Decolonization is as much a process as a goal. It requires a profound re-centring of Indigenous worldviews in our movements for political liberation, social transformation, renewed cultural kinships, and the development of an economic system that serves rather than threatens our collective life on this planet. As stated by Toronto-based activist Syed Hussan “Decolonization is a dramatic re-imagining of relationships with land, people and the state. Much of this requires study, it requires conversation, it is a practice, it is an unlearning.”

It is a positive sign that a growing number of social movements are recognizing that Indigenous self-determination must become the foundation for all our broader social-justice mobilizing. Indigenous peoples are the most impacted by the pillage of lands, experience disproportionate poverty and homelessness, are over-represented in statistics of missing and murdered women, and are the primary targets of repressive policing and prosecutions in the criminal injustice system. Rather than being treated as a single issue within a laundry list of demands, Indigenous self-determination is increasingly understood as intertwined with struggles against racism, poverty, police violence, war and occupation, violence against women, and environmental justice.

Intersectional approaches can, however, subordinate and compartmentalize Indigenous struggle within the machinery of existing Leftist narratives: anarchists point to the anti-authoritarian tendencies within Indigenous communities, environmentalists highlight the connection to land that Indigenous communities have, anti-racists subsume Indigenous people into the broader discourse about systemic oppression, and women’s organizations point to relentless violence borne by Indigenous women in discussions about patriarchy.

We have to be cautious to avoid replicating the state’s assimilationist model of liberal pluralism, whereby Indigenous identities are forced to fit within our existing groups and narratives. The inherent right to traditional lands and to self-determination is expressed collectively and should not be subsumed within the discourse of individual or human rights. Furthermore, it is imperative to understand being Indigenous as not just an identity but a way of life, which is intricately connected to Indigenous people’s relationship to the land and all its inhabitants. Indigenous struggle cannot simply be accommodated within other struggles; it demands solidarity on its own terms.

The practice of solidarity

One of the basic principles of Indigenous solidarity organizing is the notion of taking leadership. According to this principle, non-natives must be accountable and responsive to the experiences, voices, needs, and political perspectives of Indigenous people themselves. From an anti-oppression perspective, meaningful support for Indigenous struggles cannot be directed by non-natives. Taking leadership means being humble and honouring frontline voices of resistance, as well as offering tangible solidarity as needed and requested. Specifically, this translates to taking initiative for self-education about the specific histories of the lands we reside upon, organizing support with the clear guidance and consent of an Indigenous community or group, building long-term relationships of accountability, and never assuming or taking for granted the personal and political trust that non-natives may earn from Indigenous peoples over time.

In offering support to a specific community in their struggle, non-natives should organize with a mandate from the community and an understanding of the parameters of the support that is being sought. Once these guidelines are established, non-natives should be pro-active in offering logistical, fundraising, and campaign support. Clear lines of communication must be maintained and a commitment made for long-term support. This means not just being present for blockades or in moments of crisis, but instead, activists should sustain a multiplicity of meaningful and diverse relationships on an ongoing basis. Feminist writer bell hooks suggests, “Solidarity is not the same as support. To experience solidarity, we must have a community of interests, shared beliefs and goals around which to unite, to build Sisterhood. Support can be occasional. It can be given and just as easily withdrawn. Solidarity requires sustained, ongoing commitment.”

Organizing in accordance with these principles is not always straightforward. Respecting Indigenous leadership is not the same as waiting around to be told what to do while you do nothing. “I am waiting to be told exactly what to do” should not be an excuse for inaction, and seeking guidance must be weighed against the possibility of further burdening Indigenous people with questions. The appropriate line between being too interventionist and being paralyzed will be aided by a willingness to decentre oneself and by learning and acting from a place of responsibility rather than guilt.

Cultivating an ethic of responsibility begins with non-natives understanding ourselves as beneficiaries of the illegal settlement of Indigenous people’s land and unjust appropriation of Indigenous peoples’ resources and jurisdiction. When faced with this truth it is common for activists to get stuck in their feelings of guilt, which I would argue is a state of self-absorption that actually upholds privilege. While guilt is often representative of a much-needed shift in consciousness, in itself it does nothing to motivate the responsibility necessary to actively dismantle entrenched systems of oppression. In a movement-building roundtable long-time Montreal activist Jaggi Singh expressed that “[t]he only way to escape complicity with settlement is active opposition to it. That only happens in the context of on-the-ground, day-to-day organizing, and creating and cultivating the spaces where we can begin dialogues and discussions as natives and non-natives.”

Alliances with Indigenous communities should be based on shared values, principles, and analysis. For example during the anti-Olympics campaign in 2010, activists chose not to align with the Four Host First Nations, a pro-corporate body created in conjunction with the Vancouver Olympics Organizing Committee. Instead, we took leadership from and strengthened alliances with land defenders in the Secwepemc and St’át’imc nations and Indigenous people being directly impacted by homelessness and poverty in the Downtown Eastside. In general, however, differences surrounding strategy within a community should be for community members to discuss and resolve. We should be cautious of a persistent dynamic where solidarity activists start to fixate on the internal politics of an oppressed community.  Allies should avoid trying to intrude and interfere in struggles within and between a community, which perpetuates the civilizing ideology of the White Man’s Burden and violates the basic principles of self-determination.

Building intentional alliances should also avoid devolution into tokenization. Non-natives often determine which Indigenous voices to privilege by defaulting to the more “well-known, “easy to get ahold of” or “less hostile” Indigenous activists. This selectivity distorts the diversity present in Indigenous communities and can exacerbate tensions and colonially-imposed divisions between Indigenous peoples. In opposing the colonialism of the state and settler society, non-natives must recognize our own role in perpetuating colonialism within our solidarity efforts. We actively counter this by theorizing and discussing the nuanced issues of solidarity, leadership, strategy, and analysis not in abstraction but within our real and informed and sustained relationships with Indigenous peoples.

Decolonizing Relationships

While centring and honouring Indigenous voices and leadership, the obligation for decolonization does rest on all of us. As written by Nora Burke in Building a Canadian Decolonization Movement: Fighting the Occupation at Home, “A decolonisation movement cannot be comprised solely of solidarity and support for Indigenous peoples’ sovereignty and self-determination. If we are in support of self-determination, we too need to be self-determining. It is time to cut the state out of this relationship, and to replace it with a new relationship, one which is mutually negotiated, and premised on a core respect for autonomy and freedom.”

Being responsible for decolonization often requires us to locate ourselves within the context of colonization in complicated ways – often as simultaneously oppressed and complicit. This is true, for example, for racialized migrants in Canada. Within the anti-colonial migrant justice movement of No One Is Illegal, we go beyond demanding citizenship rights for racialized migrants as that would lend false legitimacy to a settler state. We challenge the official state discourse of multiculturalism that undermines the autonomy of Indigenous communities by granting and mediating rights through the imposed structures of the state and seeks to assimilate diversities into a singular Canadian identity. Indigenous feminist Andrea Smith reminds us that “All non-Native peoples are promised the ability to join in the colonial project of settling indigenous lands… In all of these cases, we would check our aspirations against the aspirations of other communities to ensure that our model of liberation does not become the model of oppression for others.” In B.C., immigrants and refugees have participated in several delegations to Indigenous blockades, while Indigenous communities have offered protection and refuge for migrants facing deportation.

Decolonization is the process whereby we intend the conditions we want to live and the social relations we wish to have. We have to supplant the colonial logic of the state itself. German philosopher Gustav Landauer wrote almost a hundred years ago that “the State is a condition, a certain relationship between human beings, a mode of behaviour; we destroy it by contracting other relationships.”  Decolonization requires us to exercise our sovereignties differently and to reconfigure our communities based on shared experiences, ideals, and visions. Almost all Indigenous formulations of sovereignty – such as the Two Row Wampum agreement of peace, friendship, and respect between the Haudenosaunee nations and settlers – are premised on revolutionary notions of respectful coexistence and stewardship of the land, which goes far beyond any Western liberal democratic ideal.

