you can't handle the truth about identity politics

*** This post was written as a draft and never published. As I combed through the drafts before finalizing the new blog page, I found this one and just. had. to publish. Thank you for sticking with me through a long radio silence here. Please enjoy this post, and stick around - a new, pretty site is just around the corner.***

On Identity Politics

Consider yourselves warned.

The next person who says the words "identity politics" to me is getting a piping hot loogie to the eyeball. And I have a cold. That nug could blind a motherfucker.

It may not be as eloquent as the kind of balletic one-two punch takedowns you hear in A Few Good Men, but I think it'll do the trick.

But why, Katie? Why? You might be asking yourself.

Why are you so pissed that you're going to hork a pox of blindness upon anyone who puts together two perfectly innocuous nouns: identity, and politics?

Oh, you wanna know why?

I think I'm entitled.

You want answers?

I WANT THE TRUTH.



(the truth:)

Son, we live in a white supremacist patriarchy, and that white supremacist patriarchy is guarded by men with guns and laws and all the fucking power.

Who's gonna dismantle that hierarchy? You?

YOU, LIEUTENANT WEINBERG?

I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom.

I tell Jerry from Omaha to take a goddamn seat in the conversation about a woman's right to choose. "You can't tell me I don't have a right to talk about this," he says. "What makes you think your opinion matters more than mine," he says. "Stop playing identity politics," he says. I have the responsibility to explain to Jerry that yes, my opinion about a uterus does matter more than his, because I actually fucking have one, and the laws that Jerry supports will affect my corporeal self ONLY SLIGHTLY more than his theoretical ethical stance on whether he has the right to storm into my internal organs and defend my own cells from my lady brain.

You weep for the good old days and you curse "identity politics." You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that "identity politics," while annoying to you, probably saves lives.

That intersectional feminists and activists and advocates and liberal snowflakes, while shrill and incomprehensible to you, save lives.

That"identity politics" 
is code for "not my problem
and I'm not gonna pay to fix it."


You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want identity politics. You need identity politics.

We use words like privilege, empathy, equity. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending our own equality to you. You use them as a punchline.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man that rises and sleeps under the blanket of freedom that I am trying to knit together, and then mocks the manner in which I am knitting it.

I would rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and start talking to your friends.

Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to.

Did you engage in identity politics on your blog?

I did the job--

DID YOU ENGAGE IN IDENTITY POLITICS ON YOUR BLOG?




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2 comments:

  1. You may not know this Katie. But, we’re actually BFF’s.

    ReplyDelete