Rethinking Intersectionality

Dave Chappelle has been in the news a lot recently.

In case anyone is unaware, the comedian released his most recent stand-up comedy special The Closer this month (at the time of this writing). It has been the subject of widespread controversy and discussion, primarily due to jokes about the LGBTQ community (specifically the transgender community) concerning the Black community. The spectrum of said discussion has been wide, from unadulterated praise in support of Chappelle to outright dismissal and calls for the special to be pulled from Netflix.

This article could be the start of a series on The Closer. As someone who watched the special to speak on it should the moment arise, there is enough material in its 72-minute runtime to spend weeks dissecting it and writing about it. I know that because people have done that, and continue to as Chappelle says and does new things in the wake of the show’s release. I am not treading new ground here. I’m aware of the thousands of people who have made their voices heard on this matter already. Some defend Chappelle as the last bastion of comedy; others question what they perceive to be a steep decline from the quality of his past work. 

There is an angle that I’ve seen very few people (and next to no outlets) take, however. It’s not as popular an angle as asking questions like “how far is too far when it comes to comedy?” for the billionth time, but it cuts to the heart of the matter with much more precision.

That angle is looking through The Closer through the lens of intersectionality.

Intersectionality is a concept that was formulated by professor Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989. At its core, intersectionality is the idea that all oppression is intertwined. Social categories of race, gender, class, sexuality, etc.- all come with systems that marginalize individuals within those categories. Intersectionality understands the overlapping discrimination between these categories leads to incredibly unique experiences, experiences that must be considered when maneuvering in the world. I’ll use myself as an example. I’m a black, cisgender, heterosexual male who comes from an upper-middle-class family. While I experience discrimination due to my blackness through racism, I benefit from other societal structures like patriarchy and heteronormativity. My economic background also ensures that I do not endure class oppression the same way others do. Understanding how marginalization and privileges intersect is key to understanding the world around oneself, as things can get increasingly complicated as more layers are introduced. Black women experience misogyny and racism, but they will experience the former differently than a white woman and the latter differently than a black man. If they are a black trans woman, that adds a new set of experiences that will differ from their counterparts in their community.

Even a brief analysis like this shows how complex a topic this can become. It’s simple on the surface to understand that people benefit in some ways and not in others, but as more and more things get added to the conversation it becomes increasingly important to use tact, care, and grace. When it comes to achieving equality, all things must be considered. Discussions of equality that lean too heterosexual, white, cis, middle class, able-bodied, etc will be discussions that leave someone valuable out. Focusing on one group over another is how we got into this mess in the first place and working together to undo things instead of becoming tribal is crucial.

This is exactly why The Closer falls apart as soon as this lens is used.

Instantly.

Dave Chappelle, a cis straight rich black man, spent over an hour railing against the trans community in numerous ways from equating being trans to blackface to calling himself team TERF and aligning himself with JK Rowling. I use the word against because whether he wants to admit it or not (and he certainly doesn’t want to), he has pitted the black community against the LGBTQ community. You cannot end a special imploring the LGBTQ community to “stop punching down on my people” and then turn around and act like you weren’t being inflammatory. Not only this, but one of two things is true: either he did it without thinking of the black LGBTQ people who will be (and have been) caught in the crossfire, or he thought about them and did it anyway. 

The worst part about Dave’s rants is when he touches on something he thinks is poignant without realizing that the same thing works in reverse. When he says that “Gay people are minorities until they need to be White again” to thunderous applause, that applause needs to be replaced with “Heterosexual black people are minorities until they need to be straight again. We are all in a system that allows retreating into more societally accepted parts of us when the time calls for it, which is something you should understand completely considering you’re a black man who has almost certainly code switched before. Focusing on the way another group can do it at your inconvenience will get us nowhere, especially considering they can throw that same logic back at you.”

When he says the following:

“I’ve been arguing with the Whites my entire career. Just when I thought I had you guys on the ropes you changed all the rules. “Oh yeah?” – Yeah, motherfucker! – “Well.” I am a girl now, n*gger. You must treat me as such.”

He doesn’t seem to get that if you replace whites with straights and girl with black, his logic can once again be thrown right back in his face. (It’s also an incredibly glib and tasteless way to reference conversion therapy.)

And when he says this:

“No, no, go back, go back tonight after the show, watch every special I did on Netflix. Listen to everything I’ve ever said about that community. I’ll go through ’em. I said, “How much do I have to participate in your self-image?” I said, “You shouldn’t discuss this in front of Black people.” I said, “I know n*ggas in Brooklyn that wear high heels just to feel safe.” I asked you “Why is it easier for Bruce Jenner to change his gender than it is for Cassius Clay to change his name?”

He fails to realize he’s 1) asking black trans people the first question as well, 2) removing black trans people from the equation in the second question, 3) once again diluting the trans experience and 4) a part of the cis crowd that made Jenner’s change so controversial in the same way a white crowd made Ali’s so controversial.

(This applies to things outside of The Closer as well, while I’m on the topic- in his previous special Sticks and Stones, Chappelle told a story questioning why he could say the n-word on TV and not the f-slur. When told it was because he’s not gay, he responded with “I’m not a n*gger either,” completely missing the point. It’s not smart, it’s silly. He is not a part of that community and asking “why can’t I say it” is eerily reminiscent of the swathes of white people who say the same thing to black people.)

In a time when violence against trans people (black trans women specifically) is at its highest rates ever, it’s beyond irresponsible to use a platform as large as Chappelle’s to be as ignorant as he has been. While a good majority of people argue about his work in terms of the nature of comedy and perceived cancel culture, real people are dying every day as he aligns himself with the transphobic instead of learning. Understanding that all our sufferings are intertwined is the key to making sure that no one suffers at all anymore.

If he ever realizes that one day, I hope he finally stops punching down on his people.

There’s plenty more to talk about, plenty more dots to connect, plenty more context to give. We’ll continue doing so next week at 2 PM.