Translator: Morgane Quilfen Reviewer: Denise RQ
There are many men in my life that I look up to.
I have two grandfathers of the Windrush Generation
that came to this country in the 1940s
and now in their 80s, have comfortably retired.
I have a father: funny, intelligent, and rich in wisdom.
And sometimes, when I'm in the presence of these men,
I feel as if I'm in the presence of greatness.
But sometimes, when I look too long into these eyes,
I see eyes full of pain and regret.
I see the eyes of men
that didn't completely break the cycles of abuse
that they saw their fathers commit.
I see men that claimed
that they would be radically different to the men that came before them,
but sometimes, just sometimes,
they find that they embody that which they once despised,
and it breaks them.
I see eyes that speak volumes,
but mouths that would never articulate the pain that they feel.
I speak of the men in my life,
but really, my life is dominated by women.
I come from a powerhouse
of strong, fearless, passionate, and compassionate women:
two Caribbean immigrant grandmothers that worked tirelessly for their families,
whilst continuously overcoming the odds;
a mother - the epitome of strength and resilience;
five sisters - the dreams of our grandmothers;
aunties and cousins whose wisdom remains the soundtrack to my life;
and a niece, Disney Channel, emoji-obsessed
(Laughter)
but with the heart of everything I could ever aspire to be.
But three years ago, something very strange happened.
In a South London hospital, at about quarter past midnight,
for the first time in a very long time, a little boy went into our lives.
What were we going to do with a boy?
It was all very new for us, but we would have to deal with it,
as you do.
And I remember when he was born, and I remember being transfixed,
particularly by his eyes.
Because when I looked into his eyes, I didn't see eyes full of pain and regret.
I saw eyes that were blameless
and held inordinate propensity for greatness.
I saw eyes that could break cycles
and redefine what masculinity meant for a new generation of men;
eyes that no longer had to be silenced;
eyes that could cry -- and believe me, they would cry now!
But how would they [gear] down the line?
Feminism: we've been told it's about ridding our culture of sexist thinking
in order to liberate women.
So, my nephew doesn't really come much into that conversation.
But if we saw feminism as a means of freeing our culture
from patriarchal thinking and domination,
then the conversation would change.
(Applause) (Cheers)
Thank you.
Narratives surrounding feminism have often focused solely
on why women need feminism.
We focused on individuals, the battle of men versus women
rather than a multifaceted system of patriarchy
that, too, harms our bothers, fathers, and friends.
Of course, women face the consequences of sexism
in a very tangible way, on a daily basis,
and so it makes sense that we would be at the forefront of feminist movements
and their attempts to end sexism.
We face inequality in the workplace,
we are discriminated against much within public policy,
and a president can be elected into the so-called free world
that espouses hate and violence towards us.
It is imperative that feminism transforms and empowers women.
But for me, realities of patriarchy are realities that affect us all,
and revolutionary feminist thought is the understanding
that being seriously committed to feminism means being seriously committed
to ridding our culture of patriarchal thinking
that harms both men and women.
Because from an early age,
boys are taught that they must perform masculinity
in an hegemonic manner
or their chance of social survival is slim.
They are taught that they must be tough,
and consequently, when they feel weak, they must perform strength;
when they feel inadequate, they must perform confidence;
and when they feel emotional, they must only ever perform anger.
So in 2014, when Emma Watson became the bastion for modern feminism,
claiming HeForShe was the mode in which we needed to adopt a new feminism,
I feel as if the point failed to grasp
the entirety of the situation we currently face.
The campaign argued
that men and boys should be encouraged to take action
against negative inequalities faced by women and girls,
in order to be agents of feminist change.
In other words, men should be allies.
But how can we ask men to just be allies
when they are, too, victimized by the same system?
How can we ask men to be allies
in a world that leaves them 20 more times more likely to be imprisoned
because they are taught to be violent;
four times more likely to commit suicide because they are taught to be silent;
and the least likely to ask for help, both physically and mentally,
because they are taught to be strong?
Much of the performance around masculinity
is rooted in men not being able to express how they feel
in the same way that women can.
And so, when I talk about radical and revolutionary feminism,
I talk about feminism that understands the importance
of ridding patriarchal culture in men, for men.
