~H1~

Social justice movements are notorious for having several moving parts. While participating in and watching coverage of the many movements sweeping the nation, it has become obvious to me that one of those moving parts is the silencing of women — specifically Queer Women of Color.

It was September of 2014 and Michael Brown had been dead for a month. Trayvon Martin had been dead for more than two years. These were names I knew. Yet, I had yet to hear about the Women of Color being killed at the hands of police and vigilantes. I hadn’t fully wrapped my mind around the Black Lives Matter Movement, so I decided to do my own research. You can imagine how surprised I was to learn that three Queer Women of Color founded Black Lives Matter. Google and Twitter quickly introduced me to the work of Alicia Garza, Opal Tometi, and Patrisse Cullors. Why was I surprised? Because none of these three women had appeared in the media coverage I saw. None of these three women’s names had been mentioned. Rather in America’s typical Christopher Columbus fashion, the work of Women of Color had been hijacked. Here were countless Black men pontificating on every possible news network about the Black Lives Matter Movement and yet none of them had played a hand in the founding of Black Lives Matter. Some of them were even made temporarily famous because of their remarks about Ferguson, but few of them were “shooting in the gym” with Alicia, Opal, and Patrisse back in 2013 when The Movement started. Yet here they were: loud, strong and taking all of the credit for the Black Lives Matter Movement. So loud, in fact, that the voices of those who actually started this movement remained unheard for quite some time. I will refrain from speaking for Alicia Garza, Opal Tometi, and Patrisse Cullors by stating that they had been silenced, but I will say that – having no knowledge of who they were or of the important work they were doing – made me feel that their voices were nonexistent in my world, that they had been silenced, and that bothered me. Immensely.

In the coming months, I would continue to be bothered by the treatment of and attempts to silence most of those Ferguson activists who were Women of Color — specifically of Alexis Templeton and Brittany Ferrell, two young Women of Color whose open acceptance of themselves and their love for one another quickly made headlines as if two women loving women negates the work they were (and are still) doing for their community.

Fast forward to October of 2015. AfroPunk’s Twitter feed introduced me to Laila Nur and, more specifically, her open letter to NC Pride. Nur’s account of what she experienced at the hands of an NC Pride announcer and NC Pride staff was beyond troubling. As a born and bred North Carolinian, the fact that such treatment could occur in my state wasn’t shocking. What was shocking to me was that – even in spaces meant for unity and to celebrate the marginalized and those who are discriminated against – Queer Women of Color were still being silenced and in increasingly more violent manners. Laila alleges that, before she was handed the microphone, she was told, “Don’t say anything offensive.” That begs the obvious question: What, exactly, is offensive?

Reading Laila’s open letter reminded me of my recent reading of Audre Lorde’s Sister Outsider and, more specifically, of and interview between Adrienne Rich and Audre Lorde that is included in the collection. Lorde, a Black lesbian and activist, speaks very candidly about the erasure and silencing of Women of Color. Throughout Sister Outsider, Lorde discusses the power and importance of the voices of women. She examines this from a historical context, but also based on the events happening around here, specifically the efforts made by White women to silence those Women of Color who sought to contribute their perspective to the Gender Equality Movement.

Nur’s open letter also reminded me of the accounts of the treatment of women associated with the March on Washington and the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense. Gloria Richardson’s interview with Democracy Now and Angela Davis’ comments about the gender issues plaguing the Black Panthers had been quite instrumental in my understanding of the continued efforts of many to make use of the work of Women of Color while refusing to give them their due or their place in history.

As I continued to learn and gain more clarity about the many forces that Queer Women of Color were constantly forced to fight against within their respective movements, I began wondering more about the act of silencing. So much so, that I had to look up the definition of silencing to determine whether or not it was intended to be a violent act or whether it was an act enforced through violence. According to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, to silence is “to cause (someone or something) to stop speaking or making noise; to cause (someone or something) to become silent; to stop (someone) from expressing opinions that are opposed to your own or from telling people about bad things that you have done; to stop (something) from being expressed or revealed.” (Emphasis added.) To me, that means that silencing is both an act of violence and that it is enforced through violence. To me, that means that silencing is telling someone not to say anything offensive and that the acts taken to prevent such “offensive speech” are oftentimes more offensive than what was said.

With that definition in mind, I began asking myself a series of questions: Why must these women be consistently silenced in social justice movements and the fight for equality? Why are these particular women only appreciated in any movement when they show up, but not when they speak up? What has society done to Women of Color in general, and Queer Women of Color in particular, that it is so afraid to have repeated?

I think Audre Lorde would say that it is the inherent power of Women of Color that people fear. I would agree with her. I would also take it a step further to say that Women of Color who are standing in their truths, specifically those who openly identify with any part of the LGBTQI Community have been perceived to be a threat. How dare we not follow society’s norms and shy away from what speaks to who we are. How dare we not lie about who we are and what we represent just because it makes other people more comfortable when we do. Who do we think we are to be both proud of being a Woman of Color while also celebrating our sexuality in whatever way we see fit?

If just our presence as Queer Women of Color is considered problematic, then of course they (whomever “they” may be on any particular occasion) would fear what happens when we actually open our mouths and speak our truths while telling theirs. This brings me back to the statement made to Laila Nur: “Don’t say anything offensive.” Bear with me while I feign confusion at what “offensive” means.

Laila Nur was treated was offensively. How Alexis and Brittany were treated when news of their relationship became public was offensive. The fact that many random and prominent Black men made no space for Alicia, Opal, and Patrisse to speak on the work they were doing is offensive. The fact that Black men, White men, and White women so frequently speak for and about Queer Women of Color as opposed to speaking to them is offensive. You know what else I find offensive? I find the whitewashing of Stonewall offensive. I find the fact that it has been deemed acceptable to erase a person and the validity of their opinions and actions because of their race, gender, and sexual orientation offensive.

Furthermore, I find it offensive that we can quote statistics about everything else under the sun, but nobody dares to mention that a 2014 report from the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs states that “[The] NCAVP documented a slight increase in homicides in 2014 and the severity of fatal violence against people of color, transgender women, and gender non-conforming LGBTQ and HIV-affected people remains alarmingly high and suggests these communities are at highest risk of homicide…[, that] 80.00% of all homicide victims in 2014 were people of color…[, or that] [t]he overwhelming majority of homicide victims were Black and African American (60.00%), and 15.00% of victims were Latin@. More than half (55.00%) of the homicide victims were transgender women, all of whom were transgender women of color…” (Emphasis added.)

I find it offensive that the fight for equality has been reduced to issues such as same-sex marriage when there are LGBTQI Women of Color being slaughtered for simply having the audacity to exist.

Making space to discuss our issues – ALL of our issues – is significant and sometimes I am worried that that space will never be given to Queer Women of Color. In those moments, it is the open letters, the marching in the streets and in federal buildings, the continued existence of Queer Women of Color that gives me hope. I think a clear message is being sent. The act of silencing Queer Women of Color has been identified as such and is being openly fought against. We are no longer willing to compromise ourselves to ensure that anyone else is not offended. It has become clear to me – as I hope it has become clear to you – that Queer Women of Color are refusing to be silenced any longer.