I have been encouraged to think of human interconnectedness and kinship in building alliances with Indigenous communities. Black/Cherokee writer Zainab Amadahy uses the term “Relationship Framework” to describe how our activism should be grounded: “Understanding the world through a Relationship Framework, where we don’t see ourselves, our communities, or our species as inherently superior to any other, but rather see our roles and responsibilities to each other as inherent to enjoying our life experiences.” Striving toward decolonization and walking together toward transformation requires us to challenge a dehumanizing social organization that perpetuates our isolation from each other and normalizes a lack of responsibility to one another and the Earth.

A version of this article originally appeared in Briarpatch here, which is itself a much altered and condensed version of a chapter from the 2012 forthcoming book Organize! Building from the local for global justice, edited by Aziz Choudry, Jill Hanley and Eric Shragge, Oakland: PM Press)

Harsha Walia is a South Asian activist and writer based in Vancouver, Coast Salish Territories. She is active in a variety of different social movements, particularly migrant justice, anti racism, Indigenous solidarity, Palestine solidarity, and anti-imperialist struggles. In her organizing over the past decade she has prioritized support for Indigenous communities, from multiple land defense struggles to justice for missing and murdered Indigenous women. Her writings have appeared in alternative and mainstream publications, magazines, journals and newspapers. She can be reached at email hidden; JavaScript is required or on Twitter @HarshaWalia

1. Power and privilege play out in our group dynamics and we must continually struggle with how we challenge power and privilege in our practice.
2. We can only identify how power and privilege play out when we are conscious and committed to understanding how racism, sexism, homophobia, and all other forms of oppression affect each one of us.
3. Until we are clearly committed to anti-oppression practice all forms of oppression will continue to divide our movements and weaken our power.
4. Developing a anti-oppression practice is life long work and requires a life long commitment. No single workshop is sufficient for learning to change one’s behaviors. We are all vulnerable to being oppressive and we need to continuously struggle with these issues.
5. Dialogue and discussion are necessary and we need to learn how to listen non defensively and communicate respectfully if we are going to have effective anti-oppression practice. Challenge yourself to be honest and open and take risks to address oppression head on.

Anti-Oppression Practice

These practices are based on a series on conversations on the issue of racism. We recognize that there are many other forms of oppression that must be addressed. We have taken these practices and attempted to generalize them to other forms of oppression. This list is a beginning and it needs to be expanded upon. In the future we will continue discussions on all forms of oppression.

• When witnessing or experiencing racism, sexism, etc interrupt the behavior and address it on the spot or later; either one on one, or with a few allies.
• Give people the benefit of the doubt. Think about ways to address behavior that will encourage change and try to encourage dialogue, not debate.
• Keep space open for anti-oppression discussions; try focusing on one form of oppression at a time – sexism, racism, classism, etc.
• Respect different styles of leadership and communication.
• White people need to take responsibility for holding other white people accountable.
• Try not to call people out because they are not speaking.
• Be conscious of how much space you take up or how much you speak.
• Be conscious of how your language may perpetuate oppression.
• Don’t push people to do things just because of their race and gender, base it on their word and experience and skills.
• Promote anti-oppression in everything you do, in and outside of activist space.
• Avoid generalizing feelings, thoughts, behaviors etc. to a whole group
• Set anti-oppression goals and continually evaluate whether or not you are meeting them.
• Don’t feel guilty, feel motivated. Realizing that you are part of the problem doesn’t mean you can’t be an active part of the solution!

1. Transforming the world means challenging and changing institutions and ourselves. Systems of oppression are ingrained in both and, accordingly, must be confronted in both. More than once an activist of color or an actively anti-racist white person has confronted me: “Why are you always rushing off to do solidarity actions with people in other parts of the world when you don’t even make time to deal with your own shit?” They’re right. As white student activists, we are in fact notorious for protesting injustices across the globe, yet neglecting to confront systems of oppression on our campuses, in our communities, and in ourselves. Being an effective student activist means making priorities, and at times we must prioritize slower-paced, not-so-flashy work over dramatic actions that offer immediate gratification. Being an effective white student activist means prioritizing daily dismantlement of white privilege–creating and participating in forums for whites to grapple with racism, allying with struggles that people of color are engaged in, constantly remaining open to our own mistakes and feedback from others.
2. Predominantly white activist organizations are built within society as it is and, as a result, are plagued by racism and other forms of oppression. We can minimize or deny this reality (“we’re all radicals here, not racists”) or we can work to confront it head-on. Confronting it requires not only openly challenging the dynamics of privilege in our groups, but also creating structures and forums for addressing oppression. For instance, two experienced activists I know often point out that, sadly, Kinko’s has a better sexual harassment policy than most activist groups. Workers are accountable for their actions and victims have some means of redress. With all of our imaginative alternatives to capitalist and hierarchical social arrangements, I have no doubt that we can construct even more egalitarian and comprehensive ways of dealing with sexism, racism, and other oppressive forces in our organizations. And we must start now.
3. We absolutely should not be “getting” people of color to join “our” organizations. This is not just superficial; it’s tokenistic, insulting, and counterproductive. Yet this is the band-aid that white activists are often quick to apply when accused of racist organizing. Mobilizing for the WTO protests, for example, I had one white organizer reassure me that we didn’t need to concern ourselves with racism, but with “better outreach.” In his view, the dynamics, priorities, leadership, and organizing style, among other important features of our group, were obviously beyond critical scrutiny. But they shouldn’t be. We must always look at our organizations and ourselves first. Whose voices are heard? Whose priorities are adopted? Whose knowledge is valued? The answers to these questions define a group more than how comprehensive its outreach is. Consequently, instead of looking to “recruit” in order to simply increase diversity, we, as white activists, need to turn inward, working to make truly anti-racist, anti-oppressive organizations.
4. We have much to learn from the leadership of activists of color. As student organizers Amanda Klonsky and Daraka Larimore-Hall write, “Only through accepting the leadership of those who experience racism in their daily lives, can white students identify their role in building an anti-racist movement.” Following the lead of people of color is also one active step toward toppling conventional racial hierarchies; and it challenges us, as white folks (particularly men), to step back from aggressively directing everything with an overwhelming sense of entitlement. Too often white students covet and grasp leadership positions in large campus activist groups and coalitions. As in every other sector of our society, myths of “merit” cloak these racial dynamics, but in reality existing student leaders aren’t necessarily the “best” leaders; rather, they’re frequently people who have enjoyed lifelong access to leadership skills and positions–largely white, middle-class men. We need to strengthen the practice of following the lead of activists of color. We’ll be rewarded with, among other things, good training working as authentic allies rather than patronizing “friends”; for being an ally means giving assistance when and as asked.
5. As white activists, we need to shut up and listen to people of color, especially when they offer criticism. We have to override initial defensive impulses and keep our mouths tightly shut, except perhaps to ask clarifying questions. No matter how well-intentioned and conscientious we are, notice how much space we (specifically white men) occupy with our daily, self-important jabber. Notice how we assume that we’re entitled to it. When people of color intervene in that space to offer something, particularly something about how we can be better activists and better people, that is a very special gift. Indeed, we need to recognize such moments for what they are: precious opportunities for us to become more effective anti-racists. Remember to graciously listen and apply lessons learned.
6. White guilt always gets in the way. Anarcha-feminist Carol Ehrlich explains, “Guilt leads to inaction. Only action, to re-invent the everyday and make it something else, will change social relations.” In other words, guilt doesn’t help anyone, and it frequently just inspires navel-gazing. The people who experience the brunt of white supremacy could care less whether we, as white activists, feel guilty. Guilt doesn’t change police brutality and occupation, nor does it alter a history of colonialism, genocide, and slavery. No, what we really have to offer is our daily commitment and actions to resist racism. And action isn’t just protesting. It includes any number of ways that we challenge the world and ourselves. Pushing each other to seriously consider racism is action, as are grappling with privilege and acting as allies. Only through action, and the mistakes we make and the lessons we learn, can we find ways to work in true solidarity.
7. “Radical” doesn’t necessarily mean getting arrested, engaging in police confrontations, or taking to the streets. These kinds of actions are important, but they’re not the be-all and end-all of effective activism. Indeed, exclusively focusing on them ignores crucial questions of privilege and overlooks the diverse, radical ways that people resist oppression every day. In the wake of the WTO protests, for instance, many white activists are heavily focused on direct action. Yet in the words of anti-capitalist organizer Helen Luu, “the emphasis on this method alone often works to exclude people of colour because what is not being taken into account is the relationship between the racist (in)justice system and people of colour.” Moreover, this emphasis can exclude the very radical demands, tactics, and kinds of organizing used by communities of color–struggling for police accountability, occupying ancestral lands, and challenging multinational polluters, among many others. All too frequently “radicalism” is defined almost solely by white, middle-class men. We can do better, though; and I mean we in the sense of all of us who struggle in diverse ways to go to the root–to dismantle power and privilege, and fundamentally transform our society.
8. Radical rhetoric, whether it’s Marxist, anarchist, Situationist, or some dialect of activistspeak, can be profoundly alienating and can uphold white privilege. More than once, I’ve seen white radicals (myself included) take refuge in our own ostensibly libratory rhetorical and analytical tools: Marxists ignoring “divisive” issues of cultural identity and autonomy; anarchists assuming that, since their groups have “no hierarchy,” they don’t need to worry about insuring space for the voices of folks who are traditionally marginalized; Situationist-inspired militants collapsing diverse systems of privilege and oppression into obscure generalizations; radical animal rights activists claiming that they obviously know better than communities of color. And this is unfortunately nothing new. While all of these analytical tools have value, like most tools, they can be used to uphold oppression even as they profess to resist it. Stay wary.
9. We simply cannot limit our anti-oppression work to the struggle against white supremacy. Systems of oppression and privilege intertwine and operate in extremely complex ways throughout our society. Racism, patriarchy, classism, heterosexism, able-ism, ageism, and others compound and extend into all spheres of our lives. Our activism often takes the form of focusing on one outgrowth at a time–combating prison construction, opposing corporate exploitation of low-wage workers, challenging devastating US foreign policies. Yet we have to continually integrate a holistic understanding of oppression and how it operates–in these instances, how state repression, capitalism, and imperialism rest on oppression and privilege. Otherwise, despite all of our so-called radicalism, we risk becoming dangerously myopic single-issue activists. “Watch these mono-issue people,” warns veteran activist Bernice Johnson Reagon. “They ain’t gonna do you no good.” Whatever our chosen focuses as activists, we must work both to recognize diverse forms of oppression and to challenge them–in our society, our organizations, and ourselves.
10. We need to do all of this anti-racist, anti-oppressive work out of respect for ourselves as well as others. White supremacy is our problem as white people. We benefit from it and are therefore obligated to challenge it. This is no simplistic politics of guilt, though. People of color undeniably suffer the most from racism, but we are desensitized and scarred in the process. Struggling to become authentically anti-racist radicals and to fundamentally change our racist society, then, means reclaiming our essential humanity while forging transformative bonds of solidarity. In the end, we’ll be freer for it.