A feminism that understands the importance of spaces
where men can engage in dialogue that patriarchal culture doesn't permit,
where they can talk about their worries, their interpersonal relationships,
and their personal growth
so that cycles of pain and regret can be broken.
At a quarter past midnight,
when my beautiful nephew entered this world,
I asked myself,
"How will a young black boy from South London engage in a dialogue
that encourages him to think critically about masculinity,
that inspires him to question pre-existing notions
of what it means to be a man,
and to get to grips with the entirety of who he is as an individual
by exploring a plethora of his emotions?"
Feminism, we've been told, looks like this, this, and this.
But what if I told you that radical and revolutionary feminism
was taking place right now,
and it looks more like this, this, and this?
In 2016, [Tis, Donae'O] and Cadet released a song which I consider to be
one of the most radical and revolutionary feminist projects of the year,
"Letter to Krept."
The song outlines the relationship between himself and his cousin,
another famous rapper, Krept.
In the song, he outlines his fragmented relationship with his cousin,
and discusses how constant comparison to his cousin
has caused him much pain.
He publicly voices troubles he has had within his family relationship
and outlines mechanisms for healing.
He finishes the song by telling his cousin that he loves him,
and reverses the narrative of what male, particularly black male relationships
are supposed to look like.
Cadet subverts the notion that grime is hyper-masculine
in more ways than one,
and shows how rap can be used to subvert particular discourse
within popular culture music.
If that wasn't legendary enough, his cousin released a song replying,
telling his side of the story.
For me, the two rappers indicate
what healing patriarchal discourse in the public square can look like.
Rap, a culture that foreign eyes have often dubbed as hyper-masculine,
has provided a space where two men can engage in healing dialogue.
And this song doesn't stand in isolation;
it's true to say that rap provides an outlet,
whatever that outlet may be.
Feminist thinking has always understood
the importance of outlets.
Black feminists in the 1960s, in deviating from mainstream feminism,
became increasingly concerned with creating narratives
that expressed their lives and their realities.
And it's true to say that from such a generation,
we saw some of the best literature a generation ever saw.
From the likes of Maya Angelou, to bell hooks, and Toni Morrison,
rap continues that legacy.
This is a genre of music
that expresses the complexities and realities of modern urban life.
It's provided an outlet of emotion
and the successful means of getting men to engage in issues
that affect their lives and their communities.
And yes, it is true to say there is that rap music
which embodies that which we wouldn't consider
to represent feminist ideals.
However, it is dangerous to observe these realities
within a cultural vacuum.
If rap is patriarchal, capitalist, and misogynist,
surely it's because it reflects a world
that is equally, if not more so, patriarchal, capitalist, and misogynist,
and not because these are concepts that have been created by this culture.
Rap is indeed a culture, and it is diverse,
and it speaks many different languages,
and far too often we've only been told of one those languages that it speaks.
And so the argument that rap embodies all these evils
is ill-informed, short-sighted,
and a narrative that too often we have heard.
But what if we flipped the narrative?
What if we saw rap differently?
If we saw it as a mode
in which men have been able to discuss their emotions
in a vulnerable and fragile way.
Men who have been told that their emotions aren't valuable
find a space where such value is given.
And in a society where a growing number of men,
particularly black men,
are suffering from mental health problems
as a result of this lack of communication,
this mode of dialogue should be celebrated as revolutionary,
and not evil and backwards.
bell hooks famously said
that "the soul of feminist politics is the commitment to ending
patriarchal domination over the lives of men and women, boys and girls."
And it is here, where we will see freedom.
Our happiness, our existence
is predicated upon the fullness in which we can live,
and if men were able to live in that fullness,
free from patriarchal domination over their lives,
our realities would change,
we would see a cultural revolution.
For far too long, mainstream feminism has critiqued a genre of music
that may be the closest thing to radical feminism we have ever seen.
Because feminism wants to heal patriarchal destruction,
and rap has and continues to provide
a means of dealing with some of that destruction.
Rap and feminism can be best friends,
they just need to look at each other with a new set of eyes.
Because we're living in a world
where hearts stop beating and eyes start closing
every single day
because of the realities of patriarchy.
But we need to live in a world where eyes can live, heal, and transform,
because the mandom need feminism,
and my nephew and little boys across the world
need eyes that glisten with hope,
so that they, their sons, and their grandsons can live fuller lives.
Thank you.
(Applause)