For folks who just think that Black people and other folks should just deal with it and not make such a big deal, this article may be instructive.
This is pretty extreme, sure–but it’s what we get when we defend absolute free speech.
ISTM that what Strano is describing in that poem is exactly the sort of entity that is typically designated a “safe space”, one in which marginalized voices are “amplified” and it is “our space together” where “the world outside” is less intrusive.
In other words, it’s a place where the marginalized can get some relief from the constant barrage of entrenched prejudice telling them that they don’t belong and/or are not as worthy. I think perhaps you’re just objecting to the connotations of the word “safe” in the name, rather than to the actual goals of the “safe space”.
Yeah. I reeeeeally don’t think that the Martinez family suffering the racist harassment described in that article are merely “being challenged on a deeply held belief” or being “gifted” a “space of growth” to “discuss and confront” their “discomfort”.
Sure, but Strano is specifically stating that the space she’s defining is not “safe,” because of the scars we bear and the fact we cause wounds - as well as the aspects about marginalization you connote. “Turning down the volume of the world outside” suggests that the people in this space are committed to each other. And I’ve often been in spaces where people use “safety” as a means to disengage - “I’m uncomfortable, so I’m withdrawing” - rather than reflecting on why the discomfort exists and engaging. It doesn’t mean you just tolerate indignities, because bravery and courage require one speaking up when you feel that.
Generally when I’m working with students, there’s a preference for spaces of bravery, courage, and engagement. And we don’t always feel particularly brave or courageous at those moments - which is why committing to work together is a key aspect of this.
I’m not sure why you’re suggesting that what Martinez experienced is analogous to being in the spaces that I described.
I’m not. I’m saying that the spaces you described are effectively the same thing as what are commonly called “safe spaces”. You just don’t care for that name for them, which is fine.
You used the words I used to describe brave and courageous spaces in contrast to what Martinez experienced. And I disagree, bravery and courage are adjectives that connote agency and action beyond safety. I’m referencing spaces like classrooms and learning areas where people agree to come together and learn. That’s hardly anything resembling being racially assaulted.
I really can’t tell what you’re objecting to here. Starting with the fact that you don’t seem clear on whether you think I was suggesting that Martinez’s experiences were analogous to the way you characterized “brave and courageous spaces”, or in contrast to it.
The quotes in your response to Left_Hand_of_Dorkness seem to be exactly from what I posted in #200, which is where my objection comes from. If you’re not seeing why I responded as I did, I’m not sure what else there is to be said here.
Let me add my voice and say that this poem describes a safe space while saying it’s not a safe space… which is strange.
There are two different sort of safe spaces, and perhaps this is where the confusion comes in. There are safe spaces where people feel safe in expressing their opinions where they are listened to and politely engaged with (and yes, in order to do that, people are prohibited from certain things - like name calling or shouting down) and then there are safe spaces were people want to be free to withdraw from the politics of the world (ironically this is how some people, who tend to decry safe spaces, speak of sports when some group wants to speak about racial discrimination)
ISTM that that’s the point of the poem, and is a very poem-y thing to do: “Let’s think about the words we use and realize that although we call this a “safe space”, there are also aspects of it that don’t fit our superficial notions of ‘safety’.”
Fair enough. It does make a lot more sense that way.
So, I did a little Googling on this.
The poem you quoted was originally painted by Beth Strano on the door to a place in Phoenix, Arizona called “The Sp(a)ce.” The location has since been closed due to a fire, but their Facebook page is still up. If you scroll down about ten posts or so, you can see a picture of the door with the poem on it.
Per that Facebook page, the Sp(a)ce defines itself as “an anarchist social center [that] opened on May Day, 2015 to help provide a safe space for people who feel marginalized and foster resistance to systemic oppression.”
So, yeah, what that poem describes is literally a “safe space,” and is not intended as some alternative to the concept.
