The burgeoning rift within the Black community between critics and loyalists of President Barack Obama is undergirded by a little-known sociological phenomenon: fictive kinship.
The irony is palpable. A community which actively campaigns for diversity has virtually no tolerance for differences of opinion? The remarkableness of this behavior is not in its existence, but in its root.
Scholars describe fictive kinship as a powerful, shared group identity that extends beyond familial boundaries and typically exists in oppressed communities. One of its major functions is to protect and define the minority group's identity by acting as a boundaries around the group—it is "us versus them." One negative outflow of this protection is that it can lead to the rejection of internal dissent within a community—usually in the name of its self-preservation.
An example of fictive kinship in action: when then-Sen. Obama initially entered the presidential race, fictive kinship reared its head immediately: some African-Americans expressed skepticism that Mr. Obama "wasn't Black enough." This concern was less about speech patterns and education and more about whether Mr. Obama understood himself in terms congruent with African-American identity. The initial question was: is he one of us?
But once Mr. Obama was understood and accepted as “belonging” to the community, fictive kinship took on a secondary role, banishing those in the community who criticized him into enemy territory: either you’re with us (including Mr. Obama) or you’re against us. No in-between.
Tavis Smiley, a prominent journalist and activist, criticized Mr. Obama on a popular radio morning show and was deluged with negative emails from listeners. He was accused of everything from jealousy to the desire to torpedo Mr. Obama's campaign, despite Smiley's unwavering commitment to the betterment of the African-American community. Smiley left the radio show to pursue other projects, but the power of fictive kinship remained in force—well over 90% of African-Americans voted for Mr. Obama in the presidential election. Not much was heard from those who disagreed with him.
There is no reason to limit fictive kinship to cultural groups; it has a way of surfacing in relation to gender (and other aspects of identity), too.
When Governor Sarah Palin was announced as Sen. John McCain's vice-presidential running mate, she was immediately attacked by feminists for a variety of reasons. Notably, Dr. Wendy Doniger, a professor at the University of Chicago's Divinity School, launched a scathing assault that implied that Palin was not even a woman. The actress Sigourney Weaver referred to Palin as "Bush in a skirt." It would seem that Dr. Doniger and Weaver view Palin's pro-life views as moving her outside of “womanhood” and they are not alone.
Feminist voices continue to refuse to address the sexism and misogyny which has surfaced with Palin's appointment: a pornographic video featuring a Palin look-a-like (no such video for Biden, mind you), t-shirts crudely likening Palin to female anatomy, or the Pakistani president's hug threat—one which Pakistani feminists lost no time in denouncing. For many prominent feminists (Camille Paglia excepted), Palin is not part of this so-called sisterhood and is therefore not entitled to any defense whatsoever. No matter what is done to her.
That marginalized groups would seek to protect themselves and retain certain aspects of their identities is perfectly understandable. When progress has been slowly achieved and battles hard-fought and hard-won, it is essential that whatever success has been attained not be eroded. The reality is that the notion of identity in America is changing, and it is only natural for marginalized groups to cope with these cultural shifts by reinforcing their community boundaries.
But these boundaries cannot promote or require uniformity. Diversity must be allowed to flourish within these marginalized communities.
Maybe there is some good news to be found in all of this. When those who seek inclusion—whether cultural, gender or otherwise—reject diversity in their own midst, for whatever reason, it offers perhaps the most compelling evidence that human beings are really not so different, after all.
Note: I felt it necessary to add a brief statement after this article because it deals with matters of politics, a subject on which I do not generally opine in this column. As such, it should be noted that my political affiliation is independent and that my use of political figures in this article is designed to illustrate the challenges of diversity within diversity and not to specifically endorse or reject their philosophies.
© 2009 Jessica Faye Carter. All Rights Reserved.