trans women. In Another Piece of the Puzzle, she takes a look at a study called “Regional gray matter variation in male-to-female transsexualism”.
Chally (hey, that’s me!) writes Say, we haven’t filled our daily quota of dehumanisation! Let’s go do that then. It’s on a Ninemsn article about Aussie Ladette to Lady, so you know how that’s gonna end.

Media

Could it be feminism in the MSM? Jo Tamar reports.
Oh, Sam de Brito. This time, he’s kindly telling us how to do feminism. Fuck Politeness informs us as to Sargeant Major de Brito’s Great Feminist Battle Plan. In a continution of the ‘guerilla style Media Watch’ we’ve all come to expect from FP, she writes a response to a Miranda Devine piece on Bettina Arndt in What’s good for the gander….
At Larvatus Prodeo, Kim writes “the conclusions are only as good as the original assumptions”. I can’t think of anything to say that won’t spoil your reading!

The Stupid. It Burns.

Mimbles, blogging at Mim’s Muddle, was not alone in being astounded at one Clementine Ford. She writes about it in Quick Hit: Pot, meet kettle.
Meanwhile, Anne serves up some snark to a misguided scientist in Oh, those wonderful males.
In a Strange Land blogger Deborah has been blogging on atheist parenthood. What really raised my blood pressure was when her daughters, having opted out of participating in a school Easter activity, were sent to pick up rubbish. ‘I’m finding it hard not to see that as a punishment for not being Christian,’ says Deborah. The Strange Lands had words with the school. Post here, background here, update here.
The American Academy of Pediatrics, formula feeding, April Fools, and a lesson to be learned in public relations. Here’s Tigtog at Larvatus Prodeo and Lauredhel at Hoyden.

Relationships

Regarding Mel Gibson’s divorce, Deborah says Enough already with calling it “his” fortune. Because nothing Robyn Gibson contributed matters, according to the media.
Richie has a post for us on a webcomic called, wait for it, The Nice Guy. The title pretty much says it all: Do you have that female friend that you’re hopelessly in love with that unloads all her problems on you, only to end up back in the sack with that loser ex that cheated on her with her own sister, leaving you high and dry?

Disability

As usual, Lauredhel has some excellent writing on the subject. Firstly, a quiz on representations of disabled bodies in logos. Hmm, can you tell what’s missing there? She also offers us 101: A note to able-bodied readers, which had me thinking how glad I was that somebody finally said it! It’s about inappropriate centring of abled people in PWD spaces. Lastly, we have Psychiatrists see reasonable adaptations to CFS, label it “cause” and “maladaptation” – as amandaw says in comments, ‘Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.’
Jo Tamar blogs about Dan Savage’s willingness to miss the point regarding the use of the word “retard”. Jo takes this disingenuous behaviour down very well.
I, Chally, opened up about being chronically ill in a series called Not Staying Silent. It consists of Introduction, I hope you know what you’ve done, Claiming the Label, or, conceptualising myself as disabled, Real Problems, Deference, Response and Recovery.
And if you’re looking for more resources on disability activism, the good people at Hoyden About Town did your homework for you.

That concludes the Twelfth Down Under Feminists Carnival.

I had a fabulous time putting it together. Thanks for reading and take care of your lovely selves. See you next time at Demelza’s place (submissions to demelzagf at yahoo dot com where the submissions page is inaccessible), and do consider volunteering to host a future carnival.

For more information, have a look at the carnival homepage.

Enjoy your cake!

Over to you

Open forum: what issues do you need to learn more about in your social justice work?

Also, have you got resources you’d like to share or ones you’re looking for? What are you doing to be a better ally? Where are you messing up?

I for one need to learn more about sex worker advocacy. I also need to do some serious examining of my class privilege. I need to get better at calling out people on their privilege; that is, I’m getting better at saying something, but I’m not sure my words are that effective. That’s just a starting list!

So, over to you. Don’t be shy.

Contextual activism

You know on forms where they ask you what your sex or gender is? (Like those are interchangeable.) And they ask you ‘male’ or ‘female? (In that order.) Those really irritate me. I thought a few weeks ago about adding more options or writing a note about how limited that is on the form.

Because it is very limiting. If it’s medical and it asks for sex, is a trans man who hasn’t transitioned meant to tick ‘female’? What about genderqueer people or intersex people or…? And not only that, but there’s so much more potential for harm, from humiliation to inappropriate medical care.

The other day, I took a survey. I ticked the ‘F’ box, because I identify as female and am in the sort of body conventionally defined as female, but added a note about how limited the binary options provided were and suggested an ‘other’ space to fill out. Which is problematic, obviously, but that’s what I thought of at the time, in the initial excitement of subversion and in the tradition of forms. Maybe ‘Something else’ would have been better. I felt pretty good.

A few days later, I was filling in a medical form when I came across the same thing. This time, I just kept my head down, ticked the ‘F’ box and quietly moved onto the next thing. As suggested by the nature of the form, I was feeling a little vulnerable and just wanted to do it “right” so that I got what I needed.

