Jussie Smollett (or The Importance of Genuine Allies)
No doubt you’ve heard of the brutal attack of actor and singer-songwriter Jussie Smollett last week, during which he had a noose placed around his neck, “an unknown chemical substance” poured on his body, and racial and homophobic slurs used toward him. Celebrity or not, person of colour or not, this could only have been a traumatic experience, not only for the incident itself, but for what it represents: the conformation that persons are becoming increasingly comfortable being openly racist and homophobic, to the point of public physical violence.
I decided to share the link with a friend of mine, a heterosexual black woman who happens also to be a fan of Empire, the series for which Smollett is mostly known. After nary a glance, she responds, “That’s sad.” I could sense that some bullshit was coming, so instead of seeking my own inner peace, I decided to follow the scent. “What do you mean ‘sad’? They put a noose around his neck.” I mean, no gesture in modern-day America could be clearer or more evocative.
“This kind of attack also happens to straight black men,” she replied, “and I don’t hear you talking about those.” There it was. But there’s more, as there’s usually a rationale to this sort of thinking. “This really is very sad [but] the LGBTQ community is far more accepted than a plain black person may ever be in the US and [in] other places.” She drops the teacup emoji as if she’s made some profound revelation. “I truly hope that Jussie gets justice and complete healing,” she adds, as if this absolves her from her playing down of a hate crime.
Before I allowed myself to get stuck on trying to figure out what a “plain” black person is, I ignored that and started digging straightaway into the layers of nonsense that I had just read.
Apart from the fact that I have, in the past, expressed outrage at all sorts of attacks on the advancement and well-being of black people, physical, verbal or systemic — which is very much beside the point — I feel like most persons who understand how discrimination works would know that it’s quite possible to support a number of causes at once; that offering support to a particular cause doesn’t invalidate the existence and value of another. That’s where intersectionality comes in, ensuring that everyone is heard, their causes addressed and problems dealt with, thus, driving home the understanding that combatting discrimination is an endeavour best undertaken as a collaborative and empathetic effort.
Thinking it acceptable to have a purposely lukewarm reaction to a hate crime because the victim’s identity doesn’t entirely match that of the group to which you offer your support is deeply problematic. There is absolutely no good that can come from pitting minority groups and their struggles against each other: no awareness, no enlightenment and certainly no solution.
My friend also mentioned Smollett’s celebrity as a driving factor for the traction that story picked up, and she was right in that regard, but that much was obvious. His celebrity status had nothing to do with his queerness. No one made it a bigger story than it was because he was gay. The report said that homophobic and racial slurs were used toward him, so it’s quite clear that he was attacked on both fronts. As a result, the incident invoked the ire of two camps, which is perfectly natural. Had he been a straight, black male celebrity, the Internet’s outrage would have been similar, based on celebrity status alone. And in that case, LGBTQ news outlets have not covered the story for obvious reasons. Standard news outlets would, however, still have reported the attack.
Furthermore, the post I sent her was a screenshot from the Shade Room, of all places, so her point is moot. Most of the persons who posted about the incident did so because it was a hate crime, and one in which two qualities of the victim that make Smollett a minority were addressed by his attackers.
The more I dissect her ridiculous comments is the less I see of her problem with the lack of coverage and attention given to straight black men and the more I see a twisted belief system in place behind it all, one that places “plain” black men above queer ones. And the most tragic aspect about her statement was that, for all her apparent pursuit of justice, she failed entirely to acknowledge that Smollett is a black man. In that case, are straight black men to be seen as higher on the food chain than gay ones?
If she truly wants to make the reprehensible and ill-advised choice to make oppression and discrimination into a competition, I should point out a very obvious fact: if members of the LGBTQ community are reviled and — as she claims — African American men/men of African descent are even more looked down upon, then where does that leave the man who is both gay and black?
If she truly were a black woman who stood for and supported black men, she’d stand for all black men, because that’s what genuine activism is. When you’re actively seeking to create and point out new divisions in a situation where division already exists, I’m afraid that you’re part of the problem. It’s pathetic, laughable even, that she thinks she has championed something or someone with her statement, when the only thing that she’s really put her support behind is further separation, oblivion and apathy, which, along with wilful ignorance, can quite literally kill.
It’s so exhausting when a straight ally makes these kinds of comments. You look on or listen in horror as they betray their insidious, latent homophobia. And your heart sinks as it registers what their comment truly implies, because it shows us that this person is not as much on our side as we had imagined. I don’t intend to create an “us vs. them” situation, neither am I negating the fact that, through socialisation and experience, I have my own prejudices to unpack and dispel, but that doesn’t make these occurrences any less disappointing.
Look out for disingenuous allies; you know the ones: girls who relish the idea of having gay male friends to discuss relationships or to go shopping with, yet they’re put off when the sharing starts going both ways. People who root for the RuPaul’s Drag Race contestants yet can’t abide effeminate gay men in their workplaces and churches. The people in stiches watching Modern Family and Will and Grace, yet they think that queer persons are asking for “special” rights when we call for protection by law. Selective and conditional acceptance is an affront to our queer identity and should never be tolerated.
All the above-mentioned behaviours reflect wilful blindness, an inherent belief in separation, and a failure to understand the true meaning of equality: that everyone deserves to enjoy the same freedom of movement and expression. If persons truly placed value on such an ideal, there would be no time to see struggles as separate and to pit them against each other; only a drive to keep pressing forward to ensure that we all get a little closer to the goal every day.
