Tear up your gaydar quiz

i started reading the blog effing dykes when i was living in seattle. it was all the rage among my friends. over the past couple years, effing dykes has received a lot of attention and krista, its author, even more. the blog, which professes to assist struggling gays with their gaydar, has always irked me, but i keep reading it much in the same way i watched the entire six seasons of the L Word (more than once). sometimes it feels like there are just so few options in queer media that many of us settle for remarkably subpar products just to feel included.

typically i read the new effing dyke's post and grumble a bit about it, then i move on. not this time though. this time i'm grumbling onto the internet. partially because second term has ended and i've re-committed myself to blogging regularly. partially because i think i've finally realized this may be what the internet is about.

this past week krista posted one of her 'gaydar quizzes'. these are the crux of effing dykes. she set up the scenario of a gay woman (who is not high femme) going shopping. readers are supposed to select which items this fictional character would pick out, given our knowledge of her as a 'lesbian'. we know nothing else about her.

okay, before even diving into how this is really just an exercise in reinforcing tired stereotypes, i want to address the problem of language in this blog. krista alternates somewhat haphazardly among queer, dyke, gay, lesbian, and a litany of slang for these populations. however, who is she actually talking about and to? is she talking about cisgendered women who fuck other cisgendered women? that's a distinct population and, importantly, distinct from queer folks who approach gender and sexuality with more fluidity. these are not words that can just be interchanged without intention. (i will use her words in this post, but in quotes)

moving right along! the outcome of the gaydar quiz is a grand theory about a universal truth of 'lesbian' fashion: simplicity and functionality. according to krista, these are two of the cornerstones of 'lesbian' style. she discovers this by observing the 'gay' population and asking "why did i think they looked gay? what did that even mean?" these are good and important questions to ask, i think. in earlier posts i've written about why i believe it's important to be able to recognize community. how and why you know someone else is queer is an interesting, complicated, and potentially problematic endeavor. krista goes in a different direction, however. from these questions, she develops her theory by noting overwhelming similarities in style. now i would say another question would be: what is the point of fashion?

clearly that's a huge question that cannot be answered by me. still, i think it's important to examine fashion a bit. fashion and style have many uses and are employed differently by different people, certainly. however, one point is presenting an image of yourself to society so you can be read the way you want to be. we learn by observing those around us and by living in a media saturated society how to dress ourselves into these images. if you wanted to become a punk, how hard would it really be for you to think of the types of outfits and accessories you would need to at least craft a passing image for that community?

we rely on stereotypes constantly, especially when deducing information about someone based on their appearance. effing dykes reinforces these stereotypes constantly. why are all of these 'women' so recognizable as 'gay'? maybe because they are intentionally presenting themselves as such. they know what to wear in order to fit in to the queer community because the messages are all around, including in krista's blog posts. have you ever gone out at night and realized that everyone seems to be wearing a variation on the same theme? this is not a coincidence.

the problem is these are stereotypes. they are not universally true at all. who do they leave out? in what ways do they streamline what it looks like to be queer? krista points out that no one sees her as 'gay' at first because she is a femme. since she does not don the uniform she so heavily reinforces as the 'gay look' in her blog, no one knows she is 'gay'. the more heavily we perpetuate these tired ideas of 'what it means to be gay' or 'what gay looks like' the more people we exclude.

though she ends the post with a statement from "we, as a people", she has to insert a small print caveat "cept for femmes". this qualifier is significant. the queer community is not homogenous by far and any sweeping claim is probably falling short on many accounts. however, it's a fairly weak universal theory if within it there has to be a small print exception made for a huge portion of the community. maybe it's just not necessary to try to find clever generalizations for a community that prides itself on difference. we don't have to all dress the same, fuck the same, smirk the same to be queer. we're queer, that's enough.

