The Green Chair

Urban Dictionary describes being ‘cancelled’ as “a modern internet phenomenon where a person is ejected from influence or fame by questionable actions. It is caused by a critical mass of people who are quick to judge and slow to question. It is commonly caused by an accusation, whether that accusation has merit or not. It is a direct result of the ignorance of people-caused communication technologies outpacing the growth in available knowledge of a person.”

If you’re on social media, you know about cancel culture, and odds are if you are on social media and in your 20s, you were likely on social media since the birth of many larger platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram - while you were a kid. Youtuber Tiffany Ferguson discusses the importance of reflecting on these old posts that you have made over the years and potentially cleaning them out to avoid embarrassment, or having your life ruined. “Our old posts can be weaponized against us” (Ferguson), though this is not to say that all ‘cancelling’ is bad - sometimes it is warranted. For example when a white rapist is given a prison sentence shorter than a person of colour receives for a one time charge for possession of marijuana. As a society, many of us see that this is wrong and will declare our own quest for justice, making sure that this person doesn’t ‘get away’ with their crime, even if the broken justice system declares otherwise.

Given this situation, there are also contrasting accounts of cancel culture being implemented where people are cancelled for things they have posted online in the past, and not necessarily said or done recently. As someone who documented their entire childhood and teenage years on Facebook, Twilight obsession and all, it would not be difficult to find something that I no longer agree with or identify with on my profile. I think the importance lies in distinguishing the need to hold people accountable for their actions and acknowledge mistakes, versus the reactionary response of cancelling which has no real remedy. Nobody can take back what they have said in the past, but the likelihood that a person has evolved since they were 12-16 years old is very high. This is especially true when there is so much influence from ideological state apparatus’ which have the intent to promote ideas of capitalism, colonialism and white supremacy onto its citizens through systems like education and media. In order to disrupt these systems of power, we need to become aware of them, and though it would be great if we all knew about these oppressive apparatus’ as soon as we start spewing nonsense, that is often not how life works. I know it took me a long time to learn not just how I was being oppressed but also about how I was being complicit in systems oppression which would not directly affect me.

If current posts and actions display problematic material, then that is another story. But the idea of cancel culture for past actions promotes the idea that people cannot make mistakes, change, or therefore learn from those mistakes. There is great danger in looking at people as just ‘offenders,’ and we can see it on a greater scale than just social media. For example, Canada’s prison system - as a research assistant for the U of A Prison Project, I have had the opportunity to see this through a different lens, and through my experiences I have come to understand that this is exactly how the government sees inmates; as just offenders, incapable of change, the burden of society. Almost 100% of these folks are also victims – of their own past trauma or generational trauma, a toxic and ineffective child welfare system, the normalization of unhealthy relationships, and more.This is part of the reason why the system is so flawed (also systematic racism #yikes), because rehabilitation and reintroduction to society is important, otherwise our society is not productive, nor is it progressive.

*Trigger warning

“She stared at the quilted blue seat while a river of tears poured down her cheeks and over her lips.

Ignoring the glances from the woman across from her, she sat frustrated with herself - why could she not clearly communicate what she was feeling? What had she done? How had she made the man who loves her feel so sad and how could she think that the man she loves would leave her if she could not give him her body?

How could she attempt to push him away and hurt him in the process?

Because of me, her rapist whispered.

She shivered in response to the feeling of the harsh breath on her ear.

The sidewalk blurred as another tear fell, this time trailing down the lines of her face towards her bare neck.

Her mind dizzied with the clutter of flashbacks she was still haunted by every few weeks, fiercely hurrying to push them away and fill the void with something else.

Shame. Guilt. It’s not an excuse.

The internet is an interesting place. You encounter many different viewpoints, and I find that it can be a useful tool for calling out ignorance and privilege. Whether that ignorance is someone else’s or your own, there the ability lies to create a learning experience. Through sharing on social media, our generation has begun to de-stigmatize and de-normalize habits and social norms that have been ingrained in us through our upbringings, external societal customs, and the people we surround ourselves with. One of the ways in which I see Twitter, is a platform of both modern storytelling and opinion pieces. It can be a great device in recognizing how we benefit from systems of oppression, hopefully changing the way we behave and think about these things, and become strong allies to movements we support. That being said, Nick Offerman’s face photoshopped onto every character in the opening credits of Full House is also something you can find on Twitter. It’s a mixed bag.

I recently encountered a tweet where it was being implied that some white people were of the belief that being gay absolved them of their white privilege, and therefore could not be racist because they were being oppressed through some source. As that is clearly a very flawed (and unfortunately, common) understanding of oppression, I responded with an attempt to clarify how interlocking oppression works. For example, being queer myself, I face challenges that a straight person necessarily wouldn’t, but as a white person who is queer, I face less challenges (both in quantity and intensity) than say, a person of colour who is queer, whom is also subjected to racism - both on a systemic and individual level. Of course the concept goes beyond that depth, and there are more layers and variance within those consequent layers. To quote one of my favourite YouTubers, “There are levels to this shit” (I Am Eloho).

