I think anger is a very interesting idea, especially when framed by the gay (or rather queer) community. As “Queers read this: I hate Straights” demonstrated queers have a lot to be angry about, in the past and now. There is, of course, how medical professionals treated AIDS victims, and how transgender people are treated today. And as class demonstrated on Wednesday, there is the issue of silencing. Silencing, to me, continues to be a huge problem today, and one that this manifesto really helped me to articulate. I thought that these anonymous authors really brought up some interesting and subtle points about how straight people respond to queer anger, and I thought it was fascinating that, 10+ years later, I, a lesbian who’s only been out for 2 years (though it sometimes feels much longer), has already heard nearly every single ‘straight’ silencing line that they mentioned. It is amazing to me how most majorities can simply refuse to listen to the minorities, or perhaps, it is not amazing to me that most majorities can do this, but that most majority individuals who claim to be allies can and do continually silence their minority friends—often without realizing it. Furthermore, this silencing most often, at least in my life, occurs during times of anger, and sends the message that queer anger is unacceptable.
What is particularly interesting, I think, is the way that queer people do this to each other. My experience of queer people my age, which is unfortunately fairly limited to Carleton, is that we are very intellectual and critical. There is not a queer movement, past or present, that my queer peers don’t have some sort of take on, often negative. There seems to be this way in which we are constantly striving for some version of perfect and constantly discounting anything less than, instead of accepting different versions for what they are. Even just within the conversations of our class, I think we have a tendency not just to try and categorize movements and theories, but to actually place judgment on them, as if we know what is better or worse. When speaking about current issues, I think these judgments are particularly silencing, and I think that often the impotence behind it is some sort of belief that anger will not move the queer community forward, will not get us the right to marry. Perhaps, once queer people begin to take the time to listen to one another, we can set an appropriate model for straight people, and the power of multiple viewpoints will add a much needed push in the right direction.

All Inclusive SEX

I have been very fascinated by our conversations this week in class, perhaps, particularly because I have worked a lot on sex positivity at the Gender and Sexuality here. Our philosophy at the GSC is that if more people start feeling more comfortable being in their bodies as sexual beings, if they are able to talk about their desires and fantasies, if they can voice those ‘taboo’ thoughts, sexual violence, or at least the type of sexual violence we see at Carleton most often, will cease. However, over the past year of working on ending sexual violence by continually talking about sex, I’ve come to realize that sex is one of the most heterocentrist topics that I’ve come across. Even among people who claim to be great allies, they really can’t get past the penis-vagina image of sex. Which makes me think that a sexual revolution is just what we need. In many ways, that one guy from Stonewall was right: being gay isn’t just about the sex. But, then again, I would venture to say that a lot of homophobia is. It’s about a man doing to another man what he should only do to a woman, or a woman getting something from another woman that she should only be able to get from a man. So, yes, it’s about gender and gender roles, it’s about power and powerlessness, but it’s also about the sex. So, I say bring on the sex radicals, bring on the sexual revolution.
Although I can’t claim that making sex more inclusive will end homophobia or normalize homosexuality, I do think normalizing other definitions of sex, or at least ending our society’s obsession with vaginal intercourse as the end-all be-all of sexual relations. Luckily, there are a few people working towards this end as well. The presentation we had last year, “I love the female orgasm” by a couple of ‘sex connoisseurs’ not only empowered women, but also helped to expand the definition of sex. Similarly, sex toy shops like the Smitten Kitten in Minneapolis, or Good Vibrations in San Francisco and Berkeley, serve both women and men with the express purpose of empowering people as sexual beings. And we at the GSC are doing our part by sponsoring Sex Toys 101, a presentation on sex toys presented by the Smitten Kitten, at least every year (shameless plug: Tuesday, October 23rd, at 8 in WA House (Berg House)).
It is my conviction that once we begin to view sex—all types of sex—as normal and healthy, the world will be a much better place.

