#BLM - Listen, Learn, Action

Blog
Written By Lucy Danser

03.06.2020

I’m going to write something right now about what’s going on in the world. Not the Coronavirus for a change. What’s going on in the USA. What’s going on in the UK. All around the world. The racism. The murders. The brutality. I wasn’t going to write anything. I’m white. Very white. And I know that my voice isn’t one that needs to be amplified on this matter. Instead I engaged properly with what was going on. I watched the news, spoke to friends attending protests, read a lot of stuff and listened to what my black friends had to say. And then I saw white people being urged to speak up. Not to speak over black people but to add their voices to the mix. To stop worrying about ‘getting it wrong’ and accept that that’s a possibility. But not to stay silent. So I’ll write this. And then I’ll continue working on listening again.

I’ll be honest. It took me a long time to understand what the word intersectional meant. Like way too long. I’m embarrassed by that because I have no excuse. Despite having the privilege of being intelligent enough and well educated, I had always struggled with engaging with politics. Some of my reasons were more decent than others but ultimately, after years of saying I wasn’t ‘into politics’ I’d finally actually learned the concept of that being a) a privilege to say and b) ridiculous. I was starting to dip my toe into the realities of life I’d shied away from and in educating myself about feminism in particular I came across the word ‘intersectional’. I was being freshly exposed to a variety of terms and histories and concepts that were pretty novel to me and, since I was using online forums for a lot of this research, being bombarded by a cacophony of different voices that were very often clashing intensely. My brain was struggling to take everything in and, although I could see intersectionality was defined as ‘related to the way in which different types of discrimination are linked to and affect each other’ (Cambridge Dictionary), I genuinely don’t think that I truly understood what it meant straight away beyond a very basic appreciation that feminism, for example, didn’t mean the same for a black woman as it did for a white woman.

I was opinionated about what I learned and, at the time, thought I was being balanced and fair. But in hindsight I wasn’t always. I meant well but I’ve definitely made mistakes and judged things based on my own experiences. I saw what I had as standard rather than being built on what someone else didn’t have. Nowadays I learn more through reading both published books and also blogs/posts than I do from engaging in conversations on social media or trawling through comments. It’s easier not to be distracted by other white people who feel threatened, not to have to deal with multiple opinions at once and it forces me to properly process what I’m consuming and feeling before engaging with anyone else about it. The information I get from books is usually more nuanced, more thought out and articulated over various edits while the blogs and posts I read are probably angrier and more live. Both are important to me. This way of learning is how I finally properly comprehended the meaning of intersectionality in the world. How I finally understood that the crossover of race, gender, sexuality, disability or more will uniquely affect someone’s experience in the world. But more than that, I understood emotionally what that actually means and ways to start addressing it, rather than simply just being able to quote it off-hand.

I find it mad now that, despite growing up in a multi-cultural area of London, despite my closest childhood friend and neighbour being black and despite being regularly exposed to people of all different ethnicities pretty much every single day, I still had such a superficial understanding of racism in the UK and the US. When I went to South Africa, a country I’d studied and discussed openly with friends directly affected, I somehow understood the issues with racism there on a deeper level. I was aware of my standing as a white woman socialising with a mostly non-white group, met a lot of interesting people, visited the apartheid museum, was encouraged to ask questions and taken to a lot of differently affected people and areas. But in my home country I feel that I spent a surprisingly long time assuming that we didn’t have these sorts of issues. In the US I knew it was more problematic but did I believe it was on this scale? No, I suppose not.

Intersectional was just one of many words that I knew the definition of before I really understood its real life effects. So was the phrase White Privilege. Representation. Microaggressions. I heard them so often without engaging that they felt empty. Just words. And one day, suddenly, they weren’t anymore. They carried meaning that I could affix directly to things I saw around me, problems, solutions, situations and more. When someone said them I couldn’t shrug them off anymore. I get why people don’t want to engage with this stuff if they don’t feel they have to because what you learn is that life is ever more complicated and scary and threatening for people than you ever realised. That you’re guilty of making things worse without even realising that. Sometimes when those feelings of guilt pop up it feels necessary to tamp them down rather than deal with them and I think sometimes I have done that. But in the last few years I don’t think I have.

I don’t usually write about this stuff. If you read my blog or follow me online I talk mostly about books, my dog, theatre, my Grandma accidentally discussing blow jobs with her hairdresser or my husband coming home from the supermarket with seven bottles of a random ingredient. I don’t write about this sort of stuff because honestly I’m scared to. I can do the listening and learning part of being an ally, but it’s the speaking out bit I’ve maybe not done enough of. What scares me is that this piece was written with the best of intentions. Yet I’m sure I’ve still made mistakes. I’m sure I’ve said things wrong. I anticipate being called out on that. I’m constantly anxious about even a single negative response. This might be my one and only article drawing attention to myself in this matter for obvious reasons. BUT. If you are someone who wants to learn more or want to do something active right now I’ve included some sources below that I’ve found useful. So if you’re also seeing calls for people to educate themselves or if you’re struggling to understand what’s going on at the moment then there are a variety of links below. Depending on how you prefer to learn they include non-fiction and fiction books, memoirs, films, documentaries, TV Series, instagrams and websites. There’s places to donate to if you have the money or petitions to sign and share. Happy to add to this if you have any questions or recommendations.

Here are some sources friends and I have found useful and you can access if you want to learn more. I’ll add to this as I continue to read/watch etc:

If you prefer to learn through reading fiction and memoir/watching plays and films:

  • The Colour Purple by Alice Walker (book and film)

  • The Hate You Give by Angie Thomas (suitable for YA readers too)

  • An American Marriage by Tayari Jones

  • The Mothers by Brit Bennett

  • Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng / TV Series on Hulu and Amazon Prime (this isn’t written by a black author but I found many of the conversations about race accessible and effective)

  • I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

  • Hunger by Roxane Gay

  • The Barbershop Chronicles by Inua Ellams (play)

  • Fences by August Wilson (film and play)

  • Sweat by Lynn Nottage (play)

  • Clybourne Park by Bruce Norris (play)

  • The Central Park Five (Documentary)

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Lucy Danser
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