going around in (Venn-diagram) circles
I keep saying I'm going to write about this, and I keep not doing so.
So here's a question I've been asking myself:
Why is it that I feel much safer in women-of-color spaces that are mostly cissexual and straight than I do in queer-and-trans spaces that are mostly white? Why is it that I've gotten so much more understanding from one than another?
I've been trying to suss this one out, because it confuses the hell out of me, and I've come at it from multiple angles. Is it just a coincidence of which circles I run in? Is is because the (white) queer spaces I've run in are far more clueless about white privilege and than the (straight) women-of-color spaces are about straight-and-cissexual privilege? Why is that? Is it because oppression-by-race is somehow a better beginning education in privilege than oppression-by-gender-or-orientation? I'm really not sure.
I've considered, too, that even a lot of the queer spaces I've run in are cissexual-dominated, so, to wit: I'm a trans dyke of color. Maybe it's a matter of cissexual (white) queer spaces and cissexual (straight) WoC spaces, really, dealing with me as two kinds of Other and fitting them together in different ways. So why is it?
I'd really like to have a discussion about these issues, because it's counter to a lot of what I was told as a baby activist--for instance, that communities of color have more of a problem with queer issues than white communities do. In my experience, that hasn't been true. Is it an economic-class thing, where some groups are just forced to live near the disadvantaged trans members of their group and thus have more familiarity through shared disadvantage? Is it a cultural-imperialism thing, where those of us with roots in more trans-and-queer-inclusive cultures are at an advantage compared to those whose ancestral cultures were not so understanding? Is it just an American thing?
I just can't figure out what it is, and it's not only an interesting question to me, it's a matter of safety. I've left a whole lot of primarily-white queer and even exclusively-trans spaces because they were not safe spaces for me as a woman of color or because there was simply a poor understanding of intersectional privilege and related ideas. Too much "Is Gay The New Black?" and not enough Gloria Anzaldua. Too many deeply transphobic LGb(t?) spaces, even ones labeled "trans-inclusive" that only really mean female-assigned genderqueer and transmasculine folks, you know? And I've found warm shelter over and over in women-of-color spaces that were by-and-large straight and other than me exclusively cissexual, with people who surprised me by considering it their own job to do their homework, understand my situation, and make me welcome--to really acknowledge the patterns of intersectional oppression. Why is that? Do I just run in the wrong trans and queer circles? Have I just been lucky in my POC circles? I honestly don't know.
What are your experiences with these dynamics? Are they vastly different from mine? Why do you think things are the way you've experienced them? I think there's something valuable to be picked out of these discrepancies, if we chip at them for a bit.
Labels: building blocks, queer, race, trans
posted by little light | 12:28 PM
22 Comments:
As a white cissexual heterosexual male with utterly no direct experience in these things from any relevant perspective, all I've got are vague guesses, but I do have a few of those. (They also seem rather random and disjoint now that I've written them all out.)
I wonder whether what the people talking about "communities of people of color" are thinking of are anywhere near the demographics of the ones you're in. One difference that jumps out at me is that you're talking about all-women groups, rather than a mixed-gender or all-men group; I would think that would affect things.
Also, given the vast cultural differences in various peoples of color, I wouldn't think a single generalization would fit everyone, and perhaps some groups are more inclusive and some less inclusive of non-gender-normative people.
And, completely beyond all that, it occurs to me that I often feel a lot emotionally safer with women than with men. I think some of it is simply coming off the fact that cultural-normative behavior for women tends more towards a "caretaking" direction (and towards showing emotions and listening to them) than it does for men, and that I feel a lot safer letting down my emotional guards with someone with whom I'm interacting in that mode.
And a third thought is to wonder how mature the relevant people are, and whether there's a disparity. It seems to me that there's a fair bit of white privilege (or maybe it's class privilege, male privilege, or all of the above) amounts to a relaxation of a requirement to be entirely a mature adult when one grows up. And part of being a mature adult, I think, is not damaging your community by being unsafe to other people in it.
Similarly, I wonder if oppression-by-race is a better education in "you gotta stick together to make it in this world". Certainly it's vastly more likely than queerness to imply that one grew up in a family and community that were facing the same oppression as a community, rather than growing up facing it in isolation without any community backing. And I would imagine that makes a huge difference in how one deals with it, and what skills (and even habits) one has in forming a supportive community in that context.