2. ask one of the only arabs in your community to write the article for your newspaper on the situation in palestine.
a) then, after they write it, take their research, re-write the article and sign your name to it.

3. in a big group of many activists, say “how can we bring more people of color into our struggle.”

4. in a big group of many activists, say “black people don’t have the time to care about trees”.

5. go up to the Makah woman at the unlearning racism workshop and say “I saw a program about Crazy Horse on PBS, he did alot for your people.”

6. act like the only people of non-white ancestry in your community are the ones visible to you.
a) assume that light skinned people around you are white without ever knowing their ancestry.

7. talk about race as if the only groups are black and white.
a) talk about race as if the only groups are black, white and hispanic.
b) talk about race as if the only groups are black, white, hispanic and asian.
c) talk about race as if the only groups are black, white, hispanic, asian and native american.

8. picture a violent, irrational arab everytime the word “terrorist” is mentioned. ignore the arabs who do not fit into this stereotype.

9. look to a non-white person in the room everytime racism is brought up.
a) make sure they have the last and most defining word on the subject.
b) sympathetically and silently agree with everything they say.
c) thank them profusely.

10. fearfully avoid assertive non-white people in your community.

11. ask a native person; “do you make your own jewelry?”

12. use the identity of white anti-racist as a shield against accusations of racism.

13. ask an arab you don’t know what they think about the war in iraq.

14. after a non-white person in your predominantly white workplace points out racism, ask “what are some of the positives of working here?”

15. get a racist white person to facilitate a panel on racism featuring non-white queer people for a predominately white audience.

16. pit light-skinned non-white people against each other based on how they identify racially and what you think is most correct.

17. say “i noticed a lot of black, filipino, and korean people who own grocery stores sell a lot of liquor.”

18. when a multiracial native person tells you their heritages, say “what a magical mix.”

19. tell a racially mixed black person, “you don’t act black.”

20. when you find out that someone is mizrachi, say:
a) “you’re an arab jew? that’s fucked up.”
b) “what are you talking about? I’ve never heard of sephardi/mizrachi jews. what makes you think you’re a person of color?”
c) “jews are from europe.”
d) “there are no palestinian jews.”
e) all of the above.

21. at the last minute, get 2 non-white people to facilitate a workshop on racism at your skill share and make sure none of the white folks from your organization attend the workshop. Profoundly, deeply thank the facilitators.

22. if a non-white person wants to organize a workshop at your conference specific to their ethnic community, before you “let” them, ask them “how many do you need?”

23. organize a conference with an all white organizing committee.
a) when non-white people organize at the conference and want to speak for themselves, accuse them of “hijicking” the event.
b) tell them you will publish their written statement on your website, and wait two years to do so.

24. if you see a black man speak about racism, say “he was so angry–but very articulate.”

25. if you’re white and confronted on your racism, cry.

Demands from women:

• Give us more mad props
• Do no sexually objectify us
• Don’t judge women
• Stay focused on sexism, not your gender role socialization
• Recognize women for all work that is done, even yours
• Share secretarial and clean-up work in activism
• Actively combat sexism
• Take reproductive responsibility
• Back up women when they’re being attacked
• Do housekeeping stuff
• Don’t be egotistical because you’re “better” than mainstream guys
• Respect women as activists
• Be more self-sufficient; nurture each other
• Don’t be defensive
• Take sexism on as your struggle
• Don’t act as if you can understand our oppression
• Take action against sexism in your own communities
• Remember that equality is the standard of which to judge yourself by, not the current state of things
• Don’t trivialize women’s issues
• Learn how to have one healthy relationship before having more
• Women don’t want to be represented and referred to as partners of men
• Don’t judge women for being “girly”
• Fight sexual violence in your community
• Realize that women don’t hate men
• Honor women for non-activist stuff they do
• Take part in intimate relationships without sex
• Don’t force women to be “nags”
• Realize that when you’re off traveling and train-hopping, women are the ones staying at home and building community
• Make childcare a priority
• Don’t force women into polyamory
• Even when dealing with your own gender role socialization, address sexism
• We want an immediate commitment to fighting sexism
• Write stuff down!
• Get over your ego
• Realize that sexism runs really deep and always plays itself out
• Don’t gawk at our body parts
• See us as activists; don’t focus on our sexuality
• Don’t make excuses for your sexism, deal with it
• Be proactive, not reactive
• Don’t expect us to wait for you to be comfortable with your oppression of us before we make demands
• Don’t force us to take on traditional gender roles
• Respect our womanhood
• Realize that men are still the oppressors; it’s your job to stop it, not just understand it
• Stand up for women; assume that they’re right
• Don’t make it so hard to be friends
• Realize that women don’t always feel comfortable or empowered enough to stand up for themselves
• Realize that sexual violence is prevalent in this community
• Be accountable for your actions
• Stand up to each other
• Don’t ask us to cuddle if we’re in a platonic relationship
• Be mindful of the language you use (i.e., girls, boys, guys, women, men)
• Realize that we are not representative of all women
• Don’t just be “not surprised” about our Silent Witness
• Listen to women, even the “hard asses”
• Give equal consideration to our wants and needs
• Think through your actions
• Don’t assume that you’re the ones who define “radical”
• Recognize who’s not here [at the gender conference]
• Combat size-ism; acknowledge it as a problem
• Take all of our views into account
• Realize that our activism is restricted
• Don’t force guys’ projects on us, while ignoring women’s
• Don’t belittle our projects until a guy takes them on
• Realize that we deal with harassment constantly
• Recognize that sometimes we are physically not as strong; encourage us to do stuff, even teach us how
• Believe and support us
• Realize that “youth gone wild” is not necessarily radical
• Admit when you fuck up
• Encourage women to do adventurous stuff
• Don’t act like your “oppression” as men is comparable to ours as women
• Don’t assume that men set the standard for fun
• Realize that we [the women] may disagree on some of these points, but that does not at all invalidate us or them

