The day after Donald Trump’s inauguration in 2017, people gathered for the first Women’s March on Washington as well as sister marches across the United States and worldwide. According to the Women’s March website, “We were answering a call to show up and be counted as those who believe in a world that is equitable, tolerant, just and safe for all, one in which the human rights and dignity of each person is protected and our planet is safe from destruction.” The 2017 Women’s March became the largest coordinated protest in U.S. history and one of the largest in world history. However, the March was not met with praise from all around. The 2017 March was critiqued for its lack of intersectionality on many levels- speakers at the D.C. March were overwhelmingly cisgender and white, and imagery surrounding the March was overwhelmingly cis-centered.
The problem with the pink “pussyhats” and signs displayed during the March is that these symbols of “womanhood” are exclusive of trans women and non-binary people. In an article for Them, Meredith Talusan describes the 2017 Women’s March as “a prime example of how the movement marginalizes trans women and femmes.”
Many queer and trans activists expressed frustration with the Women’s March on Washington’s lack of intersectionality. During her speech at the 2017 Philadelphia Women’s March, Erika Hart, who is a black queer femme activist and sex educator, asked the crowd:
“Who is this for? Black cis and trans women, femmes and non-binary individuals have been under attack against gross misogynoir, violence, and body terrorism. We see it everyday, even at this march.”
Janet Mock, who is a trans activist and author, also spoke about intersectionality and its importance at the Women’s March on Washington in 2017.
“Our approach to freedom need not be identical but it must be intersectional and inclusive. It must extend beyond ourselves. I know with surpassing certainty that my liberation is directly linked to the liberation of the undocumented trans Latina yearning for refuge. The disabled student seeking unequivocal access. The sex worker fighting to make her living safely.”
In preparation for the return of the March in 2018, organizers spoke up about the importance of intersectionality and inclusivity and their plans to improve the 2018 March. The organizers made this statement on the March website:
We firmly declare that LGBTQIA Rights are Human Rights and that it is our obligation to uplift, expand and protect the rights of our gay, lesbian, bi, queer, trans or gender non-conforming brothers, sisters and siblings. We must have the power to control our bodies and be free from gender norms, expectations and stereotypes.
In Devin-Norelle’s interview with De’Ara Balenger, one of the organizers of the March, they discussed trans-inclusivity and intersectionality between the first (2017) March and the second (2018). Balenger, on representation during the March, says:
“The other thing about the women’s march is that hundreds of women and men planned this event, so it appears that only a small group organized it, but it took hundreds. I, as a black, Mexican, queer woman, recall being in a room in D.C. and saying to myself, wow, this is really a diverse group. And that was definitely a valid concern for us that we agreed on, but even so, it was definitely a work in progress. It’s one of the issues where this work is a practice and we’re all trying as hard as we can to hone into that practice and to perfect it.”
Balenger also talked about the importance and difficulty of leading a truly intersectional movement. It’s a fact that the “pussyhats” became a symbol of womanhood and the Women’s March, and it is an equally true and powerful fact that they exclude trans people. The “pussyhats” at the March are a perfect example, as Balengar describes, of the difference between intention and impact. The “pussyhats” came from another initiative, by the Pussyhat Project (a social movement separate from the Women’s March), but have, since their emergence, been tied to the Women’s March by participants and observers. Whether the organizers meant to be exclusive of trans people during the March matters much less than the actual experiences of trans people during the event or the sister marches. If trans-inclusivity was at the forefront of the March from the beginning, a separate “pussyhat” movement becoming central and connected to the March simply would not have been possible.
Speakers at the 2017 Women’s March in D.C. as well as many associated Marches were overwhelmingly white and cisgender. There was a distinct lack of trans and queer voices in the programming of the event, from speakers to which voices and stories were centered. In Katelyn Burns’ article for The Establishment, she discusses the disappointment many queer people experienced at the 2017 March, and writes that with issues like this, there is no choice but to look to the organizers. “There are no trans employees working for the Women’s March, and no board members who are trans. There are very few openly queer folx involved either. All of this showed in the convention’s programming.” She also writes, “Organizers have a commitment towards inclusion, but without measurable actions, they’re at risk of coming off as exploitative.”
