Graduate Compendium, MA Social Justice & Human Rights
In the section below I connect the analyses explored in the previous essays to my personal journey of self-discovery and my academic journey as a student in the Master of Arts of Social Justice & Human Rights program by presenting excerpts from three essays submitted to various courses of the program.
When I began my Masters in Social Justice and Human Rights at Arizona State University, I believed myself to be a bisexual Latina, mixed-race of Mexican descent if I were to get specific. It is from this perspective that I wrote my first essay focusing on Latina-Black Solidarity, an excerpt of which is included below. This essay was submitted as the final paper of a course entitled Pro-Seminar Social Justice & Human Rights, my introduction to the Masters program.
Chicana Feminists Have a Duty to Support and Uplift Black Feminists
US-born, Chicana women, by virtue of the multiplicity of their cultural and ethnic identities, are uniquely positioned to both influence and subvert dominant culture in the United States. Chicana feminism, and the method by which it is taught, is a manifestation of this ability. This multiplicity of identity which allows Chicana women to infiltrate dominant culture while also belonging to a marginalized group situates them to serve as a bridge between dominant white feminism and the feminisms of other women/people of color. This unique position produces not just the ability, but the duty, for Chicana feminists to be inclusionary, intersectional, and above all else, allies to their Black sisters and non-binary folk. For the purposes of narrowing down the focus of this essay, I refer to Chicanas, but the preceding statement applies at least in part to all US-born women/non-binary people of Latin American descent….
However, all the similarities and shared pain in the world cannot erase the fact that anti-Black racism and colorism in Hispanic culture still exists (Dixon, 2019). My intent here is not to deny its existence or “argue” it away with examples of solidarity, but rather to make the case that Black and Brown people have more in common with each other than they do with the oppressor, and that solidarity is the best means to the ends both groups seek. Black and Chicano activists have worked together to fight oppression and inequality countless times throughout the history of the United States, and the strong Hispanic presence during this summer’s Black Lives Matter protests shows they continue to do so (Martinez, 2020). Black and Brown people in the United States face many of the same injustices stemming from systemic racism in the United States. Both groups seek economic, social, reproductive, sexual, carceral, environmental and educational justice, to name but a few…
As we have done in the past, it is time for Chicanxs, especially Chicana feminists, to use our platforms to uplift Black voices and to create a shared discursive space. Both Black and Chicana feminists have been working hard to define themselves apart from their oppressors and to create a safe space to discuss their goals and philosophies. Neither group need lose what makes them unique in order to come together. As we have discussed, Chicanx and Black women/non-binary people contain multiple identities within them, straddle many borders and face multi-faceted oppressions. These identities allow them to empathize and connect with the struggles of others, and through conversation, find places where their experiences overlap. Both Chicana and Black feminisms value stories, conversations, culture, and ancestral ties, suiting them well to solidarity and allyship. Seeing as our Black brothers, sisters and non-binary folk are facing the more immediate threat right now, I argue that it is our duty as fellow marginalized groups to stand with them, follow their lead, and uplift their voices. Afterall, tu lucha es mi lucha, and none of us are free until we’re all free.
In winter 2020, I discovered that I was nonbinary transmasculine. As I worked through what this meant to me, I found my previous heavy-focus on gendered issues (which I had always approached from a female-perspective) disappeared from my academic work. However my perspective and identity as a person of color was still readily accessible to me. The focus of my next work, “No White Saviors,” emphasizes that continuity while revealing the self is almost completely removed from the equation. This essay was submitted as my final paper of the course Critical Humanitarianism.
“No White Saviors”
Humanitarianism, by its very nature, is incapable of achieving its stated goal of “doing good” in the world without also perpetuating and participating in existing systems of inequality and white supremacy. Additionally, the movement to produce an “equitable” form of humanitarianism by being self-critical and aware of one’s position and power in the world is well-intentioned, but also an unachievable goal, due to the very conditions of our globalized world that render humanitarianism “necessary” in the first place. To prove the above assertions the author focuses on the following: the emergence of global capitalism and Western colonialism as the birth of both modern humanitarianism and the so-called “crises” that modern humanitarianism responds to, the inherent politicism of modern humanitarianism, the centering of White voices in media coverage of humanitarian crises and activities, and first-hand testimonies and opinions from the people who experience humanitarian activities as recipients. The author believes that the testimonies from the recipients of so-called humanitarianism should be enough to convince Western humanitarians to change the way they interact with the “developing world,” but the reality is that organizations like “No White Saviors” have been saying it for years with little change. The author hopes this essay will serve as a support to groups like “No White Saviors” by attempting to spread their message and change minds through an academic argument...
