GUEST POLITICAL BLOG from Rosa Rajendran: People Are Too Privileged To See Class and Money: Perspective of A Disadvantanged Woman of Colour.

Some very important words from a friend of mine, posted on her blog.  NEVER FORGET THE MONEY, would be my summary. Over to Rosa:
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Intersectionality is the theory that multiple social identities and related oppressions overlap, with these social identities and oppressions being categories such as race, gender, sexuality, age, and class. The fact that these overlap, means that feminism must take into account all of these different aspects and understand the oppression these groups face, and not just work for white, heterosexual, middle-class or upper-class women. It has been embraced by feminism across universities and in political groups such as the Young Greens. I think intersectionality has been embraced in this way because, essentially, it seems very easy to understand: someone who is Asian and identifies as non-binary, for example, has a very different experience and faces different oppression than someone who is Asian and identifies as a woman. But, I believe, after a certain stage, simple interpretations of intersectionality fails precisely because of these rigid categories that we try to put people into, and because some of the discussions that I have seen, fail to take into account the most important factor: economic circumstances and class.

Here’s the crux of it: my oppressions, much of what I have gone through, come from one huge, distinct part of my identity: I was poor. Not just the kind of poor that means you still are able to live in a house and go on a small holiday once a year and scrape together enough money to pay off a mortgage. No, it was the kind of poor which meant I ended up homeless and living in a women’s refuge for families fleeing from violence, when the rest of my sri-lankan family decided me and my mum were not worthy enough to help, because we were poor, unimportant and lacking social status.

Every year, my mum faced harrowing tribunals to be able to get benefits to have enough money to feed me. The debts mounted up, I was terrified every time I heard a knock on the door in case it was a bailiff again. I developed horrendous anxiety and recurring panic attacks because of our financial and housing situation. Once I went to university with a scholarship and got a job, I started paying off all of these debts and a cloud lifted. I was happy, and felt free, because for once, I was free from financial burden. 

Then slowly, I felt myself becoming ill. I tried to put it aside for a long time, decided to leave accountancy and work for a PhD studentship (with a stipend attached) hoping for more flexibility, and hoping that it would make me feel better and that the never-ending fatigue, unexplained pain, nausea and migraines which had been slowly invading my life would lift. But in the end, my illness got the better of me and I became bed-bound, and my stipend money will now stop until I am well enough to return to university.

I have not left my house for a month, because of course I do not have money to hire a private occupational therapist. Even if I were to leave the house, I cannot tolerate sitting in a wheelchair for long because I bought a cheap, manual assisted wheelchair that does not provide support and jerks so much that the pain in my joints and muscles being unbearable. I do not have a carer paid for by the state, because my local council has a waiting list that is 6 months long. In a second, many of my current oppressions and past oppressions could have been reduced or even taken away, if society was more caring and equal, or I had different economic circumstances. 

Yes, being a person of colour plays a part. It plays a part because I have a family who decided to throw me and my mum out when we were at our most vulnerable. Yes, I suffered oppression due to being a person of colour, because of my family. Yes, I do suffer from micro-aggressions, which are termed as behaviours that happen to women and other oppressed groups that can have a large impact over time. For example, I have had people treat me or talk to me as if I didn’t understand English, or something exotic or different, because I am a Sri-Lankan woman, I have had trouble with jobs and men in workplaces treat me as inferior, and I have been cat-called and sexually harassed and other things that women, and in some instances particularly women of colour, face.. But these micro-aggressions pale in comparison to the havoc that was wreaked on me by my economic circumstances and lack of support networks growing up. 

Someone who is Sri-Lankan, experiences very different cultures and oppressions from someone who is from a different Asian background. And two women who are Sri-Lankan, can have very different experiences depending on the village or town or city they were born to, their caste and family status, and even status (financial and otherwise) within their family. Family support and networks (or lack of it) is crucial. The interplay is so complex, and results in such vastly different experiences, that I am uneasy in saying that another woman of colour would face the same oppressions as me.  Many of the women and people of colour that I know, live in a world so highly privileged and so separate from me, that I would say we are worlds apart.

When it comes to having money to eat, having a home which I feel safe and comfortable in, being healthy and feeling free: I have far more in common, both in terms of my oppression and my identity and experiences, with anyone from poorer backgrounds (both women of colour and not), than with people who identify as women of colour or disabled and are from middle-class or richer backgrounds.

I believe that past and present economic circumstances, as well as class, is so important. It is the most important factor to take into consideration, when combined with other oppressions. Women from poorer backgrounds   and without support suffer horrifically: yes, if they are poor and white, they may not face the same micro-aggressions that people of colour face, and the oppressions that other disadvantaged groups face. Yes, they may find it easier to get an interview than a poor woman of colour or a poor woman who is not heterosexual. Yes, they may not receive islamophobic threats and abuse. But, money and class is a stepping stone. Even if it’s harder to get an interview, connections and work experience opens doors that disadvantaged people do not get: moving to a more desirable, liberal neighbourhood becomes easier, having a job becomes the norm rather than an anomaly. I have seen this time and time again, with privileged friends who are people of colour (both men and women) getting very high paying jobs very quickly, when those who are both people of colour and not people of colour, from very low economic circumstances, sinking even further into difficulty.

And those without such luck and due to an accident of birth or circumstances may have to rely on the state to feed and clothe them. The oppression and difficulties faced from this one thing alone, is unbelievably huge. They may live in constant fear: the fear that you will never know until you are in that situation, the fear of constant tribunals and court cases, of bailiffs, of debts, of declining health, of food, of mortality, of not finding work and having no one to rely on. Those from disadvantaged backgrounds, those in poverty, deal with things that most people from middle-class or upper class backgrounds have never even thought about. Having money, growing up having it, having your basic needs always provided for and not living hand to mouth, already affords such a huge privilege. 

