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(Sturctural) Racism and Moral Voices
International Blog Against Racism Week is coming to a close. I like to think that every week is International Blog Against Sexism week in my journal, but race doesn't get mentioned all that often. I can't post with any particularly appropriate icons, for all the eight people who appear in my six icons are all white. While I think we are agreed that's deeply problematic, it is not as if going and getting an icon of a character I don't really like would solve anything. The issue is deeper, systemic, and blaming the individual never solves anything. (Not that I should be absolved of responsibility, either.) Changing my icons won't change anything; changing whatever made me not as interested in the non-white characters will, alongside an honest attempt to understand and appreciate the characters I might not "get."
(Honestly, this is how I see affirmative action most of the time. I don't oppose it anymore, because I think the restrictions on it by the Supreme Court are extremely fair, but I don't see it working particularly well, either.)
The closest character to a character of color whom I really loved is Kennedy, and she (and/or Iyari?) passed for white to me for the entire time I watched the show. I even sort of remember the "Really? Hmm" moment when I learned that Iyari Limon was Latina--and of course there are photo shoots of her that I've seen since which really accentuate it.(And there was a really great post about that and how problematic it is on my flist a couple days ago. Let me finish my thought and I'll hunt down the link.) Class issues intersect here--it was clearly established that Kennedy was at least upper-middle class, with a vacation house on Long Island, and there seems to be a weird (or not-so-weird, really, when one thinks about it) way that "upward" mobility requires a much greater enculturation in white culture (i.e., patriarchal hegemony) so that we would expect an upper-class Latina to pass for white better than a lower-class one.
Part of it is to whom I'm attracted; with the exception of the Mesektet/Dark Champions icon, all of my icons contain at least one character to whom I'm attracted. Why do I tend not to be attracted to people who are non-white (and when I do find such a person attractive, it is typically on "white" standards of beauty)? Well, "socialization" is the easy and obvious answer there, but I think the damage has been pretty much done by this point. Any suggestions as to how I can save future generations from this? (Of course, any evaluation of a person based on appearance is problematic from a feminist viewpoint, but it is not a practice from which we can very easily escape.)
Okay, so I wanted to use this time to revisit the question of whether texts can speak with moral voices, because that's part of what is at stake when we look at racism/sexism/classism in texts. There is nothing outside the text, so by definition every act of racism/sexism/classism is carried out via texts. And structural raceism/sexism/classism is built into the very language in which we create the texts, which presents those constructing the text with an interesting dilemma--we must work within the language so as to be communicative, but outside it so as to be liberatory. Twas brilig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
Sunnydale is a white, upper-middle-class community. Now there's some worldbuilding issues here, admittedly. We know that Sunnydale has people moving in and out a lot, and the property values are low, and I'm not an economics major so I don't know what it would take to keep up the upper-middle-class lifestyle that the residents of Sunnydale have. And it's been argued that geographically, there's no way a Californian suburb with that level of moving in and out could keep the level of racial homogeneity that it does. I don't know enough about California to speak to that issue. What I do know that here on the East Coast, there are plenty of towns just like Sunnydale.
To say that because Sunnydale is a white community that there is something oppressive with Buffy is ludicrous (and I'm not accusing anyone of making such an argument, just working through a train of thought.) Otherwise, only shows taking place in the Feminist Utopia would be proper, and I'm not sure that such a show would at all be entertaining. Instead, we must look at what function Sunnydale's whiteness performs. Insofar as Buffy is a subversive attack on the complacency of white middle class Americans, Sunnydale's whiteness is a suitably progressive source of satire. We know that the show called attention to the lack of diversity at least once, when Mr. Trick first entered Sunnydale.
If you're not convinced by this reading of Buffy I could go on, drawing on more details and whatnot. But as a result of various meta discussions, I'm not sure whether there is any correct reading. Buffy is a floating signifier, and as a result it says nothing and everything about race. A racist moving picture from the late 19th century might be the most powerful message against racism in the contemporary moment: it self-satirizes.
So what is a radical feminist to do, other than throw their hands up in despair? Nothing is forbidden, everything is permitted? Well, this is where the switch from theory to praxis comes in. (Although the way we conceptualize praxis--which is, of course, another type of text--is ultimately dependent on theory.) In this world, are people of color empowered or disempowered by the Buffy text? This is an empirical question that cannot be answered by watching Buffy alone, and as such, I have no idea what the answer is. And while I think censorship is always an evil, and that people have a responsibility to their Muses, there is no responsibility to go out of our way to disseminate damaging (i.e. damaging in the specific here/now of a sociohistorical location) texts.
An it harm none, do what thou will.
