Intersectional Activism: Because Bigots Hate Everyone Unequally
Ask them to define ‘Woke’ and see how many things they include.
Have you ever heard the term ‘intersectionality’?
It was coined back in 1989 by a civil rights activist named Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw. She’s currently a professor of law at UCLA and the Columbia School of Law.
The basic idea of intersectionality is that every individual person has an identity made up of many different layers. To use myself as an example, I can list many traits that describe who I am, and which have an impact on how I live my life.
I’m a woman, I’m white, I’m cisgender, I’m autistic, I’m asexual, and I have chronic health conditions. I’m Canadian, I’m college-educated in a trade, and I run my own businesses. I’m an artist and a writer, and I’m passionate about my beliefs—both religious and political.
I’m also a Millennial. Go ahead and make your jokes now.
There are a lot of component parts that make up ‘Sam.’ Each of those component parts has a role in shaping my experiences and worldview.
No human being on this planet can be summed up as one thing. We all have differences, we’re all unique, and we’re all complicated and multifaceted critters.
All of these different facets of who we are can directly alter how we are perceived by the world, and how other people treat us. Stereotypes and biases play into every interaction we have, for better or worse.
For example, a white woman with a disability might have better luck being taken seriously than an Indigenous woman with the same illness.
Intersectionality theory suggests, quite simply, that issues of oppression and discrimination can compound—just like interest in a savings account.
Just, you know. In a bad way.
Discrimination and prejudice aren’t based on logic.
Rejection of the ‘Other’ is a very well-known trait of the human mind, and it is largely couched in fear and disgust. The ‘Other’ is anybody who doesn’t fit within the default settings of the society you live in. The ‘default’ setting is your in-group.
The in-group sets the standard for what is considered ‘normal’ where you live. Here in North America, that’s white, straight, cisgender and able-bodied.
People who fall outside of that in-group ideal—which is the majority of the human species, by the way—are the out-group. The Other.
The only reason those differences matter at all is because of how we, as a society, react to them. We divide ourselves along arbitrary lines, segregating based on differences that ought to be unimportant.
No matter how those reactions are explained away or justified, it all comes down to the same basic idea. The in-group gets to define the Other, and anything that is considered ‘abnormal’ is considered to be a threat.
The more different you are, the worse that threat becomes. For most people, that creates a sort of very mild unconscious bias. We’ve all got those, whether we want to admit it or not.
For others, it triggers a much more extreme reaction.
Generally speaking, if you talk to a white supremacist, racism is not the only kind of rhetoric you’re going to hear. You’re going to hear vitriol aimed at women, you’re going to hear slurs aimed at the LGBTQ+ community, you’re going to hear anti-semitism and insults based on ability level.
That’s because the core idea of white supremacy is not based solely on race, regardless of what we call it. The idea is that the dominant culture is the ‘normal’ one. If you’re not normal, you’re the enemy.
White supremacists hate gay white people just like they hate people of colour.
Transphobia has a huge overlap with ableism, and Nazis show up to support anti-trans rallies as well. They have a lot in common.
Hatred and prejudice are never restricted to one single defining characteristic of a person.
Understanding this fact is important. And it’s why intersectionality in activism is absolutely vital if we want to make a real difference in the world.
If you asked me to name one single issue that, when solved, would fix all of my problems…I couldn’t give you one. I’d wager that most of us are in the same boat.
Any attack on women’s rights is harmful to me. Anything that targets neurodivergent and disabled people is dangerous to me. Anything that goes after the LGBTQ+ community is a threat to my well-being.
It’s hard to focus on one single issue when they all matter to me.
And even activists who try to focus on one social or political problem will quickly find out that no issues exist in a vacuum. Every form of activism is intertwined.
We know that people living in poverty are more at risk in climate-related disasters. We know that statistically, people of colour are disproportionately more likely to be trapped in poverty. We know that socioeconomic status can affect everything from access to education to healthcare.
So, activists who work on climate change, poverty and healthcare access probably see a lot of overlap on the job.
And this is true across the board! LGBTQ+ activists and feminists are natural allies in fighting for reproductive rights and bodily autonomy.
Many LGBTQ+ youth end up homeless, either kicked out or fleeing mistreatment at home. They often need access to domestic violence shelters.
Charities that work to improve the lives of the homeless mesh very well with mental health and addiction advocates.
All of these disparate groups, with varied goals, wind up working with people who are marginalized in many different ways. You can’t effectively fight for them if you don’t have a grasp on the whole picture.
Having an intersectional view of activism helps us see the forest for the trees. It allows us to define those who are most vulnerable, and most likely to be at risk, and that helps us create targeted solutions.
But for some people, this probably sounds a little too ‘Woke’ for their liking.
The word ‘Woke’ is pretty evocative these days. It provokes a visceral, gut reaction in most people here in North America.
Whether it’s a favourable or negative reaction depends on which side of the political spectrum you stand on, and whether you know the real history of the word.
Typically, you hear it from the Conservative side of the aisle. It’s nearly always a complaint.
Accusations of ‘Wokeness’ can be pretty broad. A female politician is elected? Woke. Queer characters in a show? Woke. Movie written and performed by Asian people wins an award? Woke, woke, woke!
If the same people are using the same negative word to pick at any form of social progress or criticism of the status quo, it indicates that they’ve got a pretty narrow view of the world.
If you need further proof that bigotry is intersectional, I don’t know what to tell you.
The only antidote to this kind of fragility is to change the way that society reacts to diversity. And the only way to make any sort of headway with that is if we all work as a collective force.
Transgender and queer people might be the biggest targets in the news right now, but they haven’t been the first and they won’t be the last. Moral panics don’t stop until they run into a brick wall.
There’s a reason I end most of my articles with the same phrase: solidarity wins. It means exactly what it says on the tin.
Most of us have read the old famous poem titled First They Came.
In each line of the poem, the writer describes how the Nazis came for each group of people that they persecuted, one after another. And every time, he kept silent, because he didn’t belong to the group that was under attack.
In the end, when they came for him he was left standing alone.
We don’t want to be in the same position. My dearest hope is that a modern-day rewrite of this poem would be very short.
“First they came for the transgender people, and together, we made sure that they failed.”
Solidarity wins.