And throughout all this, the reason why I suffered like this, is because of my economic circumstances. It is the elephant in the room, the issue that seems so hard to talk about, even within the Green Party and to fit into discussions about intersectionality. I see discussions about people of colour, about women and rape culture, about women with disabilities, about LGBTIQA issues; all of these valid and important. But all of these issues are compounded and intertwined with economic circumstances, by money, and cannot be separated.

We are all separate people, with vastly different experiences, and simply because someone is a woman, or is disabled, or is Sri-Lankan, it does not mean that my experiences or oppressions are even remotely the same as that person. In fact they probably are not, unless they come from a similar social and economic background and have the same family and social networks.

The Green Party and other liberal left-wing groups are often accused of being too liberal, too middle-class, too white. Ironically, by embracing this simple form of thinking of intersectionality, in which people are placed into neat boxes and have ready-made oppressions placed upon them, and failing to take into account class and economic issues, the green party and the young greens are showing their own privilege. Intersectionality is important, but it is not a simple answer. There are many nuances and every story and every oppression is different, because every single person is different and feels things differently.

The fact that many people cannot see or fail to discuss economic circumstances whenever other issues are discussed, shows that they are indeed privileged and have not had to deal with the huge, over-arching oppression of poverty that casts a shadow over every aspect of life.
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Here is a link to the original article on Rosa's blog, it's a newish blog and therewill be more to come:
https://rosaamongstthethorns.wordpress.com/2015/11/04/when-intersectionality-fails-and-people-are-too-privileged-to-see-it-perspectives-of-a-disadvantaged-woman-of-colour/

Review: 'The Tea Planters Wife', by Dinah Jeffries

HUGE SPOILERS!

My blurb for this book: Life getting you down?  Stressed out?  Step into this world, you'll forget your own...

I was a bit wary of this one, as it had a beautiful cover and looked to be one of those epic family stories of far flung and long gone times that can be brilliant and can be crap.  I was worried it would suffer the flaws the genre can do sometimes, of overly posh characters that I feel nothing for; a lingering on terrible deep pain…for instance: this genre always has a SECRET at its core.  9 times out of 10 this unimaginable [ha!] secret is always a love affair between unsuitable people and/or a missing, given away or dead child. In this case, a given away child.  Sometimes these books can be outrageously morbid and intense. 

This one wasn’t.  It started a little stilted and I was worried for the writing style.  But it changed and settled and flowed beautifully.  The main character was neither stupid, nor naïve, nor horrifically melancholic nor self-sabotaging: she was just a young woman in increasingly difficult circumstances trying to do her best.  I read a Lucinda Riley a while back, with a given away child – and it caused me great pain and I felt that part of the plot was dealt with with such intense and dwelt on agony – poor child without its mother, and the suffering of the mother [no matter how successful and kindly the child grew up to be, as if that was some sort of sop, at the end], I felt that somehow enough emphasis had not been placed on the situation – even though the whole book revolved around it.  I was left saddened and upset and despite the book being very good, felt it had fallen into melodrama more than once, and that this particular truly painful situation had been explored…wrongly somehow.  [There was a transgender issue in the book that was handled far better, for example.]  These vast sweeping generational epics need careful handling, or they can veer into something quite dark, sometimes.

This book was perfect for how the given away child angle was dealt with.  We felt for the heroine, felt with her – and she was in terrible pain often [e.g. the scene where she tries to find the village in the rain and realises she can't and must turn back, so sits hugging herself as if it were her child...how much this scene could have been overwritten; how much it was not, and done perfectly]: but somehow it was contained enough to bear reading about and I understood her every action.  You felt it more for feeling it less – isn’t that interesting?  So though she had to give poor Liyoni away and later the child died, and it was terrifically sad, with the last line of the book showing the heroine still not forgiving herself for the years of self-enforced separation – despite that…it was all understood, all made sense and none was too much.  It was wise and gentle, and vivid.

The subsidiary characters: Verity, the troubled and child-like sister; Hugh, Gwen’s other child; Savi Ravsinghe, handsome painter suspected of crimes he did not commit; Christina, the provocative and beautiful American; McGregor, the buttoned up overseer; Fran, the wild cousin and best friend of Gwen – all marvellously painted.  The era of turn of the century to 1940’s Ceylon as was, was marvellous.  You felt the immersion in the privileged culture of the ex-pats, and of Gwen’s determination to understand the tea pickers and their families; the political backdrop and increasing needs for independence are a steady hum in the background.  The constant barrage of sensory descriptions and smells in particular: wonderful. 

Also, at bottom this is a book about racism, and feeling other races are subhuman - and the damage this inflicts not only on those oppressed, but on the oppressors, caught in their own twisted 'moral' system.  It's an incredibly evocative portrait of a time when mixed marriages were not encouraged anymore, and a 'dark' baby was a shame.  It shows the pain and stupidity of judging humans as lesser for such delineations.  The heroine is a kind and gentle person, brought up to be kind to all, and at several times in the book she outwardly clashed with the mores of the time and fights back against them, as she can't understand why we just aren't kind to one another; but she suffers almost more than any of the other characters when the 'morals' of the time with regard to race catch her badly.  And she ends up suspecting a kind and civilised man of a terrible crime, when its genetics that are the culprit.  Its a good exploration of time dependent morals, racism and consequences...  Bound up in a whole painting of a period.  Intense, beautiful and hopeful, at the end.

 I will definitely read the author’s only other book.  And hope she comes out with another soon.  This is wonderful escapism where you learn history too, at its best.