S.E. Smith writes on unproductive language policing in online activism:
[T]here's an interesting trend I am noticing in online activism where language is being used for pro forma activism, and a form of dog whistling; ‘I corrected you about the use of [word] in your post, so I'm an ally to [community] and my work here is done!' Often, this becomes a tool for derailment, where suddenly people are talking exclusively about a person's language choices, and not engaging with substantive content. A very solid discussion and argument is neatly dismissed and ignored because one person says ‘but you used a bad word in the fifth paragraph, and now we all have to argue about it until you have abased yourself sufficiently to satisfy us.'
I see this perhaps most strikingly with disability. I sort of get the impression that some people seem to think that the bulk of disability activism is about running around correcting the words people use, and you can stop there. That's all that needs to be done. They ignore commentary from disability rights activists pointing out that language is not the problem, it's a symptom of a problem.
The trend is certainly not confined to disability-rights circles. For many people, signing online petitions, commenting on blog posts, sharing articles and videos, corralling friends to make phone calls to fight nasty legislation is their activism. I am not much of an Internet commenter, but I can imagine the sense of accomplishment that accompanies such an act of defiance. It cannot be everything, but it is certainly something.
I want to defend the spirit of these sorts of critiques Smith describes, if not their execution. Being progressive means living with the added responsibility to be as inclusive as possible, which itself requires becoming informed and opening up others to their blind spots. So much effort! On the Internet, it often becomes a matter of people engaging others around labels and descriptors of disenfranchised communities. Holding people accountable this way is a tiny way of defending communities that are overlooked or debased elsewhere. Whether folks do it gently or brusquely or even productively, is up to them.
I once was scolded by a commenter for my use of the phrase "black and brown neighborhoods" in a piece discussing communities of color that are policed extra hard. I used the word "brown" as code for Latino, Arab, Middle Eastern, Muslim, South Asian, and those who are perceived as such. The commenter wrote (I can quote her because she also sent me an e-mail with the same lines attached): "Black and brown is the name of a soda fountain drink. This 'Black and brown' descriptor -- relatively new to me -- looks like something straight out of mainstream liberal land. Don't go there."
The comment stung, but it made me pause. In the communities I run in, it is an insult to hail from "mainstream liberal land," whose most tiresome members are "white liberals," itself another pejorative. White liberals are the people who purport to care about inclusion but only deign to invite people of color to the table when it's convenient for them. White liberals are the people who are all about the idea of diversity but can't stomach people of color's demands for equity. The comment was a dig, and I took it as a reminder of the limits of my own perspective. I went to public schools filled with mostly white and Asian-American kids, and at home I don't remember talking explicitly about race all that much. I'm also fifth-generation Chinese American, and grew up in an upper-middle-class family with parents who are college-educated professionals. I've benefited from class and certain race privileges which, left unchallenged, mean I walk around with plenty of ignorance about the experiences of other people of color.
The commenter ended her note with her actual lesson: "Say clearly who you are talking about and give people the respect not to be lumped into 'brown' because they are not Black or white."
I certainly didn't enjoy being chastised publicly but that was helpful advice to hear. Ultimately, my position on the phrase didn't move much. The usage of it depends so much on the context, and I believe it is still an accurate and quick code for communities of color that receive extra police attention. I've nevertheless become very vigilant about my usage of the phrase since. When I need absolute clarity, which is often, I end up going for specificity instead of concision.
Holding each other accountable is the unspoken pact progressives have with each other. Smith is right; it's never just about the words. It's about all the ideas and experiences behind them.
