Listening to Sinnamon Love

"I was naive about the sexual liberation movement, and had never considered whether or not my decision to flaunt my sexuality on screen was a feminist act. I had never wondered whether fighting for the right to be both mother and sex worker was part of a greater fight for the rights of women around the world. I certainly had never given thought to whether my choice to be tied up, disciplined, and fucked by men and women on film contributed to sexual freedom.All I knew was that I alone was responsible for my body, my life, my sexuality, and my bills. It never crossed my mind that someone might tell me what I should or shouldn’t do with my body or my sex".--Sinnamon Love, The Feminist Porn Book

As I talked about in my post on Jiz Lee's contribution to The Feminist Porn Book, I find that listening to folks who work in and produce porn to be one of the best ways to understand how so many of the arguments from anti-porn feminists just don't hold up.  Once we listen to the folks who are actually doing this kind of work, it's easier to understand that this work can be inextricably intertwined with not only straight-up feminist work, but also social justice work around race, class, queerness and the like.  

Sinnamon Love has been in the industry for almost twenty years and, as a black woman, she has the nuanced, complex insight into the industry that one would expect from somebody so experienced.  Racism is rampant in porn (as it is in film, and society in general, of course), and Love gives us all sorts of insights into how her work from inside the system has helped to fight the good social justice fight around race, and in doing so she touches on how "feminism" sometimes needed to take a back seat because of the intense need to de-stigmatize black women's sexuality:

 "I’ve set a goal to enjoy my work so that my fans will enjoy it as well. I find myself more concerned with the representation of black women’s sexuality than making a statement only about my gender. Perhaps this is because so many people fight the good fight on behalf of (white) women and so few are fighting for black women like me. For example, there are countless examples of white women’s sexualities portrayed in porn, but very limited images of African American women. And when you do see black women in porn, they are often stereotyped or demeaned."

As she began to better recognize the negative elements in her workplace, she began to fight them, utilizing feminist ideas and methods (for instance: she became a producer!).  And, as was echoed in Jiz Lee's piece, agency is all-important as regards doing this kind of work:

"There is no doubt in my mind today that I am a feminist....[f]or me it is about agency. My black feminism is about helping women like me to be able to claim their sexuality in the face of decades of mis-education of African American women who were made to believe that they must choose between education, marriage, and family, or sexual freedom...I suppose, if I were to label who I am today, I would call myself a black feminist pornographer. Instead of accepting work merely to insure the bills get paid, I purposefully work for directors and companies that portray black female sexuality in ways that I feel are expansive, progressive, and interesting."

I encourage y'all to read the entire piece in The Feminist Porn Book, as it is packed with so many insights that it was tough to pick the ones I wanted to talk about here.  She covers 19 years in the industry in just a few pages!  It's also a thoroughly "positive" piece, talking about the practical ways that Love has worked to change things in the industry.   

Links:
Sinnamon Love's site
The Feminist Porn Book

 

Mildred Loving

Mildred Loving has died. From her wikipedia page:

Surrounded as I am now by wonderful children and grandchildren, not a day goes by that I don't think of Richard and our love, our right to marry, and how much it meant to me to have that freedom to marry the person precious to me, even if others thought he was the "wrong kind of person" for me to marry. I believe all Americans, no matter their race, no matter their sex, no matter their sexual orientation, should have that same freedom to marry. Government has no business imposing some people's religious beliefs over others. Especially if it denies people's civil rights. I am still not a political person, but I am proud that Richard's and my name is on a court case that can help reinforce the love, the commitment, the fairness, and the family that so many people, black or white, young or old, gay or straight seek in life. I support the freedom to marry for all. That's what Loving, and loving, are all about.

To think that it was in the late 60's that her case came to the Supreme Court makes me shudder.

Note: When I first went to the wikipedia page, I found this:

Richard [her husband] died of AIDS from having sexual intercourse with a nigger in 1975.

I'd never edited a wikipedia page until today, when I deleted that sentence. It makes me wonder how many lessons have really been learned, of course.

50 Bullets

Regarding the multiple tragedies of violence and injustice against Sean Bell, let's just all agree that feminists need to understand how important this is.