The deputy head of communications for the Women’s March, Sophie Ellman-Golan, stated “If you are not for all women, than you actually don’t have a place in feminism. If you are not for all women, your feminism literally means nothing. If you’re only for women like you or for women that fit in your belief system or that fit your idea of what womanhood is, you’re not actually for all women. Therefore there’s not space for that. There is absolutely not space here for women who are going to tell other women that they’re not women.” Burns describes this quote as encouraging to hear from the Women’s March as an organization, but it does not change the impact and exclusion that many queer and trans women faced at the event.
According to Kristen Jordan Shamus’ article for the Detroit Free Press, “The state and national organizations, she said, have tried “to move away from the pussyhats for several months now, and are not making it the cornerstone of our messaging because … there’s a few things wrong with the message.”
The Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival is an event that occured for over 40 years and is explicitly trans-exclusive. It’s stated policy states that the space is for “women-born women” and while organizers of the festival claim never to have banned trans women or gender non-conforming people, there has been at least one instance of a trans woman being thrown out of the festival. The Festival gained more attention when the Indigo Girls withdrew from the lineup in 2013; since then it was subject to more criticism until the Festival closed after its final year 2015. It’s clear that the 2017 Women’s March was trans-exclusive, and even the 2018 March didn’t do a perfect job of incorporating intersectionality, as genitalia-based signage and “pussyhats” were still at the forefront of the March. But why focus on the problems with the Women’s March, where exclusion is unintentional and organizers are making an effort to improve, when other events, like the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival are explicitly trans-exclusive?
Trans-exclusion at the Women’s March is at least comparatively harmful with explicit trans-exclusive events like the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival because of the visibility of the March and trust that many people have in the intentions of the organizers and attendees of the event. Many people do not even know about the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival, but nearly everyone either has heard of or has attended a Women’s March.
Focus on extreme situations and groups turns a blind eye to the less obvious aggressions that affect just as many- if not more- people. When trans women are excluded from the Women’s March, an event that is at the center of modern feminism, it is just as bad or even worse than excluding them from something like the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival, which is widely regarded as illegitimate and problematic “radical feminism.”
Unfortunately, the situation has many more layers and complexities than what first meets the eye. “Pussyhats” were not the work of the organizers of the March, however, the fact that they were so quickly tied to the event and the movement is still evidence of trans-exclusion. The fact that genitalia-focused imagery centers cis women so strongly in the feminist movement, whether or not it was the “fault” or intention of the organizers of the Women’s March (2017 or 2018) is a problem.
Is rejection of cis-centric symbols like “pussyhats,” and “You Do You-terus” signs the only or even an important way to diversify the Women’s March? Or are they mere symptoms of a bigger issue? Perhaps more trans speakers at events like these would change everything; maybe centering trans voices is the answer. That is a question for the trans speakers at the 2017 and 2018 Women’s Marches and the larger trans and queer community. It’s possible that if trans voices were centered from the start, the emergence of the “pussyhats” and similar imagery during the March would not have held as much power.
Sources used for content/quotes:
https://www.them.us/story/weve-always-been-nasty
http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2017/01/23/erika-hart-womens-march-_n_14343218.html
https://www.thecut.com/2017/01/read-janet-mocks-speech-at-the-womens-march-on-washington-trans-women-of-color-sex-workers.html?mid=twitter-share-thecut
https://www.them.us/story/the-womens-march-needs-to-be-trans-inclusive
https://theestablishment.co/the-womens-march-movement-is-trying-but-still-struggling-to-center-trans-voices-3094667c9f24
https://www.freep.com/story/news/2018/01/10/pink-pussyhats-feminists-hats-womens-march/1013630001/
https://jezebel.com/trans-excluding-michigan-womyns-music-festival-to-end-t-1699412910
https://roygbiv.jezebel.com/i-dont-care-about-michfests-trans-exclusion-you-should-1621468728
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I believe there are many steps to take to make the Women’s March more trans-inclusive. While I rejecting cis-centered imagery and wording is important, organizers definitely need to focus more on centering trans voices. If leaders of the women’s march started with being more inclusive of trans people, the biologically-essentialist messages would probably not be so heavy, for a few reasons. One, trans organizers would be more conscious of their messages, as trans-inclusivity is necessary for them. Two, people attending the march would possibly have noticed that all of the “pussy” language did not include the women in leadership and reconsidered. It is possible that it would have happened anyway, but march organizers still need to make sure trans women are in the ranks. There is always a danger in a message losing its meaning when a movement is so large – millions of people can’t be kept in check like a small group can. Additionally, issues surrounding uteruses and vaginas affect a huge number of women, and this may be why those women chose to march, without intending to be exclusive. The elevation of trans voices must occur, not just so the Women’s March can have fewer vagina posters, but also because it is necessary to include everyone in the conversation. It is the responsibility of people in power (in this case, the cis organizers of the women’s march) to step aside and allow trans people to speak.
