Does My Depression Affect My Activism?

Sometimes people argue with me about my activist work and my constant talk about social justice and equity. I'm pretty terrible at laying out a persuasive, logical argument (so much for being an English major) specifically around social justice issues because I get so emotional. In my mind, it completely baffles and deeply saddens me that power differentials exist and that people have lived and continue to live with the detriments and real effects of this oppression. In my mind, it is completely ludicrous (I've been spelling this as "Ludacris" up until about a week ago - again, so much for being an English major) that anyone would argue against this, that anyone would argue against my work which is simply to increase empathy and equity for those who have suffered a long, systemic, institutionalized history of oppression, marginalization, and violence.

So how do I explain to others how I am able to step back, check my privilege, not react in anger or denial, and then try my hardest to love, empathize with, and advocate for others who are less privileged than myself?

Here's a list of things I came up with that helped guide me to the path of activism:

• Education - being exposed to different people, lives, experiences, etc. in college; getting involved in organizations that served and empowered marginalized groups
• Reading - through literature I learned about different life experiences and histories that mainstream education and textbooks don't teach 
• Love - possessing a genuine love and empathy for other human beings helps with activist work 
• Depression???

Wait, what?

I try to be hyper-aware of the impact my depression has on the lives around me and on those I love. I try to mitigate this impact as much as possible by being self-reliant, seeking professional help, and healing myself. So naturally, with such awareness, my depression came up in my meditation on what affects my activism. My depression probably affects everything in my life, but here are the ways I believe my depression may be impacting my activism: 

1. I value others over myself 

This may be blatant and perhaps triggering, but for the sake of being honest, I will admit that I often value others' lives over myself. My depression makes me think I'm a piece of crap and won't amount to much in life. Everyone else is more worthy of empathy, empowerment, and justice than me. With this mindset, of course I'm able to set aside my privilege and advocate for others. I sure as hell don't want to advocate for myself. I wonder why everyone else can't do the same? Just recklessly disregard yourself in order to promote and empower others; it's easy.

So how can we mitigate this? 

Activists with mental illnesses, especially depression, must work to realize that they are valuable assets in the fight for social justice. By valuing ourselves less we are valuing our activism, our empathy, and our power to do good less. It is painfully difficult, but we must start viewing ourselves as worthy, capable, and critical members of the social justice movement. 

2. I focus on the negative impacts of oppression 

I often find that when I'm engaged in activism through writing, conversation, etc. I focus a lot on the horrific long history of oppression and violence that many peoples have faced. I focus on their continued oppression by these systems. I focus on the terrible detriments that racism, homophobia, transphobia, colonialism, etc. can have on an individual and groups of people. Again, with this mindset, how can't I or anyone else help but get involved and advocate for others?

So how can we mitigate this? 

Activism is just as much about fighting social injustices and promoting equity as it is celebrating and empowering marginalized peoples. Marginalized peoples have been surviving, creating, learning, leading, building, and innovating for all of history. We must not ignore this. We must tell the stories of success, of love, of skill, of overcoming obstacles of oppression that mainstream history tries to erase. 

3. My depression compounds my white privilege 

As a white individual, I have the privilege of checking out of conversations about and fights against racism, colonialism, islamophobia, etc. I can take a day off; these systems don't affect my life. I can choose to pass on certain issues because I'm tired and I participated in the last one. This laziness and apathy are compounded by my depression. With my depression sometimes I'm hardly able to get out of bed to shower or do laundry or eat let alone participate in social justice movements and activist issues on a daily basis.

So how can we mitigate this? 

Self care helps! Yes, self care doesn't cure depression or any other mental illness but it may help you feel a little better and more ready to get out there and fight. By healthily addressing your depression, showing yourself compassion, and developing safe and healthy habits, you can be a better person and a better activist. Self care won't get rid of your mental illness, but it may help mitigate some of the symptoms. Develop a community of activists with mental illnesses to connect with for support and best practices.

Also, as a person with certain privileges, challenge yourself! We have a responsibility to empower marginalized peoples and to use our privilege to create a more equitable and just world. Yes, it is difficult, frustrating, and heartbreaking at times, and it can be compounded by mental illness (especially depression), but the world and people facing life-threatening oppression need you. If it helps, make tangible goals for each day. If you're feeling like your mental illness won't allow much for the day, make small goals - write a Senator, post an article, make a small donation. Just keep the momentum going.