Demands you forgot:

• Create an atmosphere that is dynamic and empowering
• Realize that we will support you
• Realize that we will help you with your mistakes
• Notice that we interact awesomely and respectfully with each other
• Realize that we do care about your gender issues, but it’s just not comparable to sexism
• Take responsibility for the sexist behavior at May Day
• Communicate in intimate relationships
• Take notice of the fact that several women mentioned specific instances of sexism in our community
• Take notice of the fact that several women spoke of incidents when men didn’t have their back

Tonight is the first of three sessions entitled, “Shinin’ the Lite on White.” This one is on white privilege. The second will be on white privilege behavior, and the third will be on white culture, or the culture of white supremacy.

The purpose of this series is threefold:

(1) To develop a definition of “white” so that we can deal with the problem more effectively;

(2) To strengthen our insights about white privilege in a white supremacy system; and

(3) To create a basis for developing an effective analysis and strategy for challenging white privilege as well as racial oppression.

Defining the Problem
Why Can’t We Just Get It Together?

In 1996, progressive activists in California waged a massive, multi-racial and militant struggle to save affirmative action. Though we raised the consciousness of millions of people, voters and non-voters, we lost at the ballot box. Fifty-six percent of California’s electorate voted “Yes” on Proposition 209, thus wiping out affirmative action in the public sector: in education, employment and contracting.

What happened? There were many analyses among activists, all of which held important kernels of truth:

• The electoral arena in California is a stacked deck when the Right uses racist initiatives. Though 47% of the population is people of color, 83% of the voters are white.
• The left was out spent by the right, and the Clinton campaign failed to keep its commitment to provide millions of dollars to wage an effective media campaign against the initiative.
• The wording of the initiative, billed as a “civil rights” policy, deliberately confused many well-meaning voters who would be expected to support equality in government programs.
• To wage a comprehensive grassroots organizing electoral campaign, in a state the size of California, activists should have started in 1995 and coordinated their efforts much more effectively.

These are important points. But something is missing. The organizers in communities of color reached their electoral objectives:
hundreds of thousands of new voters went to the polls, and the NO on 209 votes looked like this:

Asian Americans 61%, African Americans 74%, and Latinos 76%! But the groups organizing among white feminists did not reach their goals. To defeat 209, 55% of white women needed to vote NO. Instead, 57% of white women voted YES!

What happened? Most feminists know that white women have been the major beneficiaries of affirmative action in all its spheres. So why did we white women vote overwhelmingly *against our own interest as well as against social justice for people of color?*

To begin to analyze this problem, I believe we have to understand the history and role of white privilege in this country.

Brainstorm: “White” is not . . . “White” is . . .

To begin our discussion, I’d like to ask you to respond in cyberspace to the question, “What does “white” mean to you, as it refers to people?” Here are some guiding questions I’d like you to address in your response:

• Is “white” a skin color?
• What does your dictionary and thesaurus say about “white” as referring to people?
• Are “white” people a race?
• Is “white” an ethnicity (like Norwegian, Irish, Jewish, Russian)?
• Are white people who live in the USA “Americans?”
• Is there such a thing as “the white community” in the U.S.?
• If you are a person of color, what do you call people whose ancestors came from Europe?
• If your ancestors came from Europe, what do you call yourself?

White is — White Privilege

Just in case you may have put away the material from the first session of this workshop, I’d like to review the workshop definition of white privilege:

“U.S. institutions and culture give *preferential treatment* to people whose ancestors came from Europe over peoples whose ancestors are from the Americas, Africa, Asia and the Arab world; and *exempt* European Americans — white people — from the forms of racial and national oppression inflicted upon peoples from the Americas, Africa, Asia and the Arab world.

This web of institutional and cultural preferential treatment is called white privilege. In a white supremacy system, white privilege and racial oppression are two sides of the same coin.”

Non-ruling class white people are both oppressed and privileged. They are oppressed most significantly on the basis of class, gender and sexuality, and also on the basis of religion, culture, ethnicity, age, physical abilities and politics. At the same time, they are privileged in relation to peoples of color.

Historical Origins of White Privilege

In the early 1600′s, 50 wealthy Englishmen bought stock in the Virginia Company of London. Their stock options included large parcels of (indigenous) land in the new colony of Virginia, as well as the right to govern the colony.

These English gentlemen did not intend to work their lands in Virginia. To get workers, they contracted with English merchants who delivered impoverished English teenagers and kidnapped African people. By the second decade of colonization, working servants, both English and African, outnumbered “gentlemen” by perhaps 100 to 1.

Living and working conditions for African and English laborers were horrendous. Workers were regularly whipped, nearly starved to death, denied days of rest, and were refused permission to marry. English servants, who were supposedly protected under English poor laws, had limited times of servitude, but owners disregarded the laws. Those servants who were freed as required, usually died within a few years.

Under these conditions, African and English servants struggled to survive and resist their common oppression. They traded together, they made love together, and they made war together against their masters. Most servants were armed, since the wealthy used their servants to protect the frontiers against “hostile Indians.”

Virginia records document ten servant revolts in the mid-1600′s, culminating in the famous Bacon’s Rebellion of 1676. African and English servants, free workers and farmers, demanded land and pay for their labor. They burned down Jamestown, the colony’s capital. Colonial rulers had to call in the British army to subdue the rebellion.

Colonial land-owning legislators responded with a series of Slave Codes, enacted from 1680 through 1705. These codes legalized chattel slavery (the child of an enslaved woman would be enslaved for a lifetime) and severely restricted the rights of free Africans. The codes equated the terms “slave” and “Negro,” thus institutionalizing the world’s first system of racialized slavery.

The codes also set out the “rights” of and restrictions for “servants.” At first, “servants” referred ambiguously to both Africans and English. But as “slave” became synonymous with “Negro,” (the Spanish word for “Black,”) “servant” came to mean “white,” the term which replaced “English,” “Christian” or “wench” to refer to poor or indentured Europeans.

As the codes tightened the legal noose around enslaved Africans, they simultaneously loosened the legal bonds on English indentured servants. English or “white” servants were granted specific forms of privilege or preferential treatment which was specifically denied to slaves, or “Negroes.”

For example, the codes stipulated that servants could challenge unjust behavior of their masters in court; servants, both men and women, were entitled to specific “freedom dues,” paid in tobacco (the legal tender of the colony) when their term of servitude was over. Servants could get a small plot of land, provided they promised to guard the frontiers. Poor white males were offered the first paid jobs in the colony — on the slave patrols. They got bounties for every slave they caught. (I think the slave patrol is the institutional ancestor of the police department.)

All these “privileges” were specified as being available only to “white” people. However, if any poor whites acted in solidarity with any Africans, they would be physically branded, and their privileges removed. Thus the term “white” became synonymous with “privilege”* in colonial law.

In conclusion, a study of the historical origin of the term white suggests that:

• “White” is a political term. It was specifically created by colonial rulers to prevent oppressed people from different continents from uniting to confront their common oppressors.
• “White privilege” is a relational term. It is the other side of the coin of racial oppression. In the U.S. white supremacy system, they go together.
• White was originally a class term. The privileges of whiteness were first granted by the colonial ruling class only to the poor and servant class of Europeans. Colonial rulers did not need privilege. They had power.
• In a few generations, the institutional privileges for the white poor would wipe out the material basis for unity with oppressed Africans, as their daily lives grew further apart. (Bacon’s Rebellion was the last multi-racial revolt of the oppressed during the colonial era.)
• Colonial rulers used the existence of these privileges to convince poor white people that the little they had was due to their racial superiority, rather than to preferential treatment combined with hard work. The impact of white privilege on white people’s daily lives reinforced the ideology of white arrogance and “legitimized” their dehumanization of people of color.

