I, along with tens of thousands of people, will be attending the Women’s March on Washington on December 21^st. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t; when someone as prejudiced and misogynistic as Donald Trump is sworn into office, the only productive way I can think to use my pent up energy is to pour it into organized action. There are few things I would be willing to miss this historic march for.

It seems, however, that not all of the women who were planning on marching on D.C. feel this way. While through some Facebook groups and events I knew that intersectionality was a large topic of conversation amongst marchers (and especially being emphasized by women of color), I was not aware until I read this article that there are some other white women who have chosen not to participate in the march due to this conversation. As a result of the discussions that women of color have lead online, they feel alienated and unwelcome to the Women’s March on Washington.

If you are one of these women, then let me pause and see if I understand your point of view correctly:

You are liberal and you are outraged. You were mortified when you heard the tape of Trump bragging about sexually assaulting women, and as a woman yourself you have a passion for feminism and standing up for women’s rights. You think that black lives matter, you were appalled by Trump’s islamaphobia, you think gay weddings are beautiful, and you are learning what it means to be cisgender. Perhaps you wear a safety pin. You admit that you benefit from some privileges and have room to grow, but overall you feel as though you’re pulling your weight. You’re a friend to the movement; you feel that you are one of those good privileged people.

And then you see these online posts and comments by women of color and those with other varying intersections that make you feel, well, attacked. They point out the history of the feminist movement and its favoritism towards white women, and they post online unapologetically about how white women need to step up their game as allies.

You think: “Why are you attacking me when I’m on your side? Why are you trying to divide a movement by race rather than letting us unify by gender? Why are you making assumptions about me?” You feel as though there is a disdain for (or misunderstanding of) white women in this community, so you are choosing to abstain from marching.

If this is the case, then I would like to flip the scenario for you. Let’s play a little game of make-believe, shall we?

Let’s pretend that the march planned for Saturday was never specific to women, but rather is a broader anti-Trump protest. You see more and more people committing to stand in D.C. against hate and prejudice and everything Trump represents. Let’s say that you would like to attend and make your voice heard, but you discover that there are no (or very few) women on the organizing team – it’s all made up of men. You might feel a little miffed, right? After all, there is an entire aspect to Trump’s agenda which affects women in a way that men can never fully understand, and excluding women just echoes the very kind of discrimination we’re trying to resist. It seems only logical to you that if there is going to be a march protesting all of the various types of hate Trump has encouraged, women should be a part of the planning process.

Let’s say the organizers listen to these remarks and then join forces with some intelligent, progressive women to make the march as successful and feminist as possible. You would probably see this as an important step forward, because our movement should be organized with proper representation.

But then some men start whining, claiming that these women are getting special treatment or that the conversation regarding including women is simply dividing the movement. “Why can’t we just unify?” the men wail. When women respond saying that men need to do the work to understand the oppression of women, that perhaps this is the moment when they let go of their #notallmen attitudes and put on their listening ears, these men scoff. “I’m not a Trump supporter! How do you know I’m not doing the work? Maybe I shouldn’t even go to the march, as it’s clear that you think all men are the same and I’m not welcome here.”

…Do you see what I’m getting at?

I’m hoping that framing this discussion as a conversation between men and women can provide some clarity. How is unity any less powerful when inclusivity is enforced? Doesn’t putting extra effort into being inclusive to women of all backgrounds only strengthen us? May I ask: is unity even possible if it ignores the needs of those who are different?

When you see posts by women of color (or other women of various intersections) calling out White Feminism, you may be reacting so strongly because you actually identify with their comments. You see yourself in their criticisms, and your gut reaction (as is common with all of us) is to respond with defensiveness.

But try putting that defensiveness aside for just a moment.

These women are really providing you with something wonderful: an opportunity to learn. Think about it! These are women of different experiences saying: “You say you want to be an activist, and you care about social justice and standing in solidarity with others. I’m going to take the time to tell you what real solidarity looks like as it pertains to my struggle.”

And if you are already doing the things that these women suggest, then you shouldn’t feel attacked at all by their posts, because you know it’s not addressing you. You should understand that when this person says, “Hey, white women, you need to be doing this,” she is not implying that there aren’t any white women who already are. She is pointing out that white women need to be especially vigilant about educating ourselves about white supremacy, and she is under no obligation to say “pretty pretty please with a cherry on top,” or “of course if you’re already doing this, then just keep on keepin’ on.” Minority women shouldn’t have to beg for your support, nor should they have to give you a gold badge for lending it.

We are in a moment of great urgency. People’s rights and lives are at stake, especially for women who aren’t cisgender, Christian, upper-middle class, straight, or white. You cannot get upset with them simply for treating their survival with a sense of urgency that perhaps you are not accustomed to.

No person is perfect and neither is any movement. There is no easy or correct way to pursue social justice or to be a feminist or ally; we can only commit to listening and doing our best. No one is claiming that you are not allowed to make a mistake, but simply asking that, when you do mess up, you hold yourself accountable and learn something from it. Refusing to engage and sitting at home is not the way to do that.

Discussions about race and intersectionality are only divisive if you choose to make them so. We cannot afford to fall into mainstream feminism’s exclusive tendencies if we ever hope to be a successful opposition to Trump’s mindset and policies.

So I ask of you – march with us. And maybe while you do, take a moment to listen to some of these women in person. Together, we just might get something done.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Resources on the march and intersectional feminism:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/womens-life/10572...

http://bust.com/feminism/18883-the-women-s-march-o...

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/2017/01/19/femi...

http://www.newyorker.com/culture/jia-tolentino/the...