The performance of activism
Hi friend,
I didn't send a newsletter last week, because it's not my place to speak on the experience of racism and structural discrimination. It still isn't. I'm also not here to repeat all the stuff we have been throwing at each other in our shared social media echo chamber over the past two weeks, proving to ourselves how woke we are.
I know ya'll have seen the reading lists (who are they for, really?), podcasts tipps, and recommendations of black creators to follow. I hope that this uprising will last longer than the outcry after the viral Männerwelten video. I also hope that everyone is holding themselves accountable as to transforming their social media performatism into offline action.
And while I can't speak about the experience of racism, I can speak about how to work towards anti-racism. Because during my early twenties (jeez, saying this makes me feel ancient) I held countless anti-discrimination and anti-racism workshops at schools with the Colored Glasses initiative (if you are a teacher, I can only recommend booking them – once Covid lets you). First, only occasionally as a volunteer, then full time for eight months, clocking three to five workshops per week.
The workshops were not about breaking down structural racism, but they were focused on how racism manifests in our personal lives and what each of us can do about it. Two things lie at the core of this work (amazingly, you don't need an instagram account to do either):
1) Becoming anti-racist is uncomfortable, tedious work that is never finished and never glamorous. It's like Groundhog Day. You have to relentlessly question your inherent beliefs, recognize your privilege and train yourself to see injustice and discrimination.
Then you have to work up the courage to step in when you witness discrimination and – the most tricky part – catch yourself discriminating against BPOC, however unconsciously it may be happening. It's not pretty, and it's most definitely not instagramable.
2) Screaming "don't be racist!" at others, or urging people to "read these 27 books about race" is not doing anything other than making you feel better about yourself. It doesn't hurt anyone either, but if you really want to have an impact, you need to be willing to have long, non-condescending, one-on-one conversations. Most likely not with the people inside your social media bubble, but with relatives, co-workers or neighbors. Begin on a personal level (stereotypes is always a good, non-threatening starting point) and move on from there.
I have just been so bothered with lots of white folks suddenly performing anti-racist activism on social media, when you know that they didn't waste a thought about the matter three weeks ago, when it wasn't trendy. Yes, being an ally is important. But you can be an ally without centering yourself in the conversation.
"Choosing to walk away from the internet to amplify black voices, doesn't have to be performed you can just walk away. But we’re in this age of performing that we are the good ones. So we can’t leave without letting you know why. "
And I'm definitely part of the problem, as I also posted the black square, thinking I was supporting a well intended movement. It took me a few days to learn why it was the worst move I could have made and I'm sorry about that. I messed up.
I found this Vox article a great resource on how to actually be an ally to BPOC instead of just declaring allyship. Lastly: Absolutely join demonstrations if you can, and if you're cool with crowds at the moment. But can we not do stylish black and white pictures, in which black protestors are staged like zoo animals? Cool.
Here's what made me stop, think and feel over the past weeks:
⭐️ Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams. A funny yet agitating novel about being a young, black woman in London today. It hammered home the sentiment of "twice as hard, half as much" and showed me, once again, how little I know about the reality of the lives of BPOC.
⭐️ Normal People on Hulu. Yes, finally. And my heart has yet to recover. The show is less political than the book, but it makes up for it with the most tender and intimate sex scenes I have ever seen on TV. It also once and for all proves: consent is sexy. Very sexy.
⭐️ Speaking of sexy: I very much enjoyed Annie Lord's Vice piece on the "accidental, indescribable hotness" of Connell's neck chain: "within the thin strand of silver, lies a whole sign system of power, bad boy behaviour and effeminate glamour."
⭐️ I have just as much love for Daisy Edgar-Jones, who plays Marianne so beautifully and made a surprise appearance on the How To Fail podcast. She talks about the sex scenes (duh) and muses on the title "Normal People". What is normal, anyway?
⭐️ Last one about Normal People: the soundtrack. Gorgeous!
⭐️ While on Hulu, I also watched "Little Fires Everywhere", which blew me away. A story about race, class, motherhood, secrets and lives not lived. Brilliantly directed, challenging, moving – and starring two of the most phenomenal actresses of our time, Kerry Washington and Reese Witherspoon.
⭐️ Elizabeth Gilbert on Tim Ferris' podcast. Two hours of pure wisdom: She talks about creativity, intuition, grief and how to say No.
⭐️ David Berry about the concept of nostalgia. It's a feeling I revel in, sometimes too much. Berry defines it as "yearning distilled to its essence, yearning not really for its own sake but because there is nothing else to be done." and concludes, quite tragically: "We yearn to go back because life is loss, loss, loss, all the way down."
⭐️ Roxane Gay on Jameela Jamil's I Weigh podcast. Gay is a successful author. She's also a queer, fat, black woman, who is very outspoken on Twitter – and who takes down her haters one by one. She speaks about a trend called "concern trolling" and where she finds the strength to clap back.
⭐️ The Last Dance on Netflix. I just started this documentary series on Michael Jordan's last season with the Chicago Bulls, and I'm absolutely hooked. I personally have never experienced harder workouts than while playing US High School Basketball (Cross Fit ain't got nothing on Coach Ronnfeldt) and have the highest respect for the masters of this game.
⭐️ Phoebe Bridgers released a new song. Which reminded me of how great all of her music is.
🇩🇪 Eigenwerbung: Für unseren Corona-Podcast haben wir Karin Nordmeyer, die Präsidentin des deutschen UN Women Komitees, interviewt. Wir sprachen über Care Arbeit, häusliche Gewalt und über den unfassbaren Rückschritt, den Corona für die Gleichberechtigung bedeutet. Und ich hoffe nur, dass ich, wenn ich alt bin, auch immer noch so on fire bin wie diese Frau.
That's it for today, I hope you're staying sane and healthy as best you can.
Until next time,
Anna
Bonus material: This tweet cracked me up – probably more than it should have. Anyway, memes like this are the way to my heart.