Huh. Adding to that last bit: Someone growing up as a queer white person (especially with an intolerant family) probably got almost no enculturation in "this is how you form a supportive community of people like you who are all facing cultural oppression", and lots of experience with "community/family is the thing that threatens you and kicks you out for not conforming".
And, like lots of those patterns, it's hard to break them even when you know they're there and know they're wrong.
I think you're on a couple of interesting points, Brooks. One of them is I'm sort of cheating, because most of the people of color I run with self-identify as people of color. That is, they have specifically chosen to use an umbrella or coalition term that emphasizes shared experiences and oppressions among a hugely variant set of groups of people. I identify as Pinay, or as Asian-American, or as Ashkenazic, or whatever--but when I identify as a person of color, I'm doing so as a choice that reflects my belief in solidarity between various of groups who could be named under the umbrella. Like "queer," it's meant to function as not just an identifier but as a political statement about community--I belong to this much larger whole.
So running with a sample set of mostly-self-identified-POC means I'm automatically dealing with people more likely to have considered issues of oppression, solidarity, and coalition across differences.
But by that same token, most of the "LGBTQQQ-and-sometimes-I" people I run with self-identify as queer, which is also a politicized umbrella term meant to emphasize resistance to shared oppression. But I think "queer" is also wrapped up in a discourse of...how shall I put this...how does Julia Serano put it? Subversivism?
The idea that the more "subversive" or unsettling to the mainstream/oppressor group, the more "real" and "good" and "hardcore" you are. I use "queer," and most of the arguably-queer people I know who revile the term are--okay, all of them are gender-normative, cissexual, upper-class, able-bodied white gay or bisexual men. And I think that's telling. But I think it's also subject to the same pitfalls you see when the trans community stratifies on street cred based on how non-gender-binary identified you are.
Even I catch myself pulling that. You can't invalidate me as a woman who is trans! I'm a dyke! I wear cowboy boots and jeans and I cuss and know how to throw a punch and I drink beer! You can't pin that reifying-the-gender-binary bullshit on me! I'm not hyperfeminine or nothin'! Hell, I only own two dresses and they're only for occasions, maaaaan! And it's silly. It's a silly subversivist defensive tactic, like I'm somehow a "better" woman than a trans woman who's high femme, just because I'm gender nonconforming sometimes.
And that brings us to the other thing, of course. When it comes to race, there I am with a learned sense of community and sticking together. When it comes to trans status? One of the first things I was taught, that I'm still working to unlearn, is that sticking together gets you beat down quicker, and you take any way to cover yourself--yourself--that you can. Got forbid you even be seen in public with another trans person. God forbid you assume you're welcome in general queer space, or in men's space or in women's space, or in the bathroom. Keep your head down, sister, if you want to keep it. Get yours and get going. Maybe that's because I grew up--even in an overwhelmingly white town--with two brown brothers and a black surrogate sister and a brown mother, but I was the only queer kid in my family. So there was some measure of safety in numbers as a brown girl, but there was nowhere safe as a queer trans girl.
I've learned better lessons since then, but we can all get a little better about that.
This-all is good for my brain...
I'm so guilty of the "You can't pin that reifying-the-gender-binary bullshit on me!" thing. ugh.
You're right about the first lesson as a trans person too. I fight very hard not to overreact when I'm around large groups of other trans* people, especially when many of them have just come out.
As for the real content of your post, I've no real input. I have felt very uncomfortable in some queer spaces, both male and female dominated. Some of that may be that I just don't get out much, which is something I'm attempting to rectify.
I've no experiences in WoC exclusive spaces, and no experience in PoC dominated spaces since coming out.
(In this case I'm speaking of physical spaces or groups, ones solely on the net.)
I figure "straight/cis-dominated space" are just normal. I mean, us trans folks (and all queer folks) are always in a minority and maybe always gonna be. Calling a space "straight/cis-dominated" says nothing to me about how committed they are to being allies or that it was necessarily constructed according to our own exclusion, y'know? There's more of us than people think but there's a whole lot more of them!
But can we say the same about all-white spaces? POC are the majority in this world. Outside some parts of Europe, almost every white space has been constructed through violence and is invested in denying and maintaining that. I'd be more likely to assume the scarcity of POC in a space DOES say something.
