This is imperfect, and incomplete. I’m new, as activist, as feminist. New in my anti-racism self-education, self-evaluation, expressions, actions. But today – the same day that I kicked off this project to use the creation of art as a way to heal from trauma – calling myself in matters.
I unequivocally condemn R. Kelly as someone who abused his power as an artist AND benefited from systems of white supremacy that negate, excuse, and sanction the violation of Black womxn and gxrls.
The art is the source of the artist’s power; art and artist are one. Artists cannot hide behind art. We cannot let them. Cannot let ourselves.
And this:
Art is not an excuse to fetishize Black womxn’s bodies or sexualize Black children. Ever.
The choice by adult Black womxn to express their sexuality (through art and in life) in any manner they please is NOT license to objectify, appropriate, or co-opt their selfhood. Ever.
Using art to work through your own trauma and abuse does not give you permission – in art or in life – to traumatize and abuse others. Ever.
I’ve spoken before on the confluence of believing all survivors, yet acknowledging the racism that supports white womxn falsely accusing Black men of sexual violence. But this conversation is not about racism against Black men, even though Robert Kelly is Black.
I wasn’t a fan, so I have no struggle regarding his art. But Bill Cosby’s art (his role as Dr. Huxtable and his standup) was part of my childhood; releasing my enjoyment of his work took time. I admired Kevin Spacey’s talent as an actor, but his targets could have been, could still be, my own young adult children. I appreciate Eminem’s linguistic gift, but cannot support the racism and misogyny he embodies. There are countless other instances, other ideologies.
It’s a process, letting go of art, mourning our enjoyment of it. Considering my support of an individual’s humor, lyrics, character expression, character-period. Asking myself who profits (not just financially), who’s harmed by its existence. Deciding it’s not worth it. I can find other art, other entertainment, other things to move me.
Because I believe survivors. While I engage in critical thinking, using all available information, I will always err on the side of trusting victims of sexual violence. And I believe not only that Black lives matter, but that they need to matter more, because our society continues to demonstrate that they matter less.
Feeling called in today (indirectly, through observation of conversations, as well as by friend’s simple sharing of a relevant Twitter thread), when I’ve just launched a creative healing journey for survivors – for ALL survivors – is particularly poignant, and necessary. When non-BIPOC followers question anti-racism in my platforms (e.g. DMs stating my posts about Cyntoia Brown were “diluting my message”), I remind them that these things are inextricable.
That there’s no choosing to stay in familiar, comfortable places; how could that serve any of us? That I can’t let convenience run the show. That being white means I have the privilege of choosing to opt out, which is exactly why I can’t, and won’t. That THIS is intersectionality – not a buzzword endpoint, but an ongoing process I’ve committed to, not just in this work, but away from the shield of screens and usernames. In life.
If you’re not OK with that, then my journey isn’t for you.
Much love,
Jess
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