In summary, the system of white privilege for non-ruling class whites reinforces the system of racial oppression against people of color. And the complementary systems of white privilege and racial oppression maintain the system of white power for ruling class whites.

How White Privilege has been Perpetuated in the U.S.

I believe that there are five major ways by which the system of white privilege has been perpetuated:

(1) The political economy of internal colonialism which laid the basis for the U.S. capitalist system;
(2) Three hundred years of affirmative action programs for white people, created by federal and state laws;
(3) Political demands of most white progressive movements (I call this The Strategy of the Slave Owners);
(4) Reproduction of white privilege in daily life: the treatment of white people because they are white, and the behavioral response of white people to this treatment;
(5) The culture of white supremacy.

Although this analysis of white privilege may seem a bit complex, spotting manifestations of white privilege is relatively easy. Just look for an instance of racial oppression, and ask yourself “Who benefits from this oppression?” You’ll probably see that a few white guys at the top get the lion’s share — because they have the power — and a whole lot of white men and women in the middle get a little piece of the action.

The Political Economy of Internal Colonialism

As Elizabeth Martínez discussed in her essay on “What is White Supremacy?” (Feb. 18 presentation), the United States as a nation-state was created out of stolen land, enslaved labor and war. The wealth created from the theft of indigenous land, the labor of African captives, and the war on Mexico made the European-American colonial owners a very wealthy class of people, and provided the capital that created capitalism in the U.S.

It also benefited the European American working and middle classes, both immigrant and U.S. born. To understand the economic relationship between the white working and middle classes of the U.S. and all the peoples of color whose oppression created the wealth of capitalism, it is helpful to look at African colonialism. There you have a system where all classes of European settlers make their money off the backs of the indigenous colonized. So even when a Black and white worker work in the same industry, their relationship within that industry is one of colonized and colonizer.

An example from my own family history might help make the point. My paternal grandparents migrated from Russia in the early 20th century. My grandfather worked in a New York sweat shop, a miserable job by any standards. But the economic reason why he and millions of his peers were able to get these jobs was because of the semi-slave labor of people of African descent in Southern plantations after the defeat of Reconstruction. Cotton was cheap because of the conditions under which African Americans labored, so there was a huge market for cotton goods, which created thousands of jobs for European immigrants, including my grandfather.

My mother’s father worked in a shoe factory. He worked under unsafe conditions, and eventually suffocated from asthma caused by leather dust. But at the turn of the century, the Massachusetts shoe industry was booming. The leather came from the South West on railroads built by Chinese and Mexican laborers. The cows were herded by Mexicano vaqueros who had been robbed of their historical lands after the Treaty of Guadelupe Hidalgo transformed half of Mexico into “Occupied America.” And so my maternal grandparents became the direct beneficiaries of the U.S. colonial war against Mexico, and the national oppression of Chicano people.

White mob violence guaranteed the white privileges from the economy of internal colonialism. In the 1840′s and 1850′s Irish working class immigrants pushed African Americans out of the skilled trades in New York City by burning down parts of the Black community while Irish police and fire fighters looked on. White homesteaders murdered indigenous warriors trying to protect their historical homelands, and slaughtered millions of their buffalo. Unemployed white workers burned down parts of San Francisco Chinatown in the 1880′s to drive Chinese workers out of the cigar-making and shoe industries. White squatters lynched Chicanos fighting to keep their ancestral lands in Occupied America.

I inherited this legacy. I am a white middle class woman, with enough educational and material resources to put on a free anti-racist training workshop in cyberspace. I am in this position because I am the beneficiary of the system of white privilege embedded in internal colonialism backed up by violence. I can run from it, but I can’t hide. It’s my history, a tiny part of the history of affirmative action for white people.

300 Years of Affirmative Action for White People

Some examples:

1663: In Virginia, English female indentured servants are no longer allowed to work in the fields; they can only work in their master’s house. African women still work in the fields.

1680 – 1705: Virginia “servant” codes specify that white servants can testify in court, get “freedom dues,” a plot of land, and the right to marry someone else who comes from Europe. (Racial intermarriage is banned.)

1790: The Naturalization Act, the first act of the first U.S. Congress, guarantees that white immigrants can become citizens, which leads the way for them to become owners of land. “Non-white” immigrants are denied the right to be citizens. (This provision was not changed until 1952.)

1830: The Indian Removal Act, initiated by President Andrew Jackson, removes the Choctaw, Creek, Cherokee, Chickasaw and Seminole Indians from the most fertile land in the South. White slave owners take over the land, use enslaved Africans to grow the cotton that creates the wealth for both Southern and Northern ruling and middle class whites. Cotton becomes the major export of the new nation.

1848: In the Treaty of Guadelupe Hidalgo, Mexico cedes half its national territory to the United States. Mexicans living north of the Rio Grande become U.S. citizens, but they no longer automatically own the land their families have tilled for centuries. Under U.S. law, the land goes to those with papers. Mexicans do not have papers. White lawyers “representing” Mexican land owners swindle millions of acres by taking land as their legal fees. Mexican-Americans become the first farm workers on lands their families once owned.

1862: During the height of the Civil War, U.S. soldiers are also waging war on indigenous nations in the West. Millions of acres of Native land are taken by blooodshed. This land is distributed to white people only. The Homestead Act makes 50 million acres available, at low cost, to white working class homesteaders. The Morrell Act creates land grant colleges to build a new white middle class. And 100 million acres of Indian land are given free to the railroads.

1880′s – 1914: Millions of Southern and Eastern European immigrants come to the U.S. They can bring their families, marry, travel to find work and eventually get citizenship. But during the same period, Chinese immigrants, except for merchants, are excluded from immigrating. Chinese workers are not allowed to bring their wives, nor to marry non-Chinese Americans, so they cannot create families.

1887: The Dawes Land Allotment Act forbids communal land ownership by indigenous people, and encourages Indians to sell their lands to whites. As a result, millions of acres go to white squatters.

1947 on: Under the G.I. Bill, the federal government authorizes the largest affirmative action program for white people in the nation’s history. Millions of returning veterans get preferential treatment in jobs, suburban home loans, and college education. But these federal programs do not challenge institutional racism in employment, housing or education, so almost all the benefits go to white men and their families.

1954ff: One of the most significant effects of Brown v. Board of Education is the firing of thousands of Black teachers and principals in southern Black schools, after these schools are integrated with white ones. School Boards say that white parents will not let their kids be taught by Black teachers. So the major beneficiaries of Brown v. Board of Education are the thousands of white (mostly female) teachers and white (mostly male) principals who got the jobs in these newly integrated schools.

1994: The passage of “Three Strikes You’re Out” in California leads to imprisonment for thousands of Black and Brown men while providing a major source of well paid jobs for mostly white working class men — as prison guards.

1996: The passage of Proposition 209 ends a brief interlude of 30 years of affirmative action for people of color. And California, which will be the first state in the nation to have a majority population of people of color, has led the way in returning to a 300 year tradition of affirmative action for white people.

The Strategy of the Slave Owners

The construction of institutional white privilege, which I call “The Strategy of the Slave Owners,” was a brilliant piece of politics. Created over 300 years ago, it still works beautifully today. It divides the oppressed, whether the oppression is based on class, gender or sexuality, so we can’t get it together. Virtually all politically progressive movements led by white activists after 1676 have recreated, consciously or unconsciously, the structures of white privilege.