Just my first thoughts. Thanks for writing as usual!
- y
This-all is good for my brain...
My brain wanted to go to bed, but noooooooooo, you just had to update.
(On a side note: I think I may have been using "queer" because it allows people not to have to assume that I'm not bisexual. It's like the potential without the messy actuality, you know? Schroedinger's umbrella.)
I'll be back tomorrow, too, I think. This is a really interesting discussion. And I've been thinking about intersections lately, instead of getting to sleep on time.
Subversivism is based on the idea that a marginalized group has a common image rather than common ground. It's not about being the most monstrous. It's about those incendiary traits filtered through fashion. Tangy, not unpalatable. And if you're stuck in a double bind, you can't adopt cues that are thrilling rather than disturbing.
Maybe "queer" spaces have offered you less solidarity just because you don't get to be "queer." For all its benefits over "homosexual" or "gay" as a collective modifier, it doesn't seem to stick to trans women, along with a whole host of other people.
Have I just restated the question?
I'm wondering: transmisogyny keeps queer spaces hostile to all kinds of trans women, but can transmisogyny be separated from racism? Teh Trans Issue is definitely racialized, whether it's the soft bigotry of ignorance or the stereotypes perpetuated about trans women and trans people. Like transphobia and classism: start saying exclusionary things about trans people, and you'll start making moral judgments about money.
So maybe...transphobia in "queer-friendly" spaces is cutting you twice.
--piny
I suspect that there is some element of, how do I put this so it makes sense, Queer Movement Adolescence-- by which I mean that, as a group, the younger people who are involved heavily in the queer community tend to be a little histrionic, and some of them have what I like to think of as Superlative complexes--more opressed, more poor, at-risk, yada yada. Much of the hardest work for cisgendered queer people has been done, at least in some urban centers, and the people who stay involved after the requisite larval period tend to be pretty self-involved. I certainly feel like many queer people, myself included, never get involved with GLBt groups as adults because we don't have the right party-line opinons, and we sometimes like to think about other things, and get pushed out because of that.
I wouldn't be at all surprised if the community of women of color you are involved in is just more mature--as a movement certainly, perhaps also individually. And honestly, if this community includes people from half a dozen ethnic communities, thats six times as much practice in dealing with people who are culturally different from you in a hundred ways most people never think about. The white queer community only has the one binary to transcend.
I keep running into reminders of how /awkward/ queer/trans social interaction can be sometimes. There's a couple in my biology lab, a bio girl and transman, and they're so /classic/--but he isn't out to me, and I certainly don't know what other people know about him--how do I let them know I'm part of the family without insulting him? etc. I'm pretty sure we, um, outed ourselves to eachother gracefully enough, in the end, but there seriously has to be a better way to navigate these moments.
polerin: "Some of that may be that I just don't get out much...."
It occurs to me that one of the things about being in a group of trans-whatever people is that, sort of by definition, it's a large group of people -- many of whom you probably don't know, or don't know well enough to completely trust -- to whom you're out about your trans-whatever-ness. That's a pretty unusual situation, and one that would under any other circumstances be pretty high-risk. And ... well, I would imagine that some of the people there are probably not visibly trans in ways that cause that visceral "this is one of my people" emotional reaction, too, though I don't know.
By contrast, being PoC means that in most cases everyone knows you're a PoC, and you generally can immediately tell at the animal-hindbrain level whether you're in a PoC-exclusive (or PoC-dominated) space or not.
I'm not sure it's true that "WOC" is always a visible category, precisely because it's the nature of racism to ignore any nuance. It seems like "POC/WOC space" can become a very fraught boundary, just like "women's space."
I think there might be some big differences in the way the affiliation is marked, though--differences that will tend to punish many trans people. If you're being graded for sufficiently visible queerness, but also on how well you pass at or succeed at your post-transition gender, what the hell do you do to make all your new friends accept you? It's kind of like bisexuality: nominally a kind of queer, but one that also contaminated by access to hetero privilege. So...okay, you can either downplay your actual queer orientation in an alt-sexuality space, or you can accept partial membership in it.
I should probably clarify the "racialized" comment: it was late, and I couldn't find the word. I mean that a lot of transphobia sounds strikingly similar to racism. "They're too aggressive," for example. And that it also seems like some of it is just an extension of racism and white-centering. "They don't care about gay [or women's, or lesbian] issues. They only want to talk about prison rape and police brutality and homelessness."
