upworthy

privilege

Paul Scanlon shares his thoughts.

Racist jokes are one of the more frustrating manifestations of racism. Jokes in general are meant to be a shared experience, a connection over a mutual sense of humor, a rush of feel-good chemicals that bond us to those around us through laughter.

So when you mix jokes with racism, the result is that racism becomes something light and fun, as opposed to the horrendous bane that it really is.

The harm done with racist humor isn't just the emotional hurt they can cause. When a group of white people shares jokes at the expense of a marginalized or oppressed racial group, the power of white supremacy is actually reinforced—not only because of the "punching down" nature of such humor, but because of the group dynamics that work in favor of maintaining the status quo.

British author and motivational speaker Paul Scanlon shared a story about interrupting a racist joke at a table of white people at an event in the U.S, and the lessons he drew from it illustrate this idea beautifully. Watch:

Speaking up in a group setting where people have an unspoken sense of solidarity is difficult. Giving up social capital and being seen as a breaking a code of sorts is uncomfortable. But that difficulty and discomfort are not excuses for staying quiet. As Scanlon points out, our silence is not benign, it's malignant. Keeping quiet while a racist joke is being told and laughed at is harmful because it allows racism to go unchecked and white supremacy to remain secure.

racism, white supremacy, white solidarity, racial justice, anti-racism Anti-racist protest signs.Canva Photos.

An important point Scanlon makes is that not only do white folks allow harm to take place when we remain silent in the face of a friend, family member, colleague, or acquaintance making a racist joke, but we are actually rewarded for saying nothing. We maintain a sense of solidarity, we gain social capital, we're seen as agreeable and establish a sense of belonging. Those rewards are an insidious form of racism that many white people aren't even aware we participate in.

We have to decide ahead of time that we're going to give up that reward and embrace the inevitable awkwardness in order to do the right thing.

In a useful video based on her book Difference Matters: Communicating Social Identity, Professor Emerita of Communications and Vice Chancellor for Diversity and Inclusion at the University of Colorado Denver, Brenda J. Allen, PhD, breaks down how each of us can use our privilege—whether that's white privilege, gender privilege, financial privilege, education privilege, etc.—for the good of others. Watch:

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We have to decide that ending racism is more important than embarrassment. The more people who stand firm in that decision, the less awkward it will become and the sooner we can redefine what social capital and solidarity really mean.

This article originally appeared on 6.30.20. It has been updated.

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Trump's election was a major wake-up call for Maggie Gyllenhaal. Here's what changed.

A late-night TV interview is a guide to recognizing privilege and putting it to good use.

Actress Maggie Gyllenhaal stopped by "The Late Show With Stephen Colbert" to discuss her new show, "The Deuce," but audiences got a lot more than that.

"The Deuce" is an upcoming HBO drama in which Gyllenhaal plays a sex worker. The show grapples with a number of uncomfortable topics, misogyny and power structures among them. Gyllenhaal's conversation with Colbert eventually turned to — as so much seems to these days — politics.

"I think when we were making the show, it was last summer, it was the election," she said. "Sometimes we'd be watching the debates on our lunch break. All of these conversations were bubbling under everything. We were shooting when Trump was saying, 'I can grab women's pussies if I want to.'"


GIFs from "The Late Show With Stephen Colbert"/YouTube.

Trump's election caused Gyllenhaal to reflect on where we actually are in society and how it compares to where we thought we were.

A man who, as Gyllenhaal alluded to, bragged about grabbing women's genitals would receive tens of millions of votes. A man who had been accused by 15 women of sexual assault or harassment would become president. A man who allegedly walked in on a teenage girls' dressing room would hold the highest office in the land. A man who once said it was OK to refer to his daughter as a "piece of ass" would be the next leader of the free world.

Whatever ideas anyone had about misogyny, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia, and Islamophobia being relics of America's past went out the window with Trump's election. And for Gyllenhaal, it was a wake-up call.

It's foolish to think any of those things had truly been eradicated from our society, but for some, it was easy enough to pretend these problems didn't exist.

Gyllenhaal didn't want to be complicit in America's culture of misogyny any longer, so she made a conscious decision not to let things slide anymore.

As any woman can surely attest, sexism and misogyny are everywhere. They are forced to pick battles and begrudgingly accept sexist behavior as part of working, living, existing in this world.

But as Trump's election demonstrated, putting up with the small acts of sexism can reinforce a dark, dangerous, and pervasive culture.

Realizing her privilege as a well-off Hollywood actress, Gyllenhaal could just as easily continue to let the little things slide. But she didn't want to do that anymore.

For her sake, for the sake of our country, and for the sake of our future, it's imperative to push back against injustice in all its forms.

Gyllenhaal declared that she's "not gonna take it anymore," and while she didn't exactly elaborate on what she meant by that, it's a good start.

Those of us in positions where we can fight back against bigotry and sexism should do so because it's not just about us as individuals, but us as a collective society.

Watch Gyllenhaal's interview below (she starts talking about Trump and misogyny around 7:30 into the clip).

Remember James Damore, the (now former) Google employee who created a firestorm for that controversial memo he sent to colleagues?

Well, he's up a creek again.

In early August, Damore was fired after a sexist memo he wrote — in which he falsely claimed biological differences between the genders were a reason why fewer women work in tech — leaked to the press.