Who has the time for that?

i remember when i used to blog. when i used to want to blog. when i used to feel like i had time to blog. those were nice days.

lately, i've been thinking a lot about time, and not just because i wish i had more of it but because of its uncanny ability to impact everything. i've been trying to be aware of the fact that how i think about time influences the way i experience time.

a few weeks ago a friend told me that they measure time by seasons. she has trouble attaching years to events. this conversation made me interrogate how i perceive time. i have a very visual memory, and when i think back, i don't remember years or seasons. i remember my environment. sure, from places i can figure out the year, but time for me builds from statements like 'that was when i was living in (fill in the blank)'.

i've started writing this post a fair few times. it's gone in several different directions. apparently, i have a lot that i want to say about time. i doubt my interest in time is, er, fleeting, so instead of articulating thoughts that are still rather rough, i think it'd be more interesting to hear from anyone who happens to be reading this:

when you stop to think about it - how do you measure time? what are your markers for time?

The privilege behind the 's' word

Hey folks! A few people asked me about a tangential comment I made in my last post regarding white privilege and the book The Ethical Slut. I thought it would make sense to address that in a little post.

Language is rarely, if ever, neutral. Words come to have meaning through historical and cultural legacies. A word that invokes a strong negative reaction in North America might not mean anything particularly provocative in another country. Words are largely context-dependent.

The word slut has a long history in the United States - a product of chattel slavery and white mens' concerns over black female 'promiscuity'. Instead of delving further into this history and the implications for black women myself, I'm going to direct everyone to an article written by the Black Women's Blueprint. They are an intersectional activist group based in Brooklyn, NY. They say it all. I encourage everyone to read it. And thanks to my friend Apu for sharing the link!

http://www.blackwomensblueprint.org/2011/09/23/an-open-letter-from-black-women-to-the-slutwalk/

The myth of monogamy

My first term has ended, and I've been meandering about the Northwest ever since. One night in Seattle, my partner and I were feeling a bit under the weather. We made a delicious pot of soup, and settled in for the evening. We discovered a movie on Netflix that we had both watched and enjoyed in high school - Never Been Kissed.

In Never Been Kissed , '25 year old' Drew Barrymore finds true, everlasting, heterosexual love. Prior to her fantastical discovery, she has never kissed anyone, been in love, or had a relationship. Yet she has no doubts that she is totally emotionally and sexually prepared to enter into a relationship that will be forever (with a man she has misled and betrayed!). Why does she think this? Because it's her destiny!

From the very beginning of the movie, Barrymore's character lectures the audience on the process of true love. First, you share a kiss similar to a fireworks display. Second, you get married and live happily ever after.

Now, it doesn't really matter if you haven't seen this movie. It could have been any movie. The specifics of the plots may differ, but the message remains constant. Growing up in North America, it's difficult to wonder at what the 'appropriate' path for development is. However, if one were to have doubts, they could just have a little movie night.

The relationships portrayed in these movies are not just overwhelmingly white and heterosexual, they are monogamous. They are unquestionably monogamous. Barrymore's character believes that she will share her life with the first person she kisses. In fact, she saves her first kiss for this person. The audience is supposed to support this idea. Further, we are supposed to cheer when the 'happy' couple share their much-anticipated kiss.

Realistically, it is far more likely that their partnership will not work out than that they will triumph in heterosexual monogamous bliss. Divorce rates alone would suggest this; however, what about something way more basic? Monogamy is not simply natural for people. Monogamy must be worked at. It is something that we as North Americans learn to view as natural. And talk about a construction that is heavily promoted! The promotion of monogamy basically engulfs us from birth. Never Been Kissed is one measly example of a movie that reinforces the myth of monogamy.

I wrote this (in a little notebook) while on a plane to Austin, TX. My partner sat next to me, reading the Ethical Slut, a practical guide to polyamory (a book that should have seriously rethought the white privilege of their title), and the man across the aisle kept eyeing us and the book. It is not a coincidence that non-monogamous relationships are more common in the queer community. As queers, we have already failed to fit the bill. We will never be able to live up to society's standard for appropriate, hegemonic relationships. This failure opens up a lot of possibilities. One of them is polyamory. Of course, this isn't just about queerness. This is about all types of relationships that are non-normative: ones that cross racial lines, span age differences, cross religions and cultures. Any failure to fit the mold creates new spaces for exploration. Let's fail in style.

Point of clarification: I do not mean to suggest that people cannot choose to be in monogamous relationships. But that's what they are doing - choosing. Monogamous relationships are not the natural form of relating to each other as in they are social constructions - just like so much of our worlds. They should not be privileged over other types of relationships. People should be able to choose whatever types of relationships fulfill them; no relationship model is inherently more 'natural' than any other in this way.

