[2] I’ve been feeling extremely discouraged in my field and I don’t even have to deal with 5% of what you go through. You may have received similar messages to mine and I understand that it deviates from the blog’s theme, so I’ll understand if you’d rather not answer. Whatever the case, I truly appreciate your continuous effort. All the best!
I’ve been asked before how I manage to magically avoid activist burnout.
The answer is: I don’t.
I’ve also been asked how I manage to hold up under the alarmingly massive amount of harassment and even stalking I’ve been subjected to as the result of having had the audacity to write about art history/exist as a marginalized person on the internet.
The answer is: I don’t.
I’ve had to try and explain how online harassment and cyberstalking works to police officers who can barely open a document on a computer they only use at work, and only because they’ve been forced to learn. I was “lucky” enough to have had actual in-person stalking associated with the work I do online to point to, something that the individuals I spoke to could understand more easily. Not that anything has been done about any of it; most of the time it’s providing leads if anything “happens” to me.
The inbox I woke up to today looked like this:
And that^^ goes on (and onnnn) for much longer than any single screenshot can elucidate. It’s really no different than any other day.
In addition to my own inbox and press articles from all over the world, there are few social media sites left that haven’t curated their own campaign of How Much I Suck:
This isn’t even recent ^^. There is much, much more and I just don’t have the energy or ability to even glance at this trash anymore, much less sift through it.
I’ve had a lot of opportunities I’ve turned down because I’m just too exhausted from all of it. Some days it’s all I can do to just log in here and queue up a few posts, because I’m worn out from the fighting and the harassment; the constant demands that i justify my own existence and my right to speak at all.
I’ve had to watch people not only attack me personally, but my friends and my family as well. I’m not just trying to support and protect myself, but my disabled partner and another minor dependent, from the violence and harassment I’ve been subjected to.
There have been harassment campaigns launched against pretty much any and every marginalized person who dares to make a peep that can be construed as “we need more diversity in popular media”.
Just look at the backlash towards Tariq Moosa’s recent Polygon piece about gaming, or the The Tempest Challenge for reading more diverse literature, the hatestorm of certain Gates, or the vile attacks on authors of color like N. K. Jemisin, merely for existing and creating. How dare any of us exist; how dare we speak. How dare any marginalized person take up space.
An additional problem is that people want to see a narrative of “marginalized person with something important to say overcomes adversity with class and finesse,” and that’s not really a standard actual human beings can live up to most of the time. I know that I certainly don’t. I’m not “rising above it”; I’m just traumatized. People also seem to expect me to be able to exert control over what others have to say about MPoC or myself, personally, or to somehow be accountable for it. That’s another impossible expectation. I’m not part of some protective institution or coalition. I’m just another marginalized, poverty-stricken academic rattling my tin cup for the funding to show my evidence and write out my interpretations.
So, what keeps me going, even if barely, some days?
The fact that I’m seeing tangible, material changes happening because of what I do. The fact that I’m seeing more people interested in art and history than I ever imagined was possible. I’m seeing those who were already engaging in cultural criticism in this regard bolstered and renewed by information I’ve shared and compiled, and seeing others who are inspired by it begin to look at what they love with a more discerning eye, and sometimes, new appreciation for it. The fact that educators, laypeople, and professional academics are being inspired by the research I post to continue carrying the spirit of inquiry even farther into the future, for all of our sakes.
And moreover, I find these works and this information beautiful. I believe they have inherent value that needs to be acknowledges and shared as widely as possible. I love learning more about it every day, and sharing it with others. I’m curious. I want to know, and once I do, I want to know more. In so many ways, asking the questions is just as important as finding out the answers. Sometimes there isn’t one, and that’s okay too. And then sometimes, the answers are more beautiful and astounding than I ever expected they could be.
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
I sincerely doubt that the “whole Czech Republic” is laughing at me in truth, but even if they were, I’m not really listening when I’m doing something that I truly love to do. It makes me happy, it gives me satisfaction; it brings me back to life. I just hope it keeps being enough.