Musings on Life for the Queerly Inclined

Archive for the ‘political’ Category

He Didn’t Just Objectify Me, Did He? – Gay Men and Misogyny

Heads up, everyone: this is an angry post and it’s a hurt post.  If you aren’t up for dealing with that right now, this is your chance to exit.  That being said, I wanna address an issue that is incredibly important to discuss, yet gets written off as no big deal: misogyny in the queer community, specifically on the part of gay men.  I’ve been thinking and talking about this a lot recently and have gotten mixed responses.  Mostly, the gay guys I’ve talked to are totally unaware of this problem and don’t see how their own behavior fits these patterns.  Ugh.  Women…eh, reactions range from “OMG I KNOW I HAVE SO MANY STORIES JUST LIKE THAT” to “Are you kidding me?  There’s no way it could be that bad.  They’re gay–it’s not like that.”

Oh but it is like that.

[TW: body policing, casual misogyny, and sexual harassment/unwanted touching]

Groping and commenting on others’ bodies (unsolicited, without consent) is a huge problem, regardless of whether you claim to be sexually attracted to that type of body or not.  This happens especially in the case of gay men feeling entitled to women’s bodies.  In a society in which gay men are stereotyped as feminine, they’re both damned for that (“good men are masculine”) and celebrated as experts on femininity.  Since women are supposed to be feminine (cuz we all gotta be gender-conforming, amiright??), gay men are presented as having authority over how women should dress, act, modify our bodies, etc.  Think of the gay bff or fashionista stereotypes.*

What does this mean?

Body policing.  Comments that are not only unwanted, but are potentially incredibly harmful to our body images, self esteem, and mental health.  Touches that, if initiated by straight men, would immediately be identified as sexual harassment.  A lot of misogyny.

Not Sure I’m Following You…

I’m not gonna go into a whole spiel about how and why this happens, trying to convince you that it’s a problem.  If you’re confused or not familiar with this subject, I suggest you check out two articles:

  • Gay Men’s Sexism and Women’s Bodies” by Yolo Akili – posted last November on The Good Men Project.  I was so excited to find this.  He explains the problem well and I’m always relieved to find folks in privileged positions doing a good job educating our own.  Writing as a queer man of color, he also touches upon the added oppressive dynamic of white men feeling entitled in any way to the bodies of women of color.
  • “Why Do Gay Men Keep Touching My Boobs: The Autostraddle Mini-Roundtable” – Autostraddle writers pick up where Akili left off.  This actually turned into an incredibly interesting (and, it seemed, healing) conversation on Autostraddle.

I’m so glad to see other people discussing the problem of gay men’s sexism prominently and to find shared experiences with other queer women (see: Autostraddle’s comment section, which is mostly devoid of derailing BS posts).  Honestly, it’s something I face a lot, and I’m not always around people who get what I’m talking about.

So…What are you talking about?

  • “You need more makeup.  Here, let me do it.”  DID I ASK YOU TO GRAB MY FACE?  FUCK NO.

  • “Why are you wearing makeup?  You don’t need that.”  Umm HELLO NOT DOING IT FOR YOUR APPROVAL.  I wear makeup for myself, regardless of when you think it’s appropriate.
  • So many anti-vulva/vagina comments.  Vaginas don’t have to be your thing, but disparaging remarks are not needed.  Bodies with vaginas aren’t inherently disgusting, thank you very much, nor are we desperate for your approval.

