On Solidarity

As a white, cisgender, upper middle class male who advocates for the economic, political, and social equality of women, I often wonder where my niche exists within the feminist movement. Furthermore, as my understanding of feminism develops, I see many critiques of those within the movement and about what issues they prioritize, which exacerbates my concern over my position. From Twitter topics like #solidarityisforwhitewomen to terms like TERFs, or Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminists, my original view of feminism as simply a movement that combats issues like unequal pay and the removal of sexual double standards has been challenged and the concept of feminism as a unified group that shares, in Rebecca West’s words, “the radical notion that women are people” has expanded to become more nuanced.

Considering the ways in which race, gender, socioeconomic status, locality, physical ability, and so on intersect, then how does a feminism that encompasses such diverse people as white women and men, women and men of color, and transgender women and men of a variety of ages, physical abilities, and global location as well as such an extensive range of issues, from the seemingly superficial, like non-utilitarian clothing or body hair length, to the crippling economic, such as the gender wage gap, achieve solidarity? Are there competing interests among the issues feminists battle? How does one prioritize issues without excluding someone else? And largely, what does it mean to call oneself a feminist? (E.g., Robin Thicke, who popularized the controversial “Blurred Lines” with lyrics indicative of rape culture’s notions of ‘I know you want it’ now considers himself a feminist and even credits himself with starting a new form of the feminist movement.)

Solidarity seems to become problematic at the intersection of identity labels. That is to say, since no one individual exists merely as a woman, but rather as a woman of a particular race, in a particular place, of a particular class, she may have interests that compete with other women of different backgrounds. So then does feminism become an expansive checklist of different issues that all agree on, which begs the question can these groups overcome the problems between these other identities to unify? And then to what extent does feminism vary from a humanitarian movement focused on women's issues? For example, if feminists focus on ending female genital mutilation in Somalia, is that intervention ethnocentric instead of humanitarian? It seems that those aware and capable of preventing physical harm to others should try to alter those behaviors. However, we run into a problem of whether or not this constitutes physical harm, and many Somalian women would argue that it is a cultural practice; therefore, should we simply let the Somalian feminists advance this cause? As a result of these conflicts, I wonder then if it is possible even for the movement to achieve global cohesiveness.
Furthermore, if feminism is an expansive checklist of different issues, then how do we decide our priorities while being sensitive to other groups? For example, some point out mainstream rap lyrics’ rampant sexism. They cringe when Childish Gambino raps “Half Thai thickie/All she wanna do is Bangkok” or Kendrick Lamar states “See my standards are pampered by threesomes tomorrow” or any suggestion of shaking ass for the heterosexual male gaze – and rightfully so in that women’s bodies become a vehicle for men to achieve masculinity -- however, people’s prioritization of this to the exclusion of discussing the sexism inherent in other predominantly white lyricists suggests a racist notion and an assumption that could marginalize people of color. Another instance occurs with class differences; for example, as Jezebel  blogger Ninjacate points out, many feminists “cheekily denounce ‘twitter feminism’ as useless, without considering that twitter is the main medium through which less economically privileged women (usually women of colour) can put their feminism into practice.” To use a more personal example, as a white male, I often wonder if my speaking out in class – even in a class focused on sexism and where my contribution would hopefully further this conversation -- is itself a function of my white, male privilege and whether or not utilizing thator divesting it would be better. In some sense, my constant discussion seems to contribute to networks of oppression. 

 To that end, I would consider that we must be very self-aware in determining our places in the larger feminist movement. For instance, given I, a white male, have a limited amount of time and energy, I should personally prioritize my energies in the areas my white, male privilege would best serve, such as combating sexual assault by talking to men about how they can stop rape and about how the objectification of women promotes rape culture. I furthermore must be constantly critical and check my privilege so that I do not trump others’ effort.

I do not think that feminists' diversity of interests creates issues that are mutually exclusive; however, public critique of these interests and where they compete is necessary to promote a more unified movement. We must use our privilege to promote the voices of those who are squelched and listen to marginalized voices' concerns in the movement.