Read moreLast week, the Minister responsible for the Status of Women, Martine Biron, refused to support a motion proposed by Québec solidaire in the run-up to International Women's Day, which is held on March 8 each year. The motion notably encouraged the National Assembly to "conduct gender-based analysis from an intersectional perspective in order to defend the rights of all women in Quebec." It is the notion of intersectionality, here, which would have cooled the CAQ. The concept may seem abstract, but as March 8 approaches, it would be important to understand what is at stake. If the government decides that its feminism is not “intersectional,” the implications are great. So let's explain. The word “intersectionality” was popularized in the late 1980s by American law professor Kimberlé Crenshaw — but it refers to a way of understanding and fighting for women’s rights that has existed in many forms, on many continents. In her research, Kimberlé Crenshaw focused on a lawsuit against General Motors (GM) in which five black women accused the company of discriminating against them. But the courts found at the time that GM could not be guilty of racism because it hired black men on its factory floor, nor of sexism because it employed white women in secretarial positions. A company could therefore systematically refuse to hire black women without there being any words, or therefore any legal remedy, for this type of discrimination. The researcher therefore proposed the term “intersectionality” as an analytical tool. I insist here on the word “tool”. Intersectionality is a tool that allows us to better name and understand social inequalities that are difficult to envisage if we take the “-isms” in isolation, and therefore to better act on them. Example. We know that women with disabilities are at greater risk of experiencing sexual violence, and that this takes different forms. For example, they may be vulnerable to abuse from people on whom they depend for care. The Quebec government must therefore understand the “intersection” between ableism and sexism if it wants to offer services to prevent and combat sexual violence that truly meet the needs of all women, including women with disabilities. Without an intersectional approach, government programs are like “one-size-fits-all” clothes in stores: supposedly designed to fit everyone, they fit no one well. If not, perhaps, to the “average woman” that its creators imagine all by themselves in their heads. Another example. It is known that black women are more likely to develop certain types of health problems than other women. We think of uterine fibroids, in particular. We also know, thanks to American studies, that certain cancers, such as breast cancer, are on average more aggressive in black women. A public health system that “does not see color” cannot adequately raise awareness among the entire population based on their risk levels, and healthcare personnel cannot recommend screening tests accordingly. By refusing to collect data that allows for “gender-based analysis from an intersectional perspective,” to quote the text of last week’s motion, we can very concretely affect the quality of life and longevity of many citizens. There are dozens of examples like this that could be given. But the basic principle remains the same: when we pretend that all women are the same, we cannot treat them fairly. Often, resistance to intersectionality is expressed through fear. Why talk, between women, about our differences? one asks. Wouldn't that be trying to divide us? Is intersectional feminism, by definition, not very “unifying”? Why not instead talk about the big fights that affect all women, and concentrate our efforts there? These are good questions—and they do start from a particular premise. These types of questions imply that women's diversity is... a weakness. Something we'd better ignore in order to form a stronger movement. Whereas, in reality, movements that pretend that all women are alike necessarily lead to exclusion. The further women move away from the "average" condition that we imagine to be the "ordinary" reality of all, the less their rights are likely to be defended by this type of feminist movement. Another example. Many domestic workers come to Canada on temporary work permits, often tied to their employer. They are therefore particularly vulnerable to abuse of power by their bosses. But a feminist movement that prioritizes "unifying" struggles will never organize a mobilization for the rights of foreign domestic workers. After decades of so-called "unifying" feminism, women's rights have advanced in a host of areas. For many, the legal battles are largely behind them - all that remains is to change morals. While for others – such as foreign workers, but also sex workers, trans women, etc. —, important legal reforms still need to be implemented, and they are happening much later. A feminism that is not intersectional, therefore, is a feminism where certain women "queue up", eternally, without the hour of their rights ever coming. If this feminism is the CAQ feminism, it would be better to say so clearly, ideally before March 8th.

Anthropologist, Emilie Nicolas is a columnist at Le Devoir and Libération. She hosts the podcast Détours pour Canadaland. » Le Devoir encourages participation in a respectful debate according to its moderation rules. In order to avoid excesses, comments have been closed following this publication.  

"This post is a summary of information from our information monitoring"