Tag Archives: Social Justice

True Confession: I have racist, sexist, transphobic, homophobic, and classist friends and family members

Do you ever wonder how you could possibly have emerged from the environment you were born into and brought up in? I wonder that all the time. Clearly some of my best traits I get from my father with a good bit of my mother’s zest for life and her interminable positive outlook mixed in to counter dad’s pathos. Dad had a strong sense of social justice rooted in the working class struggle and the anti-Catholic/anti-Irish prejudices that the Kelly/Casey families from which he sprang faced. I can see those elements in who I am….but so much else of who I am and what I value/believe is completely out of step with my family, many of my old friends, the communities I grew up in, and certainly in the Trump loving region I come from.  This really hit home recently when I reconnected with an old high school teacher – also gay, Catholic and from a rural Southern background. His most recent e-mail was filled with beliefs and attitudes straight from the conservative playbook on topics such as race in America, immigration ruining American culture, anger at what he experiences as white people being blamed for everything. He was espousing many of the same things my family of origin espouse. I was shocked as I had assumed our beliefs would be similar and not diametrically opposed. Dad used to say that our heroes do have clay feet – so I shouldn’t be surprised. 

I wish I understood how I escaped all of that value inculcation/indoctrination. If we are a product of our upbringing, how is it I am so different in my beliefs from my parents, my siblings, the teachers who shaped my education? I used to think it was my experience of being gay and Catholic in an incredibly homophobic and anti-Catholic KKK influenced culture. But as my old teacher demonstrated, being gay and Catholic does not necessarily help one understand other forms of oppression.  That shouldn’t be a surprise to me as I know many gay people who, for example, hold racist beliefs – any black LGBT+ person will be able to attest to the racism in LGBT communities. It really saddens me to know that people I love and cherish can hold such racist, sexist, classist, homophobic, and transphobic beliefs and values (though most would vehemently deny they have those beliefs). I realise that some of those beliefs have entered my unconsciousness and they do emerge at times to my shock and embarrassment. But why can I acknowledge that is a part of me and not get defensive, when so many of the people who shaped who I am today and love dearly are not able to do that? Why have the scales been peeled from my eyes so I can see so much of the various forms of oppression in our societies? If I knew that I could be a real force for good in the world. In the meantime I continue to gently speak my truth to those I love despite their racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic beliefs. 

Photo by Mathias P.R. Reding on Pexels.com

I sometimes worry that I become complicit in oppression by maintaining relationships with people with views I consider abhorrent.  But as I see the world becoming polarised, made up of echo chambers and unwilling to meaningfully engage with the ‘other side’ (whatever sides those are), I see fascism across the globe increasing. I wonder if there is a connection there?  I think one of the successes of the struggle for gay rights is that it became harder to ‘other’ and demonise gay people as we became visible. Through visibility and engaging with others, while being out, we became the gay brother, sister, uncle, aunt, neighbour, co-worker, politician, shop keeper, doctor, teacher, lecturer, street sweeper, delivery driver… Everyone, it turns out, had someone in their life who was gay. When allies started ’owning’ that they had positive relationships with gay people, that message got even louder. Demonising the ‘other’ is a powerful tool for oppression (just look at the anti-trans discourse for example), and through engagement we can disarm that powerful tool. So I will continue engaging with those I care about who also hold abhorrent views and gently speak my truth. It’s difficult to do this and I do experience moral distress, but perhaps my ability to love and gently confront at the same time is my superpower. I hope this superpower may put a few chinks in their echo chambers until the scales fall off their eyes. Now if I only really understood how those scales fell from my eyes…

Thank you Miss Mary – What do MG & IDS know?

Note: This blog post was initially made back in 2013. In the relaunch of my blog I decided to keep this on as it is one of my favourite pieces of writing.

 

I made good ole Suthin Biscuits this morning for breakfast. I haven’t eaten any for years, and it has been even longer since I made any. For all you folks not from the Deep South (and I’m not talking about SE England), Suthin is how to properly say Southern. Biscuits from that fantastic part of the world are not sweet twice baked confections. Rather, they are savoury, fluffy, light and can be served with breakfast, lunch or dinner. They are a truly gorgeous, simple and versatile foodstuff. If Moses had been lost in the pine forest in my home state of Georgia for all those years, I’m sure biscuits would have rained down instead of manna.

I’m not sure what put the notion of biscuits in my head, but as I thought of making them I was transported back to the late 1980s when I was running day programmes for mentally ill older people based on the psychosocial clubhouse model. This is where Miss Mary taught me to make biscuits. I spent this morning thinking back about this client (that’s the term we used back then instead of service user). Miss Mary was the child of slaves and lived through all the Jim Crow laws. Her entire life was marked by extreme racism, sexism and oppressive poverty. She worked at one of the few jobs available to her – as a domestic in someone’s home: low pay, no benefits and no taxes. As an older person she developed a chronic mental illness and was unable to work to support herself. Miss Mary became dependent on the state that had sanctioned oppressive systems that caused her dependency.

Recently Michael Gove attacked social work education again and suggested that university lecturers are teaching idealistic students to blame society rather than teaching them to make people take responsibility for their own actions. Gove’s comments rubbish C. Wright Mills’ concept of private troubles and public issues and the rather large evidence base regarding the negative impact of social inequalities on the lives of individuals. I thought of Gove’s comments while making the biscuits this morning and wondered what Gove would think of the woman who taught me to make them. Would it be wrong to consider that the very difficulties she was experiencing as an older ‘negro’ woman were perhaps caused by the society in which she lived? Would it be wrong to teach students to help Mary while also working to bring about social change?

I also thought of Mary again when reading the article in the Observer this morning about Iain Duncan Smith’s latest cuts . I also thought of the thousands of disabled people I have worked with over my career, who like Mary required support from the state. Many of the disabled people I have worked with have faced a lifetime of oppression, harsh social systems and dehumanising treatment. The messages coming from IDS continue to add to the dehumanising experiences of disabled people. These messages are often couched in terms of savings through individualism, privatisation, and the evils of public services. The messages I hear from the Westminster government suggest that people who are poor, disabled, ill, old and fragile, unemployed, experiencing difficulties in living or facing stressful life conditions are responsible for their own lot in life and therefore need to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. People who fall into these categories are a drain on society and have little value – people like Mary.

And yet, here I am nearly 30 years later still thinking about and reflecting on what Mary taught me. This women who was a daughter of slaves, poor, ill, disabled, had no economic ‘value’ and was a total drain on society. Yet, she taught me to bake biscuits despite being psychotic, delusional and demented. More importantly she also taught me how to be a better social worker. That second lesson I took with me into all the work I have done since. So in many ways Mary has influenced and touched thousands of people because of what she taught me…..and the biscuits are pretty darn good too!

I think the coalition knows the cost of many things, but the value of little.