Hannah, this article echoed all of the thoughts I had about the Women’s Marches I attended, especially the second one after I came out as non-binary. Though I’m keeping in mind that I attended marches in two very different places (Little Rock, Arkansas in 2017 and Williamsburg, Virginia in 2018), I am still plagued by how cis-centric the Women’s Marches were. The only difference I personally saw was that in 2018 there was just less of the genitalia related posters or “pussy hats” in the crowds, which, to me, is not an explicit exclusion of trans and genderqueer people. I’m also writing this while I’m in D.C. after attending the March for Our Lives, and I must say, I felt much more of a sense of inclusion and general love of all people there than at either of the Women’s Marches.
This is an important comment. It reminds me of just how myopic I was when I attended the DC Women’s March in 2017. I was a typical white girl protester – mostly doing it for the rush and sense of historicity -and honestly, I never realized how the pussy hats were exclusive until someone pointed it out in this class. I really didn’t become critical of the March until after the fact, and while this is embarrassing, I need to acknowledge it because it shows how protests function for a lot of people. They’re scary and exciting and stressful, and I got so caught up in the moment that I didn’t look much past beyond my (white, cisgendered) nose. It makes me wonder how helpful such a broad protest can really be, since it doesn’t demand or encourage critical thought. The DC march was all about shows of force, not about provoking a real dialogue, and maybe that’s why it left so many people out of the dominant (white, cis) narrative. Your comment about the March for Our Lives intrigues me in part because it was driven by a demand for concrete change, and so it didn’t have to pull in identity politics like the Women’s March did with its “pussy hats” and general, barely-directed rage.
I really liked this post! I think your discussion of the intentions of the “founders” of the Women’s March is very important; we can recognize that the organizers did powerful, important work while still critiquing the lack of intersectionality at the event. The Women’s March reminded me that things are not just all good or all bad – in fact, most feminist actions / thoughts are problematic in some way, and it is vital that we remain critical of feminist action in order to complicate the cis / white / het norms that the movement often (accidentally at times) reproduces. I believe that many of the marchers’ / organizers’ intentions were good, but it is clear that the event lacked space for many marginalized folx. I think your idea of centering more trans voices is very important, and I also think that people with marginalized identities should have much more decision power in organizing these events.
Another thing I was thinking about when I read this piece was that it is very troubling that the Women’s March was so highly attended by cis white women while other marches / movements organized by trans people and people of color are downplayed if not completely ignored. The Women’s March was almost a social event – I knew many people who wanted to go for the “excitement” of the march. I think in many ways the Women’s March reflected many aspects of (white, cis, het, able-bodied and minded, class) privilege. Many women posed with police officers, for example, an action I find simultaneously baffling yet unsurprising. Ultimately, the critiques of the march, as you argue here, are definitely valid, and I think they need to be taken seriously when we think about organizing feminist events and start a dialogue about events that truly include all people and center the voices of those who are marginalized.
I also started wondering about something else when I was reading this post. How should we handle issues about “female-bodied” reproduction? I think there is some value in “reclaiming” the power of “female” genitalia, especially considering the intense power cis men in power have over individual bodies. But how can this type of reclaiming be done in a non-problematic way? Is it even possible? I think is it necessary that we erase the connection between womanhood and the presence of a uterus and vagina (especially considering how complicated and non-binary reproductive anatomy actually is), an act that is clearly trans antagonistic and trans exclusionary. But how might we go about thinking about reproductive rights specific to people with “female” anatomy without negating trans identity and experience?