WoC= Consciously intersectional. WoC have experienced racism from white feminists, and sexism from male anti-racists. They have been accused of "detracting from the important issues" by both camps. So even if they are het and cis, they understad that there is more than one kind of bigotry.
Warning: what follows is a white boy blabbing.
Thanks so much, little light, for putting a big flame under this topic.
As a white, Ashkenazic Jewish, gay, born-and-raised-as-a-boy-to-be-a-man in a not-so-butch-male-man environment, I have been taking in this conversation with great interest, noting some contradictions and confusions in myself as I listen to what people are sharing here.
Here are a couple of experiences and observations, some coins, maybe two cents, to toss into this fountain of inquiry. And I am making wishes as I toss, for illumination, clarification, self-awareness, and deeper cyber-community.
The white queer community I'm aware of that is physically in my vicinity--of which I have been part is not all white but is definitely white-centric and white-dominated. It--and there are several constituencies of this group--tends not to deal with its shit around raised-boy-to-man, living as a man, white, and class privileges. It's probably best at dealing with transphobia, heterosexism, and to some degrees ableism. BUT that comes with a requirement that anyone of any color or ethnicity be willing to adapt to liberal to progressive white-dominant, Academy-educated space and culture. Self-defined religious conservatives and political radicals are not really all that welcome, except in theory. And I find that theory isn't very comfortable to sit on for long periods of time. (Or, for those of us who were in the Academy, it can get a little too comfortable, which is a whole other problem.)
Around these parts, there's no room at the Inn for PoC who are not accustomed to being around and taking emotional care of white folks. (You know: whites require being called out in ways that they can "hear", not in ways that PoC need to express themselves.) No room at the Inn for women who've got safety issues being around a lot of unchecked male supremacy, sexism, misogyny, and the like. Now, to be honest, the queer community divides up here this way: lesbian/FtM trans, and gay/MtF trans--regardless of levels of transitioning. And the white gay community divides up along class lines: those who are or aspire to be middle class or richer, and those who know they will never have an semblance economic security, because dad and mom can't just "transfer funds" and make the "poverty" problem go away.
There are enough white queer Jews around to make me feel somewhat at home, but as a militant anti-racist (among white Jews who don't all know they've got white privileges, which is, of course, but one manifestation of their white privilege), and a militant anti-misogyny activist, I'm bumping into all kinds of shit that makes me feel "other-and-outta-there". I don't have group-level community so much as I have some damn good and strong friendships scattered about North America, primarily, which is to say, I got some community, but not the kind that has in-person get-togethers, dances, bring what ya got dinners, reading groups, movie nights and stuff.
I've come to feel most at home in social spaces, cyber and otherwise, where folks feel relatively safe to call one another out; I'm less comfortable, or downright uncomfortable, in spaces where privileged folks want to be "safe" from being called out.
If I speak stupidly, harmfully, or arrogantly from my many places of privilege, I welcome hearing about it, and sometimes manage to not be defensive at all! I don't expect people without my privilege to do that work for me, but rather for themselves and our relationships, which is to say, for their sense of belonging and effort to not be so isolated.
This is what gets in the way, for me, which crosses a lot of terrain, including class, race, sexuality, gender, age, and disability.
Being around privileged folks who expect to be taken care of by those we oppress, and expecting to be able to control "how" we are called out. As a white guy who calls out white friends on racist shit, male-man friends on misogyny and sexism, and straight folks on heterosexism, I am generally "undesired" to be in social spaces where doing this is regarded as "disruptive and divisive" as opposed to "welcomed and valued". For me, calling one another out in ways that are meaningful and validating to the oppressed in the group is a necessary thing to build community, not a way of being that destroys community.
Y, above, wrote about oppressors and their social zones and "how committed they are to being allies or that it was necessarily constructed according to our own exclusion". That hits the nail on the head for me. I've given up on groups of white folks even being able to make spaces that are truly welcoming, let alone comfortable, for PoC. I've given up on feeling at home in straight spaces. I have no expectations that straight folks' lack of homophobia really means they understand the most BASIC stuff about growing up queer. (Likewise about being Jewish among Christians. Tolerance and acceptance is not enough. I'm wanting a bit more enthusiasm and celebration and openness to learn about ethnic and cultural differences.) I'm feeling really pessimistic about race-, gender-, class- and dis/ability-privileged folks dealing with our/their ignorance and insensitivities honestly, let alone ways of maintaining power, keeping privilege unchecked, perpetuating modes of dominance, and staying in control.
