Monday, September 1, 2014

Finding a Space of Authoring...

Finding a "Space of Authoring" in Student Affairs  

"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered." - Nelson Mandela 

Over the past few days I have received a lot of confirmation and affirmations that I made the right decision to come home. I have decided to leave Peace Corps for my health, my family, and my career goals. My core values are faith, family, service before self, and excellence in all I do. I truly attest to the fact that I have matured over the course of the past year. So many events have occurred that allowed me to grow and mature into a better human being. I feel full, satisfied, and accomplished. I know that God has a plan for my life and He will provide for me in the near future. He would not have brought me this far without a plan. Although I may not know all that it entails, I trust Him and my faith is in him. For all I trust him! 

"In the midst of our lives, we must find the magic that makes our souls soar!" For me that magic is higher education and student affairs. That magic is my passion for my career. I'm very career oriented and focused on my professional development. My outlook on life is to gain progressive skills in education. Once I have attained the skills and assets that I think are necessary, it's time to move on. Feelings of uncertainty and anxiety about my professional career are unhealthy and will cause me to be ineffective. That being said, it is time to move on. 

I came back to America to continue to pursue my career in higher education as a student affairs professional and focus on my family. That's what I plan to do. It's important to ask, "what needs to be done now?" My passions in life are student engagement and  student development. I think it is important to gain experiences that align with my passion. By gaining various experiences I can craft the type of person I desire to be, both professionally and personally. I strongly believe in developing professional and personal identities to frame a new self-understanding. There is a space of authoring that allows one to write one's self into the world in a particular way. This space of authoring is the ability for people to make sense of themselves through multiple internal dialogues or conversations with the self. Talking to yourself can be healthy. It is important to take some time to unpack what is important to you at any juncture in life. I think it is also important to ask yourself, "what are the next steps to get to where I see myself?" In other words, what are things that I need to do today to get to where I want to be tomorrow. 

People must make choices to accept, reject, or negotiate the social identities that are presented in the world. I can't live life passively answering the questions of the world. I must be active and engage the world head on. I see the ability to frame my identity and to make meaning of myself as a liberatory practice that allows me to be free to become whoever I chose to be. 

Authorship is a matter of orchestration where the individual uses their social resources to craft appropriate responses in the time and space available to them. As a space of "answerability" where authoring the self is a requirement. The questions of the world must be answered, it is not a choice. 

I like who I am becoming. I am more mature, wiser, stronger, and better. I choose to author my life in such a way that allows me to be liberated in mind, body, soul, and spirit. I choose to become a student affairs professional who advocates the consciousness of social justice issues. 

Monday, June 16, 2014

Reflections on Development Work

Zora Neale Hurston stated in her book Dust Tracks on a Road, that "research is a formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose. It is a seeking that he who wishes may know the cosmic secrets of the world and they that dwell therein." I am reading Hurston's autobiography and she is describing her times of research of Black life in the south. In this particular chapter, she describes the process of anthropology, ethnography and qualitative research. She states that one needs to find a vocation - a calling - that has a "soul in it." As I think about my  growing career, I should avoid things that have no soul, no purpose, and no life. That simply means that I should commit my life to something that has a purpose and fulfills a deep craving in my soul while meeting the needs of the world. Aristotle once said, "where the needs of the world and your talents cross path, there is your vocation." The word vocation is interesting. Vocation speaks of a divine calling to a particular career or station in life. 

Cornel West stated, "don't tell me about your career, tell me about your vocation - your life's calling." I must live a life that has a soul in it. I must, as Hurston described, "tell the tales, sing the songs, do the dances and repeat the raucous sayings and doings of the Negro farthest down." She stated that "truthfully they are utterly sincere in living," I relate this statement to working, living, and learning among any person living in a developing country. They truly have a sincere way of living. 