(To recognize "harm" as such, of course, we need a theoretical apparatus already in place--in this case, my radical feminist convictions.)
This is why, as I've said before in this journal, there is no such thing as a feminist text, and the flipside of the argument is that there is no such thing as a racist text: because texts don't speak with a moral voice. They don't speak with any voice at all; they need to be interpreted.
(Honestly, this is how I see affirmative action most of the time. I don't oppose it anymore, because I think the restrictions on it by the Supreme Court are extremely fair, but I don't see it working particularly well, either.)
The closest character to a character of color whom I really loved is Kennedy, and she (and/or Iyari?) passed for white to me for the entire time I watched the show. I even sort of remember the "Really? Hmm" moment when I learned that Iyari Limon was Latina--and of course there are photo shoots of her that I've seen since which really accentuate it.(And there was a really great post about that and how problematic it is on my flist a couple days ago. Let me finish my thought and I'll hunt down the link.) Class issues intersect here--it was clearly established that Kennedy was at least upper-middle class, with a vacation house on Long Island, and there seems to be a weird (or not-so-weird, really, when one thinks about it) way that "upward" mobility requires a much greater enculturation in white culture (i.e., patriarchal hegemony) so that we would expect an upper-class Latina to pass for white better than a lower-class one.
Part of it is to whom I'm attracted; with the exception of the Mesektet/Dark Champions icon, all of my icons contain at least one character to whom I'm attracted. Why do I tend not to be attracted to people who are non-white (and when I do find such a person attractive, it is typically on "white" standards of beauty)? Well, "socialization" is the easy and obvious answer there, but I think the damage has been pretty much done by this point. Any suggestions as to how I can save future generations from this? (Of course, any evaluation of a person based on appearance is problematic from a feminist viewpoint, but it is not a practice from which we can very easily escape.)
Okay, so I wanted to use this time to revisit the question of whether texts can speak with moral voices, because that's part of what is at stake when we look at racism/sexism/classism in texts. There is nothing outside the text, so by definition every act of racism/sexism/classism is carried out via texts. And structural raceism/sexism/classism is built into the very language in which we create the texts, which presents those constructing the text with an interesting dilemma--we must work within the language so as to be communicative, but outside it so as to be liberatory. Twas brilig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
Sunnydale is a white, upper-middle-class community. Now there's some worldbuilding issues here, admittedly. We know that Sunnydale has people moving in and out a lot, and the property values are low, and I'm not an economics major so I don't know what it would take to keep up the upper-middle-class lifestyle that the residents of Sunnydale have. And it's been argued that geographically, there's no way a Californian suburb with that level of moving in and out could keep the level of racial homogeneity that it does. I don't know enough about California to speak to that issue. What I do know that here on the East Coast, there are plenty of towns just like Sunnydale.
To say that because Sunnydale is a white community that there is something oppressive with Buffy is ludicrous (and I'm not accusing anyone of making such an argument, just working through a train of thought.) Otherwise, only shows taking place in the Feminist Utopia would be proper, and I'm not sure that such a show would at all be entertaining. Instead, we must look at what function Sunnydale's whiteness performs. Insofar as Buffy is a subversive attack on the complacency of white middle class Americans, Sunnydale's whiteness is a suitably progressive source of satire. We know that the show called attention to the lack of diversity at least once, when Mr. Trick first entered Sunnydale.
If you're not convinced by this reading of Buffy I could go on, drawing on more details and whatnot. But as a result of various meta discussions, I'm not sure whether there is any correct reading. Buffy is a floating signifier, and as a result it says nothing and everything about race. A racist moving picture from the late 19th century might be the most powerful message against racism in the contemporary moment: it self-satirizes.
So what is a radical feminist to do, other than throw their hands up in despair? Nothing is forbidden, everything is permitted? Well, this is where the switch from theory to praxis comes in. (Although the way we conceptualize praxis--which is, of course, another type of text--is ultimately dependent on theory.) In this world, are people of color empowered or disempowered by the Buffy text? This is an empirical question that cannot be answered by watching Buffy alone, and as such, I have no idea what the answer is. And while I think censorship is always an evil, and that people have a responsibility to their Muses, there is no responsibility to go out of our way to disseminate damaging (i.e. damaging in the specific here/now of a sociohistorical location) texts.
An it harm none, do what thou will.
(To recognize "harm" as such, of course, we need a theoretical apparatus already in place--in this case, my radical feminist convictions.)
This is why, as I've said before in this journal, there is no such thing as a feminist text, and the flipside of the argument is that there is no such thing as a racist text: because texts don't speak with a moral voice. They don't speak with any voice at all; they need to be interpreted.
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