What Allyship means in the BLM Movement Struggle

 

 Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced

                                                         James Baldwin

     In an interview I gave back in the summer of last year, a student journalist asked me whether I felt safer in Europe than I would, had I been situated in the USA. This interview happened in the wake of Georg Floyd’s hideous murder that saw protests and civil unrest in major corners of the globe. This question is not new to me. I have been previously asked if I was grateful for the opportunities this country has provided by people who call this place home, as if oblivious that such a strange concept as racism would exist in Europe. Yes, it does.

   And when George Floyd lay helplessly struggling to breathe because of that knee, that feeling of helplessness resonated with me. Most of us ‘BIPOCs’ have been and are in one way or the other structurally knelt on. We constantly have to prove to Whiteness that we deserve to be here. Sometimes even when qualified, we are trusted the least. Like author Amiri Baraka once said, to be black is “the torture of being the unseen object, and the constantly observed subject.” 

     But how do we change this European complacency of racism?  It does not need to knee someone to death to talk about the obvious existential racism and discrimination. And allyship does not only mean going to a protest and going back to your privilege(s). Start with your environment such as families and jobs, if not raising awareness, call them out because as far as Europe and my black body is concerned, ‘I still can’t breathe.’

 

    Ps. I consciously used inverted commas on the term BIPOC because some part of me finds this term disturbing. I wrote an article on it here http://sitieneikiprono.blogspot.com/ ‘I am not a Person of Colour.’

     The below articles act as a reminder of the grave urgency of the quest to an equitable and just world. 

https://www.politico.eu/article/us-style-civil-rights-protests-come-to-europe-george-floyd-black-lives-matter/

https://www.socialeurope.eu/black-lives-matter-in-europe-too

 

Hengameh Yaghoobifarah’s recent talk on "White Feminism is Racism" at my University was a grave reminder of the underlying tone of the conspicuous dismissiveness of the existing white fragility in feminism.Yaghoobifarah’s allusion that white feminism has toxic tendencies in ignoring the plight of the non-white marginalized women it purports to support while benefiting from the position of power and pseudo solidarity was as expected not warmly received based on the audience’s faces, which was predominantly white and female. It reminded me of the film Green Book.

© Kennedy Carroll Photography

The film depicts the story of a racist Italian-American bouncer from the Bronx named Tony Vallelonga, alias Tony Lip played by Danish actor Viggo Mortensen, who is hired by African American classical pianist Dr. Don Shirley, played by Mahershala Ali, as a personal driver on a two-month concert tour through the Jim Crow deep segregated south in 1962.  As an avid film fanatic, the film has a touching plot of the harsh reality black people endured during the time in the confederate states.

The film unfolds the struggles of being black: that regardless of how good you are, at the end of the day, you are still a nigger. The film however attempts to reiterate that not all hope is gone as Vallelonga a racist, apparently stops being one after befriending Dr. Shirley, a life-long friendship that lasted until their deaths just months between each other in 2013. What a beautiful ending, to have one less racist, was my initial thought.

The film was praised for the performance. It even got Mahershala Ali an Oscar for best supporting actor.

Yet, as a black person watching this film, I was deeply disturbed, almost similar to how uncomfortable I felt during Yaghoobifarah's talk. Feminism and racism are only good and worth it if it makes white people feel comfortable. When marginalized people do not leave a place feeling good or heard, the objectives we are gearing towards have not been comprehensively accomplished. Green Book and white feminism are a slap to marginalized people’s faces and self-congratulatory to white people for feeling involved, while scrambling for a seat at an all-white table. A tale of Altruistic Egoism.

This movie and contemporary white feminism are produced, driven by and for white people. Yaghoobifarah made this point about white feminism and you knew it hit home by how uncomfortable the room was. Yaghoobifarah mentioned at how black feminists that raise the same voice as their white counterparts towards injustices are usually categorised as being too stubborn, too loud or too obnoxious. A grave similarity is illustrated in the film with Dr. Shirley’s confrontation with the racist policemen, or with the restaurant owner towards the end, while Tony Lip is represented as brave.

Feminism is about fighting against injustices and patriarchy, albeit white feminism, mostly in universities has predominantly focused on intent while disregarding impact consequently giving the subtle implication that its main cause is fighting for a seat and getting an equal piece of cake on the patriarchal table of oppression.

