Byers’ response to Ta-Nehisi Coates calling Melissa Harris-Perry “America’s foremost public intellectual” illustrates an important problem: People in positions of privilege frequently have blind spots for the work, achievements, and culture of people who are different than them.
Erasing plantations from the landscape or simply lambasting them doesn’t get rid of slavery; it just rids us of its most uncomfortable and most visible symbols.
America’s history of racialized slavery distilled the essence of patriarchy, and formed the roots of American rape culture. So why do famous white feminists fail to get it?
Feminism needs to center the experiences of all women of color in the movement. As a starting point, here are some suggestions from several smart women.
While respectful and serious in the treatment of its subjects, Follow the Leader is a rollicking romp through patriarchy. It is entertaining, illuminating, and a springboard for conversations beneficial to those of us who would prefer to see more than only conservative white boys angling for the oval office.
What’s funny about forced pregnancy?
OITNB isn’t perfect in its handling of race, class, and gender, but the series does get a lot right about the conversations people of color and white folks have amongst themselves and with each other, and how different identities and experiences shape those interactions.
A discussion of several hashtags that have been making their way around Twitter over the past week: #SolidarityIsForWhiteWomen, #BlackPowerIsForBlackMen, and #F*ckCisPeople.
Exploring overt racism, unconscious bias, and the ravages of inequality, Democratic lawmakers sought solutions in the wake of the Trayvon Martin verdict.
It is not the responsibility of feminists of color to tell white feminists we exist and have been a part of the feminist movement for a long time. When feminists of color or Black feminists—or whatever moniker they choose—are passed over and ignored, it is an insult, intentional or not.