So I feel like I failed all of you out there, those of you who don’t fit the gender binary. Yeah, I’m one of those perfectionist people. But this got me thinking. There are times when I am an activist and there are times when I just let it go. Sometimes I speak my mind about sex education or exploitation of workers or contraception and sometimes I just stay quiet. I know you’re all going to say that that’s acceptable, of course, we can’t be switched on constantly. I still want to think about it.

We none of us live up to our ideology. We can’t. It’s good to do good work where we can. If it’s a question of safety, I like to employ the ‘live to fight another day’ principle. This includes burnout; you do what you can, when you can, where you can.

I’m going to try looking for the gaps. There are probably patterns in the things I leave out, maybe a certain issue I don’t feel safe speaking up about or certain people I don’t feel safe speaking up among. Probably? Who am I kidding? I know that for a fact. There are plenty of “progressive” spaces I don’t feel safe speaking up in as well. In finding the patterns, maybe I can work out ways to bolster my safety and work on what I want to work on.

I also get irritated when they ask for marital status when that has absolutely no bearing on anything they could need to know. Isn’t asking for one’s title good enough? Are they trying to determine whether to defer to a woman’s husband in “important matters” or something? Maybe I should write in ‘no business of yours’ next time.

“Jungles aren’t racist!”

Okay, so if you follow me on Twitter you may be aware that I was invited to a fancy dress party aimed at helping the environment. The theme was, naturally, the jungle. Needless to say, I was very upset. I immediately sent off a message to my contact in the organisation in charge of the party (I didn’t want to step on his toes by complaining to the wrong person) and asked who I should contact and whether he had anything to do with it. He called me back a few minutes later. He wasn’t responsible for the party, but he said that he was doing some anti-racism work and he’d make contact for me.

This organisation prides itself on being inclusive and I’ve seen them live up to that under immense difficulties on a number of occasions. Two things. a) I get the impression that most of the high-up staff are European. b) This is out of ignorance, it would most likely not have occured to the people in charge that there were racial connotations. (Nevertheless…)

Well, I can help out with option B with a little 101.

A few months ago, Feministing reported on American Apparel’s new “Afrika” line, the promotional materials of which feature a bunch of white women in jungle prints. The comments are both good and bad and all should give you some insight into both the nature of this racism and how invisible it is to many white people. In comments, sanjata has an excellent summary, in which the emphasis is mine:

For people who have not been exposed to critical race theory or the study of colonialism and cultural appropriation, the new Afrika line probably doesn’t look racist to you. The reason it doesn’t look racist to you is because the attractiveness of the line is meant to play on the unconscious attitudes that non-african westerners have about africa. Here’s a set of association words:

exotic
primitive
tribal
jungle
wild
animalistic
hypersexual

I can go on, but you get the point.

Over at Urban Dictionary – and I warn you, this link may be upsetting – is a page of definitions of jungle bunny.

And then there were the infamous and indefensible illustrations (sorry, I’ve just realised that the alliteration sounds flippant, those are just the words that best express what I’m trying to say; take it as a means of emphasis instead) from Amanda Marcotte’s book It’s a Jungle Out There. They featured white women fighting African tribal warriors as a visual metaphor for feminists fighting oppressors or, possibly and dehumanisingly, oppression.

Yes, white people. There are jungles in places other than Africa. Some people have pleasant associations with certain animals and therefore with animal prints. You don’t think you’re racist. Not a whole lot of people do, but racism is still there, right? It’s systemic and you need to do your best to learn to identify it and mitigate your privilege as best you can.

There’s a reason this post is light on analysis. You need to do your own research. You need to go out from your enclave and quietly listen to the words of others. You can’t determine what’s racist or not, because it’s not your oppression. When you’ve done a lot – a lot – of learning, assess if you’re ready to act to help out. Then you’ll think twice about watching The Jungle Book or buying from American Apparel or giving a jungle-themed party (oh, my head hurts). And please, don’t immediately go to the defensive. There’s more at stake than your anti-racist cred. Be nice. Do the right thing.

Giving on many counts

I’m thinking about giving more meaningful presents.

I often find myself giving generic gifts – an ornament, a jewellery box – to my friends. I have a bit of trouble coming up with individual and meaningful gifts, even to people I know well. I do have a bright idea on occasion: I’m giving a friend left-handed scissors for her birthday this April, which is something she wants but can never find. And, of course, in buying products I’m potentially contributing to the exploitation of workers and resources.

Birthdays, holidays and other special occasions are of great importance to me, as are my friends and family and lessening my negative impact on this world. So I’m going to start giving with a dose of ideology. My criteria is that at least one gift per person for the next year must be one of the following:

• Homemade (like the famous scarf),
• A donation to a cause I think they’d like to support or know they already do,
• Otherwise supportive of such a cause or
• Candle/light related, in order to encourage and bring light into their lives

So perhaps I’ll make a woollen scissors cover for my leftie friend. Or a donation to World Vision on behalf of my Christian friend who likes their work. Or candles for my lovely poetry buddy who needs the light of inspiration.

I’ve done some cursory research on feminist/ethical/very small business-made/fair trade gifts online.

• Feministing had a holiday gift guide not too long ago.
• There’s always the smile-inducing Etsy.
• I found the Australian-based site Wishcraft, which is ethnically-focussed and fair trade.
• The stylish ibuTrade site works along similar lines.

What do you think?