I feel like it’s reasonable for students to want a place to “withdraw” on a college campus. They don’t just go to school there, they LIVE there, and a cramped dorm room is not analogous to a home. You sleep in your dorm room. You live in a much broader space: the communal lounges, the library, the dining hall. They aren’t private, but calling them “public” isn’t quite right, either. They are part of your residence, just one you happen to share with lots of people.
It’s important to venture out into “brave and courageous” spaces, but I don’t feel like the only option for a safe, reflective place should be a shared bedroom. It’s reasonable for me to want some place where I can gather with my friends and talk without having to worry about someone at the next table interrupting with “well, actually . . .”.
It’s hard to say. But I can see how it might come about.
Anecdotally, my college was about 90%+ white. And mostly affluent white from the Northeast. And half of them ultimately joined fraternities and sororities. So it’s not hard to see how Asian or Black or Hispanic students might want to join their own groups, rather than pledge a house of 40 dudes named “Chad” and “Brad”. Many of those groups evolved into actual living groups. Often taking over houses previously occupied by fraternities who got kicked off for hazing or drunken shenanigans or whatever.
So it’s not hard to envision a trend in today’s current “woke” environment where the college landscape is transitioning from Greek houses full of elitist white douchebags in Abercrombie gear to a collection of various ethnic-themed living units.
Whether that hypothesis is actually bore out by data I couldn’t tell you.
This is actually quite interesting - because while I posted the Strano poem, I noticed that it didn’t have the words “brave space” in it, which is how I knew it - but it had the words and phrases I knew. Turns out another person, Micky ScottBey Jones, plagiarized the poem - she admitted to this, and she and Strano have committed to a reconciliation process. Here’s the plagiarized version:
Together we will create brave space
Because there is no such thing as “safe space”
We exist in the real world
We all carry scars and we have all caused wounds.
In this space
We seek to turn down the volume of the outside world,
We amplify voices that fight to be heard elsewhere,
We call each other to more truth and love
We have the right to start somewhere and continue to grow.
We have the responsibility to examine what we think we know.
We will not be perfect.
This space will not be perfect.
It will not always be what we wish it to be
But
It will be our brave space together,
And
We will work on it side by side.
Brian Arao and Kristi Clemens have a chapter, “From Safe Spaces to Brave Spaces: A New Way to Frame Dialogue Around Diversity and Social Justice.” Here they explain why the terminology of safety thwarts discourse regarding social justice:
We question, however, the degree to which safety is an appropriate or reasonable expectation for any honest dialogue about social justice. The word safe is defined in the Miriam Webster online dictionary as “free from harm or risk… affording safety or security from danger, risk, or difficulty… unlikely to produce controversy or contradiction” (Safe, 2010). We argue that authentic learning about social justice often requires the very qualities of risk, difficulty, and controversy that are defined as incompatible with safety.
They center their concept around Singleton’s concept of courageous conversation, and later state
Moreover, as compared to the idea of safe space, brave space is more congruent with our understanding of power, privilege, and oppression, and the challenges inherent in dialogue about these issues in socioculturally diverse groups.
Predominantly white campuses, like the ones I’ve worked at and currently work at, don’t usually have spaces of retreat because most spaces are communal. I currently work at a public state university, and no common space can be exclusive to any group. But there are spaces where certain (marginalized) identities are celebrated and embraced, and students, staff, faculty, and community gather there. Anyone can enter, though.
I’ve worked at campuses that have ethnic theme houses or residence floors, and it’s interesting to see how students craft the rules of who can live there. In one community I studied (private university), the students had a mission statement of the community they wished to create, which was one that celebrated Black and Latino culture, and welcomed those who came from those kinds of living environments, or wanted to experience being immersed in one. So there were kids of color from DC, New York, and Atlanta, but also from suburban enclaves where they might have been the only Black or Latino kid in their grade. And occasionally, a White or Asian kid would live there because of their prior experience and comfort in that community. There was an application and interview process by members of the community as well.