    Gabby from Autostraddle
    : “The comments are always quintessentially linked to what my/our vaginas might smell or look like. (Sidenote- if you don’t eat it, devour it, lick it off your fingertips, then don’t even for a second make a comment on that shit. Maybe if you did then you’d have the right to say something.  Maybe then you’d describe it as tasting like fresh cantaloupe or smelling like every good secret reason you’ve been late to class this week…)”
  • “I’m totally gay, but it is kinda nice to put your penis in one [a vagina].”  Wow, thanks for reducing bodies with vaginas to just vaginas…or, as they’ll now be known: NPRs (nice penis receptacles).  Note: being told this as a queer cis woman was exceedingly awkward, among other things, because he said it as though I should be grateful that someone was–in the same sentence–telling me he was totally not attracted to me, but that my body was good for something anyway.  Great.
  • Frequent comments against queer women, especially lesbian women. “I used to be beautiful, but now I look like a lesbian!”  Note: gay men seem shocked when I call these remarks out; I’m not really sure why.  Is it because they’re reading me as straight and are surprised that I care about queer women?  Is it because they think women–femme women particularly?–are passive and won’t cross them?  Are they totally oblivious to everything?

  • At a former job, a supervisor and a coworker–both gay men–speculated loudly about what my pubic hair looks like and whether or not I trim it.  They were standing right in front of me.  They laughed.  I didn’t say anything because I was so taken aback that I didn’t have a clue what to say.  Just be cool, otherwise they’ll think I’m super uptight.  Remember, they’re gay men so they don’t really mean it in a sexual way so it’s totally fine, right???  

  • All of the comments about my boobs.  All of the comments.  I have very large breasts and gay men (among others) tell me this frequently–in varying amounts of detail–as though I didn’t know.  Thankfully, there’s usually no attempted touching, perhaps because I give off a “touch me and I’ll break your fingers” vibe.
  • Calling me babe.  At work.  The first time they meet me.  When I’ve made it clear I don’t respond to that word.  I’ll be the first to admit that I’m definitely into affectionate nicknames.  But unless we have a rapport in which we’ve established that that’s okay, just stick to my name.  For the record: babe is never okay for me.

  • A (queer guy) ex would play with my boobs in this really negatively objectifying way, like they were toys that weren’t actually connected to my body, like I didn’t have so many feelings connected to them (emotionally as well as physically).  I never found a way to tell him how much this bothered me, cuz ya know I was obviously being irrational, right?  He couldn’t be objectifying me, I mean we’re both queer and he was my intimate partner and HOLY SHIT SO MUCH BULLSHIT.
  • Calling people bitches all the time.  As a term of endearment.  As a put-down.  Just stop, okay?  Just because you’re gay doesn’t make it magically okay for you to refer to your friends/your coworkers/your cats as “all my bitchez.”  Did you miss the chapter about that actually being (potentially) really offensive, reductive, and hurtful?  See also: don’t fucking try to reclaim slurs that aren’t yours to reclaim!

What to do?

Regardless of your sexual orientation and gender identity, check yourself!  Where do you fit in these examples?  Have you experienced or witnessed any of them?  Do you perpetrate them?  Gay men: as individuals, many of you are marvelous and dear to me.  But as a group, do not assume you and I will be best friends, simply because we’re both feminine or because you’re gay.  As you might imagine (after reading all this), I’m pretty fucking wary of you.  That doesn’t mean I will bite your heads off immediately; it means I will be guarded around you until you demonstrate that you have your shit together and are aware of yourself and the space you take up.  Check yourselves and check your friends.  Deal?

* Obviously not all gay men are feminine or into fashion.  Yes, those are stereotypes and yes, stereotypes are confining and need to be broken down.  That’s another (related) conversation.  If you post comments about being a gay man who’s not obsessed with fashion, you might be completely truthful, but you’re not being helpful.  You’re derailing the conversation.  You don’t suddenly become not oppressive just because you break stereotypes.

** I clearly wrote this from my perspective as a femme queer woman.  I can’t speak for masculine-of-center women and non-binary folks, but my perception is that there’s a different sort of bullshit that goes down there, more in the vein of “why would you be a woman (or a person ever perceived to be a woman) and be masculine?  You’re wasting your femininity (cuz women are inherently feminine, right??).”  Ughhh so many problems.  I have all of the love for butches, masc-of-center, and gender non-conforming folks.  Y’all are beautiful, handsome, and endlessly snazzy.  Here is my adorable face, just for you:

Being Visibly Queer: When Every Day is Coming Out Day

Okay, y’all: I’m gonna do something new.  I’ve never used National Coming Out Day as a vehicle for coming out before.  I tend to be pretty out in my life all the time, so while I appreciate this day (which happens to be today) for raising awareness of and prompting conversations about gender and sexual minorities, I haven’t personally observed it differently from any other day.  I had no plans to do anything special to mark today.  Then a conversation with Pandaqueer changed my mind.

