The Discourse Strikes Again
Sep. 11th, 2020 07:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rynlingI talk about politics more than enough in my day job and professional writing, so this isn’t really a political blog, but one issue I’ve been following closely for the past two years or so is the movement to grant full legal rights to sixteen-year-olds. This movement was sparked by incidents of gun violence in American schools, and it was especially strong in DC, where sixteen-year-old activists could and did actually show up in person to various political offices while campaigning in highly public spaces. Many of the activists have come from BIPOC communities, and the movement started to spread more widely as it became linked to BLM demonstrations this past summer.
As it currently stands, the argument is this: If sixteen-year-olds are considered “essential workers” during the pandemic, and if they’re paying local and federal income taxes, and if they’re being teargased by the National Guard while they engage in civic protest, then they should be allowed to vote. In addition, if high school students are being asked to risk their lives and the lives of their teachers by returning to school, they want to be able to hold their elected leaders accountable.
Because I was disowned by my family for being gay, I became what’s legally classified as an “emancipated minor” at the age of fifteen. Although this status didn’t grant me the full legal rights of an adult, it meant I was legally responsible for myself. I was my own “legal guardian,” basically. I therefore have something of a personal investment and attachment to the idea of sixteen-year-olds being able to enjoy a greater range of civil rights.
In addition, as an educator and storyteller, this is the goal of a great deal of my work – for young people to feel informed, energized, and empowered. In my mind, whether they should be able to vote isn’t even a question. Any human being who lives and pays taxes in the United States should be able to vote.
(Also, if you think high school students are misinformed about politics and make bad decisions, have you talked to an adult recently.)
This movement started around two years ago, so many of its leaders are now eighteen, but they continue to support the cause by bringing in people who have just entered high school and have just turned sixteen. This makes sense because, again, a lot of these activists are coming from local BIPOC communities that don’t suddenly disappear when someone turns eighteen and goes off to college.
So this is when things get weird as the “discourse” of fandom starts to creep in. Because eighteen-year-olds have been interacting with sixteen-year-olds, (supposedly) young critics of the movement on Twitter have started talking about “grooming” and “abuse.” The activists have been busy trying to create meaningful political change, so they don’t know anything about the bullshit generated by certain fringe segments of the Voltron and Star Wars fandoms, and it’s been heartbreaking to watch them get sucked into conversations about “abuse” without understanding where they’re coming from.
I’ve also started to see Tumblr-style accusations directed at these activists along the lines of, “You claim to be anti-capitalist, but you’re going to college, which is a CAPITALIST INSTITUTION” and “If you claim to be anti-capitalist, why do you HAVE A JOB” and…
…and I just have to check out, honestly.
I know I keep saying this, but I’m tired of the tools and language of social work and social justice being weaponized to attack minority voices and marginalized communities on social media. Who does this benefit, exactly?
As it currently stands, the argument is this: If sixteen-year-olds are considered “essential workers” during the pandemic, and if they’re paying local and federal income taxes, and if they’re being teargased by the National Guard while they engage in civic protest, then they should be allowed to vote. In addition, if high school students are being asked to risk their lives and the lives of their teachers by returning to school, they want to be able to hold their elected leaders accountable.
Because I was disowned by my family for being gay, I became what’s legally classified as an “emancipated minor” at the age of fifteen. Although this status didn’t grant me the full legal rights of an adult, it meant I was legally responsible for myself. I was my own “legal guardian,” basically. I therefore have something of a personal investment and attachment to the idea of sixteen-year-olds being able to enjoy a greater range of civil rights.
In addition, as an educator and storyteller, this is the goal of a great deal of my work – for young people to feel informed, energized, and empowered. In my mind, whether they should be able to vote isn’t even a question. Any human being who lives and pays taxes in the United States should be able to vote.
(Also, if you think high school students are misinformed about politics and make bad decisions, have you talked to an adult recently.)
This movement started around two years ago, so many of its leaders are now eighteen, but they continue to support the cause by bringing in people who have just entered high school and have just turned sixteen. This makes sense because, again, a lot of these activists are coming from local BIPOC communities that don’t suddenly disappear when someone turns eighteen and goes off to college.
So this is when things get weird as the “discourse” of fandom starts to creep in. Because eighteen-year-olds have been interacting with sixteen-year-olds, (supposedly) young critics of the movement on Twitter have started talking about “grooming” and “abuse.” The activists have been busy trying to create meaningful political change, so they don’t know anything about the bullshit generated by certain fringe segments of the Voltron and Star Wars fandoms, and it’s been heartbreaking to watch them get sucked into conversations about “abuse” without understanding where they’re coming from.
I’ve also started to see Tumblr-style accusations directed at these activists along the lines of, “You claim to be anti-capitalist, but you’re going to college, which is a CAPITALIST INSTITUTION” and “If you claim to be anti-capitalist, why do you HAVE A JOB” and…
…and I just have to check out, honestly.
I know I keep saying this, but I’m tired of the tools and language of social work and social justice being weaponized to attack minority voices and marginalized communities on social media. Who does this benefit, exactly?
no subject
Date: 2020-09-11 12:10 pm (UTC)The sound I made, holy fuck.
People continue to floor me. Good job, Internet.
Yes, let's all just stop working for the sake of anti-capitalism, because that certainly won't cause more issues with the current state of The Everything. Let me shit out that $20k a month for my medication that keeps me alive, because insurance and healthcare is fucked up, but fuck jobs amirite?
...also, if I ever do magically shit out $20k per shit, I'll hook you all up.
no subject
Date: 2020-09-12 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-09-15 12:21 pm (UTC)