this bridge we call home: radical visions for transformation 1st Edition

I honestly did not enjoy this book as much as I thought I would. I certainly did not appreciate it as much as I did the last one. The editors mentioned briefly at the beginning of the book that women of color are often accused of being "unable" to formulate academic or political theory and that the selections submitted to this book clearly disprove that statement. Personally, I've known a variety of women of color who can create and quote academic theory in ways that blow my mind, so I wasn't super shocked to learn about this. However, although women of color can obviously 'be academic' to whatever degree we choose, that does not necessarily mean we really should be. This book came off like trying to prove to white folks that yes, we might have been angry and upset in the past at our exclusion from white women's version of feminism and the fact folks of color are still getting murdered at the hands of white folks with little punishment [Oscar Grant comes to mind], but some of us have seen the light and are all reformed now!! Isn't it great to pretend to be like white people? Doesn't that always succeed in making us happy? That seems to be the suggestion subtly made by the book. As long as we claim some inner knowledge of oppression, it doesn't matter that we're taking in six figures a year to basically pretend racism doesn't exist and play tokens to primarily white administrations on college campuses. It doesn't matter that many if not most students of color who manage to get to universities at all suffer from depression, anxiety, and a variety of other emotional disorders that tend to afflict people who feel with good reason constantly afraid for their lives on the one hand and their sanity on the other. It doesn't matter that we've taken 'belonging' according to the white folks' definition of it, or that we've forgotten the traditions we've come from in the name of 'pursuing the best possible futures' for our people...doesn't matter that those 'best possible futures' inevitably seem to equate 'making as much money as possible.' Doesn't seem to matter that the reason many women of color activists have resisted academic theory has to do with personal choice rather than inability and that this is something white folks will never believe anyway, and that thus can never be proven to them. It doesn't matter that the only way for us to move forward is to do so intact, with our roots well-maintained and dug deep in the soil of our cultures. We cannot always be the bridge between our own cultures and white folks, we just wind up getting trod upon. Academia is not a bridge, and anyone who has spent any amount of time present on a college campus really ought to know that. Academia It would be one thing if this were a book written by one person or even a group of people deliberately trying to convince white folks not to see us as a threat. It's not. It's a book aimed at people of color, trying to convince US to see ourselves as unthreatening and able to slip right into the white world with a minimum of problems--none that are really unsolvable or that really much matter, anyway. It's a book about trying to make us forget that we do in fact threaten the stability of white society by existing, because to be a WASP by freakin' definition means to believe that all other cultures are inferior to your own and must be slowly eradicated for yours to keep on existing. White women do not really believe that we cannot create academic theory, or that what we do create is inferior to their own. They do wish for us to believe this. Internalized oppression...and wow, it would be nice to read a book that talked about that for a change. This book is not that book. Why should I format the way in which I express myself or my ideas to reflect a cultural tradition not my own? I do not come from a WASP culture, why should I sound like them? Why can't they move across the bridge and work towards understanding my oral traditions of storytelling and poetry as more than just an 'oh look how cute' phenomenon? Why can't I communicate white people without surrendering my self-esteem and compromising my ability to love myself? Most of all, why doesn't a book with so much promise attempt to at least discuss these questions? Why, instead, does it only speak to the academic success 'This Bridge called my back' has had as the part if most wants to emulate...instead of recognizing that the REASON this previous book was so successful is BECAUSE it was not a whitewashed version of women of color's words, but rather, the original, unadulterated thing?

Overall this is a superb collection of contemporary writings and artwork by radical feminists on the intersectionality of various forms of social oppression. However, I do have a few minor criticisms. Unlike its revolutionary mother text, "This Bridge Called My Back", which was written entirely by women of color, "This Bridge We Call Home" includes writings by white women and by men. While I think that it's imperative that white women engage in anti-racist activism and men of all colors engage in feminist struggle, I do not think that this book was the appropriate place for them to interject their opinions. Furthermore, I was a little dismayed that most of the activism discussed in this book centered on campus activism rather than on street activism. While I do not wish to discount the university as an important terrain for political struggle, it would have been nice to read writings by feminists of color active in clinic defense, ACT UP, anti-corporate globalization protests, Queeruption, etc. Given the impact of AIDS on communities of color, especially among African-American women, I was a little surprised that the book did not include any voices by hiv+ women. Nor did it include any writings by incarcerated women, an unfortunate oversight given the devastating role that the prison industrial complex plays in the lives of many low-income women of color. One essay I really did not like was that by transman Max Wolf Valero. First of all, he bad mouths Leslie Fienberg because of hir "Marxist harangues". Unfortunately, this antipathy toward anticapitalist politics is reflected in his rigid definition of transgenderism. For example, he dismisses transmen who do not undergo sex reassignment surgey as not authentically trans. To me, this reeks of classism. Living in a small, working-class town, I know several transgender women who have not had the operation simply because they cannot afford to do so. However, they live 24/7 as women. Should they be considered just men in drag because they do not have the economic means to reconfigure their bodies medically? I think not. To do so would be both arrogant and absurd. These criticisms aside, this book is a worthwhile read for present day activists interested in multicultural feminist concerns. I would however recommend reading "This Bridge Called My Back" first. Sadly, it is out of print, but you may be able to find a used copy online. Hopefully, some progressive publishing company will someday reprint this life-changing book!

Brilliant book that I refer back to over and over again.

The follow-up to This Bridge Called My Back & Anzaldúa's final book before she passed on from this life. Her essay "now let us shift . . . inner work, public acts . . . the path of conocimiento" is under-rated and transformative. I get something new from it every time. It is inclusive of diverse voices not included in This Bridge because it includes essays from Muslim people and trans* people. It's basically amazing.

In terms of delivery and stuff, it was awesome. The book itself is okay. Not really sure how I feel Anzaldua. Don't really like the things that go alng with mestizaje and stuff.

As a Women Studies minor, I think this is a great book. I gave it a 5 star rating because I know it will help me a lot with my studies!

Thanks for helping me finish school!

Great read!