If you enjoy the Taylor Swift, Emma Watson types of feminists, I would be surprised if you do not fall into this category.

Angela Davis puts it profoundly well in her speech, “Frameworks for Radical Feminism.” She says “Feminism that do not also address racism and capitalism will always misapprehend the meaning of gender equality…equality cannot be conceptualized without foregrounding racial and economic equality. Racial, economic, and gender justice are inextricably connected; one is not possible without the others.”

The problem with white feminism is that it constantly feels attacked whenever Intersectional Feminism is mentioned. An epitome of White Fragility as sociologist Robin Di Angelo calls it, where “even a minimum amount of racial stress becomes intolerable, triggering a range of defensive moves … includ[ing] the outward display of emotions such as anger, fear, and guilt, and behaviours such as argumentation, silence, and leaving the stress-inducing situation.”

I have personally met white feminists who assume they cannot be sexist or racist. It is not fundamentally mutually exclusive. An anti-racism can still be racist, you can be a feminist and still be sexist. These are the feminists that will protest with you on the streets against all forms of injustices and systematic segregation but still go to Kabinett der Kuriositäten and the Fusion Festival.

The effects of identity politics, critical whiteness and intersectional feminism is adamantly required: which lacks a great deal at most German Universities.

Twitter user Pierrot on May 13, 2018 commented that “the failure of academic feminists to recognize difference as a crucial strength is a failure to reach beyond the first patriarchal lesson. In our world, divide and conquer must become define and empower.”

The long history of side-lining the perspective of black people in favour of whites and their stories in movies and activism should be rigorously scrutinised.

Therefore, contemporary marginalized intellectuals should not shy away from “condemnation of “academic feminism” or what today we would call white feminism: feminism reliant on and benefiting from capitalist patriarchy at the expense of marginalized women” (Incognito, 2018).

When was the last time a black female speaker gave a talk at your university or environment? The few black feminists who stand up to white feminism become the nemesis. It comes as no surprise that working together becomes a huddle as the former feel excluded. And I do not feel that it is black women’s business to bridge the divide either. To the contrary, “It is white people’s responsibility to be less fragile; (black people and) people of colour don’t need to twist themselves into knots trying to navigate us as painlessly as possible” (Di Angelo).

So dear black women, the next time you see a placard or screams of “My Body, my Choice,” you should probably question whether you are included, because the people  holding those placards do not have you in mind, unless they share the same skin colour. 

There is nevertheless a glimpse of hope when such brave souls like Yaghoobifarah stand up to be counted in the face of bullying and intimidation.  The first step towards solving a problem is recognizing there is one. White feminism is toxic, very hetero-patriarchal and a tool that continually oppresses BI “POC” and LGBTQIA. The sooner we embrace intersectionality, the stronger we sail against this patriarchal ocean.

Oh, if you felt triggered, this post was exactly meant for you.

I am Not a Person of Colour

Image source: Australian Critical Race and Whiteness Association.

My university just concluded its Students’ Parliamentary election (STUPA Wahl) and I could not be any more relieved to have the back of the campaign posters that constantly reminded me of identity politics. 

My specific attention was on one of the posters campaigning for more inclusion of the People of Colour (POC’s) in the general university affairs due to perceived underrepresentation of non-white students. Diversity is good, nonetheless, as a black man I, loathe to be identified as a Person of Colour.

This term gives me a strange feeling that white people have whole-heartedly embraced it because labelling a person black carries a negative connotation insinuating that it is wrong to be black in the first place. It is not wrong to see colour, it is what you do with it.

People of Colour cements a concealed perception that white is the palpable standard and everyone else is another. It catalyses the we (which is the norm) vs them categorisation. Due to the sensitive nature of identity, it has become a safe term in identifying every non-white person to avoid having tough conversations.

I concur that the term Person of Colour seems distinctly sapid to the ear because of its conventional political correctness nature. The term has been widely accepted by modern-day progressives after Martin Luther King popularised it in his 1963 I Have a Dream speech when he referred to the collective victims of white supremacy as “Citizens of Colour.” Nevertheless, the term People of Colour has a longer history as it was the term used for slaves in the Prohibition of the Slave Importation Act of 1807. Historically, this term has been used to describe people of African heritage.

