Identity is not an opinion

This is an example of an opinion I disagree with. I can post this without agreeing with it.
This post is not about opinions I disagree with, though.

Another person's identity is not something you get an "opinion" on. Yesterday I was chatting on facebook with an acquaintance* I've known for about 15 years but have rarely spoken with. He made an extremely trans-hating comment, so I asked for clarification. I mean, there's no way I could have heard it correctly. I mean, we met at a Pagan festival where he sold me a $15 Bid pen and gave me a free bottle of mead with it. He must be open minded, right? Yes, I know, overly positive and hopeful statement. Blah. Anyway, at my request for further elucidation, Magpie* reiterated his transphobia and called it "just his opinion." He repeated that statement several times and with smiley face emoticons said he hoped I wouldn't think badly of him for his “opinion."

Consent Tastes Like Entenmann's!

So apparently some people think consent talk ruins the mood. These are obviously folks that I don't get down and funky with. Of course, consent talk can definitely be done with a throaty voice whispering, "May I kiss you?" in your ear, but sometimes it requires a bit more finesse. There might be topics involved that require more of an ability to think clearly and not be distracted, and lets face it, even when consent conversations take place in a non-sexual environment where you aren't touching or talking dirty, consent conversations rock - no whispering or dirty talk required!  

Sit or Stand

Ages ago I started a Livejournal account where I rated bathrooms at different establishments I visited. I gave it up years ago because I was, apparently, the only person interested in how different bathrooms in Tucson, Arizona, rated on my scale (based on cleanliness, size of the area, whether or not you had your own private bathroom with your own sink, how good the locks were, etc.).

Nowadays, though, the bathroom ratings would have to include who was allowed to pee where. You know what? I don't really care. The toilet debate is dumb. I don't care what your plumbing is, I'm certainly not going to stop and do a visual inspection on each person who's entering a public restroom, and considering that the trans person is more likely to be hurt by a stranger in public than the cis-gendered person, I think the people who should get the most say in this debate are trans folks.

Waves of Feminism

I was introduced to the third wave of feminism in the early-to-mid 90s. I define feminism as the advocacy of equal rights and opportunities for everybody; regardless of sex, gender, race, ethnicity, religious background, sexual orientation, body size or type, economics, age, family status, and physical or intellectual abilities, through political, social, personal, educational, and economic means.

First Wave Feminism, it takes money to get matching white dresses.

First wave feminism was the women's suffragist movement, a lot of which focused on getting the vote (think Margaret Sanger as well as the Pankhursts) but also focused on economics and sexuality. A large subsection of the suffragette movement was made up of middle to upper class women: Women who had the time to make matching sashes, the money to get pretty white dresses, and the education to write up and distribute flyers.

Second wave feminism is what many people think of when they think of the women's rights movement- the 1960s, the hippy movement, the push for equality with economics and culture and free love. However, it was still organized in the US by mainly white women. The equal rights movements had a decently sized divide among color lines, even as whites went down south to march for black rights, there was a distinction. While there was discussion of all races, there was a large push from middle to upper class women in the movement. There's also been rewriting of history that shows us a focus on these women in much the same way the new Stonewall movie is "forgetting" that Drag Queens and people of color were so heavily involved in that historical time.

Ok, so this picture is from a third wave of coffee site -
who knew there was a third wave of coffee?

Third wave feminism was made possible by the previous two "waves" and all the people who worked so hard!  I don't remember if we used the term third wave feminism when I first started learning about it in the 1990s, but I know that by the end of the 1990s it was becoming a common place term. I was pretty confused because I tended to think of the 1960s equal rights as being both women's rights and racial equality, so I didn't understand the differences. Looking back, I can see it more clearly. So much of feminism had been defined in the past through the lens of middle and upper class white women.

So, for me, the lead-up to the third wave of feminism was about opening up and realizing the need for discussion amongst people from a variety of walks of life. A funny current example of where this third wave of feminism has brought us is that most of the people I find interesting on OK Cupid have a note on their profile that says something along the lines of, "If the majority of books on your favorites list are by white men, I'll look askance, and we might not get along."

That is where I am and have been since the 1990s. Oh, my ideas and opinions have changed and grown as I've learned more and seen more of the world, but my basic ideology of equality has remained the same. I still see the fundamental problem as -isms (racism, sexism, ageism, etc.). They are all interconnected and will remain an issue as long as our society is focused on hierarchy. It's a ladder with everybody on it, and if we're going to be higher up the ladder, we have to put people below us.

A great example of one of my own hierarchical prejudices is that I have a college degree and often find myself thinking that someone else should have worked harder to get one. This is most likely to occur when somebody says something about how "it must be nice to have so much money," gets angry at me for expecting hot water always be available in my apartment, or sends me a resume for a writing job when they can't even put a decent sentence together on a document that represents their professional abilities when trying to get a job that will involve them putting together other people's resumes.

