WHAT WE CREATE HAS POWER.
Therefore we, the members of The New School’s Fall 2019 Racial Imaginary course, pledge to uphold the following principles as we work to avoid reinscribing racist narratives in our creative and scholarly work.
Race must be understood as a fictitious category constructed by the ruling class over the course of recent history. What is meant by the commonly misconstrued phrase “race is a construct” is that race has absolutely no biological or physical basis, and instead was invented in service of slavery and colonialism. Race was imagined, written into history, and used as a justification for subjugation. As a result, race has created real social, biological, and material consequences.
The U.S. was founded upon racist violence, and the legacy of that violence lives on today. We cannot pretend that race does not affect everyone. Addressing race is necessary, and we will not let fear prevent us from addressing race in our work. If we fear criticism or backlash, we will research topics deeply to ensure that we are informed. If we fear that we are going “too far,” we will consider whether we are the appropriate speakers for the selected issue, and whether our medium is the correct vehicle for our message. We take responsibility for writing about race, because race permeates American life.
We will talk directly about race. By stating what we mean, we will avoid reinscribing racism in an unintentioned way. We will directly address the atrocities and realities of racism, even though it may make our audience uneasy. Addressing race directly and authentically, in all its complication, will help us avoid pandering to our audience’s comfort, and keep all of us from becoming complacent.
Systemic racism positions oppressed groups as “other” from the experiences of those in power. Stereotypes are a form of “othering,” and all stereotypes do harm. We understand that “positive” stereotypes can be just as harmful as negative ones. We refuse “othering,” and remember that art centering race does not need to center suffering, pain, or oppression. In narratives of oppressed communities, especially, joy and pleasure can be constructively subversive.
We will not give in to what Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie calls the “single story.” Like a stereotype, a “single story” is the repetitive representation of a community through a single narrative, such that this narrative dominates how the group is perceived. Like a stereotype, a “single story” does not have to be overtly negative to be damaging; all “single stories” dehumanize. We will avoid the erasure of “single stories,” and allow the diverse stories of our humanity to be told by the people who live them.
“One of my favorite quotes is an Ewe-Mina (peoples from Benin, Ghana and Togo) proverb: ‘Until the story of the hunt is told by the lion, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.’” —Zoë Samudzi, “We Need a Decolonized, Not a ‘Diverse,’ Education”
We will avoid favoring or relying on the perspective of the colonizer. Instead, we will center those voices and perspectives that colonialism, enslavement, and other racist violence have marginalized. These voices and perspectives have the power to rewrite falsified histories that have been told over and over again.
Our language is deeply entrenched in racism. To create as an anti-racist is to actively confront, challenge, and reexamine every word, every frame, every stitch, and every brushstroke. We must understand the meaning and power behind the language we use in our work, examining and reexamining our presupposed knowledge and potential biases, so that we can oppose and dismantle the language of the oppressor. Art about race must address racism’s historical and social context. We will create with an awareness of the history of race, and the context of our work within it.
Humans are humans—not stereotypes or archetypes or symbols or tools or fuel or set pieces or cargo or playthings or prizes or numbers or objects for our work. We will allow humans to speak for themselves, as individuals. We will work to center the power of those whose narrative agency dominant histories have sought to erase. In a world like ours and a time like this, this seemingly simple act of rehumanizing is revolutionary.