THE INTERSECTIONALITY OF OPPRESSION

Traditional mentorship in academia focuses on teaching individuals how to navigate their discipline and their specific academic institution. When mentoring people from a traditionally underrepresented or marginalized group, we also are teaching the mentees how to traverse particular obstacles that they may face based on their identity. To the extent that discrimination is acknowledged, it usually is oversimplified to a singular dimension. We may talk about gender discrimination against women, racial discrimination against people of color, and heterosexism against people who are LGBTQ, as well as other forms of discrimination experienced around dis/ability, class, and nativity. For people at the intersection of multiple marginalities, however, the discrimination that they face is often multifaceted. Scholarship on intersectionality highlights the ways in which oppression operates not within unitary, mutually exclusive categories but rather as reciprocally constructing phenomena that shape complex inequalities (Collins Reference Collins2015). Intersectionality acknowledges how a person might experience multiple or interlocking forms of oppression simultaneously or be disadvantaged along one form of oppression and advantaged along others. Whereas single-axis approaches that highlight one form of oppression can make important interventions, failure to address the complexities of intersecting oppressions can provide incomplete solutions at best or unintended and harmful consequences at worst. When Crenshaw (Reference Crenshaw1989; Reference Crenshaw1991) coined the term “intersectionality,” the first two issues that she addressed were how Black women experienced employment discrimination and gendered violence. She argued that single-axis frameworks (that look at only gender or only race) erased Black women in the conceptualization, identification, and remediation of these issues.

An intersectional analysis of sexual harassment complicates our understanding of it in a number of ways. First, whereas sexual harassment usually is seen as a form of gendered oppression, gender violence has long been used effectively as a tool of intimidation and exclusion beyond reasons of gender (Montoya Reference Montoya and Shepherd2019). Gender violence has been used to terrorize, control, and discipline groups that are marginalized by their race, class, sexuality, and gender identity.

Second, intersectional marginalization feeds into perceptions of who might be considered a sympathetic victim worthy of justice. For example, Black women and Latinas often have been sexualized and portrayed as sexually available, making them the target of sexual violence, but also in deeming them “unrapeable” (George and Martínez Reference George and Martínez2002; Higginbotham Reference Higginbotham2012; McGuire Reference McGuire2010). In our victim-blaming culture, any survivor of sexual violence often is viewed with suspicion and maligned for coming forward; however, groups at the intersection of multiple marginalities are even less likely to be viewed as “worthy” victims (Dukes and Gaither Reference Dukes and Gaither2017; Montoya Reference Montoya, Hodzic and True2016).

Third, intersectional positioning also shapes who is more likely to be deemed a punishable perpetrator (Dukes and Gaither Reference Dukes and Gaither2017; Montoya Reference Montoya, Hodzic and True2016). The fact that race and sexuality play prominently in who is deemed a punishable perpetrator affects the precarity of survivors who share one (or more) of these dimensions with their harasser. That men of color and members of the LGBTQ community are more likely to be accused of and punished for sexual violence means that not only do victims have a difficult time challenging more privileged perpetrators (i.e., cis-, hetero-, upper-class white men); they also face tension from their own communities when they speak up about another member (Montoya Reference Montoya and Shepherd2019; Varelas and Foley Reference Varelas and Foley1998). There are long and enduring legacies in which the specter of sexual violence has been used as a justification for the surveillance and repression of racial and sexual minorities.Footnote ¹ Members of marginalized social groups know that the “airing of dirty laundry”—even when the violence is real—can make all group members vulnerable and result in disproportional penalties (Richie Reference Richie1996; Ritchie Reference Ritchie2017). Precarious groups are less likely to speak up because they know that their complaint can feed into processes of marginalization. Doing so also can expose them to accusations that they are betraying their communities, potentially alienating them from the networks key to their survival (Brown Reference Brown2014; Montoya and Agustín Reference Montoya and Agustín2013). This happens, albeit in different ways, along other dimensions as well. Speaking up about racism and homophobia in women-centered organizations, or misogyny and homophobia in race-centered organizations, or racism and misogyny in LGBTQ organizations can carry additional risks of repercussions (Garza Reference Garza and Hobson2014).

Being cognizant of the intersectional nature of issues such as sexual harassment and the particular precarity of those at the intersection of multiple marginalities is essential for effective mentoring because it provides the context for understanding the situation. It is here that mentors (or prospective mentors) might need to recognize the limits of their own knowledge and expertise and try to understand what a mentee is experiencing. Advice that may work for a straight, white, cis-gender woman might not fare the same for a woman of color or for someone who is queer or trans.

Furthermore, an intersectional and action-oriented mentorship also might include efforts to address the discriminatory behavior of mentees. A single-axis approach not only overlooks additional intersecting forms of oppression, it also might miss the ways in which mentees—vulnerable to oppression on one dimension of their identity—can exert power over others along other dimensions. Mentors must consider whether they are complicit in protecting their mentees at the expense of others.

IDENTITY AND MENTORSHIP: BEYOND MUTUAL MARGINALITY

Whereas paying attention to social positionality is important for good mentorship, ensuring that mentors and mentees are similarly positioned is neither necessary nor sufficient. A mutual-marginality approach—that is, the identity of the mentor is expected to match the identity of the mentee—is problematic for several reasons. First, the assumption that the best mentorship occurs between mentors and mentees from similar groups is flawed (Crunk Feminists Reference Feminists2011). It is possible that similar identities offer shared experiences and knowledge but, given intersectional complexities, this is not a guarantee. Furthermore, even similarly situated scholars may have different intentions and commitments.

