Redirect the focus from marginalized people... back to you

It's not all about you.  M'kay?

The next time you get the urge to share "that one time that you almost kinda sorta *knew* what it was like" to live in said marginalized person's shoes... censor yourself. 

There are all kinds of ways that people can be discriminated against:  Fatphobia, transphobia, homophobia, racism, shadeism, misogyny, age-related, ableism, right handed bias, religious intolerance, height discrimination, lookism, classism... the list goes on for days.

Most folks would insist that they fit in at least one or two of the categories of discriminated populations, some people could fit in many more than a handful.  Even if you are practically a card carrying member of one population that is routinely mistreated, your street cred does not carry over into another group in which you are not a part of.  Let me repeat this:  Your marginalization is not a 2-for-1 deal.

For example: An obese man knows what it's like to be a obese man operating in society.  However, since he does not have the experience of an obese woman operating in the same society, he will not be able to empathize with said obese woman on an existential level.  Sure he can sympathize because they both share in the attribute of their large size, but he cannot empathize with her on being a woman, much less, a large woman.

You feel me?

Whenever you try to make your form of oppression relevant in a situation that does not involve you, what ends up happening is that the people who, for once, had the floor are now silenced yet again, as you stampede your way into the spotlight.   Privileged people tend to do this all. the. time.  I will admit that I've done it in the past, although I continue to strive for heightened awareness in that aspect.  Actually, I will share an incident that I should have and could have known better than to do what I did... but still did it anyway.

In a Saturday seminar class called "Queer Theory" taught by one of my most favorite lecturers, Dr. David Tripp, the floor was opened up to discussion, and somehow, I thought it would be an appropriate time to whine about how products geared for women are routinely priced higher than the comparable gender neutral (aka male oriented) products.  I, a straight ciswoman, took time away from the other sexual minorities in the class, for what should have been time for them to speak about their experiences unhindered by extraneous rhetoric.   The second the words left my mouth, I knew I just did what the title of this post is saying not to do. 

I am a woman.  A black woman.  Who is straight.  Who also has no business dominating a discussion created for those who do not and cannot live in this heteronormative world as a straight person.  I learned a very big lesson that day.  Yes, I have and do experience episodes of discrimination because of my black woman-ness, but I also experience the insidious privilege of being a straight woman who is married and has no social penalty for discussing it openly.  I don't have to think twice about that stuff.  But a lot of other people out there do.

So, at the end of all this, what I'm saying is, the next time you want to play Oppression Olympics... stop.  Take a look at your audience, and then look back at yourself.  Would you be depriving other individuals from benefiting in that space if you shared your personal story?  Do your personal anecdotes add any value to the discussion, or is it dimply a derailment?   We all have the itch to add a personal trinket to highly charged discussions from time to time, but it takes a lot of self control to check that privilege.  We could all stand to exercise that kind of control a little more often.