In social movements led by people of color, white allies have historically supported demands of people of color for a short while, then gone back to their own issues. When whites break the coalitional power of the people, the only guarantor that racial reforms will be implemented and maintained, all progressive movements end up suffering the backlash. Here are a few examples:

• From 1789 to 1791, non-ruling class whites organized to include the Bill of Rights as the first Ten Amendments to the Constitution. But these amendments did nothing to protect the rights of African or indigenous peoples in the new nation-state. Nor has the Bill of Rights protected white activists who defy the state or corporate power. And only the rich have freedom of the press.
• In 1920, white women got the vote after 100 years of struggle. But they got it by promising Southern segregationists that they would use the vote to support white supremacy. Today, a divided women’s movement still lacks the power to enact mandatory maternity leave for all working parents, despite the fact that women are more than 50% of all voters.
• In 1935, militant workers won the legal right to be represented by unions. But, in order to get the National Labor Relations Act passed by Congress, they agreed to a compromise. The Act would exclude agricultural and domestic workers from its protections. Since these workers were mostly African American, Chicano, and Chinese, the new labor law essentially legalized unions for white male workers only. Today, an historically divided work force has not even been able to obtain a minimum wage above the poverty level.
• In 1973, abortion finally became legal in the U.S. But white middle class women, the main beneficiaries of Roe v. Wade, did not wield their organizing power to oppose the Hyde Amendment (which restricted abortions for women on welfare) or the sterilization of Puerto Rican and other poor women of color. So when the Right rolled back abortion rights in the 1980′s, there was no powerful multi-racial feminist movement to stop it. Today, 80% of U.S. counties are without abortion services.
• White environmentalists seldom challenge environmental pollution of communities of color or Indian reservations, even though most toxic dumping is done in these communities. Since toxics and cancer go hand in glove, is it any wonder that cancer is still a leading killer — of white people as well as people of color?

The legacy of ‘the strategy of the slave owners’ demonstrates that when oppressed whites protest against their own oppression, while refusing to simultaneously challenge racial oppression and white privilege, they can win short term victories (a union, legislative reform, a constitutional amendment, etc.) But when they organize in this way, they themselves become oppressors of people of color. Their silence is consent to racial oppression and white privilege.

And they sacrifice possibilities for building coalitions with activists of color which could challenge the power of the descendants of the slave owners — the power which oppresses all of us today.*

Some materials that have helped me understand white privilege

1. Robert Allen,
a. Reluctant Reformers: Racism and Social Reform Movements in the United States. Washington, DC: Howard University Press, 1983.
b. Black Awakening in Capitalist America. New Jersey: Africa World Press, 1989.

2. Theodore Allen,
a. “Class Struggle and the Origin of Racial Slavery: The Invention of the White Race,” Radical America. May-June, 1975, Vol. 9, Number 3.
b. The Invention of the White Race. Vol. 1 (1994) and Vol. 2 (1997). New York: Verso Press.

3. Tomás Almaguer, Racial Fault Lines: The Historical Origins of White Supremacy in California. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994.

4. Derrick Bell, Race, Racism and American Law. Second Edition. Boston: Little Brown and Company.

5. Robert Blauner, Racial Oppression in America. NY: Harper & Row, 1972.

6. Ward Churchill, Struggle for the Land: Indigenous Resistance to Genocide, Ecocide and Expropriation in Contemporary North America. Maine: Common Courage Press, 1993.

7. European Dissent, The Journey of European Dissent, the newsletter of European Dissent, a white anti-racist organization affiliated with The People’s Institute.

8. Paula Giddings, When and Where I Enter: The Impact of Black Women on Race and Sex in America. NY: Random House, 1984.

9. A. Leon Higginbotham, Jr. In the Matter of Color: Race & The American Legal Process: The Colonial Period. NY: Oxford University Press, 1980.

10. Elizabeth Martínez, 500 Years of Chicano History in Pictures. Albuquerque: South West Organizing Project, 1991.

11. Alfredo Mirandé, Gringo Justice. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1987.

12. Victor G. & Brett de Bary Nee, Longtime Californ’: A Documentary Study of an American Chinatown. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1972.

13. People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond, Undoing Racism Workshop and especially the work of white core trainers Diana Dunn and David Billings. (The People’s Institute is located at 1444 North Johnson Street, New Orleans, LA 70116. Phone is (504) 944-2354).

14. Mab Segrest, Memoir of a Race Traitor. Boston: South End Press, 1994.

15. Herbert Shapiro, White Violence and Black Response: From Reconstruction to Montgomery. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988.

DISCLAIMER: This is far, far FAR from being an exhaustive checklist. Sure, this is my opinion and mine only, but run it by your comrades of colour [I'm sure you've got tons of 'em] and chances are…

Anyhow. Moving on the to the main topic.

Tactic #1: Learn (and talk) as much as you can about issues affecting a few choice people of colour: Mumia is a good place to start. Quote Che Guevera if you can, and drop references to the Black Panthers in every other sentence. But, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE WHATSOEVER shall you:
- learn about the histories of local communities of colour;
- challenge racism in your activist group;
- work with local activists of colour who aren’t directly in your group. If you do, make sure that they’re invited into an already set activity, where you’ve already made all important decisions and arrangements. We can’t forget who’s boss!

Tactic #2: Tell me about your trip to Costa Rica / Ghana / Pakistan where you dug a well / taught English / started a revolution. Tell me how backwards the patriarchal system is there, how the cops there are just so undemocratic, and how astounded you were that the people just accepted this shit. Change the story if you went to Chiapas: those Zapatistas!!!

Tactic #3: Show me how much you appreciate my culture by sporting dreads and stitching patches of Angela Davis onto your clothes. Rebel against Christianity by learning “voodoo” [books will do], and better yet: explain to me exactly how alienated I am because I still keep my “slave name”. If the primitive pagan/animistic don’t do it for you, try Asian spirituality.

Tactic #4: Try doing this as often as possible (simulated conversation):
Me: “Hi, I’m Nadine.”
You: “Oh, I know you. We’ve already met.”
Me: “Uh, I don’t think so.”
You: “Yeah, we met at Josh’s place, at the potluck last week. He introduced us.”
Me: “I don’t know anyone named Josh, and I was in Haiti last week.” You: “Oh, I could have sworn it was you.”
You know why you could have sworn it was me? Cuz: we all still look alike to you. Admit it. At least to yourself, if not to me.

Tactic #5: Prove your own lack of racism by explaining how you were raised to believe everyone is equal and therefore you can’t be racist. Cement the argument by counting off the number of multicultural endeavours you’ve embarked on (including the “Reclaim the Streets” fair where people were invited to come in native garb).

Tactic #6: Be really surprised when I tell you I plan to leave Canada and live in a nice Third World country wracked with civil strife, violent crime and 75% rate of unemployment. Wonder why someone would want to leave this racist, capitalistic and consumerist holy land.

I’m kinda bitter. You might even call me a [gasp!] reverse racist. But lemme quote Lonnae O’Neal Parker: “I believe white folks would know if blacks were ever to really reverse racism.”

2a. Count how many times you speak and keep track of how long you speak.

2b. Count how many times other people speak and keep track of how long they speak.

3. Be conscious of how often you are actively listening to what other people are saying as opposed to just waiting your turn thinking about what you’ll say next. Keep a notebook so that you can write down your thoughts and then focus on what other people are saying. As a white guy who talks a lot, I’ve found it helpful to writing down my thoughts and wait to hear what others have to say (frequently others will be thinking something similar and then you can support their initiative).

4. Practice going to meetings or hanging out with people focused on listening and learning – not to get caught in the paralysis of whether or not you have anything useful to say, but acting from a place of valuing other people’s knowledge and experiences.

5a. Pay attention to how many times you put ideas out to the group you work with.

5b. Notice how often you support other people’s ideas for the group.

6. Practice supporting people by asking them to expand on ideas and get more in-depth.

7a. Think about whose work and what contributions to the group get recognized.

7b. Practice recognizing more people for the work they do and try to do it more often. This also includes men offering support to other men who aren’t recognized and actively challenging competitive dynamics that men are socialized to act out with each other.

8. Practice asking more people what they think about events, ideas, actions, strategy and vision. White guys tend to talk amongst themselves and develop strong bonds that manifest in organizing. These informal support structures often help reinforce informal leadership structures as well. Asking people what they think and really listening is a core ingredient to healthy group dynamics, think about who you ask and who you really listen to. Developing respect and solidarity across race, class, gender and sexuality is complex and difficult, but absolutely critical – and liberating. Those most negatively impacted by systems of oppression have and will play leading roles in the struggle for collective liberation.

