Keep Loving Keep Fighting

Hippies Are So Gay

2010-03-25T20:45:00.000-07:00

<--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

2010-03-18T20:46:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-16T15:37:00.000-07:00

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?

I Don't Give a Fuck About Your Engagement

2009-07-08T22:34:00.000-07:00

I'm not a fan of marriage (never have been) for a lot of reasons. There's the fact that it's patriarchal, that it was founded on women's objectification, that it's a complete melding of church and state, the way it's used to control women's sexuality and then just some basic philosophical ideas that there is something honorable in staying with one person forever. Or the simple fact that for whatever reason it's not working for people anymore (divorce is damn near immanent). But this another post in itself. I do however feel that the whole "equal marriage" issue is an issue of human rights, and if you're going to have marriage as an institution it needs to be for everyone. duh. You know all that I'm sure. Everyone is entitled to their own choices and opinions on this and one's choice to get married is not harming me in anyway.

BUT what really pisses me off is this: I had my first day of Improv. class today and one of the first exercises was a "get to know you game" which is like musical chairs but the odd one out has to say something about themselves and everyone who has that in common with them stands up. One young woman stood up proudly and said "I'm engaged!" and another proud woman stood up and the whole class clapped and hooted and hollered for them. WTF?! Both of these women are great people as far as I can tell, and I don't mean to bash on them at all, but using them as an example let me say this, aside from the fact that were I engaged it would make me a criminal, WHO THE FUCK CARES??!!

I keep getting notices on my facebook newsfeed about my straight 22-25 year old friends getting engaged and married. Shouldn't this be something between partners? And what's all the pride about? Yes, having a stable, healthy, long-term relationship is an accomplishment, but one's decision to make that legal (or official in the "eyes of god" *eye roll*) has no direct correlation to the quality of that relationship. The decision to get married in and of itself is not an accomplishment, it's a legal agreement and romantic/spiritual symbol for the PARTNERS INVOLVED. Why is it socially acceptable, in fact encouraged, to brag about engagements? People don't generally BRAG about how healthy their relationships are, how great their sex is, how they've gotten through fights or any other personal information like that, why engagement?

Especially because this bragging is in regard to something ILLEGAL to a HUGE portion of the population!!!! Why is there no sensitivity to this issue? I got an invite to a wedding shower from an old friend of mine, okay thoughtful I guess, but wouldn't you feel a little embarassed? Like if "interacial" marriage were still illegal, would you invite interracial couples to buy you presents for your white-white wedding shower? Because if it were ME, sorry to JUDGE, but I would say "Wow, this institution is really exclusive! Why do I want to be a part of such a fucked up institution???"

But people are NOT asking themselves that question - they're posting pictures of their weddings, their rings, their showers on the newsfeed and inviting me to buy them presents. Which I'll do.

So in conclusion of this rant, I not impressed by your ability to say "yes" or "pop the question," nor am I impressed with your ability to throw a party, nor the acquisition the liscense you are legally entitled to. Congrats on being in love, if that is in fact the case, I wish you the best. But I don't give a FUCK about your engagement.

Vegetarian Feminists!

2009-04-26T11:01:00.000-07:00

Hey all, I'm writing my paper for senior seminar on the link between feminism and vegetarianism, and if you're a vegetarian I want YOU for my survey. Please? It should only take a few minutes, depending on how much you're willing to share with me, but it will be very helpful for me. I've never made a survey in my life, so I hope it goes well. Here's the link, thanks!!

Click here to take our Online Survey

Dyke Clothes!

2009-04-05T17:21:00.000-07:00

Hey! So I haven't written in a long time because I felt like all the issues I was having in the realm of Queerness and Feminism were somehow tied to the readers of this blog and I felt a bit limited by it. By which I mean, I was dealing with drama in a small town that I felt would be perpetuated by my subject matter. I like writing this blog though and people seem to enjoy, so I think I'll make a point to keep up with it.

