a l'allure garconniere

readnfight:

by Rowland Túpac Keshena

For those who don’t know much about me, I am a currently studying for a Masters Degree in Public Issues Anthropology, specializing in a Fanon and MLM infused analysis of revolutionary Native nationalist and anti-colonialist movements in North Amerika. I also have really strong interrelated interests in revolutionary critical pedagogy, the “reindigenization” of the Chicano community and movement and, the subject of this post, indigenous feminism. Anyway, one of the perks of my program is that I can create my own courses, and I’ve taken such a route this semester by creating my own directed studies course in indigenous feminist theory.

The growth of indigenous feminism is, for me, a huge interest, both personal and academic, not just because of the obvious importance struggling against both white supremacist (ne0)colonial capitalism and hetero-patriarchy if we want to achieve meaningful freedom, justice and equality, but also because for a long time the status quo within our movement was that you could not be both a feminist and a native warrior. On the one hand we are not Native enough if we call ourselves and our movement feminist, but on the other we are not feminist enough for the whitestream feminists since we pointing out that the whitestream movement does not take us, and our unique experiences and struggles into account. I am indigenous man and I find this to be one of the greatest failings of our movement, and for that reason I wholeheartedly endorse, support and promote the rise of an indigenous feminism.

Anyway, with that in mind and in the spirit of sharing ideas, and radical education I’ve decided to post my reading list for others to take a look a lot, critique and/or otherwise contribute their thoughts. It’s made up of a mix of books and articles, both academic and non-academic, which are available on line.

Books:

Making Space for Indigenous Feminism, edited by Joyce Green

I Am Woman: A Native Perspective on Sociology and Feminism, by Lee Maracle

From a Native Daughter: Colonialism and Sovereignty in Hawaii, by Haunani-Kay Trask

Conquest: Sexual Violence and American Indian Genocide, by Andrea Smith

Talkin’ Up to the White Woman: Indigenous Women and Feminism, by Eileen Morton-Robinson

Online Articles:

Indigenous Feminism Without Apology, by Andrea Smith

Jennifer Nez Denetdale on Indigenous Feminisms

An Indigenous Perspective on Feminism, Militarism, and the Environment, by Winona LaDuke

Zapatismo and the Emergence of Indigenous Feminism, by Aida Hernandez Castillo

Academic Journal Publications:

Wicazo Sa Review “Native Feminisms: Legacies, Interventions, and Indigenous Sovereignties,” guest edited by Mishuana R. Goeman and Jennifer Nez Denetdale

Whiteness Matters: Implications of Talking Up to the White Woman, by Eileen Morton-Robinson

Race, Tribal Nation, and Gender: A Native Feminist Approach to Belonging, by Renya Ramirez

Introduction: Special Issue on Native American Women, Feminism, and Indigenism, by Anne Waters

Patriarchal Colonialism and Indigenism: Implications for Native Feminist Spirituality and Native Womanism, by M. A. Jaimes Guerrero

Dismantling the Master’s Tools with the Master’s House: Native Feminist Liberation Theologies, by Andrea Smith

oh my gods yes. This reading list is amazing.

forestfirecity:

fywomenshistory:

dr-grumbles:

fywomenshistory:

feministilicious:

Fourth wave feminism is a LOT about us internet bloggers. The grrrl virus. Sex positivity. Body acceptance and self love. But above all, inclusion. The feminists of the fourth wave are working to…

Is the fourth wave really just this? The internet?

Seems like a pretty limited, exclusive ‘wave’ in the grand scheme of things.

This is actually the first time I’ve ever heard people suggest that there is a fourth wave and I’m in Women’s Studies…

The number of people with access to the internet and the leisure time to read and write blog posts is pretty limited, really. Online activism and writing is important, but there’s a hell of a lot to be done offline, not to mention a lot happening offline.. let’s not forget about how very important that is.

yeah… i feel your concerns, holly. i didn’t even think we had finished debating whether the “third wave” even exists. i don’t know how i feel about this. some ideas:

click the link to read more, but there is much about this gets my goat, mainly stemming around a bit of ignorance of privilege. the idea of the internet defining an entire wave of feminism is moving away from feminism(s)’s roots; suffragettes parading in the street for the right to vote, people fighting for legal and safe access to abortions, native women fighting for sovereignty and legal rights under foreign oppressive governements, fighting racism within and outside of the women’s movement, direct action like the lavender menace storming NOW meetings, taking back the night, and so on and so forth. not to mention, what about le tigre’s “third wave” calls to get off the internet?

