“Any statement will invoke the structures of power allied with the social location of the speaker, aside from the speaker’s intentions or attempts to avoid such invocations.”
Given this quote, what happens if someone verbally attacks the very structures of power that are allied with his/her social location? Suppose a government was widely criticized because people felt that it favored the rich and ignored the poor. I’d say that government was “allied” with the upper class, no? Now suppose that a man named Bob was fortunate enough to be among the wealthy in the given country. Given his social status, Bob was personally benefiting from the government’s policies. But Bob was not a greedy person, and he would much prefer to see the government help those who really need it rather than make the wealthy even wealthier. So, he spoke out against the very government that was helping him. Interesting scenario, and how does this relate to the original quote? Would his criticism be less credible because he comes from a social class that is “allied” with the government?
“[Joyce Trebilcot] agrees that an absolute prohibition of speaking for would undermine political effectiveness, and therefore says that she will avoid speaking for others only within her lesbian feminist community.”
I found this puzzling – maybe too much was lost when Alcoff reduced a complex argument to a single sentence. Earlier in the paper, when discussing the proposal that someone “should only speak for groups of which [s/he is] a member,” Alcoff ponders how to “draw the categories” and notes that they are always “arbitrary.” I completely agree with Alcoff’s idea and feel that, with a little generalization, it is highly relevant to the quote about Trebilcot. Why does Trebilcot feel that she cannot speak for her fellow lesbian feminists but can and should speak for others? I’m not attacking her decision, I just feel that the line she draws is arbitrary, and I’m curious why she chose to draw it at the limits of the lesbian feminist circle.
I’m also confused by Alcoff’s criticism of the “Retreat” response. By her definition, “This response is simply to retreat from all practices of speaking for; it asserts that one can only know one’s own narrow individual experience and one’s ‘own truth’ and thus that one can never make claims beyond this.” One of the points she makes against it is that anything you say will inevitably have some impact on others, whether you want it to or not. She writes, “When I ‘speak for myself’ I am participating in the creation and reproduction of discourses through which my own and other selves are constituted.” I certainly agree with her, but I don’t see how this is a point against the retreat response. The justification for the retreat response concerns what you, personally, know and understand before speaking; Alcoff’s supposed criticism of the retreat response concerns what other people know and understand after you speak. Isn’t her argument irrelevant?
Alcoff writes, “I agree, then, that we should strive to create wherever possible the conditions for dialogue and the practice of speaking with and to rather than speaking for others.” This is a good point, but it seems to me that there is still a fuzzy line between speaking with/to others and speaking for them. Alcoff acknowledges that one question each of us must grapple with is, “If I don’t speak for those less privileged than myself, am I abandoning my political responsibility to speak out against oppression, a responsibility incurred by the very fact of my privilege?” Suppose that in an effort not to abandon this responsibility, while not causing harm by speaking for others wrongly, you meet with people from an oppressed group to find out exactly what they have to say for themselves. Now what? To fulfill this “responsibility to speak out against oppression,” you have to spread your newfound knowledge. But how do you do that? You could tape-record your interviews with the oppressed people and play their exact words for people, but realistically, recordings can’t be your sole medium. If you’re speaking in front of a group, you can’t just hit play, let the tape run for half an hour, and then step down from the podium without uttering a word; if you’re writing an article, it needs more than just a raw transcript. Ultimately, you are going to have to speak for others. You might speak for them in a way that reflects their own thoughts extremely accurately, but won’t that still be speaking for them?
The article calls into question the first definition of service: “To be of service to; to serve; to provide with a service.” Many people have excellent intentions when speaking for others, particularly when speaking for underrepresented or disadvantaged groups. They feel they are generously supplying a voice for a group that needs one. Alcoff counters that in some cases, the speakers are causing more harm than good – definitely not providing a service. The example that particularly stands out for me is Native Canadian women’s request that Anne Cameron not speak for them. Cameron most likely felt she was servicing the Native Candians, but she wasn’t at all.
Alcoff’s words of caution against speaking for others are a message I should carry with me. I have a strong interest in volunteer work and social justice. Inevitably, this will lead to situations over the years where I participate in “the practice of privileged persons speaking for or on behalf of less privileged persons,” which “has actually resulted (in many cases) in increasing or reenforcing the oppression of the group spoken for.” Reading Alcoff’s article addresses the possibility that I could cause damage when I intend to do good. It serves as a warning to consider the ramifications of what I say when discussing social issues or volunteer experiences.