 In the contemporary discourse, it is used as a sort of a political solidarity platform to identify people who are not beneficiaries of a culture of white privilege. It acknowledges that minority groups have been systematically disenfranchised and therefore share recurrent experiences and concerns; rightfully so. And I commend the idea behind the term, albeit it gives the notion that all non-white minorities conform to some sort of solidarity out of a common struggle, we don’t!

Putting “People of Colour” as one homogenous group implicitly suggests that there is no anti-black hatred within the PoC community. The majority of the overt racism I have faced is from non-black communities of colour. You would be surprised by the inconceivable trans /homophobia from the PoCs. There is a hierarchy in the PoC and admittedly black people fall at the bottom as well. My struggle as a black man cannot be compared to that of an Asian/ South American man. I have my own struggles which only a black man can relate to. A black Muslim woman has struggles which a Taiwanese or Argentinian woman cannot relate to. For white people to put us in a proverbial box that non-white people share a common struggle is ignorant and undoubtedly far-fetched from the truth.

If we continue sticking to People of Colour as a term to identify any non-white people, we will never move forward in the quest for justice and equality as the mentality will always stick that people falling into this merged category are lesser than white people.

I sympathise with the experiences minority groups face but I am an individual; a black one at that, and it is not wrong to identify me as one. My experiences are individual. Give me a chance to define my identity, ask me about my lived experiences if you care but stop shoving me into a box with people who cannot relate to my pain and suffering as a black person because you want to feel comfortable. Generalisations make people feel comfortable.

PS: Image source: Australian Critical Race and Whiteness Association.

 I recently met with an AIESEC representative who intended to recruit me into their program. The idea of AIESEC is to connect like-minded people from around the globe travelling for reasons such as leisure and internships. The organization is run by students, or so I was told. The idea of connecting globally with other international students is a rational move when opting to undertake an internship in whatever part of the world. I was interested to meet one of their representatives and was far from impressed on learning that the majority of their associations are in the “Global south” (Whoever came up with such a silly term) or worse off “Entwicklungsländer.” Anything with Entwicklung on it is toxic.
So the representative’s argument on why I should consider working with them ranged from the chance to travel, learn new cultures and impact people’s lives. For some reason it made me think of Christopher Columbus.

When you’re welcomed to their homepage with a picture of some privileged white person holding some black children and notes such as “If we don’t change the world, then who will?”, bore me skepticism. Inexperienced students working for such an organization, who mostly also manage their website neither justifies nor warrants such ignorance.

Also, the notion of having to pay a certain amount of in order to get their services every time you want to volunteer abroad leaves a lot to be desired, bearing the fact that almost all their student employees are unpaid. Where does the money go to?
I have never been fond of the idea of some privileged students travelling to some country in Africa, Asia, or South America to impact communities on issues like health, environment, or education. The irony is usually when say a non-native speaker from Bad Homburg who just started studying Anthropology going to teach English in some school in the outskirts of Accra.
 
The best one yet was a project on their website which “(…) aims to increase awareness of Chinese heritage and culture. You will have the opportunity to experience Chinese culture and educate the Chinese youth about the importance of protecting their heritage.” We are privileged white kids, let’s go to a country and teach them about their affairs. I mean one must really have a self-centeredness problem, when you think it’s your responsibility to go and change something, which cannot be solved locally without your assistance. Talk of the white man’s burden.

 Essentially what AIESEC perpetuates is as historian Agnieszka Sobocinksa clearly points out in her book, First Overland: London-Singapore by Landrover “the archetype of explorer or hero who use (…) travel as a means for personal development.” an incarnation of contemporary neo-imperialism.
Without forgetting the amount of jobs lost by the locals to accommodate some unskilled European students, further creating an automatic social and economic divide in which the “global south“ is further disadvantaged. The reeks of late capitalism are brought into play.
If you deem yourself reflective and altruism is your prime motivation for seeking to change anything, stay away from AIESEC.

http://www.ndr.de/nachrichten/niedersachsen/Wie-Studenten-fuer-sauberes-Trinkwasser-sorgen,trinkwasserfilter100.html

Part 1.
....so I'm working and I meet these overly nice German couple who tell me how much they love foreigners ; I keenly listen.They go on to ask me if I'm a refugee. Having been brought up well, I give them the answer they want to hear. They further ask me if I'm happy I'm out of Africa and all its miseries, if I'm happy to be in Germany and if I intend to live here for the rest of my life...and bham, the answer they receive is not what they anticipated. I notice this by the look on their faces,as if to say.'' Then go back to where you came from.''Before they respond, I wish them a good evening, and confidently laughers away. I think to myself, ah, they're liberals and caring but ignorant. I throw a benefit of doubt in my innate monologue and move on.

