The Disparate Advocate: A Methodical Madness
If you’ve been here long enough, in this space with me, you might’ve noticed my M.O. when it comes to tackling human rights issues and the reception it receives. One week, I am lauded as an outstanding pillar, as an apt champion for a group of maligned people, and the very next I am an incendiary, polemical, crazy, bombastic gadfly—enemy number one of those same people. Why fight and alienate?
I wish we didn’t have to explain ourselves to others because it is truly a waste of our time and resources, especially since we have so much work to do just to survive, to lead healthy lives. The late great Toni Morrison said it best:
The function, the very serious function of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining, over and over again, your reason for being. Somebody says you have no language and you spend twenty years proving that you do. Somebody says your head isn’t shaped properly so you have scientists working on the fact that it is. Somebody says you have no art, so you dredge that up. Somebody says you have no kingdoms, so you dredge that up. None of this is necessary. There will always be one more thing.
I seldom say why I move the way that I do when it comes to my writing, my online advocacy, because I assume most people know—especially those whom my work has resonated with—but alas.
We are social beings with feelings, equipped with brains pre-wired for company, structure, comfort—formed way before we are conscious of who we are and the world around us, way before we develop a conscience and take into consideration the lives, the identities, the perceptions, and feelings of others. This need and these feelings never leave us, which is pivotal for our individual and collective survival, but they also come at a great cost—the dismissal of needs and feelings of others—which, ironically, can boomerang back to destroy the individual and the collective. Do you see where I’m going? This is exactly what has been happening to/with us since the dawn of humanity.
We must evolve to recognize and act upon this and, luckily, our brains are elastic enough for us to teach, to learn, to mold them into doing better. Fortunately, neuroplasticity goes well into old age, so anyone can grow, can change for the better—for us all. There’s a caveat, though. We must be exposed, keep learning, adapting to new information to keep them “healthy”. It’s why experts tell us to get a new hobby, learn a new language, to pick up a new instrument or new paint brush.
The same applies to meeting new and diverse people. Get to know people across the spectrums of race, gender, age, sexual identity, sexual orientation, ethnicity, disability, class, immigration status, and so on. We tend to stay within the protective perimeters of our “in-groups”, our networks, which is completely and understandably needed, but again, that can and will cause dangerous friction with others and ourselves.
That is exactly what’s happening with marginalized groups today.
We are usually isolated, at each others’ throats, and often haplessly trying to (knowingly and unknowingly) be in the graces of the very thing that oppresses us—at the expense of others and ourselves.
What’s worse, even within our own highly disenfranchised communities, there are those who are facing the brunt of discriminations (and indifferences) due to the unique space their multiple (discriminated) identities occupy within power structures: immigration, healthcare, the justice system, the board of ed, the corporate and nonprofit worlds, the media, arts industries (museum, film, music, e.g.), church, community centers, and our own homes. The brilliant, often maligned and purposely misunderstood, scholar, Kimberlé Crenshaw, coined the very much maligned and purposely distorted foundational term, intersectionality—which is an analytical framework on how to observe, understand, look through to find ways to remedy structural imbalances by reimagining and recasting them—specifically Black women’s unique challenges due to a unique positionality of their identities within racist and sexist power structures. Through her own words:
Intersectionality is a lens through which you can see where power comes and collides, where it interlocks and intersects. It’s not simply that there’s a race problem here, a gender problem here, and a class or LBGTQ problem there. Many times that framework erases what happens to people who are subject to all of these things.
Many of us, armed with this framework, the understanding that policing each others’ tones and adhering to a corrosive respectability politics are extremely harmful and extremely counterproductive, seeing that indifference and neutrality and silence makes us complicit, knowing that at no point in history people took and gave power without giving and getting whiplash, become incendiary, polemical, crazy, bombastic gadflies.
It’s why you see me going off about racism, colorism, sexism, featurism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia, colonialism, imperialism, white validation, gentrification, tokenism, ageism… calling out and calling in structures, systems, individuals and our own persecuted people who (knowingly and unknowingly) uphold and perpetuate, to different degrees, one way or another, these maniacal, sinister, nefarious, unconscionable, destructive, genocidal hierarchies by becoming active conduits of bigotry, of biases, of phobias, of isms just to retain some privilege and some power over those who fall under them, those at the intersections of them, those who are the most materially affected by them.
How can any of us be free when we willingly partake in the oppression of others? What does emancipation mean and look like to you when you are also pulling at the chains of those you deem unworthy of it?
I am conscious of who I am and how I present myself. I am conscious of the people and world around me and how it tries to make me feel about myself. I know what’s at stake and why and how I’m constantly penalized for it. Trust, I know what I’m doing. I move with purpose.
You may perceive me as disparate, disruptive, and maladjusted. Without a doubt in my mind and so there is no room for equivocation: I am.
Who the hell wants to fit in perfectly in this deeply, deeply, deeply sick society?
I suggest we all truly pay heed to the late great Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s speech on this:
A mainstream or indie magazine would usually pay me between $250-$450 for one of my pieces. Since I decided to go solo for the sake of keeping my voice unedited and uncensored, I created this website. Keeping it afloat and these pieces coming is not just time-consuming, but it’s also costly because it angers a lot of those same mainstream papers and magazines (along with their donors) for calling them out—so their favorite retaliation tactic is deplatforming. Especially of unapologetic and unhypocritical Black and Brown voices. Ideally, I’d like to raise between $250-$450 per piece and many of you have actually stepped up to the plate and helped me accomplish that. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you would like to see more of these and support one of the few unbought indie voices, please contribute:
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César Vargas is a distinguished writer, advocate, strategist, and social critic, celebrated for his influential voice in modern Latinx America. His insightful social criticism spans a broad spectrum of topics including geopolitics, race, ethnicity, immigration, and culture. His work resonates across various platforms and communities, engaging editors, writers, journalists, celebrities, activists, artists, executives, politicians, professors, students, and more.
Recognized as one of the '40 Under 40: Latinos in American Politics' by the Huffington Post, his writings have been featured in prestigious publications like the 'Bedford Guide for College Writers' and 'Caribbean Latino Perspectives in the Second Decade of the 21st Century'. His essays and articles have been published and quoted in NBC, Fox News Latino, Voxxi, Okayafrica, Okayplayer, The Huffington Post, Sky News, Salon, The Guardian, Latino Magazine, Latino Rebels, Vibe, The Hill, BET, and his own widely-followed online magazine, UPLIFTT, reaching millions globally.
He is known for creating content that goes viral, thanks to his unique perspective on documenting contemporary issues. His work, which played a pivotal role in bringing Afrolatinidad to the mainstream, is taught in high schools and colleges and shared widely, including in state prisons. His contributions to the arts were acknowledged with two awards from Fusion and the National Hispanic Foundation for the Arts for his short films 'Some Kind of Spanish' and 'Black Latina Unapologetically'.
As a Salinas Scholar at the Aspen Institute's Latinos & Society, he continues to push boundaries and inspire change. His academic background in Film Studies from Queens College, CUNY, underpins his diverse skill set.
Beyond his professional achievements, Vargas is deeply committed to philanthropy. He has raised and distributed funds for various causes, including supporting Haitians in Sosúa, his birthplace. This commitment to social good has piqued the interest of publishing houses, MacArthur Fellows, and major foundation leaders, leading to the ongoing development of his personal memoir.
Currently residing in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife, Delmy, and their son, Omari, Vargas continues to be a dynamic voice and advocate, championing diverse causes and shaping the narrative around Latinx issues in America and beyond.