The Intersectional Environmentalist

AS WE dive into what intersectionality means, it’s important to note that this theory stems from the thoughts, experiences, and emotional labor of Black women. It may evolve and take shape in different ways past its original intent, as with environmentalism, but this theory, defined by Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw, is rooted in the duality of her experience as both Black and a woman. Any advancement or more broad adoption of intersectional theory should start with the fact that it was bred from the Black experience and was developed as a tool to help Black women feel seen, heard, and validated in their everyday lives. This theory reflects their experiences as they grappled with those two marginalized identities and faced double, interlocking oppressions and judgment. As Malcolm X said in a 1962 speech,

Black women deserve both protection and appreciation. So as we continue to explore and dive deeper into intersectionality and intersectional environmentalism in this chapter, hold space for Black women. Protect and respect their theories and their profound resiliency; know that even in their struggle, Black women have given their knowledge to us to grow and advance society. It is an immense privilege to create space for and hold a piece of their magic and legacies every time the word “intersectionality” is said or written down—so don’t use it lightly and please don’t dilute its origins.

DIVISION IN THE FEMINIST MOVEMENT

THIS SECTION will refer to the women’s rights movement, also called the feminist movement and the women’s liberation movement, in the United States. First wave feminist movements of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, which predate the women’s rights movement, largely focused on the advocacy of legal rights for women (like the ability to vote, receive an education, and secure employment).² Unfortunately, a recurrence through the different feminist movements in the United States is the lack of consideration for, and even hostile rejection of, racial equality within women’s rights efforts.

The women’s rights movement in the 1960s and ’70s, considered second wave feminism, broadened the idea of what equality could look like for women and included sexual liberation, workplace safety, reproductive rights, the deconstruction of gender roles, and more.³ But even with this broader feminism, the advocacy for women of color was not a focal point of the mainstream movement at large—nor did the movement give special consideration to queer and trans women. The dire need for safe spaces for women who weren’t represented in the mainstream movement led to an emerging Black feminist movement that advocated for both race and women’s equality during the height of the civil rights and women’s rights movements. This is where the seeds of intersectional theory were planted—which was later defined in 1989 by Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw.

What was the key goal of the second wave feminist women’s rights movement? I think a fair answer would be the equality of women in all sectors of life. This is an admirable goal, but if those who are setting these goals aren’t representative of all women, all women won’t be equally protected as a result. Even if everyone is united by the common thread of being women, there is a danger when what’s being considered a universal women’s experience is only reflective of those who are privileged in other crucially defining areas in society, like race, class, and sexuality.

The understanding of a “universal women’s experience” within the mainstream women’s rights movement did not include strong consideration for the role that race played in that experience. This led to the emergence of Black feminist theorists, activists, and scholars who wanted to challenge the notion that the goals of racial equality and women’s rights should be kept separate. As Audre Lorde perfectly stated, “I am a Black feminist. I mean I recognize that my power as well as my primary oppressions come as a result of my Blackness as well as my womanness, and therefore my struggles on both of these fronts are inseparable.”⁴ Inseparable, intertwined, and intersectional.

WHAT IS MISOGYNOIR?

MISOGYNOIR, A concept originally defined by Black queer feminist Moya Bailey, is a term to describe a specific type of sexism that Black women face.⁵ It stems from the term “misogyny”: the hatred of women.⁶ Misogynoir examines how race interacts with and compounds the impact of sexism and misogyny. Some examples include:

Misogynoir explains the added level of specific discrimination that Black women face and how this discrimination permeates society. Misogynoir was very present during the women’s rights movement and caused confusion at the intersections of race and feminism. In her book Freedom Is a Constant Struggle, civil rights activist Angela Davis explained, “Black feminism emerged as a theoretical and practical effort demonstrating that race, gender, and class are inseparable in the social worlds we inhabit. At the time of its emergence, Black women were frequently asked to choose whether the Black movement or the women’s movement was most important. The response was that this was the wrong question.”⁸

Being in the dominant racial group in society benefited white feminists to some extent during the women’s rights movement. No matter how radical they were, they were allowed to publicly demonstrate without the same level of violence enacted on BIPOC, and they had the advantage of more visibility around their efforts. This isn’t to say that their efforts should be minimized, but the purpose of this book is to raise awareness of unsung heroes, look beneath the surface, and reflect on missteps in social and environmental movements so that future movements can improve. With complete knowledge of our past, we have a better shot at improving the outcomes of our future.

Unfortunately, some early feminists had clear biases and chose to act only in their own best interests, disregarding the concerns of women of color and queer women because they felt that these topics weren’t related, they didn’t care, or they thought the inclusion of anti-racism or anti-homophobia would “complicate” the matter for white feminists. The prevailing attitude was that perhaps after their own liberation, they would create space for other people and causes.

