When evaluating my own roots, as Shange often pushes me to, I turn to the Turkish academic Ayşe Gül Altınay. Professor Altınay, a personal feminist exemplar, was recently arrested and sentenced to two years in prison after signing a petition criticizing the Turkish government on behalf of the Academics For Peace Group. This serves as a case study in governmental treatment of pedagogy worldwide, and how American challenges of criminalizing, not just bodies, but ideas, are not uniquely American. Today, American discussions of the federal government dictating which news is “fake” and “real” are deeply intertwined with conversations on the mass incarceration, as political power structures force marginalized communities deeper into society’s margins. One can criminalize opposition and create bureaucratic barriers between a writer and publisher, but one cannot stop individuals from sharing their ideas to counter hegemony.
Last Fall, Professor Altınay gave a lecture on “Bridging Academia and Activism Through Gender Studies,” where she both gave an overview of the feminist movement in Turkey and reflected on her own work as a scholar of gender and sexuality studies in Turkey. The history of female-identified Turkish activists fighting for change is being gradually erased over time, and one can view the treatment of their history as seemingly disposable in the eyes of the government and educators. Gender and Sexuality scholars such as Professor Altınay have been discovering pre-existing Kurdish and Armenian women’s organizations from the times of the Turkish feminist movement, which were excluded from the mainstream documentation of the movement.
“Why am I compelled to write? Because the writing saves me from this complacency I fear. Because I have no choice. Because I must keep the spirit of my revolt and myself alive. Because the world I create in the writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. I write because life does not appease my appetites and hunger. I write to record what others erase when I speak, to rewrite the stories others have miswritten about me, about you.” – Gloria Anzaldúa
For Anzaldúa and Altınay, words represent a lifeline. For those fighting tirelessly amidst systemic oppression, writing one’s own history is essential to survival. Complacency emerges when the Third World Woman is spoken for, as these narratives represent the sanctity of her own voice. Through their fierce attempts to safeguard the written word, from eastern Anatolia to New York City, writers like Altınay and Anzaldúa work to reshape and reclaim historical narratives.