If anyone is unclear about who Pandaqueer is, just know that he’s fabulous.  We discussed recent conversations he’d had about femmephobia as it is incorporated into notions of “visible queerness.”  Not sure what I’m talking about?  When searching for a queer community or queer friends, to whom do you look?  What signs tip you off?  What does it mean when you describe someone as “looking so gay”?

If your visions of queer people are exclusively

  • thin, white, feminine men
  • non-binary folks whose genders you can’t “figure out”
  • androgynous and masculine women with “alternative lifestyle haircuts”

THEN YOU NEED TO FUCKING CHECK YOURSELF.  Wake up and open your eyes.

Who gives me a hard time about coming out?

I feel way more pressure to come out and to defend my gender and sexual orientation around queer people than around straight ones.  Non-homophobic straight peeps might not immediately read me as queer, but if/when I tell them, they usually just accept it without interrogating me.  This is probably due in part to their unfamiliarity with the nuances of gender presentation and identity labels within LGBTQ+ communities.  That figures.  At least I don’t need to defend myself at length (we’re not going into homophobic douchebags here).

Queer people are a totally different story.  Now, LGBTQ+ communities are many and varied, so these problems don’t occur in the same way across the board.  I’m speaking directly from my experiences in queer communities I’ve lived in and visited.

I’m speaking about queer communities that prioritize masculinity over femininity–that value studs, butches, androgynous folks, and masculine trans* people, over femmes.  I mean queer organizations in which masc-of-center folks are viewed as the best leaders, the most transgressive, powerful, and brave, the ones who really put themselves out there.  These are the groups in which I have to prove my queerness again and again.

  • If I talk to you for an hour about queer theory, will you take me seriously?
  • If my relationships look queer to you, will you understand that I’m not confused?
  • If I plan LGBTQ+ community events, will you get that I’m here to stay?
  • If I explain myself and my choices to you constantly, will you accept that I didn’t put on heels and lipgloss accidentally?
  • If I write enough of these blog posts, will you see that I’m not helpless or unaware of patriarchal oppression?
  • If I teach you the word femmephobia, will you recognize your own behavior?

Let me be clear: there are some amazing, transgressive, powerful, brave masc-of-center queer folks and they should be celebrated.  Gender non-conforming queer people (such as non-binary folks and masc-of-center women) face different challenges than those of us who are gender conforming (or perceived to be).  The problem is when the attention paid to them eclipses everyone else.  This happens particularly in the case of feminine-of-center and femme people.  (That I feel I have to justify writing about femmes and explain that I haven’t forgotten about masculine queer people is indicative of the problem.)

If you think “queer” and never think femme, that’s a problem.  Retrain your brain.  If you think “queer” and every image that appears in your brain looks the same (think race, gender presentation, age, ability, body type, class, nationality), check yourself.  Interrogate your assumptions.

Okay, Here We Go:

My name is Tamar and I am a pansexual, femme, cisgender woman.  I am not “hiding” in femme.  I’m here and I’m visible every day.  If you don’t see me, that your problem.

Phew–now that that’s out of the way, have a lovely video.

I Am Not Overreacting. I Am Not Uptight. I Am Not Kidding.

TW: street harassment

Yesterday something amazing was proven.  Y’all ready for this?  It’s groundbreaking.  *Drum roll*  It is possible to compliment someone–a stranger–on their appearance without scaring them.  Compliments without massive power plays–wow.  As I was going into work yesterday, a man passed me on the street.

Man 1: I like your outfit.

Me: Thanks!