This much I've observed about those of us who are men and/or white, hetero or queer: we take really good care of one another, unless there's a drunk in the house. I know there are exceptions, but over-generally speaking, whites and men do not call one another out on race/gender oppressive stuff. Most whites I know, with the exception of a very few white radical feminist dykes, will overtly or not "show me the door" if I call them out often "too much", which means more than once a month, I think. The same for men, which in my case is usually but not always white men. Gay or not, the male-men don't want to hear about how their incessant use of the b word is "problematic". Let alone the c word. My solution has been to withdraw, quite significantly, into the few good friendships I have, which are with folks who are fun white working class fundamentalist Christians, white lesbian feminists, and heterosexual and queer radical female-born women of color.
And what I realised by reading the discussion here, is this has a lot to do with my race and class privileges. My extreme sensitivities to, and aversion to being around masculinist, heterosexist, classist, ableist, ageist, and racist groups of people plays out in what I am realising is a very privileged response: I leave. I get my ass to the door before its shown the door.
The last paragraph of Brooksmoses's first comment (8/2/09 21:59) speaks to this. I grew up white and Jewish in a largely white Christian family. I grew up queer in an entirely heterosexual-identified family, and I grew up in mixed class spaces. In some of those spaces, if you are pissed at one another you figure out how to cope, and stick together; in other white spaces, the more class privileged ones, you leave or are left if you aren't getting along.
Got forbid you even be seen in public with another trans person. God forbid you assume you're welcome in general queer space, or in men's space or in women's space, or in the bathroom. Keep your head down, sister, if you want to keep it.
That. That. Yes.
Without a doubt, I've felt that dynamic bubbling up in (primarily) white trans activist communities I've been a part of. And it's hard, hard, hard to unlearn. We went to the trans march at SF pride, and even doing that, surrounded by friends and my girlfriend and support support support was challenging. More than it ought to have been, at any rate. The subversivism plays into this, too: not only is it “dangerous” to be in communion with other trans women, but there's always some part of the community you're not transgressive enough, transitioned enough, cool enough—etc—to join.
But then there's the bit where my community, the people I'm surrounded with who work together in love: most of them are queer, varying shades of radical, and white. And that's a space where I feel enormously safe and supported. Maybe they're just my oppressors, so it's okay.
Someone growing up as a queer white person (especially with an intolerant family) probably got almost no enculturation in "this is how you form a supportive community of people like you who are all facing cultural oppression", and lots of experience with "community/family is the thing that threatens you and kicks you out for not conforming".
Definitely.
But then, white queer people don't have a monopoly on community rejection. I've never really felt part of the Indian community (other PoC communities, yes; “mine”, no), and I think the community's embedded white supremacist assumptions have a lot to do with that. Even the Indian activist communities that I've experienced have been really conservative—we're minorities, sure, but we're model minorities, which means the white power structure likes us! Wouldn't want to rock the boat and lose our cushy tech jobs and H1 visas.
In response to the comment that said that cis dominated spaces were natural and all-white spaces were formed through violence: pay attention to the slippage there, between all-white vs. white dominated; all-cis vs. cis dominated. All-cis spaces have all been carved out through violence, physical, verbal, financial, institutional, and the degree of cis-dominatedness we see in most activist communities, particularly queer ones, has been carved out through violence.
I only mention this point because I think naturalizing the non-presence of trans folks (particularly: trans women in radical spaces) by saying there aren't very many of us, or more precisely by never having to say that, just assuming it, is part of how those spaces justify themselves/resist being called out/don't examine their shit.
And as far as all-white spaces, it's never natural, but the degree of its not-being-natural is frequently outside the hands of the organizers. Rural Minnesota does have POC, but an all white group in MN or OR means a *very* different thing than an all white group in Chicago or NC (where I'm from originally). It's a legacy of genocide and slavery and orientalism either way, but the dynamics are different.
