What’s in a Name? Limitations and Opportunities of Using ‘Woman of Colour’
POC, WOC, BIPOC, BAME – the list of acronyms that describe non-white people is endless, and although there are good reasons for grouping communities together, the terminology can also be limiting.
At Thousand&One, we chose “women of colour” to refer to our community. For us, the term offers possibilities and acts as a unifier that connects us to one another. Before we settled on this term, we thought long and hard about how it would be perceived, interpreted, and unpacked. Our intent with this piece is to dive into why some embrace terms such as POC or WOC, while others refrain from using them. We also wanted to better understand how these labels were coined and whether they are more fitted to certain contexts and environments.
We know there’s no ‘perfect’ term to speak for all our histories, identities, and experiences. We also know that using terminology that excludes or erases the complexities and nuances of certain groups detracts from the intent of these unifying terms.
That said, we recognize the power of language and its ability to create solidarity amongst marginalized people, in the face of systems and structures that have served white, heteronormative, able-bodied, and cis-gendered men. So whether we choose to stick to this term, or one day leave it behind for a more suitable one, the conversation is imperative.
Illustration by Liu Liu
Our Positionality
We were born in Iran and immigrated to Canada at a very young age. We are Muslim-identifying Iranian women who have lived and worked in Western societies with deep colonial histories. With immigration came its own unique challenges – feeling homesick, out of place, and ‘othered’. However, we are not just immigrants, but settlers, in a country founded on stolen land and the genocide of Indigenous peoples.
We grew up as visibly Muslim women, marked by our headscarves, in a post-9/11 world where we experienced Islamophobia firsthand. Our names, bodies, and choices have rendered us as ‘foreign’ in a place we call home. Criminalized and policed at every border, our personal and spiritual journeys and identities as Muslim women have been overshadowed by political and racist discourse.
“We grew up as visibly Muslim women, marked by our headscarves, in a post-9/11 world where we experienced Islamophobia firsthand. Our names, bodies, and choices have rendered us as ‘foreign in a place we call home.”
In so many ways, our personal story has granted us the opportunity to think about structural issues that go beyond our own experiences and barriers. And as we build our collective here at Thousand&One under the umbrella of ‘women of colour’, we understand both the limitations as well as the possibilities of this unifier.
The Story Behind Never-ending Acronyms
You’ve probably heard of terms such as People of Colour (POC) and Women of Colour (WOC). There are plenty of acronyms used to describe non-white or racialized individuals.
The deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery, and the Black Lives Matter protests in May 2020 led to a spike in the usage of the term BIPOC. The term stands for Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour, and specifically highlights the struggles of Black and Indigenous people, shedding light on the hierarchy that is reflective in North American society and its legacy of slavery and colonialism.
The acronym BAME is predominantly used in the UK and stands for Black, Asian, and Minority Ethnic. It is used as an umbrella term to describe non-white ethnicities and was coined in the 1970s as part of the UK’s anti-racist movement. Similarly, the term “women of color” can be traced back to the politics of its time. In discussing the origins of the term, Loretta Ross, the co-founder and national coordinator of SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective explains that the term is not a biological descriptor, but instead holds a political and ideological history.
And even though today WOC seems to be a buzzword, its history and origins go back to the International Women’s Year Conference in 1977 in Houston, Texas. This led to the Black Women’s Agenda, which highlights the centrality of Black women’s activism in the construction of this label. At the heart of this label is Black experience, unity, and resistance. Ross notes that the term is "a solidarity definition; a commitment to work in collaboration with other oppressed women of color", and so part of this activism sought to also include other minority women, forming a sense of solidarity among non-white women more generally.
The Limitations
These acronyms and terms present many limitations. To start, they lack specificity and are used as umbrella terms to describe a wide range of cultures, ethnicities, and experiences. Ultimately, these broad categorizations lose their power, especially when attempting to acknowledge individual struggles faced by people of colour from different ethnic backgrounds.
“Historically, POC referred to Black people, Native Americans and Latinos, particularly those of Mexican origin, because one could argue that these three groups have the longest history of being racialized in the United States.”
In the episode ‘Is It Time To Say R.I.P. To 'POC'?’ from NPR’s Code Switch, co-host and senior producer Shereen Marisol Meraji notes that “Historically, POC referred to Black people, Native Americans, and Latinos, particularly those of Mexican origin, because one could argue that these three groups have the longest history of being racialized in the United States.
Meraji continues, “But now when we say POC, we include Asians of all backgrounds - Pacific Islanders, Arab, Middle Eastern and North African people - especially those who are Muslim. They've all been denied membership to the whites-only club. They have been othered, made to feel perpetually foreign, not American, because being American is so often used as shorthand for white and Christian.”
While the term POC serves to describe the non-American or non-white experience, grouping all communities together can be immensely harmful because it diminishes the unique experiences and historic struggles of Black and Indigenous people.
In their piece, We are Black women. Stop calling us ‘women of color.’, Donna F. Edwards and Gwen McKinney describe how as Black women, the term POC makes them “stiffen.” For them, “the term obscures the varied realities of Latinas and Asian, Pacific Islander and Indigenous women.” They go on to say that “we all become an amorphous monochrome, our multidimensional heritages and ancestries neutralized.”
The terms BIPOC and BAME acknowledge that not all people of colour face equal levels of injustice, and highlight the severe systemic racial discrimination that impacts Black and Indigenous people. That said, it can be argued that they suggest a sense of inferiority and lack humanity, because it is still used to compare these individuals to the White majority.
In her book “Anti-Racist Ally”, Black writer Sophie Williams discusses why she doesn’t like terms such as BIPOC, BAME, or POC. Her biggest problem with these terms is that they center on whiteness. She says: “Everyone who isn’t white is lumped together through terms like BAME, POC, and BIPOC without thought for their individual experiences. In this way white becomes a binary – white or not white – and all of the subtlety, richness, and variety of different groups is whitewashed away.” Williams goes on to say that these terms can reinforce binaries that continue to view whiteness as the default and evoke a sense of tokenism.
We spoke to Mansi Gupta, founder of Unconform Studio, an independent design studio that exists to make design for women mainstream. She grew up in India, moved to the US, and now lives in the Netherlands. She says, “I personally don't identify with the term WOC. I learned of it when I moved to the US and I feel that it only applies when I'm in the Global North to describe my ‘otherness’."
She continues, “people from South Asia have been called non-black POC, and I feel that including myself in WOC might ‘take away’ from the marginalized groups it is trying to serve.”
Language is dynamic, it will shift and sway with the context of the times, and that’s a good thing. Certain terminology might also mean different things in different places around the world, and the same is true of POC, BIPOC, and BAME. So what are some of the possibilities these terms present? Can they be useful in serving some communities?
The Opportunities
Despite the limitations of labels, social and political movements require a sense of identity that can unite people, especially those who have been historically marginalized. In choosing WOC, we understand where this term falls short, but we also believe that this unifier has positive implications.
Earlier, we discussed the origins of the term WOC by referencing Ross who points out that the label holds political and ideological history, and functions as a “solidarity definition.” For us, we believe in the strength of unity and community in dismantling the systems that continue to harm us all.
This terminology is important because it frames both the historical context as well as the contemporary discourse around racial and social injustices in North America. Grouping communities together is not necessarily negative, and labels are not inherently bad. In fact, what they are successful at is mobilizing these very communities that have historically been marginalized and neglected, and positioning them at the centre of these conversations.
“Grouping communities together is not necessarily negative, and labels are not inherently bad. In fact, what they are successful at is mobilizing these very communities that have historically been marginalized and neglected, and positioning them at the centre of these conversations.”
Just in the last year, we have witnessed Black people be ruthlessly killed by police in the US; mass graves of Indigenous children were uncovered on former residential schools in Canada, and anti-Asian, Muslim, and Trans violence run rampant across the continent. North America has a colonial history and is built on slavery and systemic and institutional racism that continues to this present day.
For us, choosing WOC to refer to our community is a celebration of unity and resistance in the face of this history and ongoing struggle. Our diverse non-white communities have the potential to provide a safe space where we can celebrate the uniqueness of our experiences, share stories of our ancestral pasts, and spread knowledge that can benefit us all. Our shared pain and resilience can connect us to one another and allow us to heal as a collective.
As Muslim women, we have experiences that connect us to other marginalized women. But we have no idea what it feels like to be Black, Indigenous, or Trans. We know from our own unique experiences that these systems and structures do not afford any of us the dignity we deserve. We hope our collective outrage can form strong bonds of solidarity between us and our diverse communities. For us, WOC isn’t some trendy buzzword. It’s also much bigger than a label. It is the formation of a ‘we’, and the acknowledgment that feeling rooted, heard, and inspired can allow us to fight, heal, and grow together.
So, Where Does This Leave Us?
Below are three things we have learned through this conversation that we are taking with us as Thousand&One evolves:
Meaningful and Intentional Dialogue
Being aware of the current discourse in this space, and acknowledging that there is diversity in these communities is crucial. Having difficult conversations and continuously questioning the impact of these terms will allow us to move towards more suitable ones.
Recognizing the Limits of Language
While language is never perfect, and we might not find the ideal terms to describe the complexities of our identities and histories, we do have one thing in common. We’re all operating in a white supremacist culture and system that was not designed for us. Embracing similarities can be powerful, and in contexts where it is appropriate, it can be used to create a sense of belonging and solidarity.
“Embracing similarities can be powerful, and in contexts where it is appropriate, it can be used to create a sense of belonging and solidarity.”
We spoke to Doris Quintanilla and Kaitlyn Ramirez Borysiewicz, co-founders of The Melanin Collective, a social enterprise that “educates, empowers, and creates transformational change in the lives of womxn and gender non-conforming people of colour in the workplace.”
The duo spoke about the changing nature of language. “We recognize that language will never be perfect. But as we were founding The Melanin Collective, we wanted to at least try. Pulling from the insights and experiences of our collective, we settled on language that was informed by our community.”
Adaptability is Key
New language and terminology can make us nervous about how to refer to people. The simple answer is to ask. Be humble, be kind, and ask the individual what their preference is.
In a Chatelaine interview with Kike Ojo-Thompson, principle consultant at Kojo Institute, an equity consultancy in Toronto, Kike emphasizes that although the appropriateness of the term BIPOC is contextual, it’s important to be specific about the group being referenced. She says, “As far as I’m concerned, racialized is 100 percent the better term. It leaves room to be specific about who you’re talking about. If you’re talking about Black people, say Black. If you’re talking about Indigenous people, say Indigenous. And so on. Recognize our uniqueness, our humanity and our individual experiences.”
Love it or Hate it? Let us Know.
There was good rationale for grouping people together, but this isn’t the end of this conversation. We want all women to feel seen, and we believe in a community where every individual, and their cultures and experiences get deserved and separate attention. At the end of the day, we want women to express their identities in a way they’re comfortable with.
So, what does that look like to you? We turn to you to reflect and share your thoughts on this conversation. Is there a way for women of colour to unite as a collective, without erasing our unique experiences, identities, and cultures? How might we come together to fight against a system that doesn’t serve us, while acknowledging that our battles can be different?
Coming up Next
Next month, we’re shifting gears to discuss tips and strategies on how to navigate workplace structures and systems as women of colour. Surviving in unjust systems is one thing, but is there a way we can thrive?