you can’t say that!

published 11.28.19

Brenda [she/her/hers]:

I was born in Mexico, but partially raised in India, traveled the world, middle school  in South Carolina, high school in Wales, and college in Massachusetts. My Mexican parents have now lived outside of Mexico for over 15 years. My two oldest sisters stayed abroad as adults, and I’ve jumped around between Boston, Denver, and Anderson, SC. In short, my family is somewhat of a Mexican-Masala. 

At the end of every year, we all fly from our respective homes down to Anderson to celebrate Christmas and new years. I love this time of year because it's a rare chance to convivir. In spanish,  “convivir” translates to convene and commune. For my sisters and myself, it is a time to be spoiled by our parents (in our pjs) and share stories of our pets, share our latest projects.

As an active anti-oppression facilitator and Founder of In.Visible Paradigms, it’s very difficult to ignore  the “isms” that we are witnessing in our current climate. I know I’m not the only one and I’m certain that this time of year, just like Indigenous Peoples Day and July 4th, Thanksgiving and Christmas can provoke some tension among our very own. 

Here’s what I have learned over the years:

  1. Everyone's experience of the conversation matters.

    In my efforts to challenge my family’s oppressive statements, I was consistently met with arguments, resentment and growing distrust. I was on the offensive and vigilant of their words. I realized that these moments created a “prosecutor and defendant” dynamic for everyone involved. With every year, it felt like the tension got higher and the build up always erupted in tears and frustration. So, up until recently, my coping mechanism to endure these moments was to suppress all my emotions and ignore their words. The conversations about these big ‘ism’s are important because they relate directly to systematic oppression taking place.  But they weren’t the conversations that needed to take place with my family. In my recent family reunion, a lot came to light about how I had caused injury. The feedback received was extremely difficult and painful, but it was necessary to recognize that these conversations weren’t easy for anyone. My family reminded me that the foundational pieces of relationships were interconnected with conversations about all the big isms. I needed to hear how my family experienced each other during these big conversations instead of simply staying at the surface with “You can’t say that!”

  2. Leverage your relationship! 

    During a very casual lunch, my sister approached our dad about the national  #MeToo conversation regarding Trump. Both news commentary and the President excused misogyny to a simple, “Locker room talk” (#stillmisogyny). She brought up how these conversations had affected her and asked for our father to share his thoughts. My sister leveraged her relationship with our dad and asked him to disrupt these statements with men in his life. She said, “I’m asking you as your daughter and a woman. You have visibility in spaces with men more than I do and I’m asking you to play a role.” I was amazed, proud and grateful about how quickly she leveraged her relationship to ask for support. It’s likely your dad, your mom, your sibling, your aunt/uncle and/or yourself have been that person who has said something offensive to someone else. And perhaps, you may be the closest person to them to open up a conversation. I hope you do. We all have a role to play and relationships are at the core of anti-oppression. 

Noemí (she/her/hers)

My immediate family sitting down for a meal together is a rare occurrence. We live in three cities across two countries and although we are so close, our schedules don’t always work.

We’ve never had a lot of small talk at the table either. My parents are both fervent Marxists so we spend a lot of time talking about politics. They defied their families expectations of them by marrying each other. A half Turkish, half Polish and Lithuanian Jew - born in Cuba but raised in Brooklyn in a conservative Jewish community and a dark-skinned Ecuadorian, Catholic choir boy fresh out of the military academy met salsa dancing in San Francisco. As a young couple living in New Orleans, Quito and the Bay Area, they experienced racism before the term microaggressions and woke were part of the popular vernacular.

All this to say, our family is comfortable broaching topics of philosophy, ethics, social justice and morality. I’ve always thought of my parents as highly tolerant, open-minded individuals. As times change, “political correctness” also changes. As a new generation with highly intersectional identities begin to influence media discourse, old rules are challenged. The most common remark my partner Sam and I hear is: “I want to do the right thing, but I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing.” And I can relate. We’re all learning (including us DEI practitioners).

A few months ago I was telling my family about a conversation I had with my friend. I’ll call her Ana. Ana was telling me about her brother’s partner who uses they/their/them gender pronouns. I was explaining how I kept getting confused because I wasn’t sure if Ana was referring to her brother’s partner (they) or Ana’s brother and his partner (also they). My parents are in their 60s and my younger brother just turned 15. I took note that my brother was the most eloquent in his explanation of the difference between gender neutral and gender non-conforming (and my work centers around inclusion and equity, but he grew up speaking this language - I’ve had to learn it. Listening to others and adopting vocabulary that allows them to feel equal is a crucial part of inclusion. If you learn something

Having this conversation at the dinner table reminded me to:

  1. Be patient.

    Not everyone is at the same point in their journey, and not everyone has the same exposure to these issues,  the tools to build their understanding, or perhaps interest. You may feel so activated and ready for these convos, but your loved one may find that other issues or topics are more important. I have a family member who gets angry when we start passionately discussing gender pronouns because he believes poverty is more important. And I see his point - Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.. .and neither issue should invalidate people’s suffering. They can both be important.  I’m admittedly not great at this one but reminding myself that not everyone has to agree with me has been a healthy step towards more civil dinner table discussions. But I understand why he feels passionately about this. And that brings me to my second learning.

  2. Listen fully.

    If we want to have productive conversations and not leave feeling angry or disillusioned, we have to truly listen. Not listen for the sake of convincing the other person or even trying to get them to see our point. Not listen to be polite. Listen fully. The better we become at listening, the more we can practice empathy and let go of our hard-wired biases and anger. Understanding why someone disagrees with you can be eye-opening and serve as a reminder of your limited perspective (there will always be a blindspot and an unconsidered perspective). Take the time to truly understand people’s motivations by leaving behind our competitive nature, and not for the sake of winning an argument.


by Brenda Herrera Moreno + Noemí Jiménez

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