My First Experience with HIV/AIDS

The very first time I remember being encountered with AIDS was in the early-mid 90’s. I think I must have been somewhere between 7 and 10 when one of my mom’s former students stopped by. My mom invited him in for tea, and then lunch, and all I remember of the conversation is being somewhat by whatever they were talking about, but also intrigued by this enigmatic, flamboyant young man at our table. And I remember being shocked when he finally left, and my mom just started crying and took his plate, his tea cup, and his utensils, and threw them in the garbage.
Now, my mom is both a diehard hippy and has a persistent love of learning. I know now that she didn’t actually think that her family could contract HIV/AIDS from Sampson’s plate, or cup, or fork, but in that moment the terror was just too great, the risk, though small, just wasn’t worth taking. At the time, I remember asking my mom why she was throwing these things out, and I also remember her explaining, through her tears, about HIV/AIDS, how it could be contracted (and how it was unlikely that it could contracted from a plate), and how deathly it was, and how much she didn’t want me to even have the smallest risk of contracting (although I was very lucky that at this time my mom told me to use protection when I would finally have sex, instead of just telling me not have sex at all).
Once again, I must apologize for the lack of academia so far in this post, but I do think this story has some academic clout because it really speaks to that intense fear of death, that emotional side of HIV/AIDS that is so so powerful. Of course, cancer has its own emotional baggage, but not, as we talked about in class, the same stigma, and certainly not the same fear of infection. Its telling to me that my mother, a woman who I respect and emulate above all others, a woman with a masters degree from the University of San Francisco, can still be so illogical as to contradict the facts she knows and throw away a plate. In most ways, I think Justin really spoke what I’ve also been feeling in reading about the HIV/AIDS crisis: I just can’t get it. It was such a profound moment of loss, and it was dealt with in such a insulting and demeaning way. And that loss and that insult are so hard to come to grips with when viewed from my simultaneously innocent and knowledgeable perspective.
Today Sampson still visits us at our house—I’ve probably seen him 3 or 4 times since that first time. However, he’s never stayed for lunch again, and I have no idea what my mom would do with the plate she fed him on. In many ways, I think she might do the exact same thing she did 10 years ago, and as much as I know its wrong, I don’t know that I would try to stop her.

Its an Individual Thing

Considering the topic of my last blog, I though our class discussion on Monday concerning the “acceptance vs. respect” dialogue, and whether or not it is still persistent today was quite interesting. Although some of the class made eloquent points about how they believe this debate is over, it seemed that if some of the class (and thus a portion, though small, of the gay community) believes that it is still persistent, then it is still persistent. Although, today’s organizations seem to have found more of a balance by which they are not constantly bickering, these issues of acceptance and respect, or celebration and normalization, are still issues for many people.
The trend in national organizations today (see OutProud at http://www.outproud.org/ and The Human Rights Campaign at http://www.hrc.org/issues/coming_out.asp for examples) is to encourage and support coming out, in a way that was definitely not acceptable in Mattachine and the other lesbian and gay organizations during the 40’s, 50’s, 60’ and 70’s (and I think the 80’s too, but we haven’t started that reading yet). And even though I don’t know of any organizations that suggest that LGBT people shouldn’t come out, or should try to assimilate more effectively, I still think that are many individuals of LGBT identity who do believe that and live their lives to that effect, which means to me that the debate continues. I think that the most common way for LGBT people to show their ‘assimilist’ views is to be completely unconnected the queer community, to steer away from activism, pride banquets, and anything that has clearly visible gay connections, or at least that’s the assimilationist attitude that I’ve seen at Carleton. Ultimately, I think both sides has merits, that we should strive for both acceptance and respect, that its counter-productive to split apart the gay community with two nouns we should all be working towards. And I believe the same is true for celebrating and normalizing. In our community, in every community, there are moments for celebrating, moments for normalizing, moments for acceptance, and moments for respect. Today, its just a matter of figuring out which is which.