Then we both kept walking.  This interaction was not creepy, aggressive, or terror-inducing.  It did not make me reach for my keys or rush into work and slam the door shut behind me.  We’re certainly not obligated to want compliments or be open to receiving them, but overall Man 1’s approach was pretty low-risk.  I appreciated the compliment and continued on with my day, looking fly.

The Much More Common Alternative

After an awesome day at work (dear god, I wish that were more firmly rooted in my memory than the rest of this shit), I headed to the train to go to an artsy networking event further downtown.  While walking to the train, I saw a group of five men–all in their 60s–standing on the sidewalk together.  As I neared them, one of them came up to me, moving progressively closer to the point of nearly pushing me into the buildings.  I was on the phone with a friend and trying to ignore the man walking with/on me, while his posse stared me down.  I sped up and so did he.  Then he pulled out the same old line that is thrown at women all the fucking time: “Smile!  Hey, smile!”  He said it five times, with increasing aggression.  He kept pushing and his buddies kept staring.

This is when the diatribe that is constantly playing inside my head actually came out of my mouth.  Pulling ahead, I spun around and yelled “NO!  I SMILE FOR MYSELF!  I DO NOT SMILE ON COMMAND!!”

They all stared, taken aback.  I hurried away.  A second later, a voice in my ear asked “Did someone just tell you to smile?”  Having momentarily forgotten about my phone conversation, I’d clearly just yelled in my friend’s ear as well as at five men on the street.  Whoops–that part was unintentional.

It wasn’t until I reached the train platform (a block later) that I realized I was shaking and freaking out. “Holy shit,” I thought to myself. “I just yelled at five men for harassing me.  Finally.  I’m glad I did, but that was scary.”

“WTF?  That’s so sketchy.  Who does that?”

To anyone reading this and thinking, “Wow, that’s so messed up.  You must’ve been in a ‘bad neighborhood’ or have really bad luck”: NO.  CHECK YOURSELF.  This stuff happens all the time, everywhere.  If you’re unaware of it, you’re in a position of extreme privilege.  I’ve had literally this same encounter–let’s call it the “smile bullshit”–at least four times in the past two weeks (minus the attempt to push me into a wall–that took things a big step further).

What type of man would do that?

All kinds.  Our society trains us all to believe that men deserve access to women’s bodies.  Do all men buy into that?  No.  Some boys and young men are raised around wonderful people who adamantly reject this notion.  Others work hard to unlearn it.  But still, there are zillions of men all over the place who believe this–consciously or not–to varying degrees.

I’ve noticed an awkward dichotomy in the way our society views older men.  Either:

  • a) they’re automatically assumed to be perverts and merit extra suspicion, or
  • b) when they’re actually predatory, their actions are justified to no end. “Oh don’t worry about him–he’s just set in his ways.  He doesn’t know what he’s doing.  Generational differences, blah, blah, blah.  He doesn’t mean anything by it; it’s harmless.”  FUCK THAT.  YES, IT’S MEANT TO BE AGGRESSIVE AND NO IT’S NOT HARMLESS.

Why does this happen?

Because patriarchy.  (Isn’t that the answer to so many things?)  Women and girls are always supposed to smile, appease, and be visually appealing and available to men.  Especially if you are feminine, in which case you should acquiesce passively at all times.  Great system, right?  *Gags*  This shows up in childhood when kids are told “Give a kiss to that relative you’re uncomfortable around.  He’s your [insert familial relationship here] and he’ll be sad if you don’t.”  It shows up from pre-teenager-dom onward when men catcall, yell at, make demands of, and physically grope and grab at gender minorities on the street, in our workplaces, in stores, in relaxation spaces, on the beach, at the everywhere in the world.

