I noticed this description of three people in a book I'm reading: "I overheard a conversation between two dark-suited, middle-aged ministers and a young African American woman..."
I know that the mention of suits implies the ministers were male, but this description immediately bothered me because it demonstrated how the white male is the norm, while anyone who is not a white male requires a qualifier. This happens all the time - if a writer describes a person but does not include the person's race or gender, we as readers are to assume that person is a white male. These kinds of implied, assumed references constantly remind non-white and non-males that they are the "other."
Due to the fact that U.S. American, middle-class, white males tend to dominate discourse and our society in general, I make an effort to point to the "other." I try to avoid considering myself a "voice for the voiceless," because that notion, while well-intentioned, can be problematic. I don't claim to speak for those who allegedly cannot speak, nor would I ever want to.
photo © 2009 Rupert Ganzer | more info (via: Wylio)
But I do make a conscious effort to ensure that my little corner of the web does not exclusively interact with ideas by the majority. This is why, although straight, I try to add my voice to the chorus of those in favor of compassion and acceptance of the LBGTQ community. This is why, although white, I try to focus on the global church and minorities within the U.S.
Efrem Smith has another excellent post up, this time discussing the phenomenon of black leaders being "relegated" to black communities only. I put the word relegated in quotes because it implies that leading a black community is an inferior duty. Smith's point is that, often, a black CEO, college president, pastor, or principal leads predominantly black institutions. Thankfully, however, with the election of Obama, we may be seeing a reversal of this trend.
Smith's post reminded me that this phenomenon occurs in other contexts. Many feminist scholars are women. Many Latino studies professors are Latino. I know of too few gay rights activists who are straight.
I wonder what would happen if those in dominant, majority positions "specialize" or lend some of their space to those who are marginalized? I wonder what would happen if those whose existence is the norm, who don't need writers to qualify their race and gender, would devote their thesis or career to the "other," who are constantly burdened with adjectives?
Comments