Damore has since defended (and even doubled down) on his debunked assertions. And now, that's led him into yet another self-inflicted controversy.



In an interview with Business Insider, Damore suggested being a conservative employee at Google is like "being gay in the 1950s."

After being asked about how he'd respond to women at Google who were offended by his remarks, Damore segued into the allegedly oppressive work environments keeping conservatives quiet in Silicon Valley:


"Really, it’s like being gay in the 1950s. These conservatives have to stay in the closet and have to mask who they really are. And that’s a huge problem because there’s open discrimination against anyone who comes out of [the] closet as a conservative."

The internet wasn't having it.

After the interview published, Twitter users piled on, pointing out how asinine Damore's remarks truly were.

Damore was fired for sending out a sexist memo — not for being conservative — which sort of nulled his point from the get-go.

It's absurd for someone like Damore to try and play the victim card in the first place, though.

Because it's difficult to be part of the largest political ideology base in the U.S. and also claim you're oppressed.

You can't get fired simply for being conservative, after all. You still can be fired, however, for being LGBTQ.

Decades-old research, one user highlighted, found large majorities of LGBTQ people reported being harassed or assaulted because of who they were.

You don't need hard data to understand what LGBTQ people went through, though. The tales are horrifying enough.  

Damore probably should have done his research before making a claim like that.

When words failed, images said it all.

Le sigh.

GIFs, too, seemed like an appropriate response.

A very appropriate response.

Damore's clueless comparison shows the dangers in forgetting history — or failing to learn it in the first place.

In 1950 — long before gay marriage or same-sex adoption laws were even up for debate — homosexuality was still considered a sociopathic personality disturbance by the American Psychiatric Association. In 1953, President Dwight Eisenhower signed an executive order banning LGBTQ people from working for the federal government because they were perceived as a security threat.

It wasn't until 16 years later that the Stonewall Inn riots — considered the launch of the modern day LGBTQ rights movement — erupted after years of harassment and abuse of queer New Yorkers at the hands of city police.

You really believe the challenges you face as a conservative are comparable to what closeted LGBTQ people dealt with 60 years ago?

A couple years ago, I had a conversation with some of my guy friends that I’ll never forget.

We were talking about whether there’s such a thing as "a good rape joke" (answer: no), and I mentioned that women tend to have “rape anxiety” in public. They didn't understand the concept, so I explained:

Sometimes, if we’re walking down a dark alley alone, we worry that we might get raped. That anxiety can even happen in more low-risk situations, like if we’re walking to work in broad daylight or even when someone rolls down the window of their car to shout something about our bodies.


My dude friends looked at me like I had just convincingly explained to them that the Earth was flat.

A protestor at a Take Back the Night rally in London. Photo by Charlotte Barnes/Wikimedia Commons.

They had no idea that I experienced this fundamental truth of my existence every day.

They had no idea this feeling was shared, to some degree, with most women (and other marginalized people who are threatened in public spaces). It had never even occurred to my favorite men that many of the people they interact with live with this form of apprehension all the time.

A few weeks later, after our conversation, my friend Eric told me a story.

He said he was walking down the street at night, about 15 feet behind a young woman. At one point, she glanced back at him — and he recalled our conversation. So he started walking slower and decided to take a different route home, in case he was unintentionally making her nervous.

I gave him a hug and felt lucky to have men in my life that take sexual harassment and gendered violence seriously. But even well-intentioned guys may be unaware of how their position of power creates intimidating situations.

To the dudes I love, the dudes who walk me home at night and care about me very much, here’s what your female friend wants you to know when she's talking about harassment and violence:

Photo via iStock.

1. I need you to listen to me.

Resist your impulse to "not-all-men" your way out of the conversation. If I'm talking to you about this issue, it's because I trust you and I think it's an important discussion to have.

Please understand that my experiences may change your worldview a little bit — and that yours might change mine. If both of us approach the conversation with the assumption that we have something to learn, chances are we will.

2. I need you to be aware of how your behavior could unintentionally make the women (and femme and queer people) around you uncomfortable.

Maybe you're trying to chat up a woman at the bar who doesn't seem interested and you're just not taking a hint. Maybe a step in the right direction is realizing that the woman who's glancing back at you while you walk down the street is trying to assess if you're a threat.

When you're more in tune with the harassment that women experience every day simply by existing in the world, the next step is to notice if and how you play a role in those situations. Lots of times your threat is harmless, of course. But it never hurts to think critically about how you treat women, especially those you don't know, in public.

3. I need you to use your privilege as a shield.

Guys, it's exhausting to have to do all of this work ourselves. We really want your help.

The perpetrators of gendered microaggressions, sexual harassment, and sexual violence aren't strangers — they're the men in your classes, your workplace, your gym. So if you see something, please say something.

If a coworker makes an inappropriate comment to you about another coworker's body, please tell them it's not OK.

If you see a dude harassing a female friend at a party or a bar, please tactfully interject yourself into the situation to give her an out.

And, for the love of all that is holy, PLEASE teach your sons, brothers, and friends to do the same.

It may be uncomfortable to start talking about sexual violence and harassment, but it's so, so necessary for all of us.

Those conversations could make a real difference in whether people like me feel safe and comfortable in the world.

That matters.