This is a real issue that I still fight against. especially as more and more discussions happen about why expecting good grammar is classist. I've reconciled it with the fact that I do need basic grammar to enjoy a good conversation, but it certainly doesn't have to be perfect. Clarity is important, and lack of punctuation, for example, makes it very difficult for me to follow someone's train of thought. However, my work grammar is very different from my home grammar, and my blog is often filled with grammatical errors and typos. At work, if I'm reviewing someone's sample documents for a writing job I definitely expect a higher level of expertise and will look down on someone who's applying for a writing job without actually having any discernible writing abilities.

I also have to fight against other ingrained beliefs in this hierarchical system. It took me years to be comfortable around people who grew up with more money than I did. I resented their "easy" lives and bizarre ideas that high school kids shouldn't work because their job is school. I still get antsy when  people talk about how parents are "supposed" to pay for their kids to go to college and that their parents gave them $30,000 for their wedding or their grandmother took the entire extended family for a two week vacation in Europe. I become so jealous that I start looking down on them for taking advantage of what they have had all their lives and I boost myself up by telling myself that I'm better because I worked hard for what I have even if I am still paying off my college degree and can't afford to go on fancy vacations because nobody handed it to me. Blah blah blah, American dream, pulled myself up by my boot straps, yaddi yaddi yadda.

The fact is that I'm not better than any of those people. I have learned to expect certain privileges, and I have had a lot of luck in my life. I had parents who sure weren't perfect but who always, without fail, loved me. They didn't haver college diplomas, but they defined me through academic achievements. That wasn't always for the best; I still shy away from academic failure and even internet tests make me sweat if I can't get the right answer to who composed the Buffy theme song. Overall, though, it allowed me to become who I am and, apparently, to look down on folks who didn't have the same opportunities I did.

Yet I still find ways to be shocked at how some other people would apply feminism. Did you know that there is literally a Feminist Nazi movement?  I'm not talking about Rush Limbaugh's Feminazi crazy. I'm talking about female white supremacists who believe in equal rights for white women and all white people being "better" than anybody else. Needless to say, this is certainly not third wave feminism or any wave of real feminism. This is a prejudicial pile of of epic proportions. You can read about it in Lindsey Shrupp's essay "We Found Some Actual Feminazis - as in Feminist Nazis."

I don't know where feminism is going, but I know that feminist nazis aren't it. There are too many awesome people out there for us to let that happen. I am thrilled with the fourth wave of feminism and surprised that they're using the word "feminist" to define it. I'm glad that they are because the word has such a long and rich history, even though "fem" is such a small part of what we are really discussing when we think about feminism. I love the technological angle and the focus of individual self-definition, as opposed to allowing external definitions to be who we are (which was still present in the third wave of feminism and is still visible now). I also understand that the labeling of waves is in and of itself confusing. This falls under "your ideology is not my feminism, and your ideology is socially oppressive and not free from criticism."*

In the 1990s, I couldn't have imagined the current alphabet soup of terminologies (GLBTQPAI...) or how trans rights would change our ways of viewing the world and defining ourselves. With individual definitions and a strengths based approach, we are viewing people as survivors, as strong, as able to make their own decisions. Basic terminologies have changed, for example, we discuss survivors of domestic violence instead of victims of domestic abuse. Terminology does matter! That shit about sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me? It's bullshit. If someone calls you a victim enough times, it will be that many times harder for you to view yourself as something more. A rose by any other name would not smell as sweet because if I name my kid shit and always call the kid a piece of shit, they're going to feel like a piece of shit.

I didn't envision Occupy Wall Street or Black Lives Matter or so many of the amazing things that are happening around me. I also never envisioned that Planned Parenthood would be attacked or that women's basic rights would be eroding around me. I never would have guessed that someone like Bernie Sanders could be a real contender in the Democratic presidential options.  I look forward to seeing what comes next and hope like heck that it moves in a direction of equality for all!

I wanted to end this post with a photo and link to a site that sells shirts that say, "Pro Choice, Pro Feminism, Pro Unicorns," but I can't find anybody who sells them in 3x (my size), so damnit, I'm not going to link to their stores.





* This sentence is a paraphrase from a blog post I read at some point; if you know who or where it's from, please let me know, and I'll credit the original writer.

Old and Crotchety

I want to be Sophie or Dorothy when I'm older.
Or Morgana, but she's not crotchety so I couldn't picture her here.  She's just cool.

This post is called "Old and Crotchety." It's about me being crotchety, and getting older, but "Old and Crotchety" is not the subject of the post. That's just the name of the post. That's why I call the post "Old and Crotchety."

Now it all started twenty one years ago… When I came out in 1993, I came out as bi, not as gay or straight. It was the closest thing that fit. It was a small republican town (not Stockbridge, MA). I quickly switched my terminology to lesbian because lesbians got a lot less flack, weren't seen as flaky, and even if I occasionally fucked a man, it was easier to identify as lesbian than to deal with people asking when I was going to pick a team.

