Why women of colour need to take up space.
Playing soccer is how I learned terms like ‘home ground advantage’ and ‘possession is nine tenths of the law’. Now, as an adult, I know that no space is ever neutral; the status quo always serves one person’s interests to the detriment of another’s. First Nations people, women, people of colour, and queer folks have that unfortunate birth right called ‘Othering’. Why do the rules of this game dictate that because we are not the norm, we are therefore subordinate?
Our Othering is the product of power dynamics that have tacitly become entrenched over very long periods of time. Whether or not we notice, it’s happening. Just like there’s a quiet safety about being a member of the home team, with supportive crowds flanking the field; just like there’s a palpable antagonism directed towards the visiting side. Is there a metaphor better than sport to expose how tribal we are?
In subtler spaces than sport, it takes neologisms like ‘mansplaining’ to make us sit up and take notice of the fact that knowledge is political. The way I am, the way you are, the ways we take up space – these things are not neutral. Somebody always has the home ground advantage.
We still see history predominating over herstory. Worse, the same people who’ve narrated the past that shapes our present moment now claim the power to discredit anything, calling it ‘fake news’, irrespective of its epistemic merits. The production and dissemination (pun absolutely intended!) of knowledge is not neutral: it’s political. This is not a fair game, the rules are bent: possession is nine tenths of the law.
When First Nations and gender diverse people of colour contend for the right to take up space in largely uncontested domains where the privileged majority goes unchallenged, we behave tentatively. We cushion ourselves with low modality language (‘We think maybe...’) and profuse apologies (‘Sorry, can I say...’), assuming our instincts are untrustworthy to excuse our uncertainty (‘I just feel like...’). This is why First Nations and gender diverse people of colour need exclusive spaces.
Exclusive spaces for the historically marginalised allow for the development of an affirming posture towards self and others; exclusive spaces clarify a vocabulary distinct enough to demand attention. Exclusive spaces make it safe for the hurt and the confused to fall apart, their pain not foreign to their community. Exclusive spaces encourage authenticity and integrity in people whose identities have, for so long, been forced and fractured. Exclusive spaces help us to unlearn the narratives that have permitted our subjugation – to patriarchy or whiteness or heteronormativity – and to learn how to live in the space we have a right, by virtue of our humanity, to take up.
Without exclusive spaces, we forego the possibility of forming strong identities and forging solidarity. When First Nations and gender diverse people of colour nurture one another, we multiply representatives who shift the ground in a world of fraught spaces, making it a level playing field.
