Take a Knee to Take a Stand

A few months ago I went to a town hall meeting. It was hosted by the Republican congressman from the district next to mine (the one from my district is even worse). It was a packed house, with attendance seeming to fall close to even along party lines. Before the meeting began, the crowd was asked to stand and face the flag to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyone stood and turned towards the front-left corner of the large room where the flag was erected and chanted in unison.

I did not participate. As everyone else stood and recited, I remained in my seat and silent. From what I could tell, I was the only person in attendance to do so. I was honestly afraid I was going to catch a lot of hate for it, but my silent protest seemed to go largely unnoticed. Of course, I’m just some woman from Podunk, North Carolina. I’m not on any big stage or under any bright spotlight to where all eyes are upon me. The football players in the NFL however, are.

A year or so ago, San Francisco quarterback Colin Kapernick began a silent protest where, during the pre-game National Anthem, he knelt instead of standing (previously he sat). There was a public outcry as people demanded he stand for the Anthem, saying his actions disrespected America and the military. The turmoil ultimately concluded in his football career ending long before it should have. However, this year dozens of NFL players (as well as players in other sports) have followed his example. They kneel, they lock arms, sometimes they just stay in the locker room. Their protest has nothing to do with the armed forces. No, it was to draw attention to the epidemic of police brutality against African American men in America. Across the country, black men (and some women) are being gunned down during stops for minor infractions or even when they’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. These poor souls have lost their lives due to police racism. To make matters worse, the deceased often get no justice as the officers committing the crimes aren’t even charged. It’s disgusting, it’s unjust, and it absolutely needs to stop.

I join these people in solidarity. Their cause is just and their method is sound. I personally have not stood for the Anthem or the Pledge in at least a couple of years now.  What they’re speaking out about, what they’re drawing attention to, desperately needs to be a part of the cultural conversation right now. Of course, those who are decrying the action keep changing the subject. “How dare you disrespect the troops!” they yell, as if that had anything to do with their protest. “Find a more appropriate way to protest!” they whine, as if they’d be satisfied with any outcome other than black men going back to quietly doing what they’re told. And when they see me participating, it turns to, “why are you kneeling; you’re white!”.

First and foremost, I kneel because I agree with the message. The cause of equal justice for black Americans would be won by now if white people would lend their voices. For as much as I talk about transgender struggles on this blog (we’re getting to that, by the way), I’ll be the first to tell you that I unfairly enjoy an exorbitant amount of white privilege. I don’t experience fear when interacting with the police. I’ve never had my job application passed by because I had a “black sounding” name. I’ve never been labeled a thug. I’ve never worried that the legal system would impose on my a ludicrous penalty for a small infraction.  I’ve never had someone be afraid to sit near me or to walk past me on the street. That’s not my world, and it’s not fair that it’s theirs. Because of that, I kneel during the National Anthem.

But that’s not the only reason…

Before I keep going, I want to make one thing abundantly clear: when talking about National Anthem protests, the conversation needs to first and foremost be about the mistreatment of African Americans in our society, if it’s about anything else at all. That is the focus. It is where the spotlight must shine. I’m close to 800 words in now before even mentioning anything other than that and that’s very much on purpose. Black lives matter, and I’ll shout it anywhere, anytime. But I kneel for another reason, too. For as much as I enjoy white privilege, it can’t be denied that the United States has been really shitty when it comes to the treatment of transgender people and it’s only gotten worse in the years since marriage equality was finally legalized (that’s a tease for a future post).

In just the last year, the Justice Department has removed bathroom protections for transgender students. In just the last month or two, President Fuhrer Trump has tried to ban transgender people from serving in the military and Nikki Haley voted in the United Nations not to ban countries from executing gay people. In just the last week, Jeff Sessions announced that Title VII would no longer protect transgender people from workplace discrimination. We’ve fought bathroom bill after goddamn bathroom bill in states all over the country. America is trying very hard to make transgender people go away, and you wonder why I won’t respect a song honoring America?

You really think I’m going to be thankful for my freedom under these circumstances? You really expect me to stand up for a nation that keeps trying to kick me down? Hell no! I will not show this flag, this song, and certainly not this country that kind of respect; it hasn’t earned it. Let’s face a cold, hard truth: America is an embarrassment. I don’t even fly the American Flag outside of my house anymore. The last time I took it down because there was a storm coming I couldn’t stomach the thought of putting it back up. When I look at the Stars and Stripes, all I think about is the injustice, the intolerance, the bigotry, and the ignorance-worshiping nationalism it truly represents. When I see “Old Glory”, I think about all the times I’ve had to call my elected officials and beg them not to either kick me out of the bathroom or take away my healthcare. When I hear the National Anthem, I here a chorus of voices calling me a “freak”, a “monster”, a “deviant”, a “sinner”, and a “pervert”. I feel no pride in America, and I won’t pretend to.

