COMMENT
This week Nike released its 30 years of the 'Just Do it' slogan as the face of its campaign. He famously ‘took a knee’ during NFL games to protest racial injustice, subsequently losing his contract. Fittingly, the Nike ad reads ‘Believe in something. Even if it means sacrificing everything’. The optics of a black man standing up to a white establishment and garnering corporate endorsement is a powerful one.
Seeing the bullied flip the script in this instance, from being the disruptor to the hero, paints a powerful example in countering the status quo. Nowhere is this more pertinent than in politics. Cracks in the establishment are heralding gradual change, evidenced in the United States over the past month following the appointments of women en-route to Congress, including Palestinian American Rashida Tlaib in Michigan, Somali American Ilhan Omar in Minnesota and New York’s Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of Hispanic background. In all, 38 of the 107 women serving in US congress are women of colour. Out of the 535 seats in the United States Congress, women make up just 20 per cent. A minority within a minority, these women represent the vanguard of grassroots voices in a globalised world.
Linking that back to Australia, we share a similarly paltry 25 per cent of females in office of this government, which according to former foreign Minister, is ‘not acceptable’. I would go further and say that the proportion of women of colour within this cohort is even more unacceptable.
This brings to bear the reality so often discounted in lamenting the dearth of gender diversity within political representation that continually overlooks the absence of cultural diversity as well. And this matters because as a multicultural nation, our leadership lacks due reflection.
When Julie Bishop talks about 25 per cent of females being an unacceptable figure for her party, it’s hard not to respond with a ‘welcome to our world since forever’.
I recall participating in public forum a year ago in which a cohort of prominent Australian business people and policy makers discussed the lack of diversity in leadership. Not surprisingly, the all white, middle class, CIS gendered panel of two female and one male speaker spent the entire session lamenting the frustrations of gender imbalances at decision making levels on boards and in government. They argued this would never bode well for meaningful outcomes as ‘half the population’ would be strategically underrepresented. Not surprisingly these comments were met with enthusiastic nods and applause from an audience who overwhelmingly mirrored the make-up of the panel. I’m not going to lie, this felt like a scene from the Stepford Wives.
As I shifted in my seat, increasingly agitated at the myopic perception of ‘diversity-means-just-gender’ in too many mainstream settings, I experienced a moment of cathartic relief when the only other woman of colour in the audience put up her hand to ask a question. She respectfully acknowledged the struggles of feminism to gain footing in leadership, then went on to ask "what about accounting for cultural diversity as we plan ahead for more inclusive leadership?". I virtually high-fived my sister from across the floor, feeling an immense rush of victory for a statement that was begging to be said. The rush was crushed, though, as the woman facilitating the session dismissively responded, "We need to get the gender done first. Cultural diversity will have to wait". At first I thought she was being satirical, but alas, no one snickered and she casually moved on to the next question having single handedly reduced an issue of social inclusivity to the wayside, into the ‘too hard basket’. Because, privilege is blinding.
This experience has been symptomatic of the struggle women of colour endure in their bid to gain a platform and contribute to a narrative that shapes 1 in 3 Australians who were either born overseas or have a parent who was. Instead, their experiences are appropriated for curated opportunities because they are too complicated to occupy a permanent seat at the decision-making table. When Julie Bishop talks about 25 per cent of females being an unacceptable figure for her party, it’s hard not to respond with a ‘welcome to our world since forever’.
Tasneem Chopra. Source: Supplied
What hope do migrant women contemplating a career in leadership have navigating systems of privilege?
Indeed, if a white professional conservative woman like Julie Bishop - who has managed 200 lawyers at a firm - is finding the boys club hard to handle, what hope do migrant women contemplating a career in leadership have navigating systems of privilege?
There’s a personalisation – women are not “tough” enough or can’t hack it – but not a focus on the gruelling barriers and brutality these male-dominated structures place on women and how tough they have to be to survive the discrimination.
Further, when the sisterhood of white feminism steps up to champion diversity but refuses to see discrimination as intersectional the momentum of people of colour - and women of colour in particular - is silenced. For these diverse women warriors, standing up to the establishment is a futile exercise mired in sexism, racism and classism.
Women like Anne Aly, Mehreen Faruqi and Lucy Gichuhi are a shining example of voices wielding influence who have had to struggle over and above their white colleagues to gain access to the same platforms, while defending their eligibility.
There isn't a focus on the gruelling barriers and brutality these male-dominated structures place on women and how tough they have to be to survive the discrimination.
Particularly with this government, migrant women remain a minority occupying a space dominated by white men who dictate the narrative and membership of the ‘elite’. Who is advanced, who gets heard, who gets co-opted versus who gets excluded, bullied and shafted, is seemingly also down to race and not just gender.
Fixing the barriers to leadership and opportunities therein requires a shift in thinking and demands the voices of diverse Australians in representing this country.
I’d take a knee for that.
