Intersectionality: What Is It? Why Do We Need It?

What does intersectionality mean to you? Though a seemingly simple concept, my first encounter with it left me overwhelmed. In an introductory Gender, Women, and Sexuality Studies course during my first semester at college, I properly learned about intersectionality. Kimberlé Crenshaw’s seminal work changed my previous understanding of feminism by using theory. Crenshaw’s argument centers “on the intersections of race and gender” and “highlights the need to account for multiple grounds of identity when considering how the social world is constructed” (Crenshaw 1245). By breaking intersectionality into three main categories—structural, political, and representational—Crenshaw addresses the need for a new way to understand “the broader scope of contemporary identity politics” (1245).

Before I knew about Crenshaw’s work or had taken an introductory Gender, Women, and Sexuality Studies course, I had never formally learned about intersectionality. The first time I heard the word I was at an orientation breakout session when two student leaders declared it as “a popular and important word you need to know.” Their authoritative tone left me embarrassed and feeling uneducated. Because I attended a non-denominational private all-girls high school, I prided myself on being progressive and forward-thinking. To not know what intersectionality meant felt shameful.

Crenshaw groups her essay into three sections per her three identified types of intersectionality. Structural intersectionality explains how race and gender are intertwined and affect a person’s lived experiences. Women of color, especially Black women, face more encounters with racism, classism, and abuse. Women and BIPOC are at a disadvantage because social structures benefit the heteropatriarchy, a system built for white cisgender heterosexual men. A person’s positionality in life is equivalent to a ringed ladder. White men have the easiest time because they are born at the top or are able to quickly reach the top. White women, Black men, and white LGBTQ+, while still holding an identity in a system built for their oppression, have less difficulty climbing their way to the top of the ladder. In other words, these individuals metaphorically clamber on top of people with multiple intersecting identities like Black women and BIPOC LGBTQ+ to gain their own liberation. I want to acknowledge that the analogy given is not perfect and does not encapsulate the nuances of all systemic forms of oppression; I recognize how broad it is. However, hopefully a visual description outlines a clearer image of how oppression and privilege operate.

Crenshaw continues on to emphasize the ensuing trauma from such disregard of humanity. The irreparable damage of oppressing others based on appearance to gain personal liberation exemplifies the famous saying, “The personal is political.” An individual cannot detangle their identity from their ideology. How someone lives and breathes influences their worldview.

First wave feminism is a perfect example of gaining “liberation” at the cost of oppressing others, or what Crenshaw identifies as “political intersectionality.” Elizabeth Cady Stanton, referred to as one of the catalysts for the suffragette movement, heavily relied on racist rhetoric to prove white women as more deserving of the vote than Black men or Black women. However, Ida B. Wells, a well-known abolitionist and feminist, called out Stanton’s racism and attempted oppression of Black women through reliance on white southern involvement in the suffragette movement. Therefore, first wave feminism “highlights the fact that women of color are situated within at least two subordinated groups that frequently pursue conflicting political agendas” (Crenshaw 1252).

Representational intersectionality, Crenshaw’s third and final type of intersectionality, is the most pertinent form of intersectionality that must be applied to current social justice movements occurring during our present day. The failure to recognize an additional identity which contributes to the oppression of one group only strengthens the other. In first wave feminism, the movement’s denial of racial inequalities only strengthened white middle class women’s attempt to win the vote while simultaneously denying the same right to so many of their sisters. When implemented under false pretenses as a progressive practice, representational intersectionality thrives on exclusion and only benefits a few of the whole.

Crenshaw’s theory positions larger discussions about human rights and economic inequality together in a way that asks individuals to actively recognize bodies unlike their own. Other Black academics have written and published theories similar to Crenshaw that do not receive proper recognition. Audre Lorde, bell hooks, and Adrienne Rich, to name just a few, have contributed to the feminist movement in attempt to dismantle its white supremacist origins. Audre Lorde’s book The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House outlines how working within an established system will not enact change. In a popular excerpt from her work, Lorde shows how dismantling systems meant to benefit the oppressor is the only way to truly create a more equitable future. Black women have progressed feminism to include fights against racism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and any other identity beyond women’s rights. First wave feminism and current third wave feminism do not look alike because of the work of Black women.

By reading Black feminist literature I began thinking outside of myself. It illuminated the fact that my early education thrived upon white liberal feminism. For example, discussions of racism and sexism were never held in tandem at my high school – they were always separate. Reading through Instagram posts on an account created for BIPOC students and graduates of my high school, I am forced to remember moments of racial violence that I could afford to forget. For instance, I had forgotten about a conversation centering around the n-word that occurred during my time at school. Just because the chosen text for English class - Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison – includes the word does not give white people the right to say such a heavy word with a violent history. I am ashamed to have forgotten that conversation occurred, but I share this moment with you to reiterate that my privilege as a white woman necessitates my conscious effort to be anti-racist in everything I do.

The realization that my feminism was not actually liberating for all women forced me to confront and admit my privilege in an uncomfortable way. It was, and is, my social responsibility to shift my privileged world view and incorporate more Black voices into the academic work I read and the media I consume. The fortified walls of my predominately white California suburb enabled a harmful and sheltered mindset. To see beyond myself and my own body as a woman, made me critically examine how I was able to move through the world. I had to acknowledge positionality as a benefactor of my lived experience.

Without intersectionality, my feminism would not have manifested the same way it did four years ago, and I understand it to mean immense growth, progress, and change. However, please understand I am not claiming to be perfect. I still have a lot of learning and growing to do. With that said, I do owe a lot of my current outlook to my introductory Gender, Women, and Sexuality Studies courses. The classes I have taken within the discipline have always pushed me and I recommend that everyone take a similar class if given the opportunity.

I call on my friends, family, and non-Black peers to confront your prejudice and engagement in a system that benefits you at the cost of oppressing others, particularly Black women. Self-reflection and critical analysis of past behaviors or interactions is hard. However, it cannot prevent you from engaging in this current cultural conversation. We are at a pivotal moment where white people are finally listening to what Black people have been saying for years. Ask questions, have difficult conversations with family, sincerely apologize when called out, and continue to educate yourself. Find platforms that provide resources and information and always be cognizant if you are asking for the intellectual and emotional labor of a Black friend! They are not your educator. Look at academic articles on JSTOR, which should be free because of the current pandemic, and follow Instagram accounts like @shityoushouldcareabout and @soyouwanttotalkabout. These Instagram accounts post mini slideshows on pertinent social and political issues.

Linked below are a few sources I have found helpful and would recommend taking the time to read:

Kimberlé Crenshaw’s Mapping the Margins essay

“With Whom Do You Believe Your Lot is Cast?” White Feminists and Racism – Kimberly Christensen

For Stanton, All Women Were Not Created Equal (NPR article)

Instagram slides on passive apologies

Instagram slides on how to give a good apology

Instagram post listing covert forms of white supremacy with additional links

In solidarity,

Anna

Music snob, over-protective mom-friend, and avocado toast connoisseur.