We have been thinking for quite some time about the relationship between fear, dualistic thinking and oppression. From our experiences, dualistic thinking leads to simplified, essential interpretations of identity that fail to grasp the complexity of a situation or experience. This kind of either/or rather than both/and thinking is embedded in U.S. culture and often leads to perpetuating fear. As organizers, we know that fear comes from a person¡¦s lack of understanding, experience or information about something or someone. If a person is thinking and operating from a dualistic framework this increases the likelihood that they may be fearful of something or someone that does not reflect their reality, way of thinking or their experience.

In other words, dualisms give us very limited options as to how we relate to one another and to the world around us because this framework does not allow us to see the nuances or to fully accept a reality that may be different than our own.

Fear of bridge people, people whose very existence transcends categorical definitions, lies at the heart of a culture that constantly perpetuates violence on bodies that are not been deemed socially "acceptable" Brown, Black, young, female, gender variant, differently-abled bodies. This violence finds its roots in fear: fear of difference and fear of people who are working to integrate the mind and the body. This is not new: the body has always been a location for perpetuating oppression and violence. Lynching and rape are two very painful and historical examples of this. We believe that what people fear about mixed race and gender variant people are our androgynous, gender variant and multi-racial bodies. And as a result, we experience violence in our bodies: verbal and physical assaults, exclusionary actions and policies that deny our existence.

Fear has also come to us in the forms of exclusionary politics that hide under the masks of inclusive language. We can't tell you how many times we have confronted this hypocrisy! Two examples come to mind: First, the use of language such as LGBTI in movement contexts where Bisexuals, Intersex and Trans people are not actually welcome, present, spoken with, considered or when where they are merely tokenized. The second example is specific to the Feminist movement, when time and time again, Women of Color have been invited to sit at the table, and then promptly excluded from the conversations that surround them - including in the development of the agenda.

We find politics that insinuate separation of self so offensive: the use of language that gives the impression that we are welcome to join agendas that are not respectful or inclusive of our experiences or realities.

For example, within the Feminist movement, Lesbians have been welcomed; Women of Color have been "welcomed" into separate spaces. When Lesbians of Color have confronted the lack of integrated spaces to address our lives, we are asked to separate ourselves, and we have been told our issues are not relevant. Though this serves as one example, the same can be said of most movements at this time. We have, in our efforts to appear to be doing the right thing, developed language that seems inclusive when in reality our actions are divisive and painful: many people who are anti-racist still cannot deal with mixed race individuals; many people who are anti-homophobic and feminists still do not see Trans, Intersex or Bisexual people¡¦s lives as related to their own because it¡¦s simply too complicated.

Moving the Movement Beyond Identity Politics As We Know Them

"If we are interested in building a movement that will not constantly be subverted by internal differences, then we must build from the insideout, not the other way around. Coming to terms with the suffering of others has never meant looking away from our own."
                ~ Cherrie Moraga in the Foreward to the 2nd Edition of
                This Bridge Called My Back

We believe we must move beyond identity politics in their current form. We know that this statement may shock, disturb and upset many people. We make this statement from a place of deep respect for the powerful and visionary people who pioneered the thinking and practice of identity politics. For many oppressed communities identity politics have given us a fundamentally important way to forge sense of belonging and solidarity within and between communities.

We must move beyond identity politics because the current framework is suffocating us. What once was revolutionary has been appropriated and used as a tool to further divide our movements. We have misused this beautiful, important and necessary concept so much that we have created narrow boxes, appointed individuals and built institutions to police the boundaries of identity. Unfortunately identity politics have not evolved as a result because many of us are not open to adding, expanding, throwing out, re-creating, re-envisioning identities. We are simply holding onto the identities and categories we know and feel comfortable with - leaving others outside the door trying to make their way in. The more complex one's identity, the less likely it is that they will get a `pass' from the gatekeeper that deems them acceptable and legitimate enough to enter the room.

We must revise not just the concept, but also the practice of identity politics. What do we mean by the practice of identity politics? We may want to find a way to define what we mean by practice. The amazing people who revolutionized the way that we think about identity, community and belonging never intended for us to get stuck in static categories. In reality, their theories and calls for action were quite the opposite. Where have we gone astray?

We seek to build alliances with anyone who is committed to busting binaries because we believe that we must all have the freedom to live as whole people. Until we are able to integrate all of who we are into the framework of what we do, we will remain actors in the service of maintaining a divided world.

The key to our survival lies in our abilities to create whole selves and whole communities and to undo the divisions that have been drawn across our lands and bodies. However, before we can achieve this kind of solidarity, it's important to highlight the kinds of bridges that need to be built and the binary busting that needs to be done before we can forge the kinds of alliances that deepen our understanding and practice of identity politics. We offer the examples of our own experiences as mixed race feminists who see busting binaries around race, gender and Anti-Semitism as starting points in the re-visioning of identity politics.

How Our Mixed & Gendered Bodies Bust Binaries

Gender variant and mixed race people are bridge people. Although we are not the only communities to be confronted by rigid identity politics, our communities and struggles serve as examples of how bridge people have and will continue to change the nature of identity politics.

Our bodies and experiences bridge, challenge and change the very essence of identity politics. Our being is unsettling to the identity police who misread, violate, exclude, ignore and fear us because we cannot be shunted into narrow either/or identity frameworks. This is what mixed race and gender variant people have in common: we bust long established binaries to the discomfort of even the most "progressively" minded people. Transgender, bisexual, intersexed and mixed race activists face similar questions of legitimacy, priority and belonging within larger, more visible movements.

