Hippies Are So Gay

<--Author, age 15.

Today I was walking around a mall in the area I grew up around and walked into my favorite store throughout my elementary and middle school years, “The Dancing Bear,” (I think the name gives away the kind of store it is and if you have to ask you’ll never know). I was immediately bombarded with a series of seemingly disconnected flashbacks. The band merchandise reminded me of my old bedroom. The song playing was one my girlfriend from college used to dance to, the incense was the kind she used to burn. The rock n’ roll and reggae themed t-shirts were the same ones I wore over-sized throughout high school, the beads, the tie-dye, all were part of my wardrobe as soon as I was capable of picking out my own clothes. The display of jewelry reminded me of recent infatuations, watching such bracelets slide seductively up and down wrists and forearms. And earlier memories of the first girl I ever fell for at age 14 - though I can’t say I understood the feelings at the time – she too was heavily adorned in bracelets, beads and rings, and with her low raspy voice she reminded me of Janis Joplin.

I went to school in rural, upstate New York and from a very young age was called a “hippie.” At first I prided myself on the label having reveled in my mothers stories of being a young hippie, but it didn’t take long to realize the label was not meant as a compliment. I was called a hippie when I chose to become a vegetarian at age 5 by family and by kids at school, by my brother for all the beads and necklaces I wore, by teachers when I started bringing animal rights petitions into school, when I brought tabouli and veggie stir-fry in my lunch. For my long hair, lugging around an acoustic guitar, my “stoner” friends, my Led Zeppelin and Bob Marley t-shirts and of course the dreadlocks I back-combed into my hair and sported for a terrifying 17 hours before their painful removal.

In high school I was still weird, still outspoken and still passionate for causes but in the later years the labels evolved. I dated boys who played in bands, I went to poetry readings, I shaved my head, I was still a vegetarian but instead of the loud, obnoxious accusation of “You damn hippie!” a different word, one that existed in whispers and rumors made its appearance: lesbian.

Putting aside the fact that the rumors were true, I find it significant that there’s such a cultural overlap. I can’t speak for gay men, but for lesbians there’s seems to be a significant number of commonalities. I remember when I was thirteen going to a local summer music festival and seeing all the women with their dreds, all the vegetarian vendors, the political pins and feeling such a feeling of belonging, as if I had been born of this family and adopted by a cultural family that didn’t understand me. When I got to college – SUNY New Paltz, biggest hippie college in New York state to my knowledge – and met the feminist community I had that feeling all over again.

Why is this? Because being a hippie is so gay. When I say “hippie culture” I am referring to the culture that has sprung up in place of the anti-war movement of the 1960’s and 70’s. It seems to have several different facets some of the most significant being general political activism, rock music and marijuana usage. It has come to be characterized by a particular type of clothing, music and food and I would argue, with no statistical backing whatsoever that it is one of the most significant (in number, geographical span and duration) American subcultures currently. But that’s coming from someone who has stuck herself in the thick of it for years.

I will also acknowledge that it is an overwhelmingly caucasian culture. The reasons for that are subject for another long essay, but speaking from my perspective as a white woman growing up in a very white, rural area this hippie culture struck me as incredibly liberating and accepting. Unfortunately this is probably not the case for young, queer women of color or there would more people of color involved. [Where are the queer women of color finding respite in their high school years? Any feedback?]

The way the word “hippie” was spit at me by the pick-up truck driving, shotgun slinging, camouflaging wearing boys of my middle and high school the same was “gay,” “queer” and “fag” was spit at the effeminate boys in those hallways. “Hippie” to the ignorant, conservative community is flowery, weak and frivolous, the opposite of all that is strong, brave, and patriotic. Or more simply put into the dichotomies our culture loves so much, hippie culture is feminine, and that’s bad. And what’s the opposite of hippie? Well I’d argue its homophobia and chauvinism.

Its interesting to me that so much of hippie culture has provided a haven for so many queer women like my 13-year-old self. That in college I went to potlucks, held megaphones and screamed to hoards of women about our rights, advocated for sustainability, and a bunch of other stereotypes of both hippies and lesbians (ate hummus and tofu, smoked pot, grew out my body hair). Gay men don’t seem to have this connection with the hippie community. I suspect this is because of the difference in socialization between men and women. For us (yes I said “us” so here I go walking the thin line between essentialism and transphobia) coming out is often a physical and cultural “embracing” of all those traditionally devalued signifiers of “women.” [I say “traditionally” because I do not mean to imply that these are implicitly female traits, they are traits/activities/values that have been in many ways forced upon women as a result of the male/female dichotomy. I also do not mean to imply that because they are traditionally supported by women they are therefore right or better. I simply mean they haven’t been valued and we need to revisit them and perhaps keep them going if they still suit our needs and desires.] For a gay man embracing “all that is traditionally male” would mean something altogether different and I can’t imagine it would involve pot lucks, knitting, and/or saving the redwoods.

Hippie culture is interesting in that it’s so often walking parallel to the women’s and queer rights movements. In recent years it appears that hippie culture has become a metaphorical stop on the underground lesbian railroad. I’ve met my fair share of dykes throughout my college experience that light up at the sight of a hacky sack, myself included. I will say - though I’m not sure which came first the chicken or the egg – that unfortunately in my opinion, it’s a pretty drug saturated culture. I’m not sure if it’s that so many young lesbians smoke pot and are then drawn to the rest of the culture, or that so many baby dykes feel part of this culture and smoking pot becomes a bit of a rite of passage. For me I have to say it was the latter. I love that there’s such subcultural niche for young lesbians however I do wish substances didn’t have such a huge role in it. (I guess there’s always the Anime subculture. HA. Sorry, uncalled for…)

My intention in writing this was to acknowledge and honor the overlap of these communities and also make apparent the way the word “hippie” is thrown around and how people use it. How often do they really mean “queer” and what does that reveal about our culture and/or the context in which the word was used? Everybody knows my heart is with the feminist theoretical community, but in this entry I’m giving a shout-out to hippie culture and telling them to keep loving and keep fighting. Keep defending the hippie label. And to read your feminist theory and defend the feminist label and your Queer sisters and brothers. And to the feminist theorists, there are a ton of cute dykey girls hiding at those music festivals, I’m tellin’ ya.

