I am a student of International Development. In my classes, I learn about injustice, power imbalance, poverty, the subjugation of women, racism, class disparities, ableism, and so on. It’s a very long list. Being the (ahem) good student that I am, I try and look at the world around me through the lenses I learn about in class.
A few days ago, I was in a shopping mall when I saw this sign:
It took me aback, because what I interpreted it as saying was that people should be defined by the clothes they wear. Which I definitely don’t agree with. So I took a picture of it, intending to comment on it later on this blog.
Later, walking out of the mall to the subway station, I passed by a woman sitting at a side of the road. She was begging for money and had a sign saying ‘I have four children’. It took me aback, because nobody should ever have to be in her place. But what did I do? Did I give her money? No. (Well, okay, giving her money probably wouldn’t have been the best idea anyway, being a band-aid solution.) So – did I help to connect her to resources where she might be able to find financial (and other forms of) assistance? No. Did I even look straight at her and acknowledge her presence? No.
No, I did not. I pretended that she did not exist. I walked past her like everybody else, like all the other non-students-of-development.
Sometimes, being a student of international development makes me feel like I have a moral high ground, like oh at least I’m learning about doing something. Or well now I know how misguided the bulk of ‘development efforts’ really are, I won’t make that mistake. But even though I knew what would have helped, I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it because it would be taking time out of my schedule. Because I was with my parents and I didn’t want to ‘waste their time’. Because, if I am willing to admit it to myself, I am a selfish, self-centred person who really doesn’t care all that much about people who don’t affect my life.1
I post about social issues fairly often, sometimes on my blog (when I have the time and brainpower) and often by sharing articles on Facebook. Happenings like what I just described make me think about the nature of social activism. In particular, activism as it occurs in my university campus and in some of my social media circles.
One of the reasons why I like my campus is that its culture is socially aware. There are campus groups for almost every minority that you could imagine, movements such as Black Lives Matter and Fossil Free made their mark visibly, and most of my lecturers are fairly progressive in their teachings – we even have a Centre for Critical Development, dedicated to social issues. Buzzwords like microaggressions and equity are known to most people in leadership roles. All in all, we’re a little bit like Tumblr, minus its fangirling.
But while I appreciate the fact that we get angry at everything oppressive, sometimes it feels like we just… get angry at everything. Everything we judge to be oppressive. (And since we’re in the 21st century, we now know what our elders didn’t, and of course we must be right 100% of the time. Or at least 99.9%. I’m being sarcastic.) It’s a little bit strange that although we like to say that everyone’s truth is different, if you impede on my truth then, well, I hate to say it but You Are Wrong. I’m not pointing fingers, since I see this from all quarters, most notably my own. But this means, I think, that sometimes we get a bit trigger-happy, publicly calling out people for things that are actually not so clear-cut. For instance: I met a Chinese student last week who had cornrows. My first thought was that she was appropriating Black culture. But I don’t know her history or why she chose to have cornrows. Perhaps she had a close Black friend who had cornrows, and this is her way of feeling close to her friend. I’m not saying that everything is a matter of opinion, or that people shouldn’t stand up for what they believe in. I’m just saying that sometimes we judge people without taking the time to know their stories and the background for their actions.2
So there’s that problem. Another problem is how we do the calling out. With the advent of social media, much of our private lives become public. I’ve seen friends post comments on other people’s Facebook statuses, publicly (and sometimes rudely) ‘calling them out’ for their oppressive words/behaviour. Sometimes I think that certain people’s ‘calling out’ is intended more to shame the other person. While there is a place for letting the public know what oppressive behaviour is, I don’t think shaming people for all the world to see is generally the way to do it. Shaming someone asserts a superior (moral) ground to them. But I don’t think anyone actually has superior moral grounds. Sure, I now know not to objectify trans people… but I still often don’t use people-first language. I still have internalized racism. I still don’t offer help to people who really need it. And you know what? I didn’t always know not to objectify trans people. I had to learn it. Maybe the other person just hasn’t learnt it yet, because no one’s told them without insulting or publicly shaming them in the process. (Having said that, there are some people who just… don’t… learn. But even so: they make mistakes – well, you know what, I make mistakes too. I’m no better than them.3) ‘Othering’ the ‘Otherer’ leads to decreased dialogue and increased hostility, instead of persuading them to listen.