This is not to say that men never experience street harassment or that perpetrators are always men.  There are many targeted identities and many factors that could lead to someone being harassed.  However, in the vast majority of these cases, men are the harassers and people perceived to be men are safer on the streets.**  Because many men never experience street harassment (and other types of “casual” attacks), they’re often totally unaware of its existence and prevalence.  There are two groups of out-to-lunch people here:

  • The willfully ignorant: men who’ve been told by women in their lives about these incidents, but refuse to believe them and try to invalidate their experiences. “You’re overreacting.” “That’s never happened to me, therefore it can’t be true.” “Jeeze, can’t you just take a compliment?”  These men are tacitly endorsing harassment.  They’re assholes and I have no time for them.
  • The unenlightened: some guys have literally no idea that this shit happens.  They’re not trying to support patriarchal attacks, but they’ve never given them any thought.  I start telling stories like this and they’re actually blown away when I tell them that–even in my most relaxed state–I live with a constant baseline of fear.  I don’t let fear govern my life and curtail all my actions, but it’s always there.

Then there are the guys who are aware, look out for these situations, and call them out.  I appreciate those guys and I feel safer around them.  Yet this post is not about them and they do not deserve magical ally cookies just for being decent human beings.

It is never the responsibility of oppressed groups to educate privileged groups.  No one is obligated to do this, but I do believe it’s valuable to speak out if and when we want to, so that some of this inadvertent ignorance decreases.

Aftermath of Shitty Encounters

Beyond all of the bullshit already described, the thing that really makes me angry is how these comments–tossed out at no expense to the harasser–have the power to ruin my day.  Ya know what I mean?  I had an awesome day at work, after which I texted several friends and my mom about how excited I was to have met all these amazing artists.  I accepted an awesome opportunity, bonded with people over sequins, and was feeling on top of the world.  Then, the unwanted actions of five strangers threw my mood from euphoric to scared and wanting to curl up in a ball in bed.  I spent the train ride down to my evening event talking myself out of that and willing myself not to let those guys ruin my night.  Fortunately, I ended up meeting some great people and I’m glad I went.  Still, I hate that this bullshit happened last night, that it impacted me enough that I’m still preoccupied with it today, and that it happens all the time.

Attention, Chicago residents: I am sick of this.  You come near me in a potentially threatening manner and biting your head off is the very least I will do.  Stay the fuck away.

**I am referring specifically to this type of catcalling “smile for me, baby” street harassment, which is usually directed at women and feminine-presenting folks.  That is not the same as racial profiling, trans*phobic attacks, etc. and should not be equated to those.

Can We Get Some More Gender-Aware People in Publishing?

Attention, world: Saturday was a “Do not mess with me today, I will cut you [viciously with my eyes and words]” day.  I mean, that’s my normal state, but this weekend the danger level was raised to code orange.  You have been warned.

Part 1: Looking for Trouble

Saturday was filled with all manner of fuckery, including the fact that my spellcheck (as I learned) did not recognize “fuckery” as a word.  Now it does.  Phew.  I woke up early and decided to read a book that has been on my list for a while, but I’ve never touched: Ariel Levy’s Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture.  I’d read excerpts, seen quotes bandied about on blogs, but hadn’t read the whole thing.  Now, I’d heard that the book contained problematic claims and a lot of trans*phobia, but I firmly believe in reading things first-hand before being able to properly refute them.  Opening the book, I saw that chapter four was titled “From Womyn to Bois.”

Me in my head: “This is bound to be a disaster.  Might as well jump in!”

TW: trans*phobia, femmephobia, and assorted patriarchal bullshit

Levy’s thesis is that lesbian women–no discussion of gradations of queer here–who either:

  • are somewhat gender-fluid
  • are immature
  • have/desire sex frequently (holy shit so much slut-shaming)
  • objectify other queer women (especially feminine-of-center ones)
  • want to be men (whatever that means)

identify as bois and see this as a way to eternally extend their teenage-dom.  Some trans* men also fall into this category, she says.  FYI: trans* men are not “real boys” unless Levy perceives them to be cis while walking through a park.  Okay, good to know.  WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE ON?  This chapter is littered with trans*phobic slurs; she asserts that t****y is the word of choice used by members of the trans* community to describe themselves.  Never mind the fact that she’s interviewing FAAB bois and trans* men, not trans* women (who are actually the ones historically targeted by that slur).