Second, a mutual-marginality approach adds to the asymmetrical burdens already placed on those at the intersection of multiple marginalized identities, who often are treated like the universal donors of mentorship. For example, senior women of color often mentor junior women of color, junior white women, and junior scholars of color. Although these senior women of color may view mentoring as a labor of love and/or as a way to nurture future generations of scholars, their service is not cost-free; instead, it is time-intensive and often goes unrecognized and unrewarded. It also narrows the pool of mentors for (multiply) marginalized groups. This does not minimize the valuable work that is being done by women of color or other similarly situated groups to mentor newer cohorts but rather emphasizes that the responsibility and the needed work falls more broadly.

An intersectional orientation is not inherently (nor should it be assumed as) tied to identity; it can be adopted by anyone willing to do the work. We find that Collins’s (Reference Collins1993) advice for working across difference applies very well to mentoring. We must think more reflexively about our positionality in relation to others: What power and privileges do we hold in general or in relation to our mentees? Where might our own knowledge be limited or partial? It also is important to look for that “piece of the oppressor which is planted deep within each of us” (Lorde Reference Lorde1984). How we respond or choose not to respond may serve to uphold systems of oppression. For example, telling someone to ignore a behavior—even if we see it as being in their best interest—can do this. Decisions about whom to protect (or not) also may serve to uphold one system of oppression in service of another. Next, we must exercise empathy in order to better understand the complexities of our mentees’ experiences. This means listening carefully and truly trying to understand the person’s experiences and how they are making sense of or feeling about them. It means respecting that the mentee has a vantage point that is worthy of respect and attention and access to a particular knowledge that the mentor might not—and that the mentor can learn from the mentee.

For those already approaching mentorship with attention to positionality, we all can do better in remembering to ask the other question. As Matsuda (Reference Matsuda1991) explained: “The way I try to understand interconnection of all forms of subordination is through a method I call ‘ask the other question.’ When I see something that looks racist, I ask ‘Where is the patriarchy in this?’ When I see something that looks sexist, I ask ‘Where is the heterosexism in this?’” In asking the other questions, we also must remember that not all salient dimensions of identity are visible. Ability, class, and first-generation status can all play into how our mentees experience the academy.

TRANSFORMING MENTORING THROUGH AN ACTIVE INTERSECTIONAL LENS

If intersectionality is understood not only as a heuristic for understanding oppression but also as an orientation aimed at confronting structural inequalities, as suggested by May (Reference May2015), then intersectional mentorship requires transformative action. Merely accepting the inevitability of racism, sexism, classism, heterosexism, ableism, and other forms of discrimination in our field is its own type of violence, and we can do better than that.

For too long in our discipline (and in our society), the onus to avoid sexual harassment (as well as other forms of discrimination) has been placed on those at the receiving end. Victims often are mentored to ignore it, to avoid known offenders, and—worse—to change their own appearance and behavior. The work done in #MeTooPoliSci represents an important means of collective resistance, but it also offers a model of what intersectional and action-oriented mentorship might look like. Here, we offer an overview of the short course organized by the APSA Women’s Caucus at the 2018 Annual Conference in Boston,Footnote ² an idea that arose in response to the broader #MeToo Movement after several publicized cases of sexual harassment in the academy. With the guidance of other members within and outside of the caucus, the APSA Women’s Caucus decided to use the short-course model as a venue for individuals to share experiences and discuss a collective response. The short course was organized to provide a welcoming, diverse, and inclusive space to grapple with the issue of sexual harassment.

Pivotal to this approach were efforts to encourage those on the margins of the #MeToo Movement to play a more central role in planning and participating in the event. The Women’s Caucus created a platform on Slack.com and sent personal invitations to women of color, queer women, and trans or gender-nonbinary scholars to join in the effort. The short course was uniquely designed for participants to listen to and learn from one another, which allowed participants to better understand how different groups of people experience and understand #MeToo.

The first session was led by staff of the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center (BARCC). Participants were encouraged to think about the multiple and diverse needs of survivors (and supporters), which often require different strategies to address, cope with, and heal from these events. BARCC trainers asked participants to engage in small-group discussions in which they drew from personal experiences to develop a set of responses to crisis and trauma. A second session, led by Jenn M. Jackson (then a graduate student at the University of Chicago), focused on the power of collective praxis to transform universities. Drawing from queer theory, Black feminist thought, and critical race theory, as well as social-justice practices informed by Black Lives Matter activism, Jenn instructed participants in how to use collective action to make transformative change on our campuses. She encouraged us to move beyond incremental approaches and to develop a set of recommendations that would produce radical equality and equity. Working together, the groups created a set of ideas that addressed these concerns by targeting the root cause of the problem (i.e., sexism, heterosexism, and racism).

Participants left the short course with a sense of purpose and were better equipped to ask the other question. They were challenged to “engage in a consciousness reconstruction” by actively listening to one another and making survivors’ stories the starting point before moving toward a plan of collective action. Intersectional mentoring should do the same thing. We need to nurture the voices of differences among us, listen to accounts that often are hidden due to multiple marginalizations, and respond in an identity-conscious, culturally relevant way. Intersectional and action-oriented mentorship must ask how social processes inform our social location and address the issue from that vantage point. Failure to do so may lead us to reinforce the very power relations that oppress the disadvantaged (Matsuda 1991). This is what often renders groups unintelligible to one another (Brown Reference Brown1995).