For most of my life, I've believed America is mostly just. I've believed that that majority of Americans are not racist or sexist. I always knew Americans tended toward homophobia and religious bigotry, but the other two - claims about those things were overblown, attention seeking, playing the 'race/woman card'. If people would just stop focusing on our differences, we could live in a post-racial/post-gender society of equals. I was naive. I was blind. I was guilty of confusing my own experience with the experience of millions of others.
A steady diet of general media, and Fox News in particular, confirmed this bias of mine. My upbringing didn't help matters. I was raised in an environment that was mostly free of racism or sexism, at least overtly. I went to a diverse high school. I was raised by a single father-figure who never ever believed I was incapable of doing anything I wanted. My gender had no bearing on my intelligence, skill, or success. Overt racism or sexism was deemed unintelligent, low-class, the ridiculous 'credo' of people well outside of the norm. To me, the idea that the majority of people really believed black people are inclined to violence or women are emotional basket cases was silly rhetoric that makes for a good story but was not really representative of Americans in general.
My blindness to reality has shaped how I viewed many social problems/debates. I would not consider my old self 'racist' or 'internally misogynistic'. Never once did I believe that people of color or women deserved the treatment they were claiming to receive, I merely could not admit to myself such issues were any more than isolated, rare incidences. That is not to excuse myself, only clarify. I think where racism, sexism, creedism, homophobia, transphobia, etc is concerned we could all use a bit of nuance and clarification. All too often these issues are discussed with such black and white language that resentment and defensiveness are the only possible response. I was roped into that mentality myself.
Take 'white privilege', for instance. I still believe this concept is somewhat poorly used. Do I have inherent privilege because I was born white? Yeah. I do. People automatically assume (positive) things about me because I'm white that they should not assume. And they automatically assume (negative) things about people of color that they should not. There are, of course, other privileges and disadvantages. I'm a woman, so my ideas have to go through the 'is she reasonable or emotional' filter. My appearance is always a point of attack if I make a man on the internet mad. I say, 'on the internet' because most men don't feel as comfortable treating women the same way in person that they do as keyboard warriors. I came from a middle-class background, which gives me a lot of privilege over those born in lower economic classes, but much less privilege than those born into higher tax brackets.
In my journey to libertarianism this concept of individual responsibility both helps me understand 'privilege', as well as points out the errors in a 'privilege is everything' mentality. We are privileged. Let's go ahead and admit it. Becuase society sees us in ethnic/gender blocks whether we want them to or not. But we are also individuals. I'm only responsible for my own actions. I cannot be held accountable for the actions of others.
It is because of this rugged individualism, though, that it was a hard road coming to the point that I could admit I have privilege. As Americans, we don't like the idea of 'privilege'. While many European countries know very well some people are privileged and some are not, we are a nation of one big 'middle class'. No matter where you fall, unless you are living in poverty or are a millionaire, you probably think you are 'in the middle'. It is why 'middle class' rhetoric works so well. Everyone making between $30-200k a year pretty much thinks you are talking about him. It is this 'sameness' that also leads people, like myself, to believe identity injustice isn't really that common. We are all the same, right?
But we aren't the same. And it's a very privileged perspective that assumes that, because I cannot perceive an injustice, it simply does not exist.
Take, Black Lives Matter, for instance. The media would have you believe they are a bunch of rabble rousers looking for a cause. They've tied them to looting and rioting. They've delegitimized them. They've even made them responsible for cop murders they had absolutely no part in. Why? Well, for one, it sells. Race Wars are the best selling news. While I used to be inclined to believe people like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson were stoking these wars, it seems completely clear now that the media is the worst offender. And the media, at its core, reflects our own personal feelings. Becuase what is the media but a manifestation of what we want to see? Sure, it has its own agenda, but if it doesn't sell, it doesn't make the cut. And so, the issue of police brutality, specifically against black men, gets lost in 'race war'.