Phase A: Who on earth published this?

Reading this chapter, I became predictably enraged.  Levy glosses all bois as ignorant jerks who refuse to take responsibility for their lives, puts gender binary in scare quotes (cuz, ya know, that’s not a real institution to interrogate or anything), and basically every point she tries to make becomes a shit show.  Obviously, I want Levy to take responsibility for her words and the harm that they’ve done.  She’s perpetuating dangerous ideas and people cite her works as expert opinions.  But I also couldn’t help thinking “Who published this shit?”

Me in my head: “She actually sent this manuscript to a publisher and nobody said ‘Hey, how bout you don’t spew trans*phobia everywhere?’…no ‘This all seems really biased.  Are you sure you understand the complexity of these communities and are researching several perspectives?’…no ‘Did you listen to more than one token POC voice?’…no ‘This is a perfect example of terrible ethnography and journalism'”???

In a plot twist predictable fail move, Levy characterizes black queer women in general as butch, by virtue of providing no other examples.  Seriously?  That again?

My Phase A reaction was characterized by anger at how simplistically Levy glossed communities that I care deeply about and am connected to.  I  desperately want bois and trans* guys not to be seen this way.  Are there immature bois and trans* folks who perpetuate patriarchal norms?  Sure.  Are there immatures jerks across all segments of the population who do this?  Absolutely.

Phase B: Oh no, there are queer people who believe this shit!

Midway through the chapter, incredible sadness and anger at the interviewees overtook my anger at Levy.  Levy repeatedly quotes various bois speaking derisively about femmes, feminine-of-center women, butches–the list goes on.  Femmes are labeled “air”: substance-less, clingy, needy, subservient, there to please and then be discarded by bois.  Hey there, repackaged patriarchy!

Levy certainly shouldn’t have glossed all masculine-of-center FAAB communities as monolithic, based on these few examples.  It’s like she explicitly sought out the douchiest bois and then asked them to regale her specifically with tales of their douchebaggery.  However, her interviewees do exist and their femmephobia is real.  Despite my earlier urge to protect these segments of the queer community, I was left wondering “At what point can I no longer fight for them?  At what point is their behavior inexcusable?”**

Part 2: Books Lead to Great Experiences

Later in the day, I tore myself away from the joys of Female Chauvinist Pigs and went to the library.  I was greeted by a large sign informing me that Naomi Wolf will be there in a couple weeks to speak about her new book Vagina.  Vagina is the latest iteration of “woman = vagina,” centering whiteness, and cultural appropriation.  So y’all can guess how I feel about that.

Browsing in search of a book, I saw an older man walking between two shelves, staring at me.  Only vaguely paying attention, I glanced up, smiled weakly and said hi.

Strange man: “Aw I love that smile darlin’.  Hey gorgeous!  Smile for me like that more often!”

Me: (staring after him) “No.”

Me in my head: “No!  I smile for myself.  I DO NOT SMILE ON COMMAND.”

It was then that I realized that I’d seen this very same guy around town before, and he’d greeted me exactly the same way then.  Terrific.

Leaving the obnoxiously typical man, I headed up to the young adult section to find a book that had been recommended to me by a friend.  Apparently, since it’s a graphic novel, it’s classified as young adult.  Hmmm.  All the YA books in my local library are kept in a particular room that’s meant for teens and has a special lounge space for them.  Pretty sure people who aren’t age 13-18 aren’t supposed to hang out there, but we can…ya know…check out books.

I’m not sure what the deal is with the librarian who works in the YA section.  Every time I’ve seen her, she’s been grumpy/antisocial.  Maybe she had a whole lot on her mind or maybe she’s not great interpersonally–I have no idea.  Regardless, the moment I walked in, she looked me slowly up and down, scrutinized my hemline, grimaced, and said a brief hi.

Me in my head: “What did I do?  I’M WEARING A FUCKING SWEATER DRESS, how risqué could I be?