A third problem that I think exists with getting angry is that it’s unproductive. I get this a lot from my International Development lecturers. One time, someone gave a talk about many of the problems facing the Global South. At the end in a Q&A section, she was asked: How do you suggest we tackle the problems? She replied: It’s different for everyone. I saw the answer as a cop-out. It’s very easy to point out the flaws in (other) people (and their theories). Not so easy to actually come out with something that works for both you and them.
And then there’s the post-on-Facebook-and-don’t-actually-do-anything movement. (See this picture for a laugh.) I do see the point in using social media to leverage more concrete action; Humans of New York with its recent stint in Iran and Pakistan is a fantastic example of social media used right. And Project Unbreakable is a way to not only spread awareness of sexual abuse, but also provide a way to help survivors make peace with their abuse. The problem arises when social media becomes the sole way of addressing problems, or when social media facilitates ‘disaster porn’ or ‘inspiration porn’. (Those underlined phrases are hyperlinks.)
The last problem that I find with getting angry at every piece of oppression is that it doesn’t reflect the actual magnitude of problems. There are problems, and then there are Problems. Someone once complained to me about right-handed privilege. I’m left-handed myself, and the lack of left-handed scissors in my high school classrooms definitely ticked me off on more than one occasion. But to stop people from using the term ‘right-hand man/woman/etc.’ because it suggests that right-handed people are superior to left-handed people… it’s an effort that I just can’t support. Because I have limited time and energy, and I’d rather spend it on helping someone else with mental illness with activities of daily living, than policing people on microaggressions against lefties. (I realize that there is still real prejudice against lefties in some parts of the world; a number of my naturally-left-handed friends have been forced, sometimes violently, to turn right-handed. But in Canada and the U.S., and in the world at large, I would argue (and you may disagree) that we have more pressing concerns.) So to pick out every wrong may, conversely, paralyse us from focusing on the more urgent, life-destroying forms of oppression and injustice. International development isn’t a zero-sum game, but there are still time and resource limitations.
I am not saying that we should stop pointing out instances of injustice. I’m not saying that we stop thinking critically about things people say. Or that we stop trying to understand the nature of society’s failures. Or that we stop using social media. Or that we classify types of injustice into ‘minor’ and ‘major’. I’m saying that we need to stop thinking that only we have the answer, and start having non-antagonistic dialogue with people who disagree with us. We need to stop thinking of ourselves as above reproach or morally pure, and start realizing that we too once made these mistakes, are still making other mistakes, and (by and large) have privilege of some form. We need to stop finding problems with other people’s thoughts, and start constructing things for ourselves. We need to stop objectifying people in difficult situations, and start recognizing our shared humanity. We need to stop being angry at every perceived offence to our sensibilities, and start focusing our attentions on issues of life and death.
So here it is, my thoughts on the problems with getting angry at everything. I know what I have said has plenty of flaws. (Actually I can think of counter-arguments to my points right now… but to put them in would make this post longer, and it’s already far too long… so I guess I’m counting on whoever even reads my posts to say something.) Feel free to disagree. I ask only that you do it respectfully, and with the intention of creating dialogue, not out of retaliatory anger. Thank you for reading this extremely long post.
1: I’m not being harsh on myself. For two reasons. Firstly, people are full of contradictions. Here on earth, it is possible for great good and great evil to exist in the same person. That’s not how it should be, but that’s how it is. Secondly, as a Christian I believe that God is still making me into someone better. I’m a work in progress.
2: Personally, I think absolute truth exists – but finding that absolute truth is far trickier than we’d like to believe. That being said, some people are closer to/further from it than others… for instance, I wouldn’t put Hitler anywhere near the ‘close to the truth’ section.
3: From a Christian point of view: the bible is filled with people who, though deeply flawed, are still used by God for good. I am no better than anyone else; it is God who redeems me. My ‘goodness’, compared to the mistakes of a serial killer, are like the height of a stack of paper compared to the height of one sheet of of paper – as seen from the rooftop of a 40-floor building. Perhaps I have made ‘fewer mistakes’, but compared to the absolute perfection of Jesus, they fade away into nothingness. Good thing, then, for the absolute redemption of Jesus…
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