The assumption game

Welcome back. Today we're going to play a game inspired by my latest trip to the gynecologist. It's called 'find all the assumptions'! It's pretty self-explanatory. I'm going to recount the major verbal interaction in the visit, and we're all going to see how many assumptions we can find 'buried' within the conversation. Ready? Okay, let's play!

Today I went to the gynecologist. After a (very) brief chat about why I was there, the doctor dug into some important basic, background questions. We were discussing sexual activity and partners, when she asked/stated: you're heterosexual, yeah?

L: No, I'm not.

Dr: Oh, then who are your sexual partners?

L: I sleep with women.

At this point, the doctor is getting ready to do a pelvic exam. She asks me if I have ever had sex with a man. This seems entirely irrelevant to my visit and, well, my life, but I responded in the affirmative.

She was relieved! The fact that I had slept with a man meant that she would be able to perform a pelvic exam on me. This seemed like strange logic to me. Luckily, she explained.

L: You know, you could use a speculum even if I had only been with females.

Dr: Many lesbians (her term) can't have a speculum inside.

L: I find that hard to believe. You know females who have sex with females also have penetration, right?

Dr: Some do. Many don't.

Our conversation went on, but that was real gist of the interaction. Let's discuss, shall we?

First, clearly, is the assumption of heterosexuality. Not only did the doctor assume that I was heterosexual, but the way she asked the question implied that it would be offensive to suggest otherwise. I present as queer. There are many reasons for this. One of the reasons is that I want to be read as queer. I am certainly not offended when someone assumes I'm queer. In North American society, you are assumed straight until proven queer. From her question, tone, and inflection, it's clear that my doctor really wanted to give me the benefit of the doubt and the 'chance' to be straight.

While not an assumption, I'm going to go ahead and say her question about my experience with men is inappropriate and, again, offensive. But oh, did it get better! Assumption: queer women can't fuck each other. This is, obviously, false. Unfortunately, my (ex)doctor still labors under the misapprehension that sex is a penis-in-the-vagina game. That's too bad for her. It's also too bad for every one of her queer patients. There are many issues with power dynamics involved in doctor-patient relationships. These can be exacerbated in a gynecological setting because of the vulnerability of the set-up. When a doctor systematically disregards or pathologizes your identity, it doesn't exactly neutralize those concerns.

Moreover, not only is it entirely offensive to suggest that I would not be able to receive a pelvic exam because I don't sleep with men, but it's also just bad medicine. I'm a 25 year old, sexually active female. You are a gynecologist. You need to find a way to give me an exam. That is your job.

I spoke to a pretty rad medical student recently. She told me about the training on GLBTQ issues they were receiving at her school. It makes me hopeful that ultimately there will be some shift in language and care. However, the basic assumptions my doctor made (of heterosexuality and that queer women don't have 'real' sex) are not just part of the medical community. Those assumptions exist everywhere. They are constantly reinforced.

Where do you see them in your life? How do they affect you?

Performing heterosexiness on the main stage

The interwebs are pulsing: Jenelle Hutcherson is Long Beach's first openly gay pageant contestant!

Beauty pageants have a lot of notoriety, famous in feminist discourse for reifying a very strict standard of femininity. What then does it mean when a lesbian enters a beauty pageant?

I think this question is interesting because it cuts at the core of what femininity really is and who is able to achieve/possess it. Already the discourse around Hutcherson's participation in the pageant affirms the heterosexual core of femininity.

I have already read two different versions of the statement with which I started this post. One depicts Hutcherson as simply the first openly gay pageant contestant. The other, however, posits her as the first openly gay pageant contestant to wear a tux, insinuating that there have been other openly gay contestants but they did not perform gender deviance as Hutcherson plans to by presenting in the formalwear associated with the male gender.

This distinction necessitates the question: What is the difference between the participation of a lesbian (I'm using the words Hutcherson uses to label herself) who performs normative gender and the participation of a lesbian who does not?

