My Poor Colonized Mind

I wanna know what people mean by decolonize, y’all — for realz!

I’m about to go in for several posts on this, so you may wanna have a seat. Over the past few weeks I have been lovingly called in by colleagues about ways I continue to think with my “colonizer” brain. I’ve used terms I’d no idea could be construed as derogatory, and I question how they are even seen that way, as I didn’t know the connection those words had to the persecution of certain groups. A term like gyp, for example, which turns out to be a shortening of Gypsy which is a derogatory name given to the nomadic Roma people.

Don’t get it twisted, I wanna be clued in on ways I might be maintaining oppressive thinking about targeted groups. The problem is that in order to have a full understanding of many of these terms, a person either has to have direct contact with a person from that group (although it hasn’t worked for me with the word “crazy”), or has to have the privilege of an education that reviews the broad history of campaigns waged against ethnic groups by a mostly Western ruling class. The oppression via colonization that is directed at one ethnic or cultural group, often prevents the opportunity for shared knowledge and understanding with other folks on the margins. In other words, oppression limits opportunities for groups in struggle to connect and communicate with each other (intergroup) about the issues they face.

Hence representatives of that ruling class (usually the children of wealthy families) get to be the keepers of progressive knowledge in a world of exploitation and inequity they have had a hand in maintaining. (Are you feeling a bit charged by that? I am!) It is often the very presence of these “woke” folks, that mark the entry of colonizing forces into communities that regularly find themselves displaced, criminalized, killed, and otherwise targeted by the violence of gentrification, foreclosures, and bully-policing. Yes, kids, the supposition that knowing shit (being woke), means you are making a stand against that shit (an ally), is bullshit (no clarification to be given). The people who feel the material negative effects of colonization don’t even get to coin the language that is used to talk about the violence they experience. It reminds me of how the colloquialism “wil’in’ (pronounced WHY-lin) out” became “wilding” when a single NY detective decided it was so (research “Central Park Five” or watch the miniseries When They See Us). Same shit on the flip side.

I can get real resentful real fast, when a well off, White-passing, young recent graduate, shuts down a conversation to tell me how I got something wrong. It’s quite demeaning. I don’t even know what that means, got it wrong. Those are the words that have been levied at me occasionally when I have taken up a topic that was new to me. People are so busy giving corrections on my semantics (or, heaven forbid, my tone) while the spirit of my question is ignored. The topic shifts from the point at hand, to questioning my qualification to speak (or be accepted...or live). That’s the problem with the rules about “wokeness” as I experience them spread. I am often being Man-splained about my very own experience. I’m being told the term for it and then pointed in the direction of more information. People might try, instead of assuming they have it so right they are in the position to correct others on political correctness, sharing the context in which they were given information and, perhaps, share it as the changeable and interpretable perspective it is. Your facts aren’t always facts, and just because you said it, doesn’t make it true or give you authority on the matter.

I’m glad there are people out there trying to be allies. Clue: when you find yourself educating the people with whom you are aligning yourself, about the very conditions they are experiencing and against which they are struggling, stop, look, and listen. You may very well be engaging in further marginalizing people as you step in as the authority on other people’s issues. Often this wisdom is shared without any room for discussion, exploration of nuance or clarification. I appreciate the effort, but the impact sucks.

Pink Flowers

Pink Flowers is a Black trans artist, peacemaker, educator, and pleasure activist whose work lives at the intersection of embodiment, governance, and cultural transformation. Trained in Theater of the Oppressed, Art of Hosting, and Navajo-informed Peacemaking practices, Pink designs spaces where conflict can be addressed, power can be examined, and joy can be reclaimed.

Her artistic and pedagogical practice draws from African trickster cosmology, Brazilian Joker traditions, shamanic ritual, and cooperative economics. She is the founder of the award-winning Falconworks Theater Company (2005–2021), which used popular theater to build civic capacity and participatory leadership in historically marginalized communities.

Pink served for over five years as a trained Peacemaker in the Red Hook Community Justice Center in Brooklyn, facilitating restorative processes within the New York City court system. From 2015–2018, she worked in cooperative business development with the Center for Family Life, supporting worker-owned enterprises in immigrant communities.

She currently serves as Director of Education and Training for the Inter-Cooperative Council in Ann Arbor, where she leads leadership development and conflict engagement initiatives. Her work has been presented nationally and internationally, including at the Stretch Festival in Berlin and the Pedagogy and Theatre of the Oppressed Conference.

Across ritual, performance, mediation, and institutional design, Pink’s work asks a central question:

What becomes possible when we refuse shame and choose conscious power instead?

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