Why I march, part 2

Martin Luther King Jr. wrote in his famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”:

“I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to ‘order’ that to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice…”

He continued:

“Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”

These words came to mind yesterday as I surveyed some of the reactions to Saturday’s powerful demonstration of unity in the face of the new regime in Washington and their actions to marginalize, disenfranchise and dehumanize people and their efforts to undercut the very structures that provide opportunity for those who need it most. I saw plenty of comments from narrow-minded ignoramuses who have nothing meaningful to add to the civic conversation. These I give all the attention they deserve – none.

But I also read posts from women (and men) who seemed to think the marches were solely pro-choice marchers. I also saw the response from a woman named Christy who expressed her lack of understanding for the marchers. More pertinently for me, I saw her response shared by women I know. Christy, and those who have favored her post, don’t think there’s a need for the marches because, after all, women have everything they are asking for: the right to vote, the right to work, freedom to direct their lives, etc. These women feel that we should be grateful for what we’ve got since so many women around the world have it so much worse. I want to address both of these threads.

As for the first issue, while there was a distinctly pro-choice aspect to the march, this was not singularly a march about a woman’s right to choose. If that’s all you think it was about, then you weren’t paying attention, or you were getting your information from a very narrow source. I feel inclined to share more of my thoughts on this topic, but in a separate post on another day.

My response to the second thread of argument is related to my first response, but goes deeper. To fully respond to this I need to introduce the word “intersectionality.” Intersectionality means, as simply as I can explain it, recognizing that one cannot simply address women’s rights without also addressing LGBTQ rights, immigrant rights, xenophobia, economic and environmental injustice and a number of other issues. As Hillary Clinton once powerfully said: “Women’s rights are human rights.” Nor can we assume that there is a universal women’s experience (most often synonymous with our own). Just because things may seem well in your world, doesn’t mean that women have nothing to fight for. In light of the moves already taken by the new administration even what little gains we have made threaten to be reversed.

Intersectional feminism recognizes that “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” to again quote the great Reverend King. Just because some women in America live the comfortable, fulfilled lives they want, doesn’t mean that injustice against women has been eliminated in our society. Much less have we eliminated injustice against other groups in our society. When a woman states that the march is unnecessary because women have secured their place, she is failing to recognize or acknowledge the real issues still facing women, especially women of color. She excludes the enormous obstacles and even hatred face by immigrants, non-White racial and ethnic groups, Native Americans, LGBTQ persons and basically just about anyone who doesn’t enjoy the privileges of being white, heterosexual, gender normative and wealthy.

In marching together Saturday we declared that injustice against transgender people is injustice against all of society. We declared that allowing corporations to trample the rights of Native Americans and place our environment in danger in their pursuit of corporate gain is an injustice against all of us. We declared that defining some people as “illegal” violates not only their rights and their humanity, but diminishes our own. Injustice doesn’t have to affect me directly for it to matter to me.

As for the argument that we shouldn’t complain because we’ve got it so much better than women in other parts of the world, well, there’s a lot of blindness to reality in that statement. There’s also a false assumption that intersectional feminists don’t care about those other women. Focusing on the injustices in our own country, at the local, state and national level, does not preclude standing against injustice in other places. We saw this powerfully demonstrated by the women around the world who marched in solidarity with us. This is about so much more than your own personal comfort. It’s time to get out of your privileged little bubble.

Which brings me back to Dr. King’s words. I wonder at moments like this whether our biggest obstacle isn’t the bigoted, misogynistic, racist man in the White House, and all those whose views echo his. Our biggest obstacle may be the 53% of white women who voted for that man even knowing these things about him, the ones objecting to our march because they don’t see what the problem is. They don’t see themselves as racist, or xenophobic, or homophobic (or maybe they do), and perhaps they aren’t. But they can’t see far enough beyond their own bubble to recognize that the issues we stand for and against are real. Injustice still exists here, in our own country. In our states. In our cities and neighborhoods. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. Don’t think you will remain unaffected by it just because you don’t think you need to march. Be glad we march for you anyway.