Femininity is a hegemonic category. Basically, femininity is seen as a given category. Femininity is seen as natural, not constructed. The naturalness of femininity makes all the ways in which it is constructed invisible. It also makes invisible the assumption that there is an understood natural category of the ideal feminine. Hegemonic femininity is inextricably linked with white heterosexuality. It is not possible to be appropriately feminine without being a white heterosexual. 'Real' femininity is constructed in relation to men within the context of heterosexuality.

A critical analysis of the behaviors and actions that a female must engage in to construct femininity further emphasizes this point. Many of the behaviors are centered around sexual desirability. But sexual desirability for whom? The intended, implied, or assumed audience is not queer. It's white heterosexual men. The aim is to be heterosexy.

Okay, let's apply this lens back to Hutcherson. Hutcherson is always already marked as not a real woman because she does not engage in heterosexuality. Further, however, she presents a non-normative gender. She cannot 'pass' as heterosexual because of her gender identity. In North American society there is a strong association between gender identity and sexual identity. It is not always accurate, far from it. It is a product of the heteronormativity of society. If heterosexuality is the norm, then females will behave in order to be sexually desirable to males. Intentionally bunking socially accepted and expected norms around gender presentation implies that a person is not interested in taking part in heterosexuality.

Of course, that may or may not be accurate. What is important is that such behavior is read that way. A person who presents a non-normative gender is coded as queer.

So, Hutcherson, with her non-normative gender presentation, would not be able to 'pass' as heterosexual in the competition. Would she want to? Probably not. She seems pretty loud and proud about her position in the gay community. She is running specifically as an other in the pageant. However, as an other, she doesn't really have an option. Her status as a contestant will always be qualified by lesbian.

And what do people think about her entrance into an event that preserves, embraces, and defines femininity?

Well, it really hasn't been that long since she announced her participation. However, she is not just any other contestant. Clearly. She is the gay contestant. Hey, did you know Hutcherson is gay? That means she is not like all the other contestants. Hutcherson cannot compete in the same way as the other contestants because, well, you know. She's gay.

All comments that I have read so far, whether positive or negative, affirm this otherness.

I want to highlight a few themes I have noticed so far in the comments: appearance.

Oh, did I say few? I meant ONE. Yes, about that. The main theme, not surprisingly, is about Hutcherson's appearance. She is "ugly", "butch", and "gross". People wonder why she won't just find a lesbian contest she could enter - I mean, you don't find straight women trying to enter lesbian contests so clearly lesbians shouldn't try to enter straight contests. Fair is fair, mos.

I won't go through all the comments (I know this post is getting long), but I want to check out one in particular: "I don't care that she is a lesbian but she is really ugly!"

I think this comment nicely sums up some of the points that I was trying to get at in this post. Hutcherson is an attractive person. Really though, Hutcherson is an attractive lesbian. She is certainly not heterosexy. So, in terms of that comment, it does matter that she is a lesbian because that is constructing the frame through which the speaker is defining beauty. The speaker is referring to heterosexual attractiveness, or hegemonic beauty. That is why Hutcherson, who does not perform normative gender or sexuality, is not viewed as possessing it or able to achieve it.

I'm interested to see how the discourse around her participation will develop.

What if this is how it worked

Okay, full disclaimer: this is not a well thought out plan. This plan was hatched by my housemate and me during an evolving rant in our kitchen this past Saturday night. It is not a 'real' idea. It is mostly for fun that I share it.

This past week I read the latest (and most conservative) estimate on the current gender gap in wages. This estimate put women earning an average of 86 cents on the man's dollar.

My housemate and I were discussing equity in rent/utility bills. You can probably see where this is going now. If 'women' (I am using quotes because what is this monolithic 'women' category?) make an average of 86 cents to the dollar, is it really equitable to charge them the same amount as 'men'? Further breakdowns along race, gender identity, sexual identity, class, education level, and so on would clearly be necessary to approach that ever fleeting equity.

Think about it though. If you take two people who have the same job and account for education, professional experience, all the necessary qualifications, part-time status, children in the household, and race - the woman in the dyad will still make 86 cents on that man's dollar. So, in that case, when that fictional woman goes to buy groceries, shouldn't she be able to pay 86 cents to the dollar? Why should she pay the same amount for amenities etc when she is underpaid her wage?