as for the argument that the internet facilitates “body acceptance” and self love, that in and of itself almost comes off as ableist, not to mention transphobic, but it’s pretty great that, yes, people online have been talking about that. this is mainly to say that to me, the internet can be a great addition to other forms of activism; in and of itself, the internet feminist blogosphere is not a movement and has not created these. most of my introduction to disability justice, the fat acceptance movement and general ideas around self love happened over tea, in thrift stores, in shitty work environments. it happened in my friends bedrooms, after watching a triggering movie, after being assigned a fucked up book by an uncritical prof. the internet can further those conversations, and encourage them… but it’s not the same as face to face interaction. meeting fat girls who called themselves fat, meeting people who identified as disabled and called me out on my learned ableism, meeting people who talked openly about sex and didn’t slut shame, meeting people who asked me if i was queer did so much more for my sense of self and understanding of my own identity than reading blog posts ever has (and i say this as someone who has been writing online for nearly ten years). just because there are a lot of resources online now for young feminists doesn’t mean they’re all going to find them and use them, and doesn’t deny peoples lived experiences offline.

for many of us, the internet is a place to process what we experience in our day to day lives, to find solidarity and support. for others, it is a place to learn. but taking into consideration who can access the internet, and how, and how much time they can spend engaging with the incredible amounts of information posted online… it just ends up sounding exclusionary and reductive.

also i’ve been having a lot of conversations with friends who want to read what i publish online and say “print it out and mail it to me!” since they have limited access to internet or just don’t spend time on it at all. this is for a variety of reasons: they don’t go online, they can’t afford/don’t want/don’t have a computer, a lot of the internet is very inaccessible in its creation of content, they live in remote areas around the world, they don’t have hours of free time to sift through the vast amounts of information that are published online on a daily basis, they have repetitive stress syndrome, etc.

these days, i’ve been thinking a lot about the value of print, and as a writer i am grateful for the platforms that the internet provides me with. but it is not the same as making a zine, or publishing a book, or putting pen to paper and writing letters. it is not the same as conversations that take place in bedrooms, in coffee houses, in classrooms. i love reading comments on things i’ve written, i love publishing content online and getting immediate reaction… but i don’t have any delusions about it being this miraculously accessible universal magical land. (it is also free, and writers are less likely to be paid of their time and work. that’s a whole other can of worms, to just expect all this online feminist activism free of cost.)

sooooo that’s pretty much what i think about that.

links:

stop telling people to love their bodies

Laurence Berg, Canada Research Chair for Human Rights, Diversity and Identity, disagrees with the idea that PC language and policies are oppressive. Why? Because he doesn’t really believe that PC policies existed in the first place.

“What [they]’re calling the ‘PC movement’ I would call a social movement by marginalised people and the people who support them,” he said. “[A movement] to use language that’s more correct—not ‘politically correct’—that more accurately represents reality.”

Berg is referring to a way of thinking that many of us students were too young to catch the first time around. For us, the term ‘politically correct’ survived the 90s, but the term ‘human rights backlash’ did not. Will Hutton, former editor-in-chief for the UK publication the Observer, described in his column how the term ‘PC’ was never really a political stance at all, contrary to popular belief. It was actually perceived by many as a right-wing tactic to dismiss—or backlash against—left-leaning social change. Mock the trivial aspects of human rights politics, like its changing language, and you’ll succeed in obscuring the issue altogether.

 Berg believes this is what political correctness is all about: “The term politically correct is a reactionary term,” he said. “[It was] created by people who were worried by [social] changes…that affected their everyday understanding of the world in ways that pointed out their role in creating or reproducing dominance and subordination.”

According to Berg, the indignation people feel against PC ideas reflects the discomfort we feel when language and politics begin to pull away from the dominant values we grew up with—in other words, white, middle-class values. It’s no small coincidence that the concept of political correctness originated in the 80s and 90s, just after human rights concerns and visible minority groups started getting real attention in politics and the media.

Berg explains that in its original context, PC was a pejorative term used by people who felt they were losing something. Exactly what they were losing is very hard to describe, especially to them. But many sociologists and historians today have come to a consensus on what they call it: it’s a loss of privilege—and in terms of race, a loss of white privilege.

UGH YES. this is something that has been really irritating me these days.