Some people grow disenchanted with student activism due to the way oppression and privilege may be replicated in these spaces. Whiteness and white privilege permeate all aspects of our society, and activist spaces, even anti-racism ones, are no exception. There are some white people who think they can explain racism better than the people who are victims of it, and who speak over BME people in the process. It’s not always conscious: sometimes, the mere presence of white people in these spaces can see BME people code-switch, and even stay silent out of concern for white people’s feelings. The white privilege may manifest in very subtle ways, or it may show itself more overtly. Either way, white privilege is pervasive, and working actively to decentre whiteness in activism is an ongoing battle.
So much of these spaces are co-opted by white people. – Arenike
Feminist societies can be quite a good example of this. Most of the feminist society events that I went to at Jesus College did a good job of ensuring that the discussion was intersectional and aware of the extent to which other axes of identity (for example, race) might affect your experience of your gender and other systems of oppression. However, many black feminists have struggled when they have attempted to have painful, radical and necessary discussions about white feminism and the extent to which race is so often excluded from these discussions. Fope was the president of the Feminist Society at Newcastle University. Their attempts to dismantle racism within feminist spaces got them into more trouble than they deserved:
I did workshops, like ‘How to be an Ally’ or like, ‘Your Fave’s a Racist’. I did one called ‘The Suffragettes Were Racists, Sorry’ – something like that. I did ‘Jesus Wasn’t White and Other White Lies’ and stuff that clearly was meant to be provocative. And then I was reported to welfare [services] … I had a [Facebook] cover photo that said ‘black pussy supremacy’. Someone reported me to welfare for that. – Fope
Although there were no serious repercussions for their actions, Fope told me how much of a toll it took on their mental health. Someone, somewhere felt threatened by their attempts to decentre white people in these discussions, even in feminist spaces where black women and non-binary people should expect a degree of safety.
Try and convince your friends, especially the white and male friends, who may have relative privilege in these spaces to make efforts to decentre themselves, and to use their white privilege to uplift you, not silence you. They may call themselves allies, and while their presence can be helpful and is often necessary, being an ally isn’t about hijacking our voices or taking over our spaces.
But it’s also more than standing by and holding our hands.
They don’t understand that allyship is a doing word. You can’t just call yourself an ally and like, that’s the end of it. It’s constantly unlearning problematic behaviours and a lot of them just don’t have the time or range for it. – Fope
Allyship requires you to have difficult conversations and call out racism in the communities we can’t reach – in your own households, for example. It means educating people in your everyday life and finding ways to relieve our burden. It also requires understanding that sometimes we invite you into our spaces to listen, not to speak over us or for us.
Budding activists: white people may feel threatened by your radicalism. When you highlight their complicity in racist structures, they may close off (or cry), but if they’re going to try and be allies to the cause and support you in your fight without themselves taking up space, then they have some work to do too.