Then it was 1994 and I rediscovered words like queer and dyke. They weren't restricted by terminology that used the word sex. That was important. My sexual orientation wasn't always about sex. It was about politics. It was about friendship. It was about picking up litter. And yeah, it was about sex.

Queer was less confining, less rigid, less academic than bisexual and homosexual and lesbian. Those terms sounded medical and antiseptic like I was gonna get injections, inspections, detections.

If someone asked, "Kid we only got one question: are you straight?" I'd answer no, and regardless of the term I chose for myself, they were going to find a way to denigrate it, so I might as well pick a word I liked, and queer was Strong. Powerful. Political.

And if they later asked, "Kid, have you rehabilitated yourself and gone straight?"

I'd go over and say, "You got a lot of god-damned gall to ask me if I've rehabilitated myself 'cause you want to know if I'm moral enough."

Remember, they started reclaiming the word queer in the early 90s.  I was pumped up on my newly discovered women's studies courses. I was 19. I wanted to reclaim and exclaim and do just about everything so that the whole world knew that I was into women. I wanted to create a nuisance.

I was a happy little queer, although I did use the term bisexual when outed at work in 1997. Queer wasn't an acceptable term for the workplace, and I liked (and more importantly needed) my job.

I finally saved up enough money that I went on to a university with my small town Associates degree. By 2000 I'd been out and queer for quite a while. My car was covered in rainbow stickers, and I didn't think about my sexual identity any differently than I thought about my morning yogurt because it was just a piece of me that I'd grown into. Well, not often.  When someone from church tried to set me up with her daughter, I was awed at just how liberal the Unitarian Universalists are.

I met a boy at college (he was a 30 year old grad student, I wasn't robbing the cradle). He gave me flowers, which nobody had ever done. In fact, no one had ever made a romantic gesture towards me unless they wanted something (for example that guy a friend made me date when I was 18 because she was worried people thought I was a lesbian because I didn't ever date guys - he attempted to woo me but that's just because she didn't know his green card ran out).

This was different. This was me actually being wooed. For the first (and only) time.  All previous girlfriends had been friends who became dates who became more. We didn't really do romance. We eschewed the trappings of romance as hallmark traditions.

It turns out I like being wood and treated like someone that someone has a romantic interest in. So I married him. Then we moved and suddenly everyone assumed I was straight. Then we married and moved and was in a monogamous, lifetime relationship with a man. Even when I told someone I was bi, they just glazed over because a married woman who's bi isn't really bi, she just wants to sound cool. Right? Right? Of course.

After separating and moving to the Boston area, I went back to calling myself queer. I eventually set-up an OKC profile where I met people who told me that I couldn't call myself queer because I was obviously only feminine. There was no gender fluidity in my being.

They're right. There isn't. I'm a cis woman and haven't ever questioned questioned it or needed to. So I figured ok, words have been redefined. I learned the rest of the alphabet and moved on with my life. But while bisexual completely works for me, it isn't as inclusive as it needs to be because I date along the gender spectrum, not just exclusively male or female folks.

So I tried on pansexual for size. It's a word that makes sense, but whenever I apply it to myself I giggle and giggle and picture myself wearing crystals. I don't know why, but when applied to me, pansexual sounds so new age.  It doesn't fit me.  It's a great word, but it's too new.  I'm an old fashioned woman.  So bisexual works better than pansexual to me.  I don't feel like a fraud.

However, the problem remains.  Bisexual is binary, and like pansexual, it still includes the word sex.  But queer... Queer works for me. It worked back then in the 1990s, too. For me it means standing up and saying what you want, choosing who you will be, defining yourself instead of letting other people define you.

Are you young and queer?  Do you want to argue with my decision on how I define myself?   Well, I have a problem with you taking a term I was using when you were still in diapers and saying that I'm not good enough for it.  I am not some wild revolutionary like I thought I was going to be.  One of the few things I have been a part of was participating in the reclamation of the words queer and dyke. I don't give a flying fuck what you think. Now go to your room while the grownups play.

And the only reason I'm typin' you this post now is 'cause you may know somebody in a similar situation.

Or you may be in a similar situation, and if you're in a situation like that, there's only one thing you can do:

Walk in wherever you are, just walk in, say "You can get anything you want when you're queer," and walk out.

You know, if one person, just one person, does it, they may think ze's really slick.

And if two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both faggots.

Arlo Guthrie

And if three people do it! Can you imagine three people walkin' in, singin' Queer and walkin' out? They may think it's an Organization!

And can you imagine fifty people a day? I said FIFTY people a day ...
Walkin' in, singin' I'm queer and walkin' out? Friends, they may think it's a MOVEMENT, and that's what it is: the queer movement! 
and all you gotta do to join is to say it the next time it comes around.

Ok, yeah, iconic song. Totally ripped it off for for my rant, but dammit, you can do anything you want at Alice's Restaurant!