I believe I have found my vocation. After a meeting a few weeks ago, I had some thoughts and reflections. I think my biggest take away from the meeting is that we should really pay attention and listen to the people we are serving. I realized that volunteers may have great ideas and experiences to add to the conversation but that means nothing to what we can learn from the people. It is more important to listen and hear what the people want than for one to make policy decisions without the input of others who are impacted by said policy. You cannot make policy without hearing from the people at the grassroots level. More importantly, you cannot move ahead of the people before they are ready; wait for them. In this field of education and development you have to go at the pace of the people. You have to listen to the various stakeholders and consider their opinions first. 

The buzzword in development work is sustainability. It's a buzzword because everyone says it but not everyone knows what it means. If they don't know what it means than they don't know what it should look like. It is a term that must be unpacked. Development should be participatory, inclusive, people centered, capacity building, process focused and sustainable. But what does that mean? What does that look like? I had the privilege to attend this meeting and truly understand those key factors in development work. I was able to see things from their perspective and it confirmed that I am making a difference. 

Everyone had a voice and buy in on the project. I was able to see real people that were impacted by policy. Real people should remain in our focus. We must ensure that the people we serve are building on their own strengths. We must empower the people through the process and focus less on the product. It is hoped that there will be some level of continuity with the work we are doing. But we have to remain humble. As a result, we should continue to listen to our constituents who are at the grassroots level. That is where the real change is happening. That's where the real work is being done. That's where the difference happens. There are thousands of people in the developing world who are ready for change, calling for hope, and eager to work for their country. One person can make a change. That person can touch ten people. Those ten people will reach one hundred. One hundred people will reach ten thousand. It all starts with one voice, one action, and one hope to build others! Let's get out there, roll up our sleeves and make a difference. 

The truth is that we are not yet free; we have merely achieved the freedom to be free, the right not to be oppressed... For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others. - Nelson Mandela 

Monday, June 9, 2014

Long Walk To Freedom

If you have been following my blog, you will notice that my blogs are not always directly related to my Peace Corps experience. In fact, my blogs are a result of my own personal reflections and thoughts based on very personal experiences that I have had thus far. I choose not to be confined to discuss the interesting things that happen throughout my day or to vent my frustrations. On the contrary, I try to post things that are stimulating, educational, and beneficial to all readers. This particular post does just that. Over the last three months I have been reading a book that has left an indelible impression upon my life. That book is "Long Walk to Freedom," which is the autobiography of Nelson Mandela. 

I traveled to Cape Town, South Africa during my April holiday. It was truly a life changing experience that I had to write about it twice. If you recall, my last post was also about Cape Town. However, I focused on my trip to the Slave Lodge and the psychological experience I had. I thought it necessary to write this blog to express my feelings of my trip to Robben Island, visiting Madiba's cell, and reading his book thereafter. Through the life of Nelson Mandela I have learned the importance of freedom of political rights and education as a means of liberation. 

Going to the prison cell of Nelson Mandela was truly life changing. The biggest take away for me is that Mandela and the other senior leaders wrote letters and political literature to younger inmates who were members of the Black Conscious Movement and other organizations. The letters educated the other inmates on the African National Congress' (ANC) policies and goals to pursue a multicultural, nonracial, one man-one vote South Africa. It was through the passing of notes that those who did have a formal education became educated. As a result, those who entered prison with no education received an education comparable to any doctoral holder at the time. 

In essence, Madiba gave back and paid it forward through education while being a political prisoner. The policies of apartheid held him in prison for 27 years. But what impressed me the most was his insatiable desire to pursue education. He continued to read books and pursue a degree when such privileges were allowed. I believe my life has been impacted by the life of Madiba and his desire to pursue education. 

He stated that education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world. I am now comitted to educate other in the spirit of Madiba. I realize that "an educated man can never be oppressed because he can think for himself." Mandela had taught me that "It is important for freedom fighters to remain in touch with his own roots," to effectively bring about change for his own people. I am learning that 'a degree is not in itself a guarantee of leadership and that it means nothing unless one went out into the community to prove oneself.' 

