Something I’ve thought and spoken a lot about lately is the idea that, in our society, we seem to have created a hierarchy of –isms and –phobias. We seem to mostly agree that racism is worse than sexism, sexism is worse than homophobia, homophobia is worse than transphobia and transphobia is worse than ableism. If anyone was surprised by this, I urge you to listen more closely to how we receive the struggles of others. Amongst minorities, there seems to be this one-up-man-ship that plagues our conversations. Not only does this keep minorities in any discipline or location from creating safer spaces overall, it also invalidates the experiences and feelings of others. More than that, it puts us in the place to measure suffering on an objective scale that tells us that we can’t possibly feel marginalized when there are people much worse off. For this reason, it’s so easy to divide ourselves by our suffering and never move beyond pitying those who seem to endure the most hardship.

What I don’t think we consciously realize is that, by creating this hierarchy, we aren’t actually helping anyone. We’re certainly not helping those who “suffer the most,” given that we place them into a group separate from ourselves and never actually learn about how to work as their allies. And we definitely don’t help “the least marginalized” either, because we have this notion that their trauma is somehow less because we have compared it to people who should be struggling so much more. Instead of bridging the gap, we consciously widen it, but I haven’t heard a single valid reason why we do this. Can our suffering really be measured objectively, anyway?

I mentioned in my article last week on race that I could never possibly understand the struggles of someone who is non-white. I could very easily relay my experiences being a minority in a variety of spaces, but could never begin to imagine what it would be like to suffer from institutionalized racism on a daily basis. As someone who’s very country and culture is based on appropriation and racism, I would feel uncomfortable in assuming that I somehow understand what life is like for an indigenous, black or Hispanic person in America. I don’t understand anything but my experience, which is benefiting from this society as a white, able-bodied, cisgender person at a top university.

But does this make my struggles any less real or legitimate? Does this mean that life is perfect and that my experiences of discrimination can be brushed off due to my privilege in a number of areas? I have learned here that my answer is no. I used to think being an ally meant to step into the struggle someone else was facing and, once I felt what they felt, use it to relate to others why discrimination, -isms and -phobias in that one area are wrong. But I can’t step into and truly feel the struggle of anyone else, which is precisely why this hierarchy is harmful. This hierarchy separates me from the stories and experiences that would help me best understand my peers and their struggles. Because I can’t step into their shoes, listening to their stories is the only way I could possibly begin to learn what it means to be an ally for a community I’m not a part of.

So, how do we break down this hierarchy? This is a question I’m struggling to find concrete answers to, and I encourage collaboration amongst all of us. Any suggestions are much appreciated and always legitimate, no matter where on the scale of suffering you have been told, you fall. It takes all of us.