As I say every day of my life, labels (other than the ones for ingredients) are an annoying reality of politics and social discourse. We’re all a party of one when you get down to it, with our own problematic or individual views that don’t align with the movements we follow or the company we keep.
I want campus’ to be welcoming and safe for everyone who wants an opportunity to learn. The loosely defined study of “identity politics” or “intersectionality,” which look at the contexts of race, orientation, gender, and whatever else makes a person who they are, has done great things in making sure the people who don’t conform to the majority have their needs met and are able to contribute to what makes this place a centre of learning. Yet at the same time there has been backlash, not all of it unwarranted, that accuses that social movement of stifling discussion and debate. Much like the hit ‘90s single by Hoobastank, none of us are perfect.
I’ve gone on the record as being in favour of people using whatever language or vulgarity they need to get their voice heard. Protest is important. But the tools that we use to punch up against a broken or uncaring system aren’t the most effective when we use them against other people.
We’ll use racism as an example, and use the straightforward definition of it being like prejudice (unconscious or not) instead of systemic or institutional racism. Racism is messed up, and in a Western context most reasonable people in this age would say treatment in the past of minorities was wrong. Yet the belief that things have been fixed is so ingrained that people are unaware that racism has just become less blatant and is still an issue for people of colour. (I hate that phrase.) So when we talk about racism of the less obvious sort, people inevitably get defensive if we characterize them as racist. While some of that can’t be helped, I do think the stress of “call out culture” is hurting more than it helps.
You see, it feels good to call someone out for being shitty; not only does it for that short moment stop whatever shitty thing is happening, but it also lets everyone around you know that you are super woke and down with the movement. It’s useful in de-normalizing racism and getting people aware of the issue, but when it’s our only tool of discourse not only does it lose its edge (as it’s used in increasingly petty ways), but it becomes the instinctual response rather than a reasoned one. It’s easier to shame then it is to explain. Yet once it happens, where does it leave the person being called out?
I’m not saying it’s anyone’s job to coddle or educate, all I’m saying that if any part of you wants to kick the ball further down the field it’ll require the cooperation of ***some people you might not want to associate with. It might not end up being the person you talk to, but there is a fair chance if you try and have a real conversation — one where they can see you as a person and you them — we might start developing some of that empathy and trust that we need going forward. A recently published study by David Broockman and Joshua Kalla titled “Durably reducing transphobia: A field experiment on door-to-door canvassing” is among many that highlight the effectiveness of conversation and trust building in bridging gaps.
Who are we building these bridges to? Not the white nationalists too far gone, but the folk who are facing hard times and find immigrants an easy scapegoat. Not Steve Bannon, put possibly Joe the plumber. When do we do this? Whenever you have the time. Talk to someone who’s different from yourself, share each other’s lived experiences. Or don’t, living in a bubble can be fun too.