As I continue to grow, I realize that it is important to be in the community working with the people you seek to serve. As a Peace Corps volunteer this is a great realization. Sustainable development is participatory, inclusive, people centered, and has a bottom-up approach. It is prudent for development work to focus on empowering people to make decisions for themselves using skills that they already have. Visiting Robben Island and reading his book has changed my life forever. 

Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika! 

Monday, April 28, 2014

A conversation with the ancestors...

During my recent trip to Cape Town, South Africa (April 21-27, 2014), I believe I had an experience that was spiritual, cultural, and educational. It was an immersion into culture and education that tapped into the deepest part of my spirit. The experience was like no other. One would have to be there to feel it. It was almost as if there was a portal that transcended space and time. It was almost as if the spirit of the ancestors reached out from the bottom of slave ships and spoke to me. They spoke to the most intimate part of my being. They touched my soul.

I visited the Robben Island Museum, the Museum of South Africa, and the Slave Lodge. The Slave Lodge was so powerful that I had to go back a second time. Something was calling me back to that place - to sit, to learn, and to be taught the history of a people long ago subjected to forced labour due to the color of their skin. Archbishop Desmond Tutu wrote, "None of us is truly free while other remain enslaved. The continuing existence of slavery is one of the greatest tragedies facing our global humanity. Today, we finally have the means and increasingly the conviction to end this scourge and to bring millions of slaves to freedom." Let us never forget and realize that modern day slavery exist in Brazil, Haiti, Niger, Mozambique, India, Pakistan, Nepal and Albania.

In the Slave Lodge, there was an exhibit called the Column of Memory. On the rings of the column were the names of slaves who, as property of the Dutch East India Company, were confined in the dark, damp and prison like spaces of the Slave Lodge. On the wall was inscribed, "in light of memory and remembering, through the streams of our senses, reconnecting, recollecting, WE FIND OUR WAY HOME." I was extremely moved beyond words and in tears. I had a moment of silence and said thank you. 

I realize and recognize that they are not my direct ancestors. However, I feel that African Americans stem from a pool of ancestry that is connected to the heart of Africa. In this pool of ancestry, the grandmothers and the grandfathers spoke to me. They spoke to me of their dream. In their dream they saw me. In this dream they gave me a gift. As they died in the sea of slavery, I was born to freedom. I am REBORN in freedom through this experience. I am reborn to self-knowledge... Man know thyself! I am reborn. Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave. I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise! 

An audio voice over played repeatedly a poem called, "Slave Dream." This is what they shared with me:

Slave Dream by Malkia Ndlovu 

If this journey ever ends,
If we ever, 
we will remember these days.
We will not forget these endless days.

Here in the fever of our fears,
The ache of our uncertainties, 
We plead, we plead and pray,
We pray.

All inside us is the light,
In the light of memory and remembering, 
Through the streams of our senses,
Reconnecting, Recollecting,
We find our way home, home.

I am home. I can return.
We return.
Return,
Return.

There is only light inside us,
As we cross this ocean of swallowed bones,
Wash ourselves and each other in tears, rise above the tide of our fears, the tide of our fears. 

We dream, we dream
And in the dream, I see you.
I see you, I feel you. 
Remember me, remember me, dream. 
Remember me, remember, remember.

And in the dream we are free. 
In the dream we are free. 
Walk with me. I know where we can hide, inside the light.
Inside there is light.

Come. Come with me, come.
Come with me.
Come.
Come.

I believe, I see in the dark, I know,
I know from this deep shadowy pool of genes, of ancestry, of spirit, and tongue - a NEW thread in the family is begun.

A new thread in the family has begun, from this pool will come,
Our daughters and our sons,
OUR DAUGHTERS AND OUR SONS.

They will come, they will come.
We are the seed, they are the dream. 
Our dream.
They are our dream.