All this being said, I don't place any blame on activists with mental illnesses. I personally know the struggle of mental illness getting in the way of or hindering your activism. It can be frustrating and disheartening. But your work is critical and so are you. You are necessary and valued in the movement for social justice and any effort you make, even on your bad days, is beneficial and has an effect.

Why You Are Not "My Sisters"

As I prepare to join the National Women's March on Washington, I'm reminded by fellow activists that we as white women have failed other women. We have failed women of color, trans women, queer women, Muslim women, undocumented women, Native women, and others. It is our long history of comfortable activism that has aided in perpetuating systems of oppression. We march when the marches are national, we post on social media when there is a hashtag, we share articles on Facebook, we wear shirts when they are trendy. But what we NEED is to be more active, more sustainable, more radical, and more intersectional.

In thinking about ways to make my activism more intersectional and of better use to other more marginalized women, I started to develop a rhetoric of inclusion and unity which started to become a rhetoric of homogeny, erasure, ownership, and white supremacy.

I started to think of women as a whole. I thought about "my sisters" and "our sisters" and how to use those phrases to motivate other white women to reevaluate and strengthen their activism and feminism through more intersectional methods. After all, we're all women. We bond over periods, motherhood, breasts, sexual violence, sexism, right? White women should all feel an innate bond and connection to other women because of these things, right? We're SISTERS, right?

WRONG. You are not "my sister" and this rhetoric used by white women is toxic, racist, and erasing.

First off, you are not "mine." This rhetoric implies ownership which is quite honestly disgusting and a perpetuation of white supremacy and colonialism. I think white women use this rhetoric to motivate each other into activism but it's actually doing more harm than good. We want to claim some sort of involvement and responsibility to the feminism and social justice movement but we cannot do so by claiming ownership over other women and their lives.

Secondly, you are not a "sister." I don't know anything about your life experiences as they are influenced by racism, homophobia, transphobia, colonialism, islamophobia, ableism, slut shaming, fat shaming, etc. I cannot claim some shallow bond of "sisterhood" in order to include myself in your fight for social justice and the dismantling of oppression. If we were truly sisters I would not have abandoned you in times of need. I would not be a come-and-go activist. I would not have the option to take a break from activism and pick and choose what I want to be involved in.

As white women we need to find a better way to involve ourselves in social justice movements. We have failed a lot of other women for centuries. They have fought and thrived without our help but we still have a duty and responsibility to humankind to fight for equity, social justice, and the dismantling of systems of oppression. To do so, we must reevaluate our methods to include and empower marginalized women. We must reevaluate our rhetoric and how we effectively get other white women involved in social justice issues.

As a white woman, I vow to the following:

• To actively seek out activist tactics and methods that are intersectional and empower marginalized women 
• To LISTEN to other women and act on their advice for social justice matters 
• I will admit to and apologize for the failures I, and my race, have made 
• I will not pick and choose what social justice issues I fight for; I will not "pass" on certain issues because I am tired or am not personally affected by them 
• To view other women as autonomous human beings with immense strength, capabilities, and knowledge 

Don't Be A Jackass, Check Your White Privilege

With everything going on in Ferguson and New York, everyone and their mother's dog groomer's uncle have hopped on social media to voice their opinion. And I am 100% down for that; express yo self. I'm even willing and glad to read opinions that are vastly different than mine. Even though they are infuriating and make me want to move to Mars, I am able to be made aware of opposing view points because of social media.

But I would regret it to my death bed if I didn't use social media and my voice to stand up for what I believe in and attempt to educate others who might not have had the same privilege of an education as me. 

Oooo "privilege", what a word. But what does it mean, Bailey? I shall explain, because as far as I've seen, too many people that I know are completely unaware and ignorant of their privilege and this leads them to voice uneducated opinions and have harmful, oppressive beliefs and I am starting to bald from the stress of knowing these people exist get me a Xanax now. 

So I will attempt to explain white privilege in the most basic, accessible way that I can.

Privilege: a set of advantages, or lack of disadvantages, that a group enjoys usually without realizing or being aware that they have them.

