Warning: The following article contains topics of domestic and sexual abuse.
In recent weeks, an upsurge of performative online activism has immersed Montreal and Toronto’s millennial/gen Z creative and artistic communities. Following George Floyd’s death, we have seen a rise of performative online activism as celebrities and influencers scrambled to publicly showcase their support for the Black Lives Matter movement. The performative activism I am addressing, however, is tied to Instagram call-out posts and subsequent abuse allegations against members of the aforementioned scenes within Montreal and Toronto.
The same individuals who publicly condemn abusive behaviour online are the ones who have been complicit to- or perpetrators of- abuse; this is my personal experience. Those who have inflicted abuse onto me, instead of taking accountability for their actions, choose to re-share and post about these specific injustices, without partaking in the necessary introspection that challenges their own and direct complicity. This type of activism undermines the progress we are making as a community and in turn continues to marginalize the voices of abuse victims and survivors.
The personal is political - by sharing and disseminating stories of abuse, we are able to raise consciousness regarding issues such as these, and thereby take steps towards fixing the problem. We must also probe as to why narratives of abuse are so often undervalued and gaslit, while solidarity statements posted online by men are praised and validated. The questioning and critiquing of age-old cultural structures is imperative to understand the complexities of performative activism and the ways in which we, as a society, accept and listen to call-outs and stories of abuse. It is through the very process of sharing stories and raising the voices of survivors that we can counter forms of performative activism.
So, what exactly do I mean by performative online activism? I would define it as a form of activism that is designed to increase ones’ social capital rather than act in true solidarity or devotion to a cause. A person who is taking part in performative online activism would rather claim they are not abusive or racist on their social media than seek to hold themselves and/or their social circles accountable both on and offline. A person participating in performative online activism wishes to promote an idealized ‘woke’ version of themselves to the world without seeking to challenge or call-out the oppressive structures within their own communities.
The dangerous impacts of performance-based posts can be attributed to a lack of material change, despite fervent online activism. In other words, posts online, while encouraging dialogue and shedding awareness, have the possibility of not enacting real change in people’s thinking and actions. The consequences of performative activism are obvious once the trend has expired and the “activists” have moved on without implementing change in their lives. On a macro scale, performative activism creates challenges when calling for an end to social and political injustices: performative activism does not stop the problem, it just publicizes it.
As a victim and survivor of abuse, seeing movements’ calls to action being co-opted by instances of performative activism is incredibly harmful and frustrating. Although I acknowledge there has been a lot of growth in my communities due to online activism, there is still a lot of work to be done. As an outspoken individual regarding the abuse I have experienced in both Toronto and Montreal, I can speak to the feeling of frustration from being gaslit and diminished by many leftist online mutuals.
It is always the most “woke” men who have allegations against them, and when they are called out, fail to recognize their place within rape culture. Online, we claim to support survivors and the most marginal members of our community. Offline, we are complicit in actions that further oppress them. My question is: who are we truly protecting? Are we protecting those at risk of societal harm or simply protecting a performative “woke” image, absolving ourselves of the work we must do in our personal lives to be better allies? In my experience, I have felt the latter to be true. As a victim and survivor who is trying to heal, witnessing the people who have harmed me act as innocent bystanders in these conversations immensely attributes to feelings of hopelessness and stark misrepresentation.
I experienced abuse when I was ages 18-20 and again, from 21-23. To cope, I used social media as a platform to express my pain and to process my trauma. Yet, I was also silenced and gaslit. Narratives of me being a lying, “crazy girl” were created by some of the most outspoken leftist individuals that I followed online. Recently, on Instagram it has been trendy to post graphics stating: “If I follow your abuser DM me and I will unfollow them.” Some individuals who have shared these graphics are the very people who are aware of their friends’ abusive tendencies, and actively continue to surround themselves with these harmful people. I know this because some of these abusive individuals abused me. These harmful people are thereby never held accountable for their actions and still get to enjoy their social scenes and social capital. The abusive individual is able to maintain life-as-he-knows-it, while I, as the female victim, am shunned for speaking out. Not only are this mans’ friends complicit by associating with him, but they are posting graphics that relay to their followers that they do in fact care about abuse survivors/victims; in reality, they clearly do not. When even the most radical and leftist individuals prescribe to this form of performative activism, it is difficult to believe that anyone stands in true solidarity with me or other survivors. The way these individuals present themselves online is thus not consistent with their ideological actions and beliefs in the real world.