If, if this journey ever ends,
If ever, if ever we feel the land and still we breath, see the sun,
Still, still the time must come
When we will die and they will be BORN!

Through each other, through each one we will live,
Through each one we will live, our souls retrieved, 
I do believe, will you, will you believe?
Believe me, believe, believe, believe, believe, believe.

We are the human vessel for a spirit that knows no death, 
For a spirit that knows no death. 
Each century continues our breath.
We conquer the seas of sorrow, 
Transcend the boundaries of time. 

Tomorrow, tomorrow our children,yours and mine, will be mirrors.
Tomorrow our children will be mirrors of you and I. 

They will remember you. They will remember you. Remember me. Remember you. Remember me.
Remember, remember, remember, remember, remember.

Where ever this journey ends, theirs begins,
Where ever, theirs begins
We are the seed, they are the dream. 

Our dream. We are the seed. They are our dream. Our dream. Dream. Dream. Dream. Dream. Dream.

Believe. Dream.

- Eugene 


Photo: Let's continue to be aware and knowledgable of modern slavery. Most importantly, let us find avenues to combat human trafficking, sexual exploitation, debt bondage, child labour, and thee forms of slavery. Never Forget!


Photo: Never forget! Today I visited the Slave Lodge in South Africa to find a place of healing. This is the Column of Memory. On the rings of the column you will find a selection of the names of slaves who were property of the Dutch East India Company. They were confined in the dark, damp and prison-like spaces of the Slave Lodge. Behind the column, on the wall, and in the audio system was the poem "Slave Dream" by Malika Ndlovu. (The poem was repeating every 5 minutes). The most powerful line that pierced my heart and soul was: "In the light of memory and remembering. Through the streams of our senses. Reconnecting. Recollecting. We... find... our... way... home. I... am... home..." #powerful #moving #knowthyself



Thursday, March 20, 2014

The Namibian Funeral

In total I've attended 6 memorial/funeral/burial services in two months. In Namibia, it is the culture to have a memorial service the night before the burial. I say funeral because it is something that we, in America, can relate to. I have attended two burial services for four separate people. I have attended five memorial services for those same people. The first service was for a teacher colleague of mine who passed away at the beginning of school term. At this service, there was another gentlemen who had passed away. I assumed that it was because of funeral costs that it would make sense to have one service for two people at the same time. The second memorial service was more of a challenge to deal with. Two former students of my school passed away after a fight at a bar. My community and school were hit hard. It was hard to even teach that week. I will reserve any further comments out of respect. However, all memorial services followed a similar pattern as I will dictate from the first service.

The memorial service was held on a Friday night in February. When we arrived, we sat under a green tent that was at the front of the house. The family was gathered outside in the circle and I paid my respects to the family. An hour later I went with my principal to the morgue where the body laid. We began the procession to the house and then to the church. I had the honor of being a pall bearer to my colleague. The memorial service was held at 7pm. It roughly lasted about 4-5 hours. What was amazing about this service was that my school choir had sung a few selections while holding candles. They paid tribute through song. This was the most beautiful yet saddest day of my Peace Corps service. After the service was over, we brought the body back to the house. We proceeded to have a wake from 11pm until sunrise. It is culturally appropriate to attend the wake and stay up all night singing and dancing until the sun rises. The body was laid in the house for family and friends to pay respect. 

Outside of the house there was more singing, dancing, and music. The pianist played several songs while the guests sung in the local language. After 2 hours of singing and dancing, the family brought out food to be served to guests. They served tea in a tin cup, warm bread, and soup in a styrofoam bowl. It was a cold night so I really enjoyed that. If I had to guess there was about 350 people in attendance. Can you imagine? The family had to feed all 350 guests! It's customary and tradition to feed those who come to a memorial service. The reason behind that is it acknowledges and respect the person's effort to show attend the memorial service. It is also because people are hungry after a 4 hour service. I noticed that the services were very family oriented and emphasized the role of the community. The community really supports those who have lost a loved one(s). It was incredible to see a big family eat together after the service.