My hope is that this essay will serve as an additional argument in the quiver of groups like No White Saviors. An academic paper outlining the origins of modern humanitarianism and the incapacity of white humanitarians to act in truly apolitical, anti-racist ways due to the structure of our modern world should not be necessary in order to change the methods of humanitarian-minded white folks: groups like No White Saviors should be enough. If a group of people from a region heavily subjected to humanitarian “aid” and western intervention tells you that your actions are negatively impacting them in various ways, that should be enough. A westerner should not have to try and convince other social justice & human rights students to respect the statements, perspectives, and opinions of people suffering in the global south, but if white westerners were capable of respecting other human beings with different cultures and experiences than their own, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. This does not mean that white people have no role to play in the addressing of racial inequity and global suffering –on the contrary, they have a very important role to play, but it is not one that white supremacy has historically been comfortable playing. The role white people have on the stage of global humanitarian work is one of support, not stardom, following, not leadership. If you become aware of a situation that moves you, and you want to help, reach out to the people that are affected, ask them what they need from you, and if the answer is just, “money and awareness,” then be okay with that. If the answer is, “nothing,” then be okay with that too. After all, the conversation isn’t about you.
By my final semester in the program, my identity as conception of the self as a transgender, transmasculine, nonbinary person of color was solidly established, thoroughly reflected upon, and put into practice by myself in my day to day actions. This settling and confidence in conception of myself is evident in the topic of my final paper (outside of this one), an exploration of the experience of being transgender and undocumented in the United States. This essay was submitted to the course Migration, Asylum, & Refugees.
“Transgender & Undocumented: How Adherence to a Rigid Gender Binary Exposes Transgender Migrants to Heightened Risk in an Already Risky Process
Both transgender and undocumented migrants face marked discrimination and systemic inequities in the US, individuals at the intersection of these two identities even more so. I argue that the rigid framework of the gender binary currently in use by the US Federal government at all levels, but specifically during the asylum and migration process, not only exposes transgender and nonbinary migrants to a profoundly damaging experience while moving through the migration process, but greatly increases their likelihood of experiencing both physical and mental harm at the hands of other inmates and/or governmental representatives.
I propose that in order to protect the dignity and human rights of transgender, nonbinary, and gender nonconforming individuals as they move through the asylum/migration process, binary individuals should be permitted to self-select their gender and holding facility regardless of legal documentation or medical transition, and individuals outside of the male-female binary should be permitted to choose which facility they feel most comfortable in, including a gender-neutral option…
If one takes the time to learn about and question the conditions that our most vulnerable populations are subjected to while held in carceral conditions (like prison or Border Patrol facilities), it is almost impossible not to question the existence of carceral conditions in the first place. When approaching the premise of protecting and upholding the human rights of prisoners (whatever their nature/origin) while they are in prison, it is quickly revealed that the endeavor is impossible, because prisoners’ rights are violated the moment they enter prison, and we, as a society, permit their imprisonment because they are guilty of a crime, and they deserve to be punished. The US (and most Western) “justice” system is centered not on reform and “repaying a debt to society,” but rather punishment and control. Immigrants are viewed in this same light. The moment they try to cross the border or attempt to seek asylum, despite lacking any reasonable “legal” pathways to do so, they become “guilty” and no longer worthy of being viewed and treated as human. Why then should we even bother trying to make their stay in prison humane? They somehow violated the agreement we all make by existing within society, so now they have had their “right to have rights” stripped away.
Any society that qualifies who “deserves” rights and makes the upholding and enforcing of said rights conditional upon compliance is one that is in danger of falling to rightlessness and tyranny. Observing what happens to our most vulnerable, those who are the most exposed, reveals how close we are to that untenable situation.
In conclusion, while it is certainly a worthy endeavor to fight for the protection of the human rights of individuals who are incarcerated, and work that we should be doing, it is also necessary that we question the fact that our societal systems include incarceration and a removal of rights in the first place.