In line with my own experiences, a close friend has shared similar stories regarding an individual she previously dated from the Montreal scene. The individual she discussed is known as one of the most active and vocal male allies at her university. A few months ago, he was accused with rape allegations. Rather than taking any accountability for his actions, this individual messaged his exes and friend groups claiming that the woman coming forward with these allegations was a “crazy, jealous ex” and trying to undermine his image. In the past weeks, he, of course, was one of the vocal individuals sharing abuse solidarity statements on his page. His friends were also behind him, supporting him throughout this entire process, and continuing to engage with him, even after the allegations. The story of a popular male individual utilizing his social capital to uphold a ‘good’ image of himself as a ‘male feminist’ while simultaneously having rape allegations against him — and continuing to have a social circle that supports him -- is the problem of performative activism in Montreal.
The patriarchy - the system to which our society ultimately prescribes to - continuously undermines the experience of women and rewards men for doing the bare minimum in situations of injustice. Unfortunately, due to the patriarchal structures that define our society, we are taught to value the perspectives of men and uphold their opinions to the highest degree. Scholar Mary Becker explains the meaning of living within a patrichical world: “[s]ocial structures and the individuals within them create and reproduce inequalities… Individuals today are encouraged to believe that (only) white men are fully human; and because (only) white men are fully human, society is organized around their needs, reality is seen from their perspectives, their attributes are seen as most valuable and productive, and they (naturally) dominate politics and cultures.” The patriarchy instills the notion that certain [male] opinions are inherently more valuable, thus it is hard to challenge them, especially if the content they are publicizing is seemingly in support of victims/survivors. The patriarchy favours male voices and representation, therefore it allows men to speak out on issues, allowing them to scathe-by without recognizing their own complicity and privilege regarding issues of gender-based violence. This system tells society that we should applaud men for their contributions of ‘solidarity’ regardless of their treatment towards abuse survivors.
We must constantly be engaging in difficult and necessary conversations to confront our own complicity and the complicity of others. We cannot be abuse or rape apologists any longer. We need to listen to the demands of those hurting at the hands of oppressive systems and structures. We need to constantly be learning and un-learning our various axes of privilege. We must go beyond this promoted false image of ourselves as ‘good’ allies when online. If we are not checking-in and reflecting on our own friends and social circles, then we ourselves are complicit in these current injustices.
My question remains: how can we truly engage in practices of solidarity for those that are hurting? How can we productively challenge this and our own complicity to make room for actual change? I believe it begins with reframing how we think about accountability; normalizing the process of taking accountability and pushing for greater forms of collective community care through the very act of call-outs. Collective community care is listening to victims/survivors and subsequently re-evaluating the significance of established/manufactured truths in our social circles. It is also acknowledging that even if we have been harmed, we too, could have harmed others. Moreover, it is increasingly important to remember that no one has the right to gate-keep the experiences of abuse victims or minimize the reality of those who have been abused. Simply said: we cannot pick and choose when to believe survivors or victims of injustices.
Call-outs, such as this article, act as a catalyst for broadening the dialogue on various social and political issues and shine a light on otherwise hidden or subordinate topics. Thus, in a world where it is increasingly trendy to be “woke online,” it remains crucial that we constantly challenge ourselves with higher standards of justice and real forms of accountability in all areas of our lives. We need to call-out, and look inward.
Alicia Lapeña-Barry is a recent graduate of McGill University with a major in cultural studies and a double minor in gender studies and communications. Her research interests lie in exploring issues of sexuality, power, and marginalized populations in popular culture and media.
Feature image: Joey Lim @jooeiy