Here are some examples (note: there's like 87 zillion more) if you are so unaware that you don't bother to analyze and critique the way you get to live in society simply for the group/class you were born into:

Male privilege: Do you feel relatively safe walking alone at night regardless of what you're wearing or how intoxicated you are? If yes, congrats you've got male privilege!
Cis gender privilege: Has anyone ever used the wrong gender pronouns on accident or on purpose as an attempt to hurtfully misgender you? If no, congrats you've got cis gender privilege!
Heterosexual privilege: Can you openly display PDA with your partner in public and not worry about your safety or being harassed or being told you're going to hell? If yes, congrats, you've got heterosexual privilege!
Wealth/class privilege: Did you grow up automatically assuming, and being told by your parents, that you would go to college? If yes, congrats, you've got class privilege!
Able-body privilege: Can you perform daily tasks on your own with ease and little pain? If yes, congrats, you've got able-body privilege!
Neurotypical/allistic privilege: Can you have a sad/off day and not worry about people telling you that it's all in your head and you should just *snap out of it*. If yes, congrats, you've got neurotypical privilege!

AND NOW, we shall address white privilege so my fellow pasty friends can stop being absolutely blind to the safety and opportunities that they enjoy simply because of their pallid mayo skin and the extreme danger, oppression, and disadvantages that people of color suffer from.

There's this hella rad feminist and anti-racism activist Peggy McIntosh that wrote an essay called "White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Backpack". I pulled some of my examples from that. It would behoove you to read it yourself if you still aren't catching my drift here.

Here's my list of privileges that *I've recognized in my own life* due to my race. White males have an additional set of privileges that I as a female cannot comment on.

1. I have never once in my life feared police brutality or unfair treatment by the justice system because of my race. Yeah, when I see a cop I double check my lights, my seat belt, turn my music down, and pray to god that my break lights are working because cops make me nervous on the account that I don't want to get a ticket. BUT I've NEVER feared that I'd get pulled over, stopped, or harassed because I "looked suspicious" and I'd never fear that any punishment I received would be extreme or unfair because of someone else's prejudice.

2. I've never been told that I am "pretty for a white girl". I don't have to worry that my race makes me less beautiful or doesn't meet Euro-centric standards. I can wear my hair naturally and not have anyone call me "ghetto" because of it. I get to see a plethora of gorgeous white women in the media and be validated that I am beautiful because I have something in common with those women - my race. If I was a total asshole, I could also appropriate parts of black female beauty culture and I'd be considered ~* quirky and fun *~ instead of trashy or hood.

3. I've never been told that I speak "like a white person" or that I'm articulate for my race. I don't have to worry that my dialect of English will be considered less intelligent or identify me as a criminal. I also don't have to worry that my children will be made fun of and corrected in school because of their dialect. Also, I'll have all my alfredo sauce lookin' friends know that AAVE is NOT standard English with mistakes. It is not any less valid or understandable than what you call (and really should stop) "standard English". I took a linguistics class this quarter, get at me.

4. I've never felt uncomfortable in an airport because of my race. I've never been singled out in security checks. I've never had people move seats away from me on a plane. I don't have to worry that if one white person commits an act of violence that others will label my entire race as terrorists.

5. I've never seen people of other races throwing parties with themes that belittle my special cultural traditions or holidays. No one has every reduced a cultural event that is important to me without knowing any of its importance, meaning, or symbolism, down to fake mustaches, face paint, and pinatas.

6. When I got into college and got a job, I never doubted why I was accepted. I assumed it was because I was qualified and not because of my race. I also never have other people telling me that I got a job because of my race. Also, as a college student, I've never had anyone ask me what sport I play because they assume I didn't get accepted based on academic merit alone.

7. When I learn about the history of my race and my country, it is focused on people of my race. I can devote 4 years (and a quarter...) of my life and ungodly amounts of money to major in English which will REQUIRE classes that focus on authors of my race and include authors of colors as small optional elective classes. I see the faces of the crotchety Founding Fathers and their creepy powdered wigs EVERYWHERE and am assured that this country was founded on white supremacy and people of color essentially accomplished nothing because they're not in the history books, right?

Alright so what now my Wonder Bread looking friends? Are we supposed to just wallow in our white guilt and feel sorry for ourselves because geez I have it so easy wahhhh I feel so bad for people of color. First, cut that shit out. White guilt is not going to do anyone any good and honestly, it's just you inserting yourself into the struggles of people of color. Get out of there, that is not your space. Second, start by just acknowledging these privileges that you have. Notice them, mention them to your other 2% milk looking friends to teach them, and then quit crying and start standing in solidarity with people of color. LISTEN to them when they say something. Do not invalidate what a person of color says because you don't understand; YOU ARE NOT LIVING THEIR LIFE EXPERIENCE. What they say goes. If you truly want to help dismantle white supremacy and systemic racism, do what they say will help.