Like my atheism, this question gets
asked about once a week. Just like my atheism, the story is long and
not very interesting. Folks expect my story to be a short list of
epiphanies after several tragic tales. Although my life is full of
adventure, when it comes to my politics and lack of belief in a
higher power, it's not exciting at all.
The first thing I would like to say is
that I am like most men raised in the United States: I was raised as
a sexist. Couple that with being bought up as a strict Roman Catholic
in a Dominican home and I was the probably the worst. While I
wouldn't lay a fist on a woman, I would hurl all kinds of insults. If
you told me there was such a thing as rape culture, I would have
laughed at you. I believed that women of color actually had more
advantages then men of color did in the workplace. I also felt that
if you were rocking pun pun shorts, you were ripe for fondling. I
know I make light of where I was back then which wasn't so long ago.
My point is that we encounter folks who think feminism is the cause
of every ill in our community. I was one of those guys. And if I can
see the "light," I am sure others can as well.
I was living in Virginia Beach,
Virginia after getting out of the Navy. It was 1997 and I had two
roommates. My first roommate had a nice bookshelf. On her bookshelf,
she had several books written by Dr. bell hooks. I never paid it any
mind. She and I always discussed our love of books and she always
recommended Dr. hooks material. I flatly refused. Being a long
standing member of the so-called conscious community, we found women
like Dr. hooks to be colluding with the enemy (re: white people). I
had a young woman in my Zulu Nation Chapter who was also a feminist.
While we got along great, she and I consistently had intense debates
about feminism. Of course, I ignored her arguments all the time.
One day, my roommate had finished
reading "When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost" by Joan
Morgan. I was familiar with Morgan's writing on hip hop culture. I
never actually saw a picture of her (this was before the internets
folks, so bear with me). She looked gorgeous on the cover so I picked
it up. I expected tales of bra burning and male bashing after a date
gone wrong. I was wrong. While I learned so much from reading
Morgan's book, I found that she was the exception to the rule when it
came to my view of feminists. Morgan was "my kind of feminist."
I finally settled down and began to
have more children. While my daughter was born, my only sister began
to attend college. This is where I really began to rethink my
position. I noticed that people were already imposing sexist ideas on
my daughter. I did it, too. She would play with dolls, right? I have
to get her "girlie" stuff and she should wear pink.
Understand, that my daughter was my road dog. She was gonna dig what
I dug. It was her early years that really began to make me see
through the clouds. My daughter was going through the rough and
tumble at her college. We talked often on the phone. She dated a gang
of schmucks who were usually very religious and conservative.
Although I was not yet even agnostic, I still found the church to be
subtly oppressive to women in general. So my sister's dating life in
college, which was actually the first time I was able to get a chance
at a woman's view of dating at all in my entire life, helped shaped
my feminist views.
This was around 2001. While I had all
of these ideas in my head, I didn't have the terms to coin them.
Around 2003, I read Kevin Powell's "Who's Gonna Take the
Weight." To this day, I think any brother should read this book.
It was short and to the point. Throughout this book, he mentioned Dr.
hooks several times. To be honest, I never heard another man admit
that he read Dr. hooks. I love the work that Powell was doing and
decided to give Dr. hooks a try. So I picked up "Sisters of the
Yam" and I was hooked. In 2003, I began attending Old Dominion
University and actually met some bonafide feminists. The crazy part?
They made me feel so comfortable. They were actually cool. What I
learned is that patriarchy actually teaches us that feminists are
these "feminazi's." That feminists hate men and want to
eradicate us. This is far from true. These sister homies always
looked out for me and treated me as a long lost brother. I miss our
conversations.
It wasn't until we moved from Virginia
to Ohio in 2007, where I heard the term "Black Male Feminist."
I heard Mark Anthony Neal first use that term. Before this point, I
couldn't reconcile being a pan Africanist with feminism. This term
really helped me overcome that hurdle. I was consistently bombarded
with the idea that feminism was detrimental to the black family. That
was probably the last myth I had to destroy.
It's 2013 and by no means am I perfect.
I still hold some sexist views and at times find myself "back
sliding." It's not easy but it is easier for a man to embrace
feminism then it is for a woman on any given day. Unfortunately due
to male privilege, men are more apt to listen to my views and are
less likely to push back in a threatening manner. And yes, I was that
dude who would push back in a threatening manner when a feminist was
in the room.
Yes, it is true. Feminism has made me a
better husband, father, and community organizer. It has made me a
better instructor. It has made me a better brother all around. I am
thankful to be considered an ally and work everyday to recognize my
privilege. While there are few black male feminists I encounter,
there are more and more of us popping up.
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