We both have had experiences where our belonging and legitimacy have been questioned, as the following statement from Ana indicates:

"There have been so many pieces of my life that have highlighted the ways in which fears function to hurt, limit and violate people: being mixed race, perceived as Black in some contexts, as white in others. Being a butch Lesbian, sometimes perceived as a man and sometimes as a heterosexual woman. Being Jewish and being perceived as not. These limits of perception have taught me about what other people fear as a result of how they have perceived me. Based on these perceptions, people have made decisions as to whether or not I am `allowed' to participate, and how I am supposed to participate - usually without consulting me. Issues I bring to the table are not seen as valid because of whom I am perceived to be. People also have made decisions as to whether I am `normal' or not, and have acted accordingly."

Lisa's experiences tell a similar story:

"I have been to many feminist conferences and `women only¡¦ spaces where there have been heated confrontations brewing about whether Trans women `belonged' and were going to be `allowed' to participate. At the same time heated confrontations were brewing about whether mixed race women `belonged' and were going to be `allowed' to participate. This clearly highlights how binaries can be operating simultaneously in ways that completely distract us from the real conversations we need to be having. As a light skinned Woman of Color, I am fully prepared to engage in hard conversations about my privileges. Yet, what I often encounter instead is a heated conversation about whether or not I am legitimate enough to even be in the room. Where does it get us as a movement when a critical mass of potential allies are left standing on the other side of a closed door while the "truly legitimate" police the lines of identity? The conversation and work ahead is not about legitimacy. Rather, it's about power, privilege and oppression. When will we stop busting out litmus tests and start having the necessary conversations we need to have to hold ourselves and one another accountable?"

These experiences have led us to raise serious questions about the impact that binary thinking and practice has had on our movements. These questions include: What role have dualisms played historically in our movements? How have dualisms led to our misuse of identity politics? What questions do we need to consider in developing a vision for moving forward?

Even though our movements have rested on the rhetoric of inclusion, for the most part, they have adopted the dualistic framework of our society. There are many historical and contemporary examples of this:

**The Abolitionist movement silenced black women (even though black women were central to the work);

**The Suffragist movement removed itself from the cause of abolition;

**The labor movement (until recently) did not recognize the issues of immigrant laborers of color;

**The Civil Rights movement has addressed issues of Blacks and whites in the U.S. without touching the issues of the LGBT leaders and activists within the movement - to the point of disassociating with them;

**The current anti-war movements demonstrating the use of swastikas by people of color and Jews as symbols of protest.


Our movements have not only disowned or ignored the ones who challenge our causes, they have also developed narrow definitions: of womanhood within the Feminist movement, to the exclusion of queer women, women of color and trans folks; of race, to the exclusion of those not fitting a clear black/white dichotomy, including immigrants, mixed-race folks, and other people of color; of sexual orientation and gender identity, to the exclusion of bisexuals, transgender and interrex folks and people of color.

Building Bridges with Our Mixed and Trans(cendent) Bodies

How is it that we stay whole in the face of all of this? There are some really powerful tools that we have developed to confront the violence, fear and isolation we often face. These tools include: developing new language to identify our own experiences while challenging the language and practice of oppression; creating communities where wholeness is the central value; telling the stories of our lived experiences; and taking actions against oppression based on the truth of our realities. These are tools that bridge people use to hone and shape and mold new layers to our skin and backs.

Our lived experiences have proven that we ARE possible and not a theoretical aberration. In turn, we believe that bridge people have developed abilities to be compassionate when others around us are subjected to violence: we recognize its many forms, and feel the pain as it reverberates in others¡¦ experiences. The understanding that we are all human beings, worthy of dignity and life is a powerful tool, and the fact that we must often face rejection and misunderstanding from the people who birthed and raised us makes us stronger on our own paths and unafraid to confront false demonstrations of love. And finally, it is our realization that the constructs around us are not real, but maintained by those who create and confront injustices. And, when it comes down to it, a lot of us are healers (traditionally and socially) and on the path of healing ourselves and others.

It is also our history of struggle and vision that continues to keep us whole and strong. It was Trans folks who literally kicked off the Gay Liberation movement. It was their belief in their right to exist as who they are that gave them the strength and conviction to stage an outright battle with cops. And they were Trans people of color, living in the center of who they were and would become (not in the margins as many would argue). It was women of mixed race/ethnic heritage, such as Cherrie Moraga, Gloria Anzaldua, and Audre Lorde along with others, who were able to enter the spaces of Feminist Movement and pick up on the subtle and not-so subtle ways in which women of color were excluded. They gave us new language to identify our own experiences while challenging the language of oppression.

Gender variant and mixed race communities are just two examples of why movements for social justice need to move away from rigid identity lines. Though we recognize the historical and political values of those identity politics, we must honest about the limits of our movements. We must start to sit at the table and develop new alliances and push the rigid lines of our movements into softer molds.

Before us lies a fundamental question: How can stronger bonds of solidarity be fostered between binary busting activists, specifically mixed race and gender variant activists, so that we can formulate a collective strategy for challenging dualisms throughout our movements? We know that we do not have all of the answers to this question. However, we do think that an important place to start is with dialogue and sorting through what strategies have and have not worked across communities. For example, we know that single-identity movements (traditional Marxist movements), while strategically very powerful, often end up losing more people than not. While cross-identity movements and practices, for example the Color of Violence Conference and its outgrowth - INCITE!, build strong, grassroots energy for social justice work.

We also want to say up front that we do not believe that the mixed race and gender variant communities are the only communities challenging dualisms. We constantly need to expand the circle to include as many people from various perspectives as possible. Together, we believe we can begin to build solidarity in the face of the barriers we encounter.