Now, if you’re getting all red in the face while reading this and thinking ‘well just move if you hate America so much!’, this next part’s for you. I’m not going to do that. See, for as much as I consider America as a whole a dark spot on the world these days, there are plenty of Americans I’m rather fond of. There are wonderful people in my community, people who represent love, compassion, understanding, tolerance, and unity. I’m proud of my life and the things I’ve accomplished. I’m proud of my family. These are all things I’ve earned, not because of the promise of America, but in spite of what this nation has tried to keep me from. I will fight to see this nation transformed into what it has the potential to be. I will work tirelessly to ensure the promise of safety and prosperity is fulfilled for everyone. When we achieve that kind of America, then I will stand up with my hand over my heart and sing, “Oh say can you see…”

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Identity, Appropriation, and Subtextual Racism

Do you know who this woman is? Her name is Rachel Dolezel. Well, at least it was. Apparently it’s now been changed to Nkechi Amare Diallo. From 2014 to June of 2015 she was the NAACP president in Spokane, Washington. She resigned after it was confirmed that, though she claimed to be African American, she was in fact Caucasian; born to white parents with no African ancestry to speak of. Her hair and visible skin color were not natural. When called out on it, Diallo claimed that she was born white but identified as black.

This mess was all gaining attention around the same time Caitlyn Jenner (am I the only one who hears ominous thunder every time her name is mentioned?) came out publicly. Naturally, this started a national conversation that anti-trans groups just loved to jump on as “proof” that transgender people were bogus: why can you identify as a gender but not as a race?

I mentioned last time that I left this particular argument out because there was a lot more to unpack with it. The short answer is, no, you can’t identify as a race. But explaining why isn’t as simple as a single sentence pointing out its utter idiocy. This question not only goes much deeper than the others, but digging into it unearths a lot of other related cultural problems.

Let’s start with the basics. You can’t identify as your race because race isn’t tied to identity. Race is something you inherit. Unlike your sex, which is a genetic toss-up regardless of who your parents are, your race will be past down to you. Two black parents will never make a white baby. Two white parents will never make an Asian baby. You get the idea. What’s more, race has significant ties to heritage that gender (on its own) does not. Gender can be a part of your inherited cultural history. Young Jewish men having a Bar-mitzvah is a prime example. But there really aren’t any gender-only traditions that have always existed across all cultures.

Now, this isn’t to say you can’t be interested in another race’s culture. If you’re a white person wanting to take an African American studies class, do it! I personally think more of that is needed in this increasingly polarized and divided world we live in. It’s fine to learn more about others. That’s what being multicultural is all about. But it’s another thing entirely to take the history and ancestry of others and claim them as your own. They simply aren’t yours. Besides, your history doesn’t dictate how you have to live your life (at least it shouldn’t), so what reason is there to claim you came from a different linage?

That’s the problem with this situation that you might have heard before. Most of the think-pieces I read about this story when it was at the height of the public consciousness either touched on this point or had it as the focus. There’s another aspect of this though that I’ve not really heard anyone else mention before. It’s one that not only debunks the notion of racial identity, but exposes that claiming such is a racist act in itself.

When I tell my son that it’s time for bed, I don’t have to mention all the things that process involves. I don’t have to go over the list of brushing teeth, putting on pajamas, and getting into bed to read a book before lights out. All of those things are understood in the statement “time for bed”. There are many instances in our everyday lives where the things we say convey broader meaning beyond the words at face value. When I tell someone that I identify as a woman, there’s an implied message within that I want the person to treat me as they would treat another woman. I want to be referred to with female pronouns. I want to be allowed into women-only spaces. What I convey to that person is supposed to dictate either a change in or confirmation of the way they interact with me.

See, gender is really the only aspect of people where we are mostly okay with some degree of segregation. We address people differently according to their gender. We use specific pronouns, we enforce different dress codes (I know what you’re thinking but not tackling that one this time), we designate separate spaces like bathrooms and changing rooms. Ideally, it’s the only example of separate but equal that we can all agree on (in a perfect world, I know). 

So then, if Diallo wants to tell me she identifies as black, does that imply she wants me to treat her as though she were black? And if so, what would that even mean? Remember, there’s no reason to identify as something unless that identity is tied to a system where the world would interact with you based upon it or it somehow makes you different. Last time I checked, treating black people or any race differently than others is racism. What exactly does she want me to do with that information? Is she wanting different treatment?

I realize this all seems like I’m just railing on a two-year-old news story, but it was just too good a case study to make my point with. All of the examples in my last post were just idiotic things people said as a deflection from acknowledging transgender people. In this case, there’s actually a semi-famous account of someone actually claiming it. Identifying as a race might not be as nakedly ridiculous as identifying as a meatball sub or whatever the next internet troll argument is, but it’s still wrong. Claiming to identify as a race is just an excuse to appropriate aspects of their culture because you think they look cool. Appropriating another’s culture isn’t a sign of respect: it’s taking something you didn’t inherit. As for Diallo, if she wants to work with the NAACP (and I think that’s a good thing), then she should use something she has that’s more powerful than a false identity: her white privilege.

Next time, something currently topical…I promise.