Why Don't I Speak Up?

I realized a couple of things during a recent visit to Goethe-Institut on a class trip (for a Feminist Philosophy course) and while reading Leslie Kern’s Feminist City (a book the class was encouraged to read before the visit). I’ve come to deeply think about the barriers that have prevented me from protesting more actively. I’ve also come to think that while I’m not afraid of attending organized protests, I have not been protesting in other ways that might be just as important.

I notice several barriers that have stopped me from participating in protests. The first that I’ll mention is my lack of community. I moved to downtown Toronto in 2019 and less than a year later the city went into lockdown due to the COVID -19 pandemic. I hadn’t met a lot of people who identified as feminist and the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement wasn’t yet a thing I was aware of. I didn't, and still don’t, know who organizes protests like the BLM march that happened in the summer of 2020 in Toronto. I only heard about that march via Instagram from a popular entertainment account called 6Buzz TV. I remember my roommate and I wanting to go out and take part in the protest but not knowing if it was legitimate or not. We didn’t find the march but we did find a gathering at Nathan Phillips Square and joined in there. After hearing my classmates during the visit to Goethe mention that not having a community presents as a barrier for them, I realized that I had this issue too. I realize that I’m not taking part in activism nearly as much as I could be because I’m not aware of or a part of any organization that organizes protests that fight for my interests. This makes me also think about those who are not a part of any academic space.

Community can also come from being a part of an academic space such as a University. I don’t have friends or close family who’ve completed university already. Therefore, before moving to Toronto, I wasn’t surrounded by people who were having in-depth conversations about activism. Even now, the recent Feminist Philosophy course has been the only place that I’ve been able to have educated (for lack of better terms) conversations about sexism, not like the occasional rant to my partner or sisters. Without my university experience, I wouldn’t have been so exposed to a lot of feminist ideas, nor would I have learned the actual history and evolution of the Feminist movement which have taken place over several centuries. I didn’t even know about the Goethe-Institut prior to that Feminist Philosophy course. The Goethe Institute is a not-for-profit cultural organization. According to the Goethe Institute’s website, they “promote cultural exchange, education and societal discourse in an international context”. Anyway, I had some fears that also prevented me from protesting more.

After my Goethe visit, I have come to think that protesting might also take place in my day-to-day life, not just as a part of organized events. Perhaps if I had spoken up to that man on the soccer pitch who made sexist remarks to me and wrongly underestimated my skills (or the male Home Depot employee that refused to talk to me directly and instead answered my questions to my partner, or reported my last manager for sexual harassment, or the man in my last group project who insisted on talking over me, etc.), I could have made some mark or inspired someone else to speak up too. I already knew that I have a fear of fulfilling stereotypes about Black people, but after conversations I had at Goethe, I can admit that that fear has been influencing my lack of action. I feel that if I protest in situations like those, I'll get judged before what I’m saying is heard. On the soccer pitch, I don't have to say anything. I just have to play and watch men altogether lose their tempers because they were not able to beat me. While that’s a source of satisfaction for me, there is admittedly no deep satisfaction in being the bigger person and walking away from other sexist or racist encounters. It doesn’t help that these things happen quite often.

Honestly, I experience so much sexist or racist microaggression that I simply don’t have the energy to acknowledge it all. It doesn’t feel normal to me either. I notice every time and it's aggravating. I notice that I am not completely free. I notice that women are not completely free. Especially Black women, whose intersecting identities present unparalleled levels of oppression that are unique to them. Laura Bates showed in her book, Everyday Sexism, that “tiny pinpricks” are just as effective at oppressing women as more overt actions. My parents and partner unintentionally say outlandish sexist or racist things sometimes too. Like my old-fashioned parents teaching me that I can keep a man if I learned to wash, cook and clean. We all know that’s a lie! Or like my partner assuming I need his help assembling IKEA furniture. I let him do it though because God forbids my “emasculating” him. face palm These things happen so often that I sometimes question my own experiences. Surely so many people weren't blatantly racist and sexist. What if it was me?! Let me share an encounter which perplexed me for days, mostly due to the perpetrator's share gall. I went to Shoppers Drug Mart recently to fill a prescription and the pharmacist clearly did not want to serve me when it was my turn. She (the Asian pharmacist) tried to serve the White woman behind me instead and the woman told her I was next. I hadn’t said anything yet. She (the pharmacist) walked away, came back again and stopped and looked me up and down, tapped her fingers on the counter, sighed loudly and then said “okay, come”. The woman behind me and I looked at each other in awe, but didn't say anything. She (the pharmacist) gave very dry responses, didn’t ask if I knew how to use my drugs (like she’s supposed to) and took my payment and never once looked me in the face. I’d never met her before. I walked away being mad at myself for being so polite to her anyway, for not asking for a manager, something. I knew I would be labeled "the angry black woman” who’s playing the “race card”. I vented about it to my partner for a while, trying to understand the real motive behind the pharmacist’s behavior. We couldn’t come up with anything else. Perhaps my not being willing to either engage in idiocy or consistently speak up has been problematic. Feminist City writes that, “nothing that we’ll gain in the future will be given without a fight,” and that “living in a democracy means actively exercising your rights”. My experience at Goethe and with Feminist City have renewed my sense of responsibility to myself and others around me.

As mentioned, maybe if I spoke up more I could inspire others to do the same, or influence others to keep their own prejudices in check. Jutta, the facilitator from Goethe, talked about what she might’ve been teaching her daughter while trying to shield her from potentially violent circumstances. Telling her daughter to look away while she aggressively reprimanded a sexist man. It’s inspired me to think about how I might relate to my own children one day or other younger black girls that I might mentor. I’m feeling a little bit more bold about exercising my rights and demanding equality, even if it makes me seem like another “angry black woman”.