Part 2.
...I go to the Uni, meet up with this acquaintance of mine who studies ethnology. She's been to my country for 3 months,now she's become an expatriate on matters concerning Africa; or so I thought. She tells me about how I'm not supposed to say tribe when talking about ethnicities in Kenya because her professor said so, and he knows better as he studied African 'ethnicities'. I'm listening... she's goes on to mention how glad she is to have helped children in Kenya during her 3-month stay there and how she wants connections to go back and help the country (Inbox if anyone knows someone that can help). I listen attentively. You better guess what's going on in my mind. Needless to mention, she is very left.
Part 3.
I come home and read that some 3 students from Hannover just saved Kenya and my day is made. I call my parents. They should brace themselves as the saviours are bound to knock on their door anytime.

My sentiments.
I've met some very interesting and good white liberals who care for the welfare of the 'Ausländer' but a good number are doing more harm than good in this quest. The liberal arrogance is infuriating and it's time something is done to solve this menace. The last grip is almost getting lost! This is not the direction I hoped we would be headed towards at this point in time. Who is left to be taken seriously, I ponder.
Those who stand aside and watch, are not only a big problem, but also those aforementioned ignorant liberals and anyone who falls into that category and it's time action was taken.

Oh before I forget to remember:
On behalf of Kenya and every other country in Africa that has been saved by the white man or woman(before some quarter throws stones at me), we thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Keep up with the initiative and we look forward to your bettering of our apparent hell hole.
Thank you!

A reflection of the cold windy winter evenings?  

Somewhere between what she thought she was

and what she was becoming was essentially where she was meant to be.

Perhaps she was starting to love the journey

 And find the comfort in the quiet corners of her wildest dreams

She was not always this way.

 Even if she didn’t change

She made me always comfortable sharing my worst decisions 

And indiscretions with the world

I remember the way it always felt, drowning in the muck, 

And dancing in the rain

And I’d fall sick and promised myself to change my world

But I’ve always been attracted to the things that rip my heart out, love, dreams, broken people,

Pretty words from dirty faces that play with me in the rain

Without the phobias of the heart, 

The panic attacks or terrors

In sorrow we write,

In anger we smile

In sleep we walk

In thought we walk, 

In misery we wake,

In happiness we speak

In shyness we shine from hiding

Bury our conventional way of thinking alive

There’s fire in her belly, and a passion to ignite it

She is cold on the outside, but warm and innately enticing

The princess of my fridge…….

( Read from bottom to top

                                                      

                                                           That Broken Woman

                   

 The most beautiful amongst us all seem to be slightly broken, women especially.

The ones worth knowing are sometimes beyond repair.

A broken guitar with weak strings but deep inside you know could still play amazingly.

Just read her, learn her, love her. Don’t try to make sense of her past, or predict her future.

Most of us fools attempt to fix her.

Who she was, is not who she is and is certainly not who she would be.

You’re not meant to understand her entirely. She is not sure who she is either.

Let her sing her song, dance her tune, pen down her own poetry.

Watch and enjoy every moment of it.

Repairing her breaks her more. Take those morning walks.

Sip that morning coffee coagulating on the outside of our favorite mugs.

Listening to the slow rhythm of the good old Manu Chao

Make her realize there’s passion between those short breaths and deep gazes.

Passion that is so real and genuine that she would never dream of looking for it from someone else.

Passion that makes her body quiver and her legs tremble

I mean a passion she lacks words to describe

Make her realize her worth and how strong she is

You should not be everything she requires

But your arms should feel like home

A place she can invite herself and tell you how it feels.

It’s the broken hearted and the unworthy that piece themselves together

Make her relinquish that anxiety

It’s the kind of strength to be proud of

Then smile and read that unfinished novel in your shelf.