Super confused.  Whatever, I looked fuckin’ fabulous.  They didn’t even have the book that I wanted, so I peaced out.  On the way home with my brother, I recounted these events.  He was incredibly upset on behalf, especially about “smile for me” guy.

My bro: “I don’t always punch old men in the face, but when I do, it’s because they’re assholes to my sister.  Stay angry, my friends.”

My bro wins.  We had a long conversation about the smile comment and about dealing with street harassment.  This is the zillionth example that confirms my belief that it’s so important to speak out about these issues (if and when we are able), especially to people who don’t see or experience them, especially when those people are like my brother: straight, white, cisgender teenage guys.  Gotta train ’em to see the shit that won’t be hurled directly at them, yet happens all around them.

Part 3: I Have No Time for Assholes

The day significantly improved in the evening, when I went to visit a good friend.  Having spent the L ride downtown scribbling furiously in my copy of Female Chauvinist Pigs (huge capitalized “NO”s and “STFU”s abounded), I was looking forward to chilling out in a thoroughly non-patriarchal atmosphere (as much as that is possible).  As I crossed a large intersection to meet her, a car sped by, honking profusely.  I turned to see strange guy #2–barely older than me and in a beat-up truck–staring out of the window, leering at me.

Without pausing, I flipped him off and kept walking.  He looked shocked shocked and horrified at my reaction.  I wish I had a picture of his face.  Too fucking funny.

Me: 

Success.  Then I waltzed off into the night with my friend and headed to her apartment for yummy food and wine.

** The answer, of course, is that this shit is never okay.  I love bois (and others) who are not femmephobic jerks.  Then again, I think all kinds of non-jerk people are great, ‘nough said.

Why We Can’t Have All of the Cookies

Today we’re talking about allyship.  Wait.  That’s not totally it—we’re actually talking about the easiest ways to be a huge tool.  This is in fact a list of horrifyingly common pitfalls to avoid.  TW: mentions sexual assault and misgendering

“Let Me Tell You What a Good Ally I Am!”

If a corner stone of your allyship involves trying to show off what a good ally you are, you’re doing it wrong.  Anything that vaguely resembles “I have a friend who is ___, therefore I’m super accepting” is a bad idea.  We do not deserve cookies and gold stars just for being decent human beings and not being overtly hateful.

  • My friend so-and-so, who’s Latina, says blah, blah, blah.
  • So-and-so’s brother Jason—well, she used to be Jason when she was a boy…now she’s Jackie…
  • My gay best friend and I…
  • I’ve known so-and-so since before zie had [insert medical history here].
  • Then she dropped out of school because no one would talk to her, and she came back in the fall for high school, all of her hair was cut off and she was totally weird, and now I guess she’s on crack.

Any of these sound familiar?  I know I’ve heard them.  Before speaking, ask yourself a couple of questions:

  1. Would the person I’m speaking of want me to share this information?
  2. Does the person to whom I’m speaking need to know this?

If the answer to either is no, congratulations, this would be a great time to shut up.  Even if you think the people you’re speaking to and about will never meet, there’s still no excuse.  Stick to info that’s relevant to the conversation and that you know may be shared.

I’ve had conversations in which I’ve straight up said to people “Why are you telling me this?  This is absolutely none of my business.”  Usually, they were telling me these incredibly personal stories about people I’d never met (or could’ve met–they don’t know that) in an effort to show how diverse their friend group was, how many types of people they accepted, etc.  No.  Just stop.  You do not get the Non-Bigot of the Year award.  Instead, you get some serious stank eye for outing and/or tokenizing your friend, as well as a demerit for spreading about their personal business.