Trump's ascension has been eye opening on this front. I really, truly believed that most Americans were 'colorblind'. Clearly, I was very wrong. Bernie Bros have made it clear, as well, that even progressives can be pretty sexist. And that's not to say that the political narrative is what opened my eyes. It was a slow process that clicked into place and included getting to know a lot of new people with a lot of new perspectives as well as a few new life experiences of my own. Sure, Trumps' rhetoric opened my eyes to the scope of this problem, but I began to see it when I asked myself: why is it so important to me that I make sure people of color know that their problems are being overblown? Why is it so important for me to hammer home the concepts of 'due process' to people talking about the rape culture? Why do I become irrationally upset about the concept of 'white privilege'? Why am I so defensive about this?
Some of the answers are obvious. It's natural to be defensive when someone tells you that you have inherent privileges and therefore your voice is unwanted. Other things took me a long time to come to terms with. I'm defensive because my childhood view of the world is not accurate. I'm defensive because I don't want to believe this is how many Americans feel. I'm defensive because I love my country's Lockean principles and I often forget that America today is not 'America' the experiment.
And it is telling that I was always willing to admit that homophobia and religious bigotry are a part of American culture. I am atheist, after all. And I have a large number of close gay friends. I've seen those injustices with my own eyes, time and time again. My blindness to racial injustice is my ignorance of people's life experiences. My blindness to compassion for undocumented workers stemmed from my myopic world view. My blindness to sexism has been my stubborn need to prove women are not 'whiners'.
And so, as I feel uncomfortable with people being openly racist or sexist, it should make me just as uncomfortable to witness passive racism or sexism. It does not mean I'll always agree on the definition of Passive Racism. I do not believe asking someone where they are from is a 'microaggression'. I do not believe in speech codes. I do not believe that just because someone disagrees with me, it must be because I'm a woman. I do believe in due process and innocence until proven guilty. I use to think this precluded me from believing 'every' accuser/victim. It doesn't. I can believe someone when they say they have been raped, violated, a victim of racism, and also believe the accused deserves the presumption of innocence until proven guilty.
I should feel as uncomfortable knowing that while black people make up 13% of the population they make up 37% of the prison population. I should feel uncomfortable that 'stop and frisk' programs are designed to 'stop and frisk' young black and latino males regardless of probable cause. I should feel uncomfortable that the internet comment section's response to someone shot in the back while running away from a police officer is 'he should have done what he's told'. I should feel uncomfortable with the fact that black men were nine times more likely to be shot by police in 2015 than white men. I should feel uncomfortable that black people are followed around stores when they shop. I should feel uncomfortable that Hispanic people are assumed illegal. I should feel uncomfortable that undocumented immigrants are considered infiltrating vermin when they are really only people seeking a better life for their children. I should feel uncomfortable when I see how women's sexuality is so highly controlled while men's sexuality is not. I should feel uncomfortable knowing that personal attacks on women are so much more common than for men that it's not even worth comparing. I should feel uncomfortable that rape victims not only are often not believed, they can be prosecuted for false reporting even when there is no evidence they falsely reported. I should feel uncomfortable that there is still a concept of 'working mom' but not 'working dad'. I should feel uncomfortable that there are legislators who want to mandate health care for women.
And these things should make you uncomfortable too. If your gut reaction to this post is to feel defensive, fire up google and try to refute my claims, I get it. I understand. I was once you. But maybe, just as an exercise, instead of doing that, why don't you talk to someone who claims to have experienced this consistent racism or sexism. Talk to a Muslim American who doesn't feel accepted by society. Talk to that woman you know on fb who always keeps harping on the fact that she can't stand catcallers. Ask some of your friends of color how they feel and why. Hear them. Maybe you won't agree on all points. But for a moment try to put yourself in someone else's shoes and imagine how life looks from their perspective. If you still think racism, sexism, Islamaphobia, homophobia, religious bigotry is all bogus, okay. I tried.
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