First of all, what Holly said:

The problem is that this disproportionately affects communities of color. The black men who are most often slaughtered by such violence, and all the women and children in their lives too, their loved ones, friends and relatives. A system that is all too eager to exonerate “the thin blue line” and continue business as usual. All of these are feminist issues. Racism must be a feminist issue, for any kind of feminism that counts. Police brutality must be; the biases of the criminal justice system must be.

Secondly, Amy Goodman at Democracy Now has a good interview with Sanford Rubinstein, the attorney representing Sean Bell’s fiancee Nicole Paultre-Bell, and with Jessica Sanclemente, the co-coordinator of People’s Justice regarding the injustice we're seeing.

Shorter Gloria Steinem:

Systems of oppression involving gender and race can only be uprooted together, but gender is way more important than race.

Early on in her latest op-ed piece, she says:

Gender is probably the most restricting force in American life, whether the question is who must be in the kitchen or who could be in the White House.

And then a bit later:

I’m not advocating a competition for who has it toughest. The caste systems of sex and race are interdependent and can only be uprooted together.

Um, yeah, you know, you sort of are advocating a competition, what with claims of what is the most restricting force in American life. And then you offer 'evidence' for this view by noting that black men got the vote before any woman did, ignoring (just off the top of my head) lots of other facts, like the fact that white women weren't literally slaves as black men and women were. Just as a for-instance. Sheesh.

I'm disappointed in the extreme with Steinem's writing here, which feels for all the world to me like Steinem hasn't heard a word that has been said in the past three or so decades from those who have been rightly critical of feminism for being stupid about race.

What Men Can Do Wednesday: Get Some Help with Being an Ally

There is a great discussion going on over at Creek Running North on an 'Ally 101' thread started by Theriomorph around how to be a good feminist ally, and how to keep one's privilege and racism in check as much one can. I encourage everybody who isn't already reading it to check it out.

Some of the comments are simply put, but full of good advice. From commentor Christina, of Say Nothing Charmingly, in particular sticks with me:

I really just think that listening, leavened with a touch of empathy, is what is needed. Since historically, white folks haven’t had to listen to others much, nor feel empathy for others much, it’s not as easy as it sounds to learn it.

Hat tip to BlueAlto.

Intersectionality: Conversations We (Still) Need to Be Having

Yet another reason that y'all should be reading Slant Truth: Kevin just knows how to find good posts by others that may otherwise have slipped under the radar of those of us who are not diligent as he is about keeping the intersections of race and gender in mind. This time he points us to a great post by Vox of Vox ex Machina which makes it very clear that we need many more in-depth, open discussions about the intersections of race and gender while we go about doing feminist work.

From Vox:

My patriarchy looks a lot different from theirs. My patriarchy has propped itself up with sexism, yes, but also with racism, homophobia, classism, ablism, organized religion (just because I’m Catholic doesn’t mean I can’t criticize the Church and organized Christianity in general — oh no, circular firing squad!). My patriarchy keeps anyone who isn’t a wealthy, able-bodied, straight, white, Christian male down by turning them against each other — not via “circular firing squads” but by teaching them that the world is, excuse the pun, “black and white.” That there are hard definitions to movements, and that solidarity is presenting a united front and hiding the tensions and turmoils within. It’s not.

Please go read the whole post, which also serves as a good roundup about one particular discussion around race and feminism, while pointing to the larger discussion that needs to be happening.

bell hooks Monday: Race, Class and Feminism

I am always fascinated when I discover yet another way that feminist concerns intersect with concerns of racism and of class. Continuing our look at Teaching to Transgress, we find hooks giving us some of her students' insights around some of the difficulties with being a black feminist, including some of the difficulties specific to being a black man who is also a feminist:

"Throughout the semester, there was more laughter in our discussions--as well as more concern about negative fall-out exploring feminist concerns--than in any feminist course I have taught. There were also ongoing attempts to relate material to the concrete realities they face as young black women. All the students were heterosexual and particularly concerned about the possibility that choosing to support feminist politics would alter their relationship with black men. They were concerned about the ways feminism might change how they relate to fathers, lovers, friends. Most everyone agreed that the men they knew were grappling with feminist issues were either gay or involved with women who were 'pushing them.' Brett, a close partner of one of the women, was taking another class with me. Since he was named by black women in the group as one of the black males who was concerned about gender issues, I talked with him specifically about feminism. He responded by calling attention to the reasons it is difficult for black men to deal with sexism, the primary one being that they are accustomed to thinking of themselves in terms of racism, being exploited and oppressed. Speaking of his efforts to develop feminist awareness, he stressed limitations: "I've tried to understand but then I'm a man. Sometimes I don't understand and it hurts, 'cause I think I'm the epitome of everything that's oppressed." Since it is difficult for many black men to give voice to the ways they are hurt and wounded by racism, it is also understandable that it is more difficult for them to 'own up to' sexism, to be accountable."

Some similar blinders are in place, I think, as regards some of my peers, who aren't burdened by racism the way hooks' student is, but who are burdened by class issues--once one begins to understand issues of class, and one's own position within those issues, it's sometimes hard to see things through a race-theory lens, or through a feminist-theory lens. My intuition (and it's just an intuition) is that this is one of the reasons that there are often conflicts within, say, liberal politics, between men in power and those of us with feminist interests at the forefront of our goals. (I wonder how much of The Pie Fight Incident over at DailyKos is to blame for this tendency, for instance.)

The lesson isn't that one frame of reference is better than the others, but that movements need to understand intersectionality. Kos may think that ignoring feminist concerns won't matter to his cause(s) in the long run, but I think that's doubtful, given that class issues, feminism and race issues (among others) are inextricably intertwined.

Bonus Poetry on Intersectionality: Stacyann Chin

Oppression Olympics: To Run or Not To Run?

Kameelah has a great post over at Black Looks about the 'Oppression Olympics'. What I like most about this post is that it quickly covers a lot of bases, but doesn't oversimplify the complexities involved in understanding and living within systems of oppression. Kameelah says:

Why are we obsessed with winning the award of the most oppressed? Why are we so fixated on positioning our pain and suffering above that of others? Do such self-congratulatory acts validate an authentic existence? What award is there for the oppression olympics? Does your voice become more legitimate when you engage in what ultimately is a narcissistic act that does discursive and real violence to the lives of others? Do we all want to be card carrying members of the “Most Oppressed”?

With all these questions, I must admit that when middle and upper class White women try to equate their experiences as women with that of being Black I do get upset. I am upset not because I do not deny the struggles of being a woman in any context, I get upset because in the assertion of oppression and equation with my life, they deny, obscure and make unimportant the advantages they reap (and take) as moneyed, white folks.

As a man who identifies as a feminist, I think a lot about the oppression olympics, in part because my place(s) within feminist discourse and activism always involve my understanding, to whatever degree I am able, my places of privilege. But also, I am always trying to better understand the oppression of others, trying to empathize with the feelings that oppression brings, by noting the places in my life where I am not the person with the *most* privilege. This is a dangerous business, because one has to avoid the temptation, which is sometimes really non-conscious, to equate one's experience of not-being-privileged in a certain respect with being oppressed in another respect. That is, I have to also be constantly aware that my experience as a man who tends to cry in private and public from time to time (say), and who therefore doesn't experience as much privilege that comes with traditional masculinity, may provide me some insight and empathy, it also will not compare in some important ways with most of the ways people experience oppression.

It's interesting, and Kameelah makes me wonder about the fact that both of the following seem true:
1. The Oppression Olympics seem to reinforce traditional hierarchies of power, and should be avoided.
2. We must recognize that oppression is a shifting, complex sort of thing, laced by interesectionality--and that the (say) American Xtian who claims he is oppressed because people don't say "Merry Xmas" to him, but instead say "Happy Holidays," is full of shit if he makes a claim of oppression in comparison with how, for instance, Muslims are maligned more and more often in the US.

So it seems that the Oppression Olympics must be avoided, but we must also point out that not all oppressions are the same. Which is a tough place to be, conceptually.