In the morning I arose at 630 to be sure to make it to the 7am service. We arrived just in time as the preacher began the message. It lasted about 2 hours. This service is for the last viewing of the body. We walked around the body and paid our last respect. Thereafter we traveled to the burial site which was 5K away. At 10am the burial service began and there was more singing and dancing. The school choir sang beautifully. What was most memorable from this event was that we all got in a line and passed the grave as the casket was lowered. We grabbed a hand full of dirt and threw it in the grave as the gravediggers shoveled dirt into the grave. 

For me this was so symbolic as a human being. Death and funerals always remind me of my own humanity and frailty. It was a humbling experience. As I grabbed the dirt, my dirt touched his dirt and I was in solidarity with his life and death. The symbolism is powerful. Of course this may done in the states as well. It all depends on who you ask. But to see 350 people throw dirt into the grave was divine. I remembered that we are just passive creatures moving from womb to tomb trying to find meaning and purpose in this life. I questioned what does it mean to be human? This is the question of the ages. What is it all for? Why am I here? I often think of Plato's Apology where Socrates stated that "the unexamined life is not worth living." Have you ever seen the date of birth and the date of death on a tomb stone? When you think about it, we are just living in the dash!

After the burial service we traveled back to the home of the bereaved. We all sat in a circle and chatted. This was the first time I saw people laugh during the weekend. The somber occasion requires one to be without joy for the time being. We were again served food. I had chicken, potato salad, and carrots with tea. This had to have been the longest funeral I have ever attended too. 

Although I did not want to go to these events, I am grateful that I did. I learned so much about the culture, the tradition and the people that I am serving. The San/Bushmen (Hei //om) are a beautiful people. One needs to live among them to understand them. Through these events I continue to understand my purpose in life: to serve others, to serve the least of these, to love justice, to pursue righteousness and defend the poor. To give voice to those who remain silent and name what hurts. I endeavor to live the Matthew 25:34-40 kind of life. If I can borrow a few lines from Mahlia Jackson: 

"If I can help somebody as I pass along, if I can cheer somebody with a word or a song, if I can show somebody how their traveling wrong, then my living shall not be in vain."

- E. H. Smith, M. A. 

Friday, February 28, 2014

On "Passing"


In the book Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison poignantly wrote, "I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination, indeed, everything and anything except me." 

Research the term, "passing." This word for African Americans is a phrase that is ambiguous by negative or positive connotations. According to Randall Kennedy, "passing is a deception that enables a person to adopt certain roles or identities from which he would be barred from by prevailing social standards in the absence of misleading conduct" (2001)." A person who could "pass" for white was able to mingle and move between social groups without being detected. During the period of segregation, if a mother was of lighter complexion and able to pass through these circles she had access to places and things others of darker complexion may not have been privy too. 

I find myself in a peculiar situation and context. At times I find myself  being the invisible man in the room. At other times, I find that I am able to move through social circles that others may not have access to. Frequently, I find myself having to defend my blackness to Namibians or other Africans that I meet. In particular, I have to defend my African-American heritage. I am glad that I am able to educate the locals  but it always puts me in an awkward space. 

It is a little complicated. No, it's a lot complicated and multifaceted. I begin by explaining the Middle Passage, the Atlantic Slave Trade and the horrors of slavery. I tell people that my ancestors are traced back to slavery. Somewhere down the line someone decided to move to New York where majority of my family lives on my fathers side. My mother was born in Kingston, Jamaica and her mother was born in Jamaica. My great grandmother Nene Peart had the wisdom to send my grandmother and mother to America for a better life. The oral tradition of my mother's side traces our ancestry to West Africa, possibly Morocco. I have determined to test my DNA to find out my racial make up one day. At this point in my life race does not matter to me. I don't always see everything as racist. However, I am comfortable with the racial, cultural, and ethnic identity of African-American because that is who I am. I embrace my rich heritage  while moving forward establishing my own legacy. 

