Race and Gender

*Hajer Al-Faham is the first student to wade into the waters of blogging this semester! Below, Hajer offers her thoughts on our class readings this week, all of which tackle the complex intersections between race and gender.*

By Hajer Al-Faham

The intersection of multiple identities is at the forefront of this week’s readings. Race, gender, sexuality, and class are among the key identities that the authors use as analytical frameworks. From my perspective, these readings continue to be relevant and timely as they are useful in illuminating power dynamics, marginalization, and fissures within communities. Beginning with Sojourner Truth’s painful speech “Aint I a Woman?” the reader’s attention is drawn to the difference in treatment between white men, white women, and women of color in the United States. She opens with a remark made by a man who insists that women need to be accommodated, and she juxtapositions this with her own experiences. Rather than being helped “into carriages, and lifted over ditches,” as this man insists, she was subjected to the horrors that slavery entailed—the backbreaking labor, the minimal access to basic needs, and the loss of her children through the American market for buying and selling African people.[1]

The experience of gendered racism that Truth describes is present in Paula Giddings analysis of the Women’s movement. Although feminism benefited from the gains of Black liberation movements, it was not inclusive of Black women nor was it concerned with racism or racial violence. Giddings suggests that African American women did not “rise en masse” against sexism for two main reasons: racism was a more demanding burden and they were moving up the ranks within Black organizations[2]. I find the first reason more compelling because racism in the United States has and will always frame all of our interactions with society and the state. Moreover, I find the Women’s movement to be problematic because it generally pursues its goals through an Anglo Christian, cis-gender, and middle-class lens. In addition, I find it difficult to relate to the experience of white women because they access privilege from the success of their male counterparts and being cast as the feminine ideal. The former is demonstrated through the economic benefits that are gained from being the daughter, wife, or sister of white men and the latter is demonstrated through the global beauty standards (based on white women) and the intense violence Black men historically faced at the mere accusation of violating a white woman.

Claudine Gay and Katherine Tate’s discussion of the Women’s movement is also demonstrative of the ways in which the needs and goals of women of color were overlooked. The authors explain that for some white feminists, the concerns of Black women with addressing racism were “essentially divisive and counter-revolutionary.” [3] The failure of the Women’s movement to address the often-violent racism encountered by women of color, in my opinion, protects the status quo. When I reflect on my experiences, I don’t identify the most pressing source of oppression in my life as originating from the men in my community, like my father, brother or uncle. It has been my experience that the prevalent anti-Arab, anti-Muslim sentiment in the West has most limited my opportunities and exposed me to discrimination, unsafe conditions, and disrespect. I am also concerned about the relationship between feminism and imperialist projects. After September 11, feminism was used to legitimize the invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq in order to “liberate” Afghan and Iraqi, Muslim women[1]. Moreover, it is often implicitly understood that Muslim and Middle Eastern men are somehow more misogynistic or sexist than white men. This in turn is used to justify and build support for a range of repressive actions including racial profiling, detention, and war.

Given the challenges that my community has faced, I am sympathetic to the claim that unity in the face of adversity is important for survival. However, I am cognizant of the damaging consequences of misogyny. Given the problematic link between feminism and oppression of Arab and Muslim communities, I argue that discussions and activities aimed at dismantling misogyny should be led and carried out exclusively by Arab and Muslim women in ways that make the most sense for our needs and our people. Rather than operating from a white, Christian, middle-class lens, we need to develop our own approach to addressing gender dynamics.

Cathy Cohen also discusses internal community tensions and explains how the most disempowered members of a marginalized group often face stigma and policing at the hands of the more elite members of their community. Cohen refers to this process as hyper or secondary marginalization[2]. She explains that the more elite members of a group attempt to build respect and legitimacy for their community by managing the behaviors of their fellow community members. The intended goal is to demonstrate to the dominant group in society that one’s community behaves in a way that is in line with societal norms. In doing so, the well being of the most vulnerable members of an oppressed group is often compromised. While I am convinced of Cohen’s analysis, I want to know, can communities untangle themselves from respectability politics? If so, what does that process look like? Moreover, if we choose to reject respectability politics, how do we engage with the norms of society and the state? These are some of the questions that I would like to continue to examine throughout this semester.