Use It Or Lose It: White Privilege + The Danger Of Centring Whiteness
by Nikita Aashi Chadha
Content warnings: discussions of race, racism, colonialism, mentions of death.
Please note that I wrote this piece when I identified as a woman. That is no longer the case. My previous approach to understanding Endometriosis was very much framed this way, but let me be clear: You do not need to be a woman to live with Endometriosis and the categorisation of the illness within “women’s health” is inaccurate, and minimising (to say the least).
For anyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Nikita Aashi Chadha, and I’m 27 years old. I’m a british national by birth, but I’m from the Indian Diaspora – desi (in my own way) and proud. I was diagnosed with endometriosis and PCOS last year, in 2018, following a laparoscopy. The road to referral and diagnosis was rocky, to say the least. An 18-month saga of GP appointments, only one speculum exam, and a round of therapy to keep what was left of my sanity. I know, I’m lucky, extremely privileged to have had a diagnosis in such a short amount of time (or so they say). The average time span for diagnosis in the UK is 7-8 years, despite affecting 10% of the female population.
I can’t begin to describe how isolating and exhausting living with a chronic condition is. I genuinely felt like no one understood what was happening to my body. I found it extremely hard to connect to people on a personal level. My mental state was deteriorating, and the doctors had no idea what was happening. Medical research has indicated that when women visit the doctor with physical pain, they are generally treated like psychiatric patients. My own experience supports that claim – instead of focusing on the physical symptoms of what was happening within my body, I was offered antidepressants and diagnosed with depression. During the various GP visits and trips to A&E, I encountered all kinds of resistance from medical professionals. From not believing the pain was genuine, being accused of acting like a ‘hysterical crazy woman’ whilst asking for information on hysterectomies, to the doctor who gave me paracetamol after making me wait over 4 hours to be seen. And the worst of it all is that my story is not particularly special or unique. Thousands of women within this country have experienced the same thing, but with that said, let’s not pretend that there is not a hierarchy regarding women, privilege, representation, and access to medical care.
We live in a world of supposed equality, and the rise of “diversity and inclusion”, – but do the systems within this country really reflect the ever-changing climate? Statistically, you are more likely to die during childbirth if you are a black woman, in comparison to a white woman. All of our systems (judiciary, educational, and healthcare) are the result of lingering colonial thought and intention. The European empires claimed scientifically that anyone non-white was not human or degenerate. Is it any wonder that, even now to this day, we are still witnessing explicit bias within institutions and systems? I can hear the waves of ‘feminists’ (white, of course) crying as I write this piece. It’s easy to be shocked when this is a foreign concept to you. When this isn’t something that you’ve ever dealt with before. Even that disbelief is a privilege that women of colour are not afforded. We aren’t surprised at this turn of events, and how could we be if we are aware of what has happened to us historically? There must be other factors involved, they argue, like class and social status. If that is the case, then why does this occur even with high-profile women of colour like Serena Williams and Beyoncé, who both experienced issues with prenatal and postnatal care? People like to speculate on the origins of these narratives as if they haven’t been determining the political climate from the very beginning. Women of colour are seen as less than women due to their direct opposition to white women and whiteness itself.
Whiteness is insidious. It pervades the atmosphere, our consciousness, and hijacks the narrative. The other man-made concepts of race (guess who started playing the race card first) only exist in relation to whiteness, like blackness, which operates as its binary opposite. Concepts of femininity, chastity, and virtue are tied directly into whiteness – the ideal woman is typically european: pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, slim body. If you fit this brief, then great, good for you… But what about the rest of us who don’t?
The ones who aren’t given the same pedestal, or respect as women? If we exist as your opposites, what is the opposite to the ideal female aesthetic… the least desirable aesthetic, an ‘othered’ experience. Feminism is meant to speak to the plight of all women, but I’ve found that when I bring up the above within feminist circles, it hasn’t always ended well. Accusations of being controversial, or trying to divide a movement, just for pointing out the nuances and the complications of identity, are rife. The very concept of feminism is flawed if it is not attempting to bring about the same change and freedoms for every different type of woman, from all backgrounds, all cultures.
I wanted to write this article in response to some of the dangerous narratives that are flourishing under the guise of activism or information within the realms of gynaecological health. There are some influential figures who I think need to be dethroned. Is it not enough that the standard of beauty and guises of humanity have been endlessly whitewashed for centuries? Seeing white, rich, upper-class, conventionally beautiful, thin women take up space AGAIN AND AGAIN when it comes to these conditions is like a punch to the face repeatedly. When I think of women who are typically associated with Endometriosis, I know exactly what they’ll look like or what demographics they’ll belong to. It genuinely hurts the collective women of colour psyche to discover another part of our lives where we ARE ONCE AGAIN excluded from the narrative, because we aren’t even seen as human, let alone women. Why don’t we live in a world where ALL women can see themselves represented, where we are all a part of the collective story?
If reading this has made you feel uncomfortable… uncomfortable is good. It may be from seeing where you fit into the system, how you feed into it, whose voices you platform and raise, and who gets forgotten. That feeling of being uncomfortable in your own skin – this is something women of colour carry around in ALL situations, every day. The time of claiming a false sense of sisterhood when you aren’t adhering to it is over. If you are someone in this space who has a public platform and influence, you should be using that to uplift the voices of women with less privilege. Instead of publicising yet another white experience, use your platform to amplify a voice that doesn’t have access to the same audiences.
I’m over it. If I can identify and examine my own privilege, well hun, so can you. I’m tired of waiting for the ball to drop and for you to see the bigger picture. Or for you to even see us. Stop romanticising, glamourizing and sexualising reproductive conditions. Stop hijacking the narrative to promote your own social media presence. Stop acting like the gatekeepers for these conditions. Just stop.
This is why Cysters is so important, and other organisations that are specifically aimed at women of colour. We have to stick together, now more than ever, if not just to remind ourselves that we are valid, we are human, we are important and our voices do matter. When you perpetuate just a single story, just a single narrative – not only are you displacing and oppressing other women directly for your own benefit, but you are enforcing a racial and misogynistic hierarchy. One that most of you claim to hate. I’ve been asked several times how someone can actively defy their privilege; that is for you to investigate and determine. Too often than not, the onus is put on the marginalised minority; when you are the ones who have the power to enact real change. Education is a great place to start. Learn about what we have been subjected to; how thousands of women of colour have been sterilised for western contraceptive methods, how we are more likely to die in medical care than you are. Find it in your spirit to promote a narrative that is not common, that others haven’t seen. Make room for us, or we will make the room for you.