I speak English well so my accent tells people that I am not Namibian. I've been in spaces where people speak ill of other Namibians which highlights the effects of internal racism and tribalism. I have been in spaces where folks were down right rude to me. I have had stares from Afrikaners when I am in an establishment that is not frequented often by blacks. I have had stares by blacks when I began to speak proper  English. I have had a few unpleasant encounters that I won't mention. After all of this, I've come to the conclusion that it is not "cool" that I can enter some spaces that my Black Namibian friends cannot or  won't! I find myself being able to "pass" as an African American. 

People become generally warmer and engaging when they find out that I am American. At times, I don't speak just to see how people interact with me. I am silent and invisible in a crooked room trying to carve out how I am perceived. Call it naturalistic observation and qualitative research. Sadly, I've experienced more racism and internal racism here in Africa than I expected. I no longer have the romanticized longing that a sophomore college student attending a Historically Black College/University feels in a Black Diaspora class. Although at times I sit back, reflect and become humbled at the beauty of Africa and the African people. Yet, racism is everywhere. No matter what body perpetuates it covertly or overtly. Racism and patriarchy is a disease that we must wake up and fight each day when we walk out the door. "We must fight it until hell freezes over and then fight on the ice!" - Vertner W. Tandy

As a result, I am not speaking of passing from the physical sense. I am brown skinned depending on the month of the year. I speak of passing from the existential sensibility. It is not that my physical body passes but the nature of my being passes through several spaces and lenses multiple times a day. This is what it feels like to be an African American in Africa. I am just "passing." 

- Eugene Smith, M.A. 

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

On Becoming a Black Male Feminist: Challenging Male Privilege

"Since men are the primary agents maintaining and supporting sexism and sexist oppression, they can only be successfully eradicated if men are compelled to assume responsibility for transforming their consciousness and the consciousness of society as a whole." - bell hooks, 2004

Earlier this year, I wrote a piece where I stated that I was "slowly becoming a black male feminist." I mentioned that I was learning more about male privilege and oppression of women. Well, I can say for sure that I am a black male feminist. I always mention that I am "becoming" a feminist because I like to view as a process. It is a journey that I am taking to become a male feminist that actively challenges male privilege and seeks avenues to combat the oppression of women. I also say that I am becoming a feminist due to the fact that I do not want to state I know everything about it and ways to challenge male privilege and oppression. Becoming suggests that I am ever willing to read, to write, and to learn about feminism. I read bell hooks, Melissa Harris Perry, Patricia Hill Collins, and others for guidance and direction. I thought to write this blog to put "pen to paper," if you will, and confirm my beliefs and the things that I have learned thus far. I also see that writing this blog is an act of liberation and freedom to say, "yes I am a man, I am a male, and I am a black male feminist." I will attempt to write my thoughts will clarity. At best, these are half-baked thoughts because (as I stated) I am very new to this field. I will attempt to address issues related to privilege, men's adherence to hegemonic masculinity, and men's contradictory experiences of power. I will then outline strategies for becoming social justice allies within feminism and activism for women's rights.

It was in a class called "The Contemporary College Student," in the Fall of 2012. I was a second year graduate student in the Higher Education Administration program at Morgan State University. One of the books that we were required to read was called "Developing Social Justice Allies," by Reason, Broido, Davis, and Evans (2005). In chapter 3 of the book it discussed issues to increasing men's development of social justice attitudes and actions. I immediately gravitated to this chapter because it began to open my thinking and way of understanding to something I did not even know I had. It opened my understanding to male privilege and the oppression of women. The chapter began with a quote from bell hooks that stated, "After hundreds of years of anti-racist struggle, more than even before non-white people are currently calling attention to the primary role white people must play in anti-racist struggle. The same is true of the struggle to eradicate sexism - men have a primary role to play. (2004)"