<---The author in Bob Marley shirt and beads on 14th birthday, in the midst of an awkward stage with said Janis Joplin girl-crush on the far left. (The cat's out of the bag to her and my school...)

As always, comments and feedback are totally encouraged! I miss the passionate discussions of my Women's Studies classes!

For Elvgren and Sailor Jerry, From Your Pin-Ups

Studied Sailor Jerry's pin-ups for awhile and tried to draw one in my journal, but after all that time staring at their expressionless faces, their exhausting, eternal horniness and their perpetual lack of agency, this was the best I could do:

I hope it speaks from the heart of all those cartoon pin-ups.

Follow up on the previous blog entry - I decided not to go back to my job the next day. Or the day after that. Or EVER again.

Raising the Next Generation of Homophobes, Self-Haters, and Homophobic-Self- Haters

Today I was sitting - fantasizing about every where else I'd rather be, I'm sure - at a table at the daycare I work at with group of 3 1/2 to 4 year olds, and the "teacher," Miss Brandy. The kids were coloring pictures of leprechauns and then the teacher would let them put stickers on their finished works. I heard her say to a female student, "What sticker do you want, hearts or shoes or perfume bottles?" I thought to myself, Hmm I somehow doubt that those are the sticker options from the entire class... And sure enough a few minutes later I heard her ask a male child, "Would you like trucks or sports?" I need to preface this story with how often stuff like this happens and consequently how much I abhor every day of my god awful, temporary job. I sat for a few minutes letting my blood boil as she continued with the rest of the class before I eventually went up to her and asked, "What if he wants hearts or shoes?" She ignored me for a few moments but I kept standing there making it so uncomfortable that she eventually aknowledged me with,
"He can have sports or cars."
I said, "Yeah, well, what if he wants hearts or shoes?"
Again she tried to ignore me, then said, "He has only a couple choices." And then struck up a conversation with a kid.

Now, what she said was, "He only has a couple choices." But what I heard was, "We only provide the students with options that are socially acceptable so that he won't grow up to be like you." Because really, that seems to be the fear. I was incredibly angry over the whole thing and a few minutes later I approached my supervisor in the hall and said:
"[Boss's name], This might not sound like a big deal to you, but it really is a huge deal to me. In Miss Brandy's classroom the girl students were only allowed to choose stickers with hearts and shoes... And to me, that comes across as inherently homophobic."
She smiled and said, "Yeah, I think that's because some of the parents, even of infants, would get really upset if they saw their boy with...that..stuff...And I think that's why she did that."
"Well, what if it was something with race? What if a parent felt we should enforce a racist policy? I don't believe we would cater to it."
"Well I think that's why she did it, but I'll ask her."

WHAT THE FUCK???!!! Okay, so lets create a similarly ridiculous, offensive and ignorant comment regarding race and see how it sounds: A parent complains to the staff of Maple Leaf Daycare [name has not been changed because I don't care] because her white daughter was offered watermelon for snack and - she feels - watermelon is a food black people eat. Would the good folks of Maple Leaf see to it that watermelon not be offered to the children? UH NO BECAUSE IT'S OBVIOUSLY FUCKING RACIST AND RIDICULOUS AND POINTLESS!

I am a fucking staff member AND I am a lesbian and to me this is so blatantly offensive and not only am I not backed up by my supervisor but no one seems to be able to even wrap their head around the connection! ALL day long these people make efforts to enforce the heterosexuality and heteronormativity of these children: the color paper they pick, the games they play, the friends they hug, the stickers they get, WHAT are they so afraid of? That their kid will end up like me? What the hell?? Since when does sticker choice correlate to sexual orientation? And not only that, but it's gender discrimination!

Yes, it is nice to know I'm making a difference sometimes. Just a couple weeks ago I started a discussion with a group of 4 year olds who were discussing how "ugly" the color brown is, "especially for girls to wear" and eventually we were talking about how brown is beautiful and how many of our friends have brown skin and I was glad I got to be there for that. I've also intervened almost daily when a student or staff member says, "Boys can't...!" or "Girls can't...!" But when I'm not backed up by any of the staff or my supervisor and I already feel like the odd one out with these women, I get so overwhelmed with rage and frustration. It blows my mind that these ideas that are so obviously stupid, trivial and homophobic are still allowed and unacknowledged. I've gotten much better at not exploding with rage in interactions with adults but something about these ideas being perpetuated in children REALLY gets under my skin. It just seems so sick. Kids are so open and generally loving and instilling ideas that will later make them hate each other and themselves makes me reeeeeeally uncomfortable.

And the whole argument of "Well we just want life to be EASIER for them! Kids get beat up in school for things like that!" is such crap. They get beat up because people force these ideas of "normalcy" into their heads.

I know the topic of gender socialization of children has been talked to death in the Queer community - at least I've heard my fair share of it - but I needed to vent and since my radical queer blog is apparently being read by a handful of non-queer friends (I know because I've been scolded for it) perhaps it will be news to a portion of this demographic. Quit assigning genders to your kids play. It's dumb. It bums out your kid and it just makes it harder for the rest of us. And because as bad as I wanna quit I still have 9 days left at this job and I need the pay check.

Thoughts on ways to "stick it to the man" here?