Int'l Blog Against Racism Week

What Does the Middle-class White Hetero Bio-male Have to Say About Racism?

Note: This post isn't directly related to feminism in the strict sense, but as I see the causes of feminism and anti-racism as inextricably intertwined, I'm posting it here anyway.

It's International Blog Against Racism Week in Blogland. Being an ally is tricky, most of the time. For instance, I am aware that, as a white guy in North America, talking about racism can easily come off as self-congratulatory--it's hard to talk about experiences in my life that I am proud of, for instance, where I took a stand against racism, without coming off like I want a cookie. And yet, I want to talk about my experiences around racism--and I would like to do so by not only talking about the ways in which I find racism in my self. So, I'll just leave it that I've been part of a racist culture for so long that I will always struggle with my blind spots, and with racism within myself, but I'll put forward something that I'm proud of. Not because I want a cookie, or because I think such actions are as important as what others have to go through on a daily basis, are forced to go through on a daily basis, but because I have to be proud of myself for the ways in which I struggle against the dominant paradigm, even when it costs me, and those I care about.

I am estranged from my stepfather's family, for the most part, and I am estranged from them because I refused to sit around and listen to them make casually racist statements. We were all sitting around the Thanksgiving table (hello, paging Dr. Irony) and my stepfather's brother, who lived next door to my parents, was lamenting that my parents were selling their house. He was worried that 'some mexicans' would move in, and that he'd have to have them as neighbors. Everybody sort of chuckled and knowingly laughed. I asked why somebody's race would matter regarding who moved in next door. He fumbled a bit, as people often do when forced to explain their racism with more than a knowing wink and a laugh, but explained to me that it would drive property values down and the like. I told him he was a racist, and full of it, and I left the table. Later, I blogged about the situation, explaining that I had put up with less overt racism from my family for so long, and that I wasn't going to put up with it any longer. My step-sister-in-law had been reading my blog (though I didn't know that) and was upset that I had included her as a racist. It's interesting how some people don't think anything short of overt racism is racism at all. "Sure, I laugh when people make racist comments, but I don't hate people of color!"

In the end, I didn't change anyone's minds (though I still hold out hope that I made them think twice about at least the most overt kinds of racism), and I managed to piss off my entire step-family (except my stepfather, who has an interesting take on life--though we often disagree, we seek out our commonalities). I don't care so much, really, because if they're not willing to even discuss stuff, I don't have time for them; on the other hand, my mother really suffers the most because she doesn't get to have me around during a lot of family events.

At any rate, I tell this story just to point out that, if you're a white guy out there wondering what you can do, this is the sort of thing I would like to see more of, both in myself and in others.

Five Paces Behind

Once in a while I walk to work, which takes me about 35 minutes. It's a lovely walk, actually, half of which is right next to a lake. I've often noticed that people are a bit more friendly in the morning around the lake--oftentimes people nod or say hello, and it looks like the 'regulars' all know each other. I did notice something interesting and strange today, while walking. Two separate couples passed me going the opposite direction. In each case, they were older couples, both people of Chinese descent, and the man was walking about 5 steps ahead of the woman. It's odd to me, and I was beginning to think about it in terms of gender and race, when a third couple passed me with the same configuration, except that both of these people were of some sort of European descent. Now, I don't know the actual cultural histories of any of these people--could be they were all born and raised in the US, or that they were all recent immigrants, or any combination in between. I think it says something about me that I began to attribute something to racial/cultural reasons, when in fact it may have little to do with race--in fact, it may just have more to do with age or class than race.

Also, there is a somehow similar tradition I've recognized ever since I was a kid in the US--if two couples are walking together, the men will often walk in front and the women behind.

Still, it bothers me when I see couples like this. Not that they should all be walking hand-in-hand getting smoochy--just that I (so far) have never seen a couple where the man walked behind, so it smacks of patriarchy no matter how one looks at it. In once case, I actually felt sorry for the man, because he was obviously straining, with a cane, and possibly older than his wife, straining to walk faster than he might want to, because his wife was in obviously better shape than he was...why on earth not let her lead? Ah, the standards of male masculinity.

