The first time I learned about intersectionality, it stuck with me and I absorbed this concept like a sponge. I adored that the belief I always had that the layers of each of us made us special, had a name and a practice to it. I began bringing intersectionality into my every day life and dissecting more about what the scholarly definition entailed. While I grasped the concept of celebrating our differences, I fell short in understanding that intersectionality also has a negative side. The side of intersectionality that shows us how we can be privileged and oppressed simultaneously, and yet be completely overlooked in the eyes of society. For example, I am a cisgender woman, so I have sexual identity privilege. I am of mixed nationalities, but my parents always told me to mark down “white” on my academic tests, even though fifty percent of me is Lebanese. “The dominant group assigns roles to the subordinate that reflect the latter’s devalued status, reserving the most highly valued roles in the society for themselves (Tatum, 12).” I never quite understood why, but now I totally get it. It’s easier to mark down “white” as that is racism at its core, those who are white, or appear to be, get this white privilege handed to them and my parents wanted that for me, instead of embracing my Lebanese heritage more proudly. My parents aren’t incredibly progressive, so this mindset is not surprising, though I am working on chipping away at my family’s ignorance when I have the opportunity. I am also gay, which then turns that privilege around to now oppress me to homophobic degradation. Knowing each of us is made up of individual, unique layers has it’s pros, but the cons can definitely outweigh them if society deems them “wrong” enough.

Intersectionality in itself can also be problematic, due to it being filled with predominantly white and westernized feminists thinking they are helping marginalized minorities, but in fact they are part of the issues at hand. Black feminists are not getting nearly enough recognition in intersectionality, and at times are completely overlooked. However, with the help and advocacy of a handful of amazing black feminists, this is becoming subject to change. “Black women are involved with the environmental justice movement because environmental racism often directly affects their homes, families, and communities (Cain)”. Black feminists not only get involved because of the need to be included, but to fight to be included to show that their oppression is affecting the livelihood of their communities.

Because of intersectionality being defined as so many different things, Kings defines it as a “web of entanglement”. “A spider’s web preserves the necessary complexity of [End Page 65] intersectionality and the potential ‘stickiness’ of cultural categories, which can often leave people stuck between two or more intersecting or conflicting social categories (Kings)”. I like this definition better than the junction or traffic jam definition because it defines intersectionality in less of a chaotic neutral and puts it in the image of something that is beautifully constructed, but can be dangerous when entrapped. The webbing is sticky, representing, at least to me, the feeling of being stuck inside oppression while it appears that freedom is only a few inches away. That we struggle against the confines of the oppressing web, but to no avail. The beauty of the web and how it is constructed also goes back to my argument about layers, and each layer of our own person being unique. However, one of those layers or more can also lead us to an oppression or marginalization, no matter how beautiful our differences are.