9. Be aware of how often you ask people to do something as opposed to asking other people “what needs to be done”: logistics, child care, making phone calls, cooking, providing emotional support and following up with people are often undervalued responsibilities performed by people who are gender oppressed (biological women and trans folks).

10. Struggle with the saying, “you will be needed in the movement when you realize that you are not needed in the movement”.

11. Struggle with and work with the model of group leadership that says that the responsibility of leaders is to help develop more leaders, and think about what this means to you: how do you support others and what support do you need from others.

This includes men providing emotional and political support to other men. How can men work to be allies to each other in the struggle to develop radical models of anti-racist, class conscious, pro-queer, feminist manhood that challenges strict binary gender roles and categories. This is also about struggling to recognize leadership roles while also redefining leadership as actively working to build power with others rather than power over others.

12. Remember that social change is a process, and that our individual transformation and individual liberation is intimately interconnected with social transformation and social liberation. Life is profoundly complex and there are many contradictions. Remember that the path we travel is guided by love, dignity and respect – even when it brings us to tears and is difficult to navigate. As we struggle let us also love ourselves.

13. This list is not limited to white guys, nor is it intended to reduce all white guys into one category. This list is intended to disrupt patterns of domination which hurt our movement and hurt each other. White guys have a lot of work to do, but if we white guys support and challenge each other, while also building trust and compassion we can heal ourselves in the process.

14. Day-to-day patterns of domination are the glue that maintain systems of domination. The struggle against capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, heterosexism and the state, is also the struggle towards collective liberation.

15. No one is free until we are all free.

Thanks and love to my comrades in the Bay Area gender privileged men’s group of the Ruckus Society and the men’s group (biological and transgendered men) of the Challenging White Supremacy Collective.

For more reading check out:

On the Road to Healing: a booklet for men against sexism
pobox 84171 Seattle, Washington 98124 or email hidden; JavaScript is required

Patriarchy, a system that gives men privileges, results from a gendered socialization process in all areas of our lives – social, economic, ideological, cultural, political, and spiritual. According to bell hooks, “Patriarchy is political-social system that insists that males are inherently dominating, superior to everything and everyone deemed weak, especially females, and endowed with the right to dominate and rule over the weak and to maintain that dominance through various forms of psychological terrorism and violence.”

Examples of sexism in political organizing:

Despite its pervasive existence, sexism within social movements and organizations is seen as less important than sexism in wider society. Believing in equality does not mean that men no longer experience male privilege. Working with progressive men can have its own frustrations as male comrades feel they are not guilty of sexism – often because of the lack of intention to be sexist – without truly analyzing their actions within a framework of dominance.

· Men are more readily perceived as experts on ‘hard’ political issues such as war and economics. Women have to struggle a lot harder to prove their capabilities as activists, their intelligence and understanding on political issues, and face an uphill battle to be taken seriously as committed organizers, researchers, journalists and writers. In order to do this, women often have to adopt authoritative roles in order to be validated in political organizing.

· Feminism is still not seen as central to revolutionary struggle; instead it is relegated to a special-interest issue and is not considered a broader collective struggle. This results in the frequent trivialization of women’s issues – particularly violence against women and reproductive justice – as being secondary to “more important” political work.

· Most political organizations and meetings are still dominated by men, and even more dominated by male speakers. Some women are frequently tokenized by being asked to moderate or speak in public which – intentionally or not – invisiblizes the culture of male domination within the organization, especially as the gendered roles of secretarial work, clean up, and childcare still falls upon women.

· The emotional work of supporting one another and ensuring our personal well-being is perhaps one of the most pervasive hetero-patriarchal patterns that continues to persist in our movements. The spiritual nurturing of our communities is largely met by the tireless efforts of women, who are daily checking-in, cooking, planning birthdays, doing hospital visits, providing shoulders to cry on, and so much more.

· Women are more likely to challenge men on sexist comments rather than men challenging other men, and the general assumption is that women discussing sexism are “pulling the sex card” or are making false accusations which leaves women feeling guilty and/or unsafe in raising such issues. Unfortunately, women’s issues and concerns are generally belittled or invalidated, unless validated by other men. These two points highlight a general disrespect for women’s voices in discussing their own oppression.

· Women discussing sexism are often characterized as “divisive” or as “emotional and over-reactive”, so women often feel like they have to moderate what they say so that men don’t feel attacked. Many men are likely to shut down emotionally or get defensive when women want to discuss specific incidents of sexism instead of listening and understanding what is being said.

· Given the particular socialization of women under patriarchy, seemingly minor comments or incidents can make women feel humiliated, angry or upset; yet such comments are often dismissed as harmless or unintentional. It is rare that men will end friendships or alliances with other men over patriarchal and sexist patterns, compared to some other sectarian-political beef.

· Women continue to be sexually objectified in political circles. Women of colour and/or femmes in particular are fetishized, obscuring the dynamics of racism, fatphobia, ability, and hetero-patriarchy behind ‘personal preferences’.

Some Suggestions

Believing in equality does not mean that men no longer experience male privilege, nor does being better than “mainstream” society mean that men are absolved of taking responsibility for sexism and patriarchy. So some basic suggestions (this list is not exhaustive, just where I am at right now):

· Honour women’s work for the devalued tasks of community organizing and community building such as childcare, cooking, note-taking, and providing frequent emotional support. Share secretarial work, logistical work and clean-up work. Make childcare / eldercare and cooking not just the priority of your group or event, but your own personal political priority.

· If it is obvious that the same few men are dominating a discussion, the facilitator or others in the meeting should consider suggesting a go-around to get more people talking. If you are one of those men, be aware of the space you take up as well as the tone you use to make your points.

· Be mindful of the language being used and use inclusive language, for example saying ‘spokesperson’ instead of ‘spokesman’. Also, respect everyone’s self-identification and use preferred names and pronouns.

· Recruiting women into the organization is not necessarily the solution. The fact that an organization is male-dominated might merely be a symptom and not the problem itself. The path to ensuring the full and equal participation of women in a political organization can be difficult and the process may feel tokenistic if it does not give equal consideration to women’s opinions, issues, and wants in a meaningful manner.

· Realize that having an anti-sexist gender analysis doesn’t just mean having “more” womens representation and assimilation within Euro-centric and male-dominated social movements. Rather, it requires a fundamental transformation in our social movements to actively facilitate and centre women’s own analysis and experiences of capitalism and oppression, especially that of women of colour and Indigenous women who are actually the most directly impacted by the issues that we work on – occupation and militarization, theft of land and displacement, violence, slave-wage working conditions, poverty and lack of access to basic necessities such as health, housing, water, and food.

· Stop pitting women against each other, particularly those women who are more dominant and visible in the movement who *you* decide are more ‘smart’ or ‘badass’ or ‘interesting’ or ‘hot’ than others.

· Realize that just because you might not find somebody’s behaviour offensive, women might have different boundaries that have been shaped by a history of socialization under patriarchy. There is a difference between listening & respectful dialogue and invalidating or denying that an incident of gender oppression was experienced.

· The silence and denial of sexual violence and sexual harassment in activist communities is unacceptable. Be committed to accountability processes – don’t say you are too busy or have more important things to do. The tendency to blame survivors for the divisions and upheaval that may result from such processes is problematic. As allies, do empower survivors to regain and maintain control over accountability processes. Unless you have a better solution or are actively part of growing an alternative to deal with interpersonal gendered violence, definitely do not judge women who maybe forced to resort to the state apparatus. The only ones ‘hurting the struggle’ are those that want to deny or minimize the experiences, realities, and traumas of sexual violence.

· Create an atmosphere that is empowering, and open especially to new and/or young women. Share skills and knowledge in a non-paternalistic manner to build the leadership of women, especially women of colour.

· Realize that sexism, in various forms, runs deep and always plays itself out. Don’t trivialize women’s issues or place the sole responsibility for fighting oppression on the oppressed. Take sexism on as your struggle – become an active ally in the struggle to end violence against women, fundraise for women’s crisis centers, or organize events that support women’s (particularly poor/low-income and Indigenous women’s) liberation.