Resisting Traditional (Religious) Masculinities

One of the silver linings of the 'discussion' (such as it is) of Jessica Valenti's Full Frontal Feminism for me is the rediscovery of brownfemipower at Women of Color Blog. I don't always agree with what she has to say (erm...who do I agree with all of the time?), but she has some really powerful things to say, and often deals with issues without trying to mask their complexity. One fine example of this is her follow-up post to a post about la familia, and the ways that strong belief in family life for Chicanas can be a strong anti-woman force, sometimes. She says:

For a long time, I didn’t realize that what we were talking about was abuse. This wasn’t what we saw on Oprah or the Burning Bed–this wasn’t submissive white woman with down cast eyes and forlorn face. This was a bunch of lively and fierce mamitas figuring out how to live with something they didn’t know how to get out of. Something they didn’t know how to get out of because there was no place to escape to, no place to run to, no place to hide. My friend’s family were all back in Washington State–they had migrated here when she was in high school, and she had stayed behind when she got married. There was one homeless shelter in the city, and it was run by hard line Christian Evangelicals that wouldn’t even let husbands and wives sleep together on the same floor and required you to go to services every night (Christian, not Catholic). And if you can’t go to your family and you won’t go to a shelter, which neighborhood family do you turn to that isn’t yours? The one that is currently living in their car or a hotel? The one whose father just lost the only job in the family? The one with four kids (and another on the way) living in a one bedroom house? Or the one whose mami was also getting her ass kicked? Because there was no one to turn to, these women, (myself included), learned how to “take it”. How to live with abuse in a way that made them feel that they still had control of their lives, that they still had some say.

In one section of one post, brownfemipower brings together so many factors of oppression, and recognizing how they intersect, and how that intersection plays out in real life, for many women, that I'm pretty amazed at her writing. This is exactly the sort of thing that sometimes keeps me from writing about where oppressions intersect, because it's difficult to do justice to any one aspect while talking about as many as possible. I think she manages to do it very well, and you should read the whole darn thing.

The reason I bring her post up here is twofold: First off, it's apparent to me having read a bunch of the stuff around Valenti's book, that, whatever the truth of accusations leveled against her (I'm holding off commenting too much about it until the dust settles, mostly because it's too overwhelming at the moment, and I don't think I can analyze it at all objectively), everybody who calls themselves a feminist can do more to be inclusive of everybody. I think I do an ok job when it comes to gender inclusiveness (i.e. I get lots of emails saying, "What do you mean by 'people of all genders'?); I think I manage to bring class into discussions quite often as well; I am getting better at including queer perspectives. But I am shitty at inclusiveness when it comes to race. And age. And Ableism. There are lots of good reasons as to why, but none of them mean that I can avoid trying harder, and still be a good person. So I'm trying harder. So that's one reason I'm bringing in brownfemipower's ideas, as they relate to some of the stuff I want to say. Even as I say this I feel the spectre of tokenism, I look around for where I'm acting like a privileged jackass, I fear that I'm not being inclusive of lots of different other groups of people, that I'm 'stealing' her ideas without adding to them or doing justice to them. But y'know, I have to start somewhere, and this is where I'm starting at.

The second reason I bring up brownfemipower's post is that I think the point about the religious-based shelter being a place that reinforces the very roles that are part of the problem a good deal of the time is an important point, and one that's related to men and masculinity. Religions are not gender-neutral, and I haven't run into a popular religion yet that isn't at bottom incredibly sexist. This is something to be discussed, of course, because lots of people think that, while some religions are like that, their version of their religion isn't. And that may well be the case--but I want to have those discussions with people, but as I do I will keep pointing out that organized religion tends to reinforce patriarchy, that it is one of the main forces for keeping traditional masculinity and femininity alive. And, to bring in some of what brownfemipower has to say--it may be the case that traditional conceptions of family can't help but reinforce patriarchy as well (though, of course, she doesn't say that, exactly--those are my words). And I want to claim that traditional conceptions of family are often based in traditional religious views, which are quite sexist, so we ought not be surprised that the conceptions of family that come with them are, as well.