In the book “Cultural Politics of Emotion” Sara Ahmed argues that hate “involves a series of displacements” (p. 44). She describes hate as an intense emotion that operates against something or someone. And sometimes those somethings or someones are stand-ins for larger groups or concepts.
The point is, obviously, everybody doesn’t actually hate me. I have friends and people who love me. I’ve even come across people who have described themselves as “fans” of me or my work (cue discomfort). But that is not a universal sentiment. Many people are neutral about me and yet even more have no idea who I am.
What does it mean to say that everyone hates me?
The first questions must be: who is the “everyone” in this scenario?
Clearly, it’s not everyone. However, it does seem to reference a group of people as having agreed that I’m terrible and worthy of being hated. I would connect this back to Ahmed’s point about displacements.
To be clear, several people told me this using the exact same language. It happened early in my council term, 2019-2021-ish. When this comment arose, it was largely before Canada had such a reckoning on racism as happened stemming from events that came into the public consciousness in 2020 and 2021. Me being hated was in large part connected to my using my platform to discuss race and to my bringing a motion to remove a statue. Talk about displacement. Even further than talking about race, I advocated for Indigenous rights and truths to be shared more broadly in our community. I am also openly feminist and that definitely makes people uncomfortable when I point out how the patriarchy operates in daily life.
In other words, I connect this concept of being hated to Ahmed’s theory of displacement: people who hate me do so because they believe they’re being displaced at the centre of decision-making and power. Their narratives and histories aren’t the only ones.
There’s a famous quote by Clay Shirky that I bring up all the time:
“When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.”
Not everyone needs to like me. That’s not possible nor is it something that I strive for. I reject respectability politics or politics of niceness. It’s not possible to be nice in the face of oppression. Nor should we ask people for that. Politeness has never toppled oppressive regimes or brought about justice, especially in a material way.
But what does liking or hating me have to do with anything?
I don’t care if you like my quirky personality. I don’t care if you find the way I talk to animals irritating. I am unbothered if you think I’m silly because I believe in magic and want to climb trees. I am totally ambivalent if you think my gestures make me look like an anime character, but not in a good way. Yes, I post photos of mushrooms – just click unfollow.
Let’s detach my (undeniably charming) personality from what this is about. People are not saying they hate me because they know me personally. Most have probably never had a conversation with me or even seen me in real life. They’re saying they hate what I stand for, hate what I do, and—this is important—hate how I do it.
Anyone can have any feelings about me and how I go about my work. That’s just real. But I would encourage the people feeling that hate to question where it comes from. Is it really about how I do my work? Maybe. That could be because I’m not centring that specific person in my work or worrying about their discomfort. Therefore, it’s not really about me. It’s about them.
I once had a conversation with someone about removing the Begbie statue. He felt that the community should have been consulted. I reflected that back to him: the community of settlers should have been consulted when the Tŝilhqot’in National Government—representing those who were deeply harmed by Begbie’s actions—have already weighed in? How would we then consider the input of those who have been harmed versus those who haven’t? Those for whom the statue doesn’t even really exist in their reality versus those for whom it is a symbol of ongoing colonial violence?
The statue is such a great example because I highly doubt that the people who defended the statue were huge fans of it as a piece of art or hugely familiar with Begbie’s work. After all, it said very little about his career on the attached plaque.
Let me explain this another way: recently the BC Government undertook public engagement on what would constitute an apology to the Japanese-Canadian community for internment. Should everyone be able to weigh in? Or should it matter what my 101-year-old grandma who was interned says about what an apology should be? Should a person who was not impacted by internment get to have their opinion weighed equally against my grandma’s? Or what about someone who benefited from internment, either by obtaining my grandfather’s fishing boat, or moving onto the (unceded) property that my grandma lived in?
So what is all the hullaballoo about? Displacement. Decentring. Re-prioritizing.
How I do my work is by considering impact. Those most impacted should be most consulted and considered. Those who are, frankly, doing fine should consider giving up space and power to those aren’t. That’s it. That’s my work. Send the hate my way.
References
Ahmed, S. (2014). The cultural politics of emotion (2nd ed.). Edinburgh University Press.