This is where I want to bring the discussion towards colorism - a phenomenon that is clouded with intersectional oppressions and discrimination, often plagued within and across all marginalized communities which contain spectrums of skin tone.

The multiple oppressions that all Black people face is undeniable, there is no doubt. In spite of this oppression, there can also be collectives within racialized groups that carry privileges - for example, Black men being of the ‘dominant sex.’ What comes with this privilege is often blindness or ignorance to the additional oppression and discrimination that less privileged people within the community face.

This is not to say however that Black men are the only members of the Black community exhibiting colourist thought towards the women OR that they do not experience colourism themselves. Many people also experience colourism from friends and people in their family due to these same internalizations. My focus lies solely on dissecting the experience of colourism from women in the Black community, their unique perspective, and the complexity of it.

The commentary from Black women on this topic has flooded over social media, especially by dark skinned Black women. Many of my close friends and family have also spoken on the topic. There have been worldwide debates on Twitter that literally pose lighter skinned and dark skinned people from the same race against each other, and also more complex debates about how hair types of black women are an important aspect of the way that they experience colorism.

“It’s hard enough being the lowest on the love pyramid and having to constantly convince the world that I am beautiful but having to convince those who you’d assume should be able to see your beauty already is even harder and perhaps even a worst heart break” (Lauriane M).

What Lauriane talks about as being the ‘lowest on the love pyramid’ is something I wanted to investigate further. Specifically how Black women are seen by the opposite sex and Black men’s role in the colourism of Black women.

“It’s something that people within our own race are still so ignorant about. Men don’t see that they’re prejudice or discriminating against dark skin women. Because of society and culture they don’t want to explicitly say it, using ‘thats my preference’ as a cover up” (Kaiha M).

As Kaiha describes, relying on the notion of preference for partners of certain races can be dangerous, and result in phenomenon like ‘yellow fever’ or ‘jungle fever,’ whether intentional or not.

“Take a beautiful darker skinned woman, compare her to an average lighter skinned woman, share that picture to men, more men will choose the lighter skinned women because they see it as a power grab. They also have that insecurity within themselves. ‘OK I’m getting a white female’ or a mixed female; has the black features but she also has fair skin, looser texture of hair coloured eyes, colonialist version of beauty mixed in with the Black features, so in a way think that they’re winning” (Kaiha M).

The insecurity that some Black men have within themselves that Kaiha references can also be looked at as the internalizing of racism and intergenerational trauma - from colonization, eras of slavery, modern-day police brutality and discrimination. Being of a lighter skin tone was always associated with wealth, success, being of a higher class, and it also often meant safety. We all know that governments and institutions built on white supremacy and colonialism protect and praise fair people. Does that make it okay for Black men to continue to discriminate Black women, or dark skin women, and continue the thought that deems them worth less? Do I really need to answer that?

The problem is, when some Black men are questioned about this, they react kind of similarly to the way the aforementioned gay white people thought they could not be oppressive, because they were being oppressed. The conflict is met with both denial and misunderstanding of how oppression works. It can also be very upsetting to realize you are contributing to a system of oppression that also oppresses you, speaking from experience.

This treatment is not coincidence, but calculated, and damaging to Black women of all shades. It can also make lighter skinned women feel as if they don’t belong to the Black community, creating isolation and tension between sisters – “I wanted to distance myself from Blackness” (Yawa I).

“My hairdresser is Sudanese, and they are often at the end of the spectrum, as in they are the darkest shade of black. Not only was she expressing how hard it is for her to fight against the rest of us black girls but because she’s not as dark (big misconception that all Sudanese people are dark) she gets hate from her own family. She’s not light enough to be part of the world and she’s not dark enough to be identified as being part of her own community” (Lauriane M).

As many women of colour agree that colorism isn’t talked about enough, I wanted to bring light to the topic because it affects my community and women I care about. “It’s a toxic mentality – especially when you’re young and growing up and don’t see a lot of people that look like you” (Yawa I).

Social media can often be looked at as damaging, but it is useful for some things. I think sharing these experiences of voices that are too often marginalized or ignored is an important part of its use – especially with things that are difficult to talk about and address. As Yawa continues, it can also help with representation – “Seeing examples in media or real life where it’s true that your skin is beautiful and there are people that look like you that are doing great things” (Yawa I).

Through the analysis of the theoretical flaws in the real communities around us, making those problems known and denaturalizing them is how change can happen. Most often, analysis within our own trauma cycles and internalizations are also necessary for change.

“Having me reinforcing colourism myself was 10x worse than any Black guy’s ‘racial preference’ – overtime I have been able to accept my skin and realize that lighter skin is not better than darker skin or anything like that, and I try my best not to reinforce those notions” (Yawa I).