Sharing a vision

I doubt whether anyone who read my last post missed the point that it was partly inspired by meditating on what some people have called The Great Cultural Appropriation Debate of Doom 2009.

I came rather late to an awareness of that debate. Someone or other directed me to deepad's post I Didn’t Dream of Dragons, back in January, and I thought it was a very good post. But the fact that there was an intense and sometimes acrimonious debate continuing across LiveJournal and parts of the blogosphere was something I didn't find out about until the first week in March.

rydra_wong's 'linkspam' posts got me up to speed (also inspired me to fish down Babel-17 off the shelf one evening and reread it, which was enjoyable). I have found some interesting, thought-provoking posts through the links she has collected: for example, the debate on cultural appropriation that was conducted on The Angry Black Woman site in January, and asim's eloquent, perceptive and immensely challenging post The R-Word, which appeared a couple of weeks ago.

I didn't expect to post anything directly personal in relation to the debate, because that is not what I use my LiveJournal for, on the whole.

Last Thursday morning I took a look at rydra_wong's 'linkspam' post, and checked out the latest contributions.

One of the new posts that day was entitled Updated Post: Author Shit List. The poster, bridgetmkennitt, has made a list of the writers she proposes to boycott because she doesn't want 'to give [her] hard earned cash to racist or sexist authors'. Fair enough; how she spends her money is her prerogative entirely. I wouldn't dream of taking issue with her over it.

Most of the authors on her list are people whose books I have never read; but one name made me blink: 'Robin McKinley'.

Full and fair disclosure here: Robin is a friend of mine. It's a couple of years since we last met; we live in different parts of the country; but I am fond of her and I respect her.

Further clarification: I have not discussed this post of mine with Robin. I have not discussed the original post with Robin. I do not know if Robin is at all aware of bridgetmkennitt's post, or the post by unusualmusic to which she links. That post was made in January. It features a quotation from an entry in Robin's blog, made on 21 January and headed Inauguration Day.

When I saw that quotation, I winced. I remembered reading it in January, and thinking, oh dear, Robin, you have left yourself open to misunderstandings there.

But first, the context. Robin's post was written immediately after President Obama's inauguration ceremony in a mood of excitement. She feels proud to be an American, after eight years of feeling somewhat estranged from her country. She is impressed by Obama's inaugural speech. She is delighted by the benediction delivered by the veteran civil rights activist Joseph Lowery.

In the middle of her post she says the words that angered and disappointed unusualmusic: 'And okay, he’s officially African-American§ but he still looks like a white guy with a tan to me.§§'

I am not going to try and defend this remark, or explain what I think she was trying to say.

However, I am going to draw attention to a post she made ten days later, on 31 January. This is a passage from it:

'What I want [from an Obama presidency] is what I personally would see as the greatest miracle of all: that he can, on account of both who and what he is, a man of mixed race and heritage, pull us all together a bit more: Americans and British, Iraqis and Afghans, Israelis and Palestinians, Indians and Pakistanis, North and South Koreans, Patagonians and New Guineans, Tuvaluns and Liechtensteiners. Because we’re all people first, and when the ozone, the polar ice, and the rainforests go, we’ll all go together.

This is what worries me about the focus on ‘the first African-American president’: it’s not that he’s not half black, of course he is, it’s that he’s also half white–or half something other than black, if you prefer. He’s BOTH. He is MORE THAN ONE THING. He belongs to more than one tribe. And you, me, Obama, the world, we can all be BOTH. We can all be more than one thing, belong to more than one tribe. In fact we should.'

And further on:

'An awful lot of what goes wrong among human beings is that we think in terms of us and them. We are apparently hardwired to do this: and we badly need to short this system out permanently. When all people of colour–or almost anyone who isn’t a WASP††–claim Obama as their own I sooo don’t want it to become another us and them situation–even if everyone-who-isn’t-a-WASP has been waiting a very, very long time for this moment and can hardly be faulted for wanting to revel in it. And I understand us and them, although mine tends to run along gender lines: did I want Hillary to be president partly just because she was a woman? ††† You bet I did. I’m frelling sick to frelling death of the gender wars: of the particular imbalances and abuses of that Us and Them. But I also know that the only way forward for men and women, just as for black, white, brown, yellow, red, chartreuse and plaid, is together. And, you know, acknowledging who we all are: different but the same.'

I have to say, as a Briton, that this strikes me as a very US American vision: up to and including the implicit assumption that the US President is the automatic leader of the whole world. But that is a side issue here.

Perhaps as a matter of personal temperament, perhaps as a matter of culture, the grand dream of the universal fellowship of human souls advancing side by side towards the future strikes me as splendid, uplifting – and remote.

I am a lesbian. At various points in my life I have been politically and culturally active in the lesbian and gay movement. I know that to some of my fellow humans, I am an unperson. There are people out there who will do me harm if they can.

And then there are the people who will stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me. The people who will watch my back, while I watch theirs. I don't always agree with all of them. Some of them can be frankly irritating at times. Out of ignorance, or some kind of inadvertence, they say things that I find annoying, even offensive. I may be moved to remonstrate with them. But I don't confuse them with the enemy.

I recognise them because, however imperfectly, we share a vision: of peace, equality and social justice.

I acknowledge that these are the people to whom I owe my survival, and my loyalty.


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