A few days ago I stumbled across the end of a conversation on tumblr that was discussing how the word “phobia” is an appropriative term and should no longer be used to describe “fatphobia” “transphobia” “homophobia” etc. I couldn’t find the original links, but I gathered that individuals with medical phobias i.e. “arachnophobia” etc. felt that use of the word “phobia” by fatties, gaylords, and trans identified individuals was appropriative, and that people should find some new ways to describe the cultural fears about their bodies and existences. I was not part of the conversation that occurred on tumblr, however I had a conversation about this today with some fellow feminists, (some of whom have very intense phobias, and some whom experience cultural fears and violence around their bodies and presence in the world). It was wonderful to discuss this today in a space that was filled to the brim with brilliant critical thought, and all of my points to come were built by those who were part of the conversation. Sometimes conversing or communicating on tumblr is somewhat difficult, and I may be taking this out of context, if so please let me know.
To begin I can’t say enough that it is not my intention to be hurtful, call individual people out, negate experiences, or tell anybody that they are wrong. I am happy this conversation is happening and my intention is to provoke critical, honest, and respectful debate around this recent dialogue. Also, I am not saying that medical phobias are not real, and do not profoundly affect individuals lives (as someone who has/does experience medical phobias). I just think we need to strongly interrogate the notion that we cannot use the word “phobia” to explain the social and cultural fears that float around in mainstream western society about marginalized groups. Here are some highlights of our discussion:
1. By prohibiting certain ways of talking about ‘phobias’, we privilege the medical use of the term. In Canada and the U.S. knowledge produced by the medical system is valued and respected by mainstream culture. I would really like to encourage some critical thought around what the privileging of dominant forms of knowledge means for marginalized groups. As I said in my post on Fat Solidarity: “western medicine is white, heterosexist, and largely does not [speak for or properly] serve the needs of queer, fat, gender variant, racialized, or poor communities”.
2. These ‘phobias’ operate on different linguistic levels. One emerges from a medical context that focuses on the individual, while the other highlights collective social and cultural fears about individuals that do not fit into normative ideas around citizenship and belonging. Language is always imperfect, and that has to be okay. Or else you are Luce Irigaray (if you are, that’s okay too and let’s have coffee).
3. Changes in language usually involve dialogue that happens in our communities (good examples include recent discussions around the appropriate use of the word ‘tranny‘ as well as the need to shift away from ableist language like ‘crazy’. It is simply not enough to just tell people that they are no longer able to use a word. Without creating understanding around why words are problematic, we cannot shift the mindsets that create that problematic language use in the first place. I also feel like it is a bit exclusive and policing for me to read that language I use to describe my experiences of oppression is being taken away from me, my loved ones, and my communities and I want to give people a chance to create that dialogue here and discuss this in more detail.
4. I don’t think that it is ever okay to say that one type of phobia is more “real” or “legitimate” than another. Just because they mean different things, it doesn’t mean that one is more real or important. Also, the claim that medical phobias are the only ‘real’ phobia de-legitimizes the multiple fatphobic, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic encounters that many of use experience in our day to day lives.
*We all navigate the world in intensely varied ways, and just because this is my perspective, does not mean that it has to be yours, or that we can’t communicate about this. Not all of the superheros/feminists present in the aforementioned discussion have tumblr, but Katie and Sabrina do. Check them out.
I am constantly amazed by how sexy your brain is
This is a really interesting and well-reasoned post, but it makes me uneasy—especially the third point, which reads as really privilege-denying to me. I live my life in the intersection of fat and mental illness. So while I really am torn here, I think I’m coming down on the side of finding a new term.
Despite the problems (and yes, they are many) with the Western medical system, “phobia” is a word that represents a specific experience of a group of people who are frequently marginalized because of that experience. Only a marginalized group can decide when something is offensive. Bottom line. And in this case, as I understand it, a marginalized group (people with a specific kind of mental illness) feels that their experiences are being appropriated, and I think that fat people, as another marginalized group actively fighting for social justice, needs to respect that.
I’m aware that I, personally, am linking this to recent conversations I’ve had about the use of the word “crazy” which left me feeling defensive and questioning my language politics. I’m still questioning them. But ultimately, I think it’s better to err on the side of caution—the side of not offending people by appropriating their experiences. Cutting words out of our vernacular is difficult, but it is more difficult to endure the sensation of voicelessness that accompanies having one’s experiences appropriated and often misrepresented in the course of that appropriation.
I’m aware that I get really nitpicky about language, that I may seem hypersensitive. I’m coming to the conclusion that the way we use language in Western society, and especially in America, reflects a fundamental lack of awareness of and empathy for those individuals whose lives and subjective experiences are different from our own as individual speakers and especially from the experiences of the language makers. The language makers, the people whose words are listened to, read, published, have overwhelmingly been white, middle- or upper-class, and non-disabled.
Ultimately I think we need to move towards a new paradigm of creating and using language, in a broad sense. In the short term, I think “fat hatred” is a fairly serviceable (and perhaps even more accurate) term for talking about the bigotry that fatties encounter.
Reblogged because this conversation is important. As someone with social phobias who is fat I know my fear and anxiety with regard to certain things is a lot different to the shitty treatment of fatness and fat people. I will strive to use “fat hatred” in the future.
Also along similar lines, I use “fat activism” for my work when challenging fat hatred instead of “fat acceptance” following a discussion with Sam Murray at the Fat Studies conference. Sam voiced concern about the word “acceptance” because in her experience “acceptance” speaks for a kind of passive tolerance rather than what people who talk about fat do - we challenge assumptions about fatness and fat people in activisty ways. Even if we’re walking down the street eating an ice block (hat tip to Charlotte Cooper), posting photos of ourselves on the internet or writing about our lived experiences in fat bodies.
So I’ve been using fat activism as my banner for the last year because I agree with Sam. Our culture doesn’t need to merely accept us, it needs to completely integrate with us, represent us and work with us. Also crucial to fat activism is when fat intersects with disability or race or gender or sexuality or class… we can not ignore this. Fat doesn’t just stand alone as an issue to “accept”.
Nervously hitting post now…