Last week, the Minister responsible for the Status of Women, Martine Biron, refused to support a motion proposed by Québec solidaire in the run-up to International Women’s Day, which is held on March 8 each year.
In particular, the motion encouraged the National Assembly to “gender-differentiated analysis from an intersectional perspective in order to defend the rights of all women in Quebec”. It is the notion of intersectionality, here, which would have cooled the CAQ.
The concept may seem abstract, but precisely, with the approach of March 8, it would be important to understand what it is about. If the government decides that its feminism is not “intersectional,” the implications are dire. So let’s explain.
The word “intersectionality” was popularized in the late 1980s by American law professor Kimberlé Crenshaw — but it refers to a way of understanding and fighting for women’s rights that has existed in many forms, on many continents.
In her research, Kimberlé Crenshaw notably looked into a lawsuit against General Motors (GM) in which five black women accused the company of discriminating against them. However, the courts found at the time that GM could not be guilty of racism, because it hired black men on its factory floor, nor of sexism, because it employed white women in secretarial positions. A company could therefore systematically refuse to hire black women without there being any words, nor therefore any legal grip, for this type of discrimination.
The researcher therefore proposed the term “intersectionality” as an analytical tool. I insist, here, on the word “tool”. Intersectionality is a tool that makes it possible to better name and understand social inequalities that are difficult to consider if we take “-isms” in isolation, and therefore to better act on them.
Example. We know that women with disabilities are more at risk of sexual violence, and that it takes different forms. For example, they may be vulnerable to abuse by people on whom they depend for certain care. The government of Quebec must therefore understand the “intersection” between ableism and sexism if it wants to offer services to prevent and fight against sexual violence that truly meet the needs of all women, including women with disabilities.
Without an intersectional approach, government programs are like “one-size-fits-all” clothing in the stores: meant to fit everyone, they don’t fit anyone. If not, perhaps, to the “average woman”, whom its creators imagine all by themselves in their heads.
Another example. It is known that black women are more likely to develop certain types of health problems than other women. We think of uterine fibroids, in particular. We also know, thanks to American studies, that certain cancers, such as breast cancer, are on average more aggressive in black women. A Public Health that “cannot see the colors” cannot adequately sensitize the entire population according to its levels of risk, and the nursing staff cannot recommend screening tests accordingly. By refusing to collect data that allows for a “gender-based analysis from an intersectional perspective,” to use the text of last week’s motion, we can very concretely affect the quality of life and longevity of many citizens.
Examples like that, we could give dozens of others. But the basic principle remains the same: when you pretend that all women are the same, you cannot treat them fairly.
Often, resistance to intersectionality is expressed through fear. Why speak, among women, of our differences? we ask. Wouldn’t that be trying to divide us? Is intersectional feminism, by definition, not very “unifying”? Why not rather talk about the big fights that affect all women, and focus our efforts there?
These are good questions—but they all start from a particular premise. These types of questions imply that the diversity of women is… a weakness. Something we’d better ignore to form a stronger movement. Whereas, in concrete terms, movements that pretend that all women are alike necessarily lead to exclusion. The more women move away from the “average” condition that we imagine to be the “ordinary” reality of all, the less their rights risk being defended by this type of feminist movement.
Another example. Many domestic workers come to Canada on temporary work permits, often tied to their employer. They are therefore particularly vulnerable to abuse of power by their bosses. But a feminist movement that prioritizes “unifying” fights will never organize a mobilization for the rights of foreign domestic workers.
After decades of so-called “unifying” feminism, therefore, women’s rights have advanced in a host of areas. For many, the legal battles are largely behind them — mores still need to be changed. While for others — such as foreign workers, but also sex workers, trans women, etc. —, important legal reforms have yet to be implemented, and they are being done much later.
A feminism that is not intersectional, therefore, is a feminism where certain women “line up”, eternally, without the hour of their rights ever arriving. If this feminism is CAQ feminism, it would be better to say so clearly, ideally before March 8.