A white college student from a private college goes into a poor neighborhood and volunteers four hours a week and that’s considered exemplary. [Whereas] a poor kid who lives in that community and takes care of all the kids in that neighborhood four hours every day is not seen as a volunteer.
Dr. Patricia Hill Collins quoting Public Allies CEO Paul Schmitz in her talk Answering the Call to Community Service. (via sexartandpolitics)
A microcosm of one of the fundamental issues with the non-profit industrial complex.
(via myflagisblackandred)
(via tangledupinlace)
“I created this series of photos in response to Iran’s president Ahmadinejad’s naive comments that we do not have homosexuality in Iran. I wanted to say that we do have homosexuals and we have lots of them. My hope was to give solace to Muslims who feel they cannot be Muslims and homosexuals at the same time. I wanted to say that your love for God or belief in good for humanity should not determine who you’re choosing to love. My hope is that more people come to see that we should leave people to make their own choices, regarding who they want to love. I think the message of love from all of the prophets was lost, in all the noise from the later organizers of religions and their followers. I wish to remind people of that original intention of our belief in a higher good.”
(via mylifeasafeminista)
In case you’re wondering why it is I seem to reblog old posts in random order, ummm… I’m having a hard time adjusting to tumblr. Since I didn’t have one for the longest time, I would follow other people’s tumblrs in Google Reader and star stuff I liked. Now I’m going back through my star list and reblogging everything on tumblr! I know, I know. I’ll get there someday.
:-)
(via riotsnotdiets)
by Idil Farah
Friday, May 06, 2011Being a Somali Feminist sure sucks. I once attended a women’s conference in Alberta, and the topic of discussion revolved around the lived experiences of Muslim-Canadian women who are forced to operate amongst two often-competing paradigms. A semi-prominent social scientist began her treatise against the illiberal cultural practice of female genital circumcision, and the oppressive cultural space Somali women inhabit. This orientalist continued to discuss Somali women as if she were discussing zoo animals on an episode of national geographic, and continued her rant without any regards to the actual lived experiences of Somali women. When I interjected, and explained that Somali women are active agents in this exploitive practice, and not passive spectators in their own subjugation, she dismissed my opinions and accused of me being a patriarchal apologist. I explained that this is a cultural practice performed, encouraged, and maintained by women, within the confines of a patriarchal society. Many human rights activists have challenged the legitimacy of FGM as a cultural institution; and have called upon governments to ban this practice. But many of these activists fail to understand the cultural importance of female genital circumcision to the individuals that practice it.
While it is an oppressive practice, purveyors of this tradition view it as liberation, for how can ‘womanhood’ be constructed without the cutting of a woman’s perceived sexually deviant clitoris. In the eyes of the protectors of ‘Somali culture’, to attack female genital circumcision is to attack the Somali women, as this is as customary as dolls given to little girls. I do not suggest we accept this excuse, or lend legitimacy to it, but we must listen to these narratives, as understanding the context around this social institution is important in abolishing it. If one depicts a visual representation of submissive and docile Somali woman, then one overlooks the powerful role Somali women play in legitimizing this tradition. In my own experience, it was my father and uncle who objected to this practice, and saved my siblings and I from the unjust fate experienced by many Somali women, while my mother supported it. She continued her lecture, again ignoring the voices of the women she claims to fight on behalf of, and completely rejecting my analysis.
I remember having this feeling of déjà-vu, as I am persistently playing a mediator between the global north and south. When amongst my Somali co-nationals, I am charged with being the westernized feminist who seeks to delegitimize important cultural institutions. When I’m amongst western feminists, I am the apologist for tyrannical and anti women institutions. And to this academic, I was simply a brainwashed African woman in need of the protection of liberalism.
My experience is not unique. There are many women who are forced into this mediator role by competing cultural paradigms. If I lend political and social agency to Somali women, and reject the limited narratives about my homeland, then I am in solidarity with patriarchy. On the other hand, if I challenge and call on Somali women/African women to address our subjugation at the hands of our men, I am merely the political messenger of the West. I think much of this conflict stems from society’s need to group cultures into comfortable boxes, so we may understand and place judgment upon them. Even within a specific cultural perspective, like that of Somali women, there exists many multi-dimensions. As a Canadian of Somali descent, my experiences and challenges are different from a Somali woman living in war torn Mogadishu. As a feminist, and political activist, I find it at times difficult to mediate these worldviews, as I feel I am often caught in the middle between the civilizations.
When one thinks of Somalia, one imagines our planets version of hell, with images of pirates, warlords, FGM, and poverty fresh in the minds of the public. While these images are part of a society in chaos, it is reductionist, and these limited accounts provide little support to the efforts of dividing the cultural gap between global women. Women are complex, our experiences are nuanced, and our struggles cannot be summed up in a PHD dissertation. The image of the oppressed African women does little to support African feminists, and our quest for social justice. Similarly, the perception of western women amongst African women must be re-evaluated, and not reduce an entire movement to western imperialism. If we want to address and devise solutions to our common/uncommon problems, we must accept our multidimensional layers of our experiences and identities, while rejecting the ‘othering’ of our fellow sisters.
Idil Holif is a blogger and immigrant rights activist. She currently divides her time between London and Toronto, where she is currently working on her first short film. She obtained a degree in political science at the University of Alberta, and is extremely passionate about migrant rights/and women’s issue. You can find Idil blogging at Accents and Africa and you cant contact her at idil@ualberta.ca.
(via riotsnotdiets)
”One day we must ask the question, ‘Why are there forty million poor people in America?’ And when you begin to ask that question, you are raising questions about the economic system, about a broader distribution of wealth. When you ask that question, you begin to question the capitalistic economy. And I’m simply saying that more and more, we’ve got to begin to ask questions about the whole society. We are called upon to help the discouraged beggars in life’s market place. But one day we must come to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring. It means that questions must be raised. You see, my friends, when you deal with this, you begin to ask the question, ‘Who owns the oil?’ You begin to ask the question, ‘Who owns the iron ore?’ You begin to ask the question, ‘Why is it that people have to pay water bills in a world that is two thirds water?’ These are questions that must be asked.”
-Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
And this is what really got Dr. MLK killed. (via black-culture)
THIS
(via killthemass)
(via mylifeasafeminista)
