Published using Google Docs
Representation is not Liberation and neither is the game of Identity Politics
Updated automatically every 5 minutes

Representation is not Liberation and Neither is the Game of Identity Politics

By Johnathan Duncan

As a candidate running for city council, there is no shortage of people who will offer their advice. One of the common pieces of advice I’ve received is to play up my identity as a black man, a brown man, a person of color; but I have so much more to say, and none of what I have to say will fit into any box. Representation is not liberation and identity politics should never be shorthand for the lived actions and realized vision of those who hope to represent our City. I am the product of immigrants and a descendant of slaves; I am a product of erasure and white supremacy; and I am the walking, living, breathing voice of my community informed by their genius, empowered with their voices, and emboldened with their vision for the Kansas City we could have if we had people who represented their vision rather than touted their personal physical identity for clout. My politics are not based on my personal identity; my identity is based on my politics of organizing and uplifting the most underserved in my community.

Growing up in Newton, Kansas, my white father once told me “You are not Black, you are not Mexican, you are American.” What he meant was I was a strong, heterosexual, white passing male like him and nothing more. This was my first experience with assimilation or, more aptly, erasure. Erasure, to me, is the removal or minimization of parts of one’s self that do not fit into the white supremacist box. People have asked me “what are you?!?” and then challenged my response because being “othered” also meant I wasn’t enough. Not Black enough, not Mexican enough, not white enough.

Get told you’re not enough for long enough, you start to believe it. On the other hand, my mother always reminded me that not only was I enough - I had an abundance of identity. My mother is Black and Mexican who was also told she wasn’t enough of either, and she challenged me to be more. She helped me not just know but live who I am through my actions - that my identity would always be what I chose to do and who I choose to fight for rather than any moniker someone thought I deserved to wear.

Identity politics is a tool to further alienate us from the possibility of returning to a true sense of community and belonging. What does it mean to know one’s self and recognize that one’s identity is deeply related to those they share kinship with? In 2023 it is not enough to share the same skin color and call it culture. We must recognize what it truly means to be an individual as part of a collective and to realize your role as part of that community and culture. To put it simply, of course we want to see black and brown representation, but if we think skin color is the end all be all, we are severely missing the point.  Our power lies within the collective of not just those who look like you, but of those who share the same vision; specifically those who share the vision of collective power.

From my friend and neighbor Ammarrah: “I am black before I am anything because I am perceived as black, but there’s no grace for blackness. Identity politics have never helped me because there is no box for me - I must name that I am an outsider in every space I enter. I am first generation American, Pakistani, Jamaican, and Queer; I was raised Muslim and poor, but in predominantly affluent white spaces. None of those identities held me. None of them provided me the space to live. The identity that has held me the most is the one of my found community.  A community that sees me as my full person is one that is able to recognize me and value me not based on my ability to perform but recognizes my inherent value.  A community where I don’t have to fight for survival and my needs are met. One that doesn’t invalidate me. One that values my rest and provides me the time, the space, and the resources to heal. I am betting on a dream of a community where I am recognized as a full person with inherent value because it matters to me to make it better for those who come after me. The alternative is continued generations of abuse and trauma and I deserve better– WE deserve better. My concept of community will continue to evolve as I do. I want more and I deserve more and so does my community both those who I’ve found and those who I’ve yet to find.”

We need leaders who do not base their politics on their personal identity, but base their identity on the politics of organizing and uplifting the most underserved in their community. I have felt pressured to enter the world of identity politics, especially when talking about diversity. But, I don’t play the game of identity politics because it glosses over the true principles and values of who I am. I talk about being a veteran as I’m campaigning because the act of becoming a veteran was a traumatic birth into the organizer I am today.

Service, community, solidarity, and identity are more than just buzzwords: they are lived actions. When I experienced the scarcity that existed within the VA healthcare system, a lack of access to resources to help me in my time of need, it nearly led to me killing myself. My community let me know I was worth more than what I was handed. They gave me context and the help needed to know I deserved to live, and live well. After I got back on my own feet, thanks to them, I wanted to make sure no one else was forced to experience that scarcity. No matter who they are, or what they do. My vision for Kansas City is grounded in my lived identity - I envision a Kansas City where my community has beautiful housing conditions they can afford, access to robust public health and mental health services, abundant transit, the ability to experience joy and leaders who uplift their lived experiences and build policy solutions with them not for them.

I am the proud result of Scot-Irish cattle drivers, Mexican boxcar riders, and Black enslaved civil war veterans who fought for their freedom. I am the product of erasure and the beautiful shards of surviving hope that white supremacy couldn’t kill. I am a veteran. I am a community organizer. Most of all, I am more than enough - and I will fight to ensure that we uplift the complexities of each other’s identities and the inherent value of one’s person and their lived actions rather than their ability to produce or fit neatly into a predetermined package. Now, let’s get to work to build a Kansas City where every resident regardless of their identity can thrive.