On #BringBackOurGirls, "Slacktivism," U.S. Militarism, and Anti-Black, Misogynistic Notions of Ownership

We need to talk about ownership and anti-Black misogyny in the global context of #BringBackOurGirls. Jumoke Balogun does an excellent job of explaining on her website, CompareAfrique, of explaining why actual U.S. military attempts to "bring back our girls" would result in oppression. For white Americans, her critique certainly holds true. Many white liberals are hashtagging, belatedly, to profess their xenophobia against Muslims under the guise of pretending to care about young black women.

Balogun's article did, however, bother me on two distinct counts. Firstly, it evokes the notion of "slacktivism" that was also pinned on #Kony2012 proponents—to me, the idea that the only real activism marches in the streets perpetuates disableism (not all of us can or should march) and classism (not all of us have the time or resources to march). Secondly, it takes up a frustrated tone that almost doesn't seem to believe the pain of #BringBackOurGirls activists.

Image description: Michelle Obama, making a disingenuous-looking pouty face (presumably it is not disingenuous on purpose—she's supposed to look sad, but she look posed), holding a sign that says #BringBackOurGirls. Considering she is functionally in the government, I have mixed feelings about this picture. But one thing is clear: it's a black girl thing.

This frustration is misplaced. #BringBackOurGirls, in my experience, is a womanist invention that, while legislatively bankrupt, is rooted in an American narrative about the kidnapping of black girls. Dori Maynard of the Journalism Center on Children and Familes writes in her article, Missing White Girl Syndrome: 

We've all heard of Amber alerts. But Rilya alerts? Probably not. ... [T]he news media ... cover[s] the murders and abductions of affluent or middle-class white girls far more than those of boys, poor kids and kids of color, especially African-Americans. An estimated 42 percent of missing children are black.

 #BringBackOurGirls was never a literal cry for U.S. military intervention. Especially considering the sexual and religious abuse of the kidnapped girls by Boko Haram, it reflected a unique black female trauma regarding society's apathy of our mistreatment. Historically, enslaved women have been religiously indoctrinated and raped—the U.S. government's inaction against Boko Haram reinforces, for us, the notion that our own government doesn't care about us or our bodies.

I do, however, understand where Balogun's frustration is coming from. #BringBackOurGirls has been coopted by white liberals and, to make matters worse, white liberals have no right to claim ownership over the kidnapped Nigerian girls. When Nigerians say #BringBackOurGirls, they claim a national connection. When Black American women say #BringBackOurGirls, we claim a racial and historical connection. When white people say #BringBackOurGirls, they just reinforce the colonialist notion of owning black female bodies once again. It's tired, and I understand why Jumoke Balogun is tired of it. Black American women are tired, too. 

A Glossary?

I have an ~idea~

So in light of the controversy over the asterisk (saying trans* as opposed to trans microaggresses nonbinary folks and trans women), and generally me scrambling to develop a non-oppressive vocabulary, I think it'd be nice if my blog had a gigantic glossary of social justice terminology.

I think the importance of language is lost on a lot of Millenials since we have a culture of hacktivism and generally misguided interpretation of the First Amendment, making us super-sensitive to censorship. We seem to think that being told certain words are not okay to use, or that some words are better to use than others, means that we're being somehow censored, when really we're just being encouraged to be considerate of varied identities. I also think people just don't know what words to use, and campaigns like Find Another Word don't always provide alternatives to slurs that sound "cool" and pop-culture-relevant.

A short aside: in case you're not up on this, a non-governmental body, such as myself, does not have the power to censor. Obviously, I know censorship is still bad in some cases where it's not a constitutional issue. If I delete your comments on my Facebook page, for any reason other than hate speech/threats/etc., I am censoring them unnecessarily. This doesn't lead to any kind of slippery slope because I'm not that powerful societally, but it does kind of spoil our dialogue. That being said, my simply disagreeing with an argument, or reaffirming that an opinion is unpopular, does not constitute censorship, governmental or non-governmental. Feeling afraid to express conservative views in a liberal environment, for example, does not mean you're being censored, it just means you feel intimidated. Facing the consequences of your actions when you oppress a peer does not mean you're being censored, it just means you live in the real world. In short, you have the right to express your opinion, and I have the right to express that I disagree with your opinion (that's called my opinion).

Basically, I want to give us all the tools to use the English language in an empowering way (I also speak French, but one step at a time). How nice would it be if you never had to feel guilty about having an oppressive vocabulary?

I googled "social justice glossary" "social justice vocab" etc., and there doesn't seem to be any particular source that compiles terminology in an evolving way that maintains a continued dialogue with its audience.

So yeah. It'll be a page (just like my About Page), and Imma start it. Maybe someday I'll turn it into a wiki or something. How cool would that be‽

P.S. Literally in the last two seconds I learned that "disablism" is a preferable term to "ableism" (for the same reason "disabled" or "with a disability" is better than "differently able")—I have work to do!

P.P.S. Check my interrobang swag‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