The Politics of Healing

In Yasmin Nair moving speech, "The Politics of Storytelling," the idea that struck me the most was that, "We [as people who belong identities that are oppressed] are not connected by the truth or universality of our experiences because our experiences are not universal. Instead, we are connected by the systemic links between the oppressions that grind us down." It was something I had to chew over in my head for a while and still am in the process of digesting. I had difficulty with this notion because of how we, as a society are often led to believe that stories and "the personal" would be enough influence to change public perception and bringing about social change.  Supposedly, recounting and spreading awareness through our individual yet somewhat common stories would be a humanizing factor that would help to bring about social change. The point was to use ethos, to appeal to people's emotions, to pull some heart strings for your cause’s benefit. Right now, as I am writing this entry I am being reminded of something. I am being reminded of the "Mothers of the Movement" speech given at the DNC earlier this year. I am being reminded of how mothers of black men and women who were murdered at the hands of the police/in police custody went up on stage and told their stories. They told stories of how they felt during their children, how reluctant they all are to be participants of their particular movement because being a part of that movement would mean that they had to have lost their children, they endorsed Hillary Clinton as sympathizer with their cause. Hearing their stories is of course, always heart breaking because it speaks to the harsh realities of what it means to be black in the United States. As a college student at a private liberal arts student, when I hear them speak or see them represented, very particular ideas come to mind: racism, police brutality, the prison complex/forms of modern day slavery, racial profiling, the roots of "policing," etc. But the closer I listened to exactly what ideas they actually put into words vs what ideas were merely hinted at, I started to understand Yasmin Nair's point.

There are quite a number of ways to look at the speech that all the mothers made. One way is to assume that it was very much calculated, very well thought out. One could say that they very purposely did not emphasize systemic racism or police brutality or other “systemic links” that lead to the murdering of black lives, because of their audience. One could say that they very specifically stuck to ethos, to pulling heart strings, by humanizing themselves and the lives lost, emphasizing that they are mothers who lost children who do not want other mothers to continue losing children. However, I think Nair would critique that their speeches placed too much emphasis on personal narrative. She might, like me, assume that they only said what was allowed to be said and that they very specifically chose this format of speaking about police brutality and the devaluing of black lives, for this specific audience. Or she might say that by doing this they are losing acknowledging “systemic links” in their oppression, that they are missing out on the type of resistance that is needed for such a movement. Nair might say that the underlying systemic problems need to be at the forefront and that simply sticking to personal narrative, even if it is for that specific situation, is like giving up a crucial part of their movement and slows the progress that is needed to change how undervalued black lives are in America. I think, that Nair would recognize and conclude that although it might not have been the ideal conversation or even the best platform (I am recalling how Nair was reluctant to give “The Politics of Storytelling” speech at the venue it was given to because of their bigotry) it was a platform where some form of progress can be made even if it is not much progresses or consciousness being raised, it is still a platform on which they can be heard. 

Reading Nair reminded me about how I sometimes stress and focus on my personal narrative and other people’s relation to my personal narrative, I need to not do that. Sometimes I get angry at my personal experiences and I get angry at the villains in my friends’ personal experiences that relate to mine. I do this and I envelop myself in it, and leave the “systemic links between the oppressions that grind [my friends and I] down” on the back burner. Recounting personal experience and personal story is healing in a sense but something that I have found more healing is acknowledging the systems in place and remembering that the people in my personal experiences, the villains who are not really villains, are merely products of our society (as am I) and that my ideas (similarly to the ones they voice that hurt and oppress me) are not original. I have bigger fish to fry, we all do.