Me and White Supremacy : Day 9 Journal Questions
I’m leading a group discussion circle on “Me and White Supremacy” by Layla F. Saad. I’m taking the journaling challenge daily throughout February even though I’m not white. If you happen to be white, why not take the challenge? If I can do it, you can do it too.
Day 9 Questions (from the text):
1. Think about the country you live in. What are some of the national racial stereotypes — spoken and unspoken, historic and modern — associated with Black women?
2. What kinds of relationships have you had and do you have with Black women, and how deep are these relationships?
3. How do you think about Black women who are citizens in your country differently from those who are recent immigrants?
4. How have you treated darker-skinned Black women differently from lighter-skinned Black women?
5. What are some of the stereotypes you have thought and negative assumptions you have made about Black women, and how have these affected how you have treated them?
6. How have you expected Black women to serve or soothe you?
7. How have you reacted in the presence of Black women who are unapologetic in their confidence, self-expression, boundaries, and refusal to submit to the white gaze?
8. How have you excluded, discounted, minimized, used, tone policed, or projected your white fragility and white superiority onto Black women?
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A Black woman I work closely with was recently invited to speak at an event. In the event descriptor, they described her as a “warrior woman”. This was meant as a compliment and a testament to how hard she works toward her aims. She however didn’t see it that way, offered an explanation as to why, and respectfully asked the writer to change it, which they then did without question. It wasn’t the writer’s fault really, as a member of another culture they were unaware of the “warrior” trope often used to describe black women.
The next day as I was discussing this incident with her, I described her work ethic as “superhuman”. I thought I was being careful not to fall into the same trap as the writer of the article above did, but lo and behold, it took my reading this chapter to realize that was no better a descriptor. It’s not a mistake I intend to repeat, as superhumanization can be as harmful as dehumanization — both perpetuate unrealistic standards, and distort the truth. Not being able to live up to impossible standards and expectations as a woman is just as bad as having the accomplishments that you do live up do be further reduced, minimized, or altogether overlooked due to being Black.
An understanding of intersectionality is necessary to properly understand how the Black woman is treated and seen by a cis-het white male society. I liken it to an optometrist’s phoropter — that multi-lens tool that the eye doctor uses where the lenses are layered upon one another to compound the distortion of the view. In this case, double-standards applied to women are superimposed on top of double-standards applied to Blacks. So from the white gaze, Black women are placed in a near-impossible conundrum, and are continually asked to embody and have multiple and often competing identities all at once. Superimpose yet again for Black trans women, and you begin to understand just how intersectionality multiplies the lack of privilege overall.
Having been raised by a Black woman with a strong work ethic and sense of self definitely plays a part in how I show up (or don’t show up) for Black women I know today:
- I assume by default that they are in a position of authority. That they are to be respected and revered — even before they’ve earned that respect.
- I have a fear of letting down the Black women I know, especially when that might cause them to see me in a less-than-ideal light. I’ve done that false attribution of assigning them authority roles. This manifests in two seemingly contradictory ways — either I jump to the false conclusion that they often don’t need for me to offer them help so I’m not as quick to offer it as I am for others; or, when I do realize I can help a black woman I almost trip over myself to do so, overextend myself, and in my eagerness, make promises I may or may not be able to keep.
- I’ve caught myself speaking over or in place of Black women. I’ve caught myself mansplaining to them in a way I don’t with white women I know. Perhaps this is a part of the eagerness I mentioned above.
- I’ve been fearful of being negatively criticized by Black women in a way I’m not with white women. Having grown up feeling judged by the other Black people in my life for being “too white”, I am oversensitive to that happening in my adulthood, but particularly when it comes to being judged by Black women, and particularly when the reason for that is due to my dating white women. It’s something I’m still working on (it’s gotten much better than in previous years).
I admittedly had to google “Sapphire” — I was unfamiliar with this term until today, but all too familiar with examples of this trope. Covering the many tropes that Black women have to navigate might be beyond the scope of today’s journal post, but this video explains it pretty well:
