My First Little Book of Intersectional Activism

by Titania McGrath

I know that there is wisdom in youth. As a baby, my first words were: ‘Seize the means of production.’

Believe me, future generations will thank us if we successfully eliminate heterosexuality.

So let me tell you a bit about myself. I am Titania McGrath: scourge of the patriarchy, breaker of chains, the embodiment of social justice. If truth bombs were eggs, I’d be a chicken. So if you’re unsure about which opinions to have, this is the book for you.

I have started performing my more shocking and evocative poems at environmental protests, such as the ever-popular ‘Mother Earth is Not Your Slut’. I tend to recite it completely naked, except for a pashmina fashioned from interlaced earthworms. Some people find my performance so moving that they actually have to leave. In addition to my lyrical prowess, I am also an oppressed minority. I’m ecosexual, which means I only have sex with plants and vegetables. I’m trans-disabled, which means that I am permitted to use the more spacious public toilet facilities in spite of my functioning legs. And I’m also hay-racial, which means that my ethnic identity tends to fluctuate depending on the pollen count.

If the apocalypse does come, we need to ensure that it doesn’t disproportionately affect minority groups.

I have a dream that little children will one day live in a nation where they will be judged not by the content of their character, but by the colour of their skin, in order to fulfil diversity quotas and deconstruct the inherent toxicity of whiteness. I have a dream that little black boys and little black girls and little black gender-nonconforming children will be able to work as one to dismantle oppressive institutionalised power structures and cis-dominant heteronormative discourses of privilege.

If you’ve ever been unfortunate enough to read any of the works of dead white males like Henry James, Leo Tolstoy or George Eliot, you’ll be shocked at the lack of diversity. I recently read Oliver Twist, a so-called ‘classic’ by a male called Charles Dickens (written on white paper, no less), and there were literally no pangender or non-binary characters, or even the most fleeting reference to a mosque. Even the font had a certain heteronormative quality about it.

Do not say the word ‘bisexual’ because that implies that there are only two sexes and is therefore transphobic. Instead of ‘LGBTQIA+’, therefore, you should say ‘LGXTQIA+’. And avoid patriarchal terminology such as ‘cum’, ‘jizz’ or ‘semen’; it’s much better to simply call it ‘hate syrup’.

Support the important work of fat activists. For a long time now I have been considering the possibility that I might transition to obese, or what I sometimes like to refer as equatorially protuberant. Apparently it’s not all that difficult. All it would take is long periods of immobility and copious quantities of fried bread. Alternatively, you can simply identify as obese. That way, you’re making a statement against fat-shaming, but you don’t have to worry about type 2 diabetes or looking rough in a thong.

Campaign for gender equality in whatever way you can. For my nephew’s fifth birthday, I smashed up twenty per cent of his presents with a hammer to teach him how it feels to be a casualty of the gender pay gap. He was so grateful he actually wept.

More and more of us are embracing intersectionality. Take the gay pride rainbow flag. In 2017, the city of Philadelphia added two new stripes to the flag – black and brown – in order to make it more racially inclusive. This is important, because the rainbow flag has always been a literal representation of which skin colours are acceptable in the gay community. But even with this triumph, there is so much more to be achieved. Why are there no black or brown stripes in the actual rainbows we see in the sky? Surely this means that the weather is racist. As such, we need to launch a campaign calling on meteorologists to find a way to modify the process by which light is refracted and dispersed in order to remedy the inherent racism of the electromagnetic spectrum.

I have overcome these tribulations to become a pioneer for social justice. I am the sole beacon of hope in the dark hinterland of humanity’s expiring soul. Minority groups adore me, because I am brave enough to stand up for their rights, even when they don’t know what’s best for themselves. I am the alpha and the omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. I am the scourge of the rampaging hellbeast of heteropatriarchal whiteness. I am the spirit of the Amistad made flesh. I bleed truth. So join the cause. Be one of us. Now is your time to mount the burly steed of virtue and charge headlong into the culture war. For we shall only achieve true diversity in our society when everyone thinks in exactly the same way as me. Allāhu Akbar. Believe women. Wakanda forever.