Throwing Your Privilege in Other People’s Faces

Privileged folks: we need to stop inserting our voices and opinions where they do not belong.  Like now already.  If there is a conversation taking place between members of marginalized group about oppression, you do not look extra sensitive by jumping in and adding your two cents.  In fact, you look like a huge douchebag.  Because, in that situation, you are.  Unless specifically asked, you do not need to add a white perspective, a cisgender perspective, a neuro-typical perspective.  Privileged perspectives are ubiquitous—I can guarantee no one has forgotten about them.  By (unwelcomely) entering a discussion about misogyny with “From a man’s perspective…” you are not enlightening anyone; you are silencing the group.  If you are asked to give an opinion, cool.  If not, stay quiet and listen to what it’s like not hearing your views presented front and center.

Pansexuals, Pansexuals Everywhere! We’re Taking Over!

Texas State Rep. Mary Gonzalez, a recently elected Democrat from El Paso, has just come out as pansexual.  HELLO TO THE FIRST OPENLY PAN ELECTED OFFICIAL IN THE USA!!!

HuffPo states that Gonzalez came out as bisexual when she was 21 years old, but later felt that this label didn’t fit:

“As I started to recognize the gender spectrum and dated along the gender spectrum, I was searching for words that connected to that reality, for words that embraced the spectrum. At the time I didn’t feel as if the term bisexual was encompassing of a gender spectrum that I was dating and attracted to.”

Feministing adds that Rep. Gonzalez initially was out as queer while campaigning for her State Rep seat, but the poor old news media didn’t know what to do with that information, so she stuck with the term gay (to which the media responded by calling her lesbian).

“During the campaign if I had identified as pansexual, I would have overwhelmed everyone,” she said.  “Now that I’m out of the campaign, I’m completely much more able to define it.”

HOLY SHIT.  Can we all just stop for a minute and realize that a politician just spoke openly and articulately about pansexuality?  She’s not dumbing it down and giving a news bite definition that rests at the lowest common denominator of understanding.  She’s actually discussing dating and/or being attracted to women, men, genderqueer people, and trans* people like they’re normal, acceptable parts of life…cuz, ya know, they are.  (Surprise!)  Also, mad props to her for raising the profile of queer Latinas and uncompromisingly being herself.  In case anyone is missing how big a deal this is, here’s a blow-by-blow of my response.

Me: Sees article on Facebook.  Headline = “Mary Gonzalez will be the first out pansexual legislator in the US”

Me in my head:  Oh my god.  Oh.  My.  God.  Oh my god oh my god oh my god.  I have to tell Pandaqueer!

(FYI Pandaqueer = one of the loves of my life, with whom I’ve had many a great gendery spiel.)

PQ: WHAT?!  PANSEXUAL REPRESENT?!

Me: HELL YEAH MUTHAFUCKAS!!!

Me: I AM HANDLING THIS MATURELY

PQ: YES.  OH MY GOD IT’S EXCITING.  I NEED TO MAKE US MATCHING PANSEXUAL FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS.

Me: YES AND WE WILL SEND HER ONE, ALONG WITH A LETTER PROFESSING MY UNDYING LOVE AND ADMIRATION.

PQ: MINE TOO PLEASE.

And then I devolved into an unintelligible mess because I had too many blog post ideas all at once.

In case this is not explanation enough, I will try to be serious for a moment.  I’ve often joked with my friends that I never expect to see anyone I identify with (especially in regard to views on gender/sexual orientation/politics) on TV or in the mainstream media and that if I do, I’ll assume something’s gravely wrong.  Let’s suspend reality for a sec and imagine me going into politics.  I’ve never been able to envision myself running for office and being totally open about my sexual orientation because, of course, that would necessitate explaining non-binary genders and assigned sexes and gender fluidity.  We all know that addressing those amid conversations of “American family values” would get me slapped with the “off-the-charts liberal nut job” sticker (which, let’s be real, is incredibly accurate).  Those terms would also be deemed too complicated for the public to understand and I would be pressured to “simplify” my identity and fit into a box that people are already familiar with, but to which I would have no connection.  Cue my endless frustration.

Bottom line: the notion that a political figure would actually use the word pansexual any time this decade–let alone 4 days ago–is stunning to me.  I will certainly write her that letter of love and admiration.

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