Through this quote I began to understand that I have a privilege that I was not totally aware of. The issue with privilege is that people in the majority group may or may not recognize that they have a privilege. Privilege exists whether or not it is felt or recognized. It was through this class that I began to understand my privilege. The difficulty that I had with this concept is that I did not feel that I had earned the privilege. As a member of a minority group, I was not used to the idea that I had a privilege. It became apparent when my professor asked the class, "If you ever had to protect yourself from rape or sexual assault, step back" It was an ice breaker at the beginning of class in which those who stepped forward were privileged and those who stepped back were oppressed. After a list of questions, I realized that I had stepped forward when the other women in the class stepped backwards. It was critical moment in my development as an ally.

The next semester, I had the opportunity to hear Melissa Harris Perry speak at a conference I attended in Las Vegas, NV. She held a talk on her book, "Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in America." She discussed the impact that politics have had on Black Women in America. From the stereotypes of hypersexuality in the Jezebel, the subservient role of Mammy, and the emasculating anger of Sapphire, she dealt with the politics of recognition within the American society. African American women struggle with a crooked room in which they are forced to conform in order to be recognized. She mentioned the difficulty within the intersection of race, class, and gender stating that it is hard to be a Black Women in America. The Black Women in America already has two strikes against her, (1) she is black and (2) she is a woman. She states in her book, "As members of a stigmatized group, African American women lack opportunities for accurate, affirming recognition of the self and yet must contend with hypervisibility imposed by they lower social status." Using the concept of recognition, she discusses how "individuals from disempowered social groups desire recognition for their group but also want recognition of their distinctiveness from the group." How the collective Black Women in America are misrecognized in the public sphere impacts how the individual Black Woman is effected socially, economically, and politically.

The process of understanding who is harmed and who benefits provides the building blocks to understand privileges, disadvantages, and institutional oppression. As human beings, we struggle with the need to have our social and cultural experience validated and understood. There is an innate need to be recognized. However, gender based violence and violence against women are clear signs that women across the globe are being silenced by oppressive males. As I am becoming a male feminist, I understand that gender based violence, domestic violence, and adherence to hegemonic masculinity hurt both the man and the woman. Sexism hurts both parties. This is a critical moment for me as I am currently living in Namibia. I daily see the impacts of a patriarchal society and it's impact on women in Africa. My experiences in Namibia are opening my eyes to male privilege, hegemonic masculinity, and men's contradictory experience of power. "Becoming an alley to women means engaging men in reflecting about the ways the feminine is denigrated in both women and men. (Reason, 2005). Men are socialized to have control, power, and be competitive. The contradiction occurs when the individual male does not feel that he has control or power. On one end of the spectrum, men are privileged as a group, but as individuals, men fall short of hegemonic masculinity. It is suggested that there is an opportunities to promote social justice in men through men's privilege and pain. "The pain associated with such denial and the corresponding privilege conferred to men by patriarchy provide crucial clues for promoting the growth and development of attitudes consistent with social justice. (Reason, 2005).

So in order to become an activist for women's rights there are several ways to challenge male privilege and oppression of women. Firstly, "in the moment" actions can be used to confront statements that are sexist that are often overlooked. Secondly, in meetings where a man's point of view is heard more than a woman's, "noticing when this happens and naming it provides unique opportunity for deconstructing a system that otherwise continues unquestioned and becomes normalized. (Reason, 2005)" Finally, there are some fundamental professional discussion guidelines for facilitating a men's discussion (see Pollack, 2001). These are:

  1. Create a safe space
  2. Give men time to feel comfortable with expression
  3. Seek out and provide alternative pathways for expression 
  4. Listen without judging 
  5. Avoid shaming 
  6. Give affirmation
The obstacles to becoming a black male feminist related to privilege, adherence to hegemonic masculinity, and men's contradictory experience of power must be understood. I look forward to continue the journey. 


Will add references later... I'm tired!


Eugene Smith, M.A.