It’s confusing that early feminists, who believed deeply in the equality of men and women, had caveats as to who could achieve that liberation. To me, it’s contradictory for a feminist to also hold racist, Islamophobic, anti-Semitic, homophobic, transphobic, and otherwise anti-liberation beliefs. However, humans are complicated, and lateral oppression—the concept of marginalized groups oppressing other marginalized groups—is very real. Sometimes the allure of power, however paltry, can cause otherwise oppressed people to contribute to the oppression of others.

With Black women’s liberation seemingly an afterthought of women in the mainstream women’s movement, it makes sense that Black feminists chose to create safer spaces so they could dive into the many aspects of their identities and fight for their own equality without waiting for white feminists to grant them permission. Instead, Black women created their own theories and framework that ultimately would benefit all women and would be more inclusive.

THE COMBAHEE RIVER COLLECTIVE

LEADERSHIP WITHIN the U.S. civil rights movement was largely male, and the leaders of the women’s rights movement were overwhelmingly middle-class and white. Black feminists found themselves at a crossroads. They lacked visibility and felt shut out of both movements. Even though they poured their emotional labor, hearts, and bodies into both causes because both were intertwined with their identities, they were left asking, Who will fight for us and where do we belong?

Twin sisters Barbara and Beverly Smith, Audre Lorde, Demita Frazier, Cheryl Clarke, Akasha Hull, Margo Okazawa-Rey, Chirlane McCray, and other Black feminist revolutionaries were tired of taking a back seat in their own liberation struggle. Together, they formed the Combahee River Collective in 1974, a small organization named after the Combahee River Raid in South Carolina, led by Harriet Tubman to liberate hundreds of enslaved people. The goals of the CRC were to combat capitalism, racism, homophobia, sexism, and more. The women wanted to dismantle several systems of oppression at once because to them, they were all interconnected.

The CRC, inspired by anticolonial and antiwar movements and the work of the Third World Women’s Alliance, argued that the liberation of Black women would result in freedom for all people.¹⁰ Black women were and are faced with racism, poverty, and sexism, and if Black women no longer bore the brunt of all these injustices, then everyone would benefit. This notion was revolutionary, because it is the opposite of white feminist ideologies that say that white women’s liberation should come first and will eventually have a domino effect, and it is counter to some of the male-led civil rights organizations’ positions that put Black women’s interests second. The CRC believed that any oppressed group has the right to take up space and advocate for all aspects of their identity; as Black women, they were entitled to a political identity that centered around their Black womanhood, as any other oppressed person was entitled to a political identity that centered around their full personhood.¹¹ At the time, this was a radical response to being dismissed by other social movements that ignored the specific needs of Black women.

The CRC believed that oppressed people should be able to define their own political ideologies and organizations and advocate for their specific interests without silencing themselves; they termed this ability to self-determine “identity politics.”¹² While the term has been misused since its inception, the intention was not to be exclusive, but to give oppressed people the right to advocate for their own self-interests and liberation. Black feminists did not view identity politics as a way to be separatists, but as a way to successfully unite and build stronger liberation movements.

The CRC’s stance was revolutionary because it expressed the complexity of overlapping identities and the sometimes double or triple marginalization that people with several oppressed identities faced. This multilayered approach to understanding oppression is the basis of intersectional theory.

KIMBERLÉ WILLIAMS CRENSHAW AND INTERSECTIONAL FEMINISM

BUILDING OFF the concept of interlocking systems of oppression and identity politics comes critical race theory and the theory of intersectionality, defined by Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw in 1989.

Crenshaw is a pioneer and leading voice in critical race theory, Black feminist legal theory, racism, and law, with over thirty years of research and advocacy on race and civil rights to her name. She is a graduate of Cornell University, Harvard University, and the University of Wisconsin and is a law professor at UCLA and Columbia. Her work has exposed several instances of structural inequality leading to the overcriminalization of Black children, such as the school-to-prison pipeline and the mistreatment of Black women in the criminal justice system. Critical race theory examines how race and identity intersect with power structures, like the legal system, and its foundational messaging began to emerge following the Civil Rights Movement in the ’70s and carried on into the ’80s and ’90s. Its evolution can be credited to legal scholars including Derrick Bell, Alan Freeman, Richard Delgado, Cheryl Harris, Charles R. Lawrence III, Mari Matsuda, and Patricia J. Williams, as well as Crenshaw.

While these scholars’ individual analyses may differ, there are two recurring arguments that are fundamental to the critical race theory movement: