Why I Won’t Apologize Anymore for Making Generalizations

We’ll stop generalizing when generalizations are no longer true

What’s the one thing you will hear again and again when people dare to publish rants about racism or sexism or homophobia? You’re speaking in generalizations, people say.

• It would be better/more palatable/more accurate for you to use more specific language and indicators.
• Generalizations aren’t fair.
• You’re putting people off with your generalizations.
• I’m not like this.
• #NotAllMen, #NotAllWhitePeople #NotAllWhatever

I used to take this very seriously. I do believe that we should be as specific as possible. I do believe that generalizations (in general!) are often not helpful. I do believe that we should strive to be precise with our language. And I definitely believe that we should use our words to find peace and solidarity, for the most part.

But you know what? There’s a reason why generalizations are called for when people speak out against white supremacy, sexism, homophobia and other systemic inequities built into our culture. Because they are real.

Face it — the generalizations are true

When I write about sexism, I spend an inordinate amount of time choosing my words so that I will convey the understanding that I am not talking about all men. Though still, I will receive criticism for blaming men and/or for speaking in too many generalizations.

When I read articles or social media posts by black women calling out white supremacy or refusing to “be nice,” I see white people clapping back with defensive accusations of lumping all white people together or assuming all white people are racist.

Here’s the issue, though — something we don’t like to face: The generalizations are made because they are true.

It’s 2020 and the LGBTQ community is still being unfairly censored.

It’s 2020 and we are only now beginning to validate women’s experience and acknowledge the systemic sexual violence they have endured at the hands of men for centuries.

It’s 2020 and I’m not convinced we’ve even begun to acknowledge the unending violence and discrimination endured by black people and people of color.

I think it’s fair to say that we can criticize the use of generalizations when those generalizations are no longer true. When the LGBTQ community has the same rights and representation as everyone else. When feminist activists can do their work without having to navigate male aggression and even death threats. When black men can go jogging in their own neighborhoods without the fear of being killed or when they have the same chance of surviving an encounter with the police as white men do.

The generalizations are valid because homophobia, sexism, and racism is the norm.

Defensiveness is privilege in action

It’s terrifying to look at our culture and what it does to marginalized populations. And what’s even more terrifying is to realize that many of us (for instance, those of us who are white, and particularly those who are white males) benefit from these inequities, these abuses of power, these acts of violence.

You wanna get even scarier? What we hate to look at most of all is how this system lives within us.

We were born into homophobia. We were born into sexism. We were born into racism. These seeds were planted within us and no matter how woke we are, we have to be ever-vigilant to the ways those seeds grow and spread their roots.

To yell and insist that not all white people are racist or not all heteros are homophobic or not all men are sexist is to completely miss the point. The point is, we were all raised on the Kool-Aid. And even for those who stopped drinking it, it stays in the system for a lifetime.

Those of us who feel we can and should defend ourselves from these generalizations are simply proving those generalizations to be true. Defensiveness is refusing to acknowledge these very real problems, inequities, and abuses — and that’s probably because those defending themselves never experienced them.

Don’t hate the generalizations — hate that they are valid

It feels like we should be further than we are in this moment. It feels like, at the very least, everyone should be able to acknowledge their privilege and the fact that that often blinds us to what people further down the false hierarchy are enduring.

So many men are stunningly blind to their privilege, calling out women about the timeliness of their accusations of sexual assault, re-centering the #MeToo movement on men and how it affects them, and even failing to notice, on any level, the extreme gender imbalance in our culture. So many white people believe that a childhood of poverty is just as bad (or worse) than being black, indigenous, or a person of color in a racist society, that they have the right to ask black, indigenous, and people of color to set aside their anger and be nicer, and that centering on BIPOC experiences and issues isn’t “inclusive enough.”

And this is why social justice activists — and even the average person trying to take up room in this white supremacist patriarchy — use generalizations.

Why are we not at the place where we acknowledge our privilege and the blindness that can come with it? Why don’t we go there first instead of becoming defensive and railing against valid generalizations?

It’s not about you — but it is

Generalizations are about the systems in place that are hurting marginalized people. They are not an indictment of individuals.

On the other hand, it is a call to action to recognize that we all have a part in the system and that we have a responsibility to each other to acknowledge that part and to take action to remove ourselves from the system and ultimately build a new one that is equitable for all.

There’s one surefire way to know when the generalizations are about you — when you are triggered as fuck and react in defensiveness. Oftentimes, that’s a classic symptom that we’re allowing our privilege to blind us and refusing to acknowledge the experience of marginalized people.

And if you don’t feel defensive, great — you’re doing some work. Keep going. Disengaging from the patriarchy, from white supremacy, from homophobia is work that we’ll be doing for the rest of our lives.

What we can do next

What if we could embrace the generalizations? What if we could accept them for what they are: calling out a destructive system that deserves to be called out?

What if we didn’t take any of this personally, yet took all of it personally?

Check yourself before you call out generalizations

If you get a knee-jerk response of defensiveness upon encountering generalizations about homophobia, sexism, or racism and are tempted to fire back — stop.

Go look at the news. That should give you plenty of evidence why it’s a valid choice to speak in general terms about these subjects. Because again — this is the norm.

Listen

Remove yourself from the equation and then listen to what the generalizations are saying. What truth lies in those words?

Can you let down your defenses enough to feel another person’s experience of inequity, abuse, and violence? Can you allow someone else to point out that the privilege you enjoy is not most other people’s experience?

Protect the space

Don’t object. Your objection and your defensiveness is negating the experience of a marginalized person. Don’t ask for apologies. Don’t make accusations.

Protect this person’s right to speak about their experiences. Protect their space and their voice by letting it ring out into the world without being edited, criticized, or battered down.

You can do this by speaking in support. By thanking them for educating you (which is not their job to do). Or by just remaining quiet and amplifying their voice by sharing their work on social media.

Take action

When you feel triggered by someone’s generalizations — pick up a book, start googling, do some research. Read about the systemic inequities in our culture. Find out why so few women report sexual assault. Learn about the wage gap. Research our history of police brutality against people of color. Dig into the human rights crisis happening at the U.S./Mexican border.

Being uninformed is a symptom of privilege. It doesn’t affect you, so it doesn’t feel important.

Meanwhile, people’s livelihoods are at stake. Their ability to benefit from basic human rights. Their physical safety. Their lives.

If you object to generalizations, do your part to prevent people from needing to use them.

© Yael Wolfe 2020