· Transforming gender roles and socialization is not about guilt or who is right or wrong. This “list” is just a start; women in the movement have such diverse experiences and contexts and there is no singular form of patriarchy. Really, the best suggestion I have is that if we are committed to building communities of resistance for the long-term, then we need to prioritize building relationships with one another, having hard conversations, and being willing to humble ourselves to a life-long process of learning to effectively fight oppression.

Harsha Walia wrote this piece originally in 2006. This piece is a really basic primer and so does tend to generalize across race, ability, class, queerness etc. Harsha is a South Asian organizer and writer based in Vancouver, Coast Salish Territories. She has been active in feminist, anti racist, migrant justice, anti authoritarian, and anti capitalist struggles for over a decade and is a firm supporter of Palestinian liberation as well as Indigenous self-determination across Turtle Island. You can find her at http://twitter.com/HarshaWalia/

As McIntosh points out, men also tend to be unaware of their own privileges as men. In the spirit of McIntosh’s essay, I thought I’d compile a list similar to McIntosh’s, focusing on the invisible privileges benefiting men.

Due to my own limitations, this list is unavoidably U.S. centric. I hope that writers from other cultures will create new lists, or modify this one, to reflect their own experiences.

Since I first compiled it, the list has been posted many times on internet discussion groups. Very helpfully, many people have suggested additions to the checklist. More commonly, of course, critics (usually, but not exclusively, male) have pointed out men have disadvantages too – being drafted into the army, being expected to suppress emotions, and so on. These are indeed bad things – but I never claimed that life for men is all ice cream sundaes.

Obviously, there are individual exceptions to most problems discussed on the list. The existence of individual exceptions does not mean that general problems are not a concern.

Pointing out that men are privileged in no way denies that bad things happen to men. Being privileged does not mean men are given everything in life for free; being privileged does not mean that men do not work hard, do not suffer. In many cases – from a boy being bullied in school, to a soldier dying in war – the sexist society that maintains male privilege also does great harm to boys and men.

In the end, however, it is men and not women who make the most money; men and not women who dominate the government and the corporate boards; men and not women who dominate virtually all of the most powerful positions of society. And it is women and not men who suffer the most from intimate violence and rape; who are the most likely to be poor; who are, on the whole, given the short end of patriarchy’s stick.

Several critics have also argued that the list somehow victimizes women. I disagree; pointing out problems is not the same as perpetuating them. It is not a “victimizing” position to acknowledge that injustice exists; on the contrary, without that acknowledgment it isn’t possible to fight injustice.

An internet acquaintance of mine once wrote, “The first big privilege which whites, males, people in upper economic classes, the able bodied, the straight (I think one or two of those will cover most of us) can work to alleviate is the privilege to be oblivious to privilege.” This checklist is, I hope, a step towards helping men to give up the “first big privilege.”

The Male Privilege Checklist

1. My odds of being hired for a job, when competing against female applicants, are probably skewed in my favor. The more prestigious the job, the larger the odds are skewed.

2. I can be confident that my co-workers won’t think I got my job because of my sex – even though that might be true. (More).

3. If I am never promoted, it’s not because of my sex.

4. If I fail in my job or career, I can feel sure this won’t be seen as a black mark against my entire sex’s capabilities.

5. I am far less likely to face sexual harassment at work than my female co-workers are. (More).

6. If I do the same task as a woman, and if the measurement is at all subjective, chances are people will think I did a better job.

7. If I’m a teen or adult, and if I can stay out of prison, my odds of being raped are relatively low. (More).

8. On average, I am taught to fear walking alone after dark in average public spaces much less than my female counterparts are.

9. If I choose not to have children, my masculinity will not be called into question.

10. If I have children but do not provide primary care for them, my masculinity will not be called into question.

11. If I have children and provide primary care for them, I’ll be praised for extraordinary parenting if I’m even marginally competent. (More).

12. If I have children and a career, no one will think I’m selfish for not staying at home.

13. If I seek political office, my relationship with my children, or who I hire to take care of them, will probably not be scrutinized by the press.

14. My elected representatives are mostly people of my own sex. The more prestigious and powerful the elected position, the more this is true.

15. When I ask to see “the person in charge,” odds are I will face a person of my own sex. The higher-up in the organization the person is, the surer I can be.

16. As a child, chances are I was encouraged to be more active and outgoing than my sisters. (More).

17. As a child, I could choose from an almost infinite variety of children’s media featuring positive, active, non-stereotyped heroes of my own sex. I never had to look for it; male protagonists were (and are) the default.

18. As a child, chances are I got more teacher attention than girls who raised their hands just as often. (More).

19. If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether or not it has sexist overtones.

20. I can turn on the television or glance at the front page of the newspaper and see people of my own sex widely represented, every day, without exception.

21. If I’m careless with my financial affairs it won’t be attributed to my sex.

22. If I’m careless with my driving it won’t be attributed to my sex.

23. I can speak in public to a large group without putting my sex on trial.

24. Even if I sleep with a lot of women, there is no chance that I will be seriously labeled a “slut,” nor is there any male counterpart to “slut-bashing.” (More).

25. I do not have to worry about the message my wardrobe sends about my sexual availability or my gender conformity. (More).

26. My clothing is typically less expensive and better-constructed than women’s clothing for the same social status. While I have fewer options, my clothes will probably fit better than a woman’s without tailoring. (More).

27. The grooming regimen expected of me is relatively cheap and consumes little time. (More).

28. If I buy a new car, chances are I’ll be offered a better price than a woman buying the same car. (More).

29. If I’m not conventionally attractive, the disadvantages are relatively small and easy to ignore.

30. I can be loud with no fear of being called a shrew. I can be aggressive with no fear of being called a bitch.

31. I can ask for legal protection from violence that happens mostly to men without being seen as a selfish special interest, since that kind of violence is called “crime” and is a general social concern. (Violence that happens mostly to women is usually called “domestic violence” or “acquaintance rape,” and is seen as a special interest issue.)

32. I can be confident that the ordinary language of day-to-day existence will always include my sex. “All men are created equal,” mailman, chairman, freshman, he.

33. My ability to make important decisions and my capability in general will never be questioned depending on what time of the month it is.

34. I will never be expected to change my name upon marriage or questioned if I don’t change my name.

35. The decision to hire me will never be based on assumptions about whether or not I might choose to have a family sometime soon.

36. Every major religion in the world is led primarily by people of my own sex. Even God, in most major religions, is pictured as male.

37. Most major religions argue that I should be the head of my household, while my wife and children should be subservient to me.

38. If I have a wife or live-in girlfriend, chances are we’ll divide up household chores so that she does most of the labor, and in particular the most repetitive and unrewarding tasks. (More).

39. If I have children with a wife or girlfriend, chances are she’ll do most of the childrearing, and in particular the most dirty, repetitive and unrewarding parts of childrearing.

40. If I have children with a wife or girlfriend, and it turns out that one of us needs to make career sacrifices to raise the kids, chances are we’ll both assume the career sacrificed should be hers.

41. Magazines, billboards, television, movies, pornography, and virtually all of media is filled with images of scantily-clad women intended to appeal to me sexually. Such images of men exist, but are rarer.

42. In general, I am under much less pressure to be thin than my female counterparts are. (More). If I am fat, I probably suffer fewer social and economic consequences for being fat than fat women do. (More).

43. If I am heterosexual, it’s incredibly unlikely that I’ll ever be beaten up by a spouse or lover. (More).

44. Complete strangers generally do not walk up to me on the street and tell me to “smile.” (More: 1 2).

45. On average, I am not interrupted by women as often as women are interrupted by men.

46. I have the privilege of being unaware of my male privilege.

(Compiled by Barry Deutsch, aka “Ampersand.” Permission is granted to reproduce this list in any way, for any purpose, so long as the acknowledgment of Peggy McIntosh’s work is not removed. If possible, I’d appreciate it if folks who use it would tell me how they used it; my email is barry-at-amptoons-dot-com.)

(This is a continually updated document; the most current version of The Male Privilege Checklist can always be found at amptoons.com/blog/the-male-privilege-checklist).