ON ANOTHER TOPIC,
I think that institutional medical abuse of trans folks does also have something to do with it. In addition to being trained into self-hate by pop-culture-at-large, trans people's mental health--which is necessary for really dealing with one's shit and creating safe space--the trans medical establishment has engaged in systematically impairing our ability to take care of ourselves and each other. When you have too many people who aren't safe in themselves, you can't have a safe space for anyone, let alone someone who they can claim to be better than. The converse being that cis queer people have yet another leg up on you, and yet another on top of that if these trans/queer spaces include people who aren't trans women/trans female spectrum (in that, for the most part, they're either men or cis or both)
(There's also something to be said for trans and queer folks having higher rates of identification with cissexual/straight dominance than POC have with white dominance, and so they're actually still wielding conditional cis/straight privilege. You mention having no-I'm-better-than-those-trans-women feelings about gender--if a lot of people in a group are having those feelings, even only subconsciously, even without expressing them, the space won't be (as) safe.)
One other thing: when did "queer" go from being the white term to being the POC term? In "Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens," Cathy Cohen writes about how she doesn't use "queer" because it's so inflected with white privilege & single-issue-politics (in its subversivistness). But now it seems the other way around.
Subversivism is based on the idea that a marginalized group has a common image rather than common ground. It's not about being the most monstrous. It's about those incendiary traits filtered through fashion. Tangy, not unpalatable. And if you're stuck in a double bind, you can't adopt cues that are thrilling rather than disturbing.
YES.
The comment about the medical violence, I should clarify, is not so much about it being "worse" as about trans folks being taught that support is violence, and that boundaries are impossible.
Just checking in here. I'm not sure either. Sounds like it could be any or all of the above. All I know is I, too, am feeling increasingly uncomfortable in all-or-predominately white spaces, for whatever that's worth, queer included (although it helps, usually. it depends on the context, yes). and it makes my heart sink a little every time I read something like this; or Renee confronting yet another clueless HRC (or whoever that was) ad and its defenders...but, I haven't known if it's because I feel more comfortable calling out people who're closer to "home" (i.e. other white queer cis folks and/or feminists), or if my perceptions/experiences are indicative of some greater norms, or what.
I've less experience in POC dominated spaces (much less exclusive, obviously), but at minimum I definitely wouldn't say I've felt more homophobia there than among white straight folks, on the whole.
mostly I associate more homophobia/transphobia with certain churches or other conservative religions, some of which might overlap with anti-racist or other social justice activism (which certainly isn't limited to religious institutions/communities that're mostly of color--Catholic Church anti-poverty, anyone?) Outside of that--I don't honestly see why on earth it would be that communities of color have more of a problem with queer issues than white ones do. -Especially- if we're pitting straight/straight: in that case I usually feel the opposite.
and after writing that i realized: Catholic Church may well be predominately of color in its attendees/congregations in the world as a whole; I was thinking of the institution, more.
One other thing: when did "queer" go from being the white term to being the POC term? In "Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens," Cathy Cohen writes about how she doesn't use "queer" because it's so inflected with white privilege & single-issue-politics (in its subversivistness). But now it seems the other way around.
Huh, I hadn't realized. I mean certainly a lot of the white folks I know self ID as "queer," still. Maybe it depends which particular communities/location you're in?
Subversivism is based on the idea that a marginalized group has a common image rather than common ground. It's not about being the most monstrous. It's about those incendiary traits filtered through fashion. Tangy, not unpalatable. And if you're stuck in a double bind, you can't adopt cues that are thrilling rather than disturbing.
*koffculturalfeminismkoff*
except, you know, -not fashionable-, and proudly so, or something.
I definitely had some similar experiences. I came out as trans when I was working for a campus LGBT group, and a few weeks later joined a Native women's group (maybe half of us were queer). The Native women's group was totally supportive of my presence despite having a confused and still forming non-binary identity that at the time wasn't man or woman. They even all stood up for me to have an intervention when another WoC who had been involved in the groups activities but not in the group asked me to take up less space because an event was "for the women."
Meanwhile, my (white) LGBT co-workers couldn't even get my pronouns right and were struggling to address issues of racism in the group. It's clear to me which was more supportive.
I've noticed a lot of white spaces (with the notable and welcome exception of white disability spaces) have pathologization of emotion--that is, you express any real emotion and they shut you down. You can't be your genuine self. Few PoC spaces have that atmosphere.
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