I'm gonna go with a less heated topic this time and go with formal lesbian clothing. I recently applied for and recieved a $200.00 stipend from SUNY New Paltz to by myself a suit. Sweet! However I was only given to weeks to spend the money and that mission proved more difficult than I expected. I recieved a packet along with the check recommending what I should buy and where I should shop. One page - I shit you not - had the heading "What's a Gal to Wear?" as well as a seperate section (of course) entitled "What's a Guy to Wear?" Sections were accompied by a picture of a brunette, caucasian man and a blonde, lip-stick wearing woman in what appears to me a jacket and skirt. The fact that a good deal of the recievers of this stipend of people of color and the pictures of the people "Dressed for Success" are white is offensive enough, but the gender specificity really got me.

Women are to wear a "professional suit with single or double-breasted jacket with matching skirt or pants," "minimal make-up and hair pulled back out of face," "conservative hosiery," "conservative shoes...make sure heels are no higher than 1.5 inches..." I get what they're going for here, and I myself could use some guidance in looking professional, but do they have to be so 1950's about it? Not to mention suggested shopping places were Marshall's, Dress Barn and Men's Warehouse, among others.

This whole thing might just be a minor annoyance accept that after I buy my suit I have to have it approved by the college, so I asked the woman at the desk in the Career Resource Center what exactly I needed. She said firmly, "A SUIT. A two piece suit." And I'm thinking, no way am I finding a whole suit in a set that doesn't have "boob darts" as my friend Heather calls the boob lines on jackets, or a tight fitted waist on the fact and with a low waist on the pants. I wouldn't refer to myself as butch, but I dress a bit androgynously a lot of the time and a traditional women's suit would look ridiculous on me, not that I would want one any way. But what if the person who has to evaluate my suit decides androgynous is not synonymous with "dressing for success"? I think the systems a bit flawed in that sense. They really need to update their guidelines if that "Gal's" guide is what their judging us by.

So with this stipend I went to Macy's which was bullshit - you either get a frumpy woman's suit or a man's suit and if you're trying on men's clothing than you have to walk out of the men's section to a women's dressing room. H and M wasn't fancy enough. I made a couple trips with no luck. So in asking a couple Queer friends I came up with Banana Republic. If you need a suit, go to the Poughkeepsie Banana Republic and ask for Marge because she fucking rocks. I lucked out in that she helped me find pants I could wear on my hips, a shirt without obvious boob darts in a neutral color and a really sexy, loose-fitted "boyfriend jacket." Fuck Macy's and their stupid gender specific clothing - I had been waiting since tomboy-dom for boy-style underwear and women's boxers which Macy's briefly provided by Calvin Klein and then took back like it was just a tease. (Which didn't stop me from buying a drawerful of them while I could.) Pat on the back to Banana Republic and Marge for being cool. And in the end New Paltz was cool as well and happily approved my suit, despite their conservative guidelines.

Any other good dyke-friendly clothing stores people recommend?

Here's a clip by Julie Goldman who I have a huge crush on despite the fact that she can be controversial. And since this is a radical feminist blog as well, let me say that I don't approve of refering to other women as "bitches," but I DO approve of Banana Republic... http://www.mefeedia.com/entry/julie-goldman-lesbian-wedding/15000147

And one of my favorite bits by her, which you gotta start at 6:43 if you want the part about Victoria Secret, which I think is the best part. Got it, 6:43?
http://www.logoonline.com/video/misc/225126/comedy-cocktail-for-ae-julie-goldman.jhtml?id=1588750
Love her <3

K, that's all I got. Keep loving, keep stickin' it to Macy's.

A word, or several, on "Politcal Correctness"

2009-01-15T14:06:00.000-08:00

I'm often accused of being very "politically correct." I deliberatly use the word "accused" because it's never been used as a compliment. In fact I've come to cringe at the words "politically correct." So what does it mean? The dictionary is telling me that to be politically correct means, "conforming to a belief that language and practices which could offend political sensibilities (as in matters of sex or race) should be eliminated." Which sounds harmless enough, but what it comes to have mean in our culture is angry, humorless, close-minded and a major obstacle to socializing. Which is ironic, because I think people choose these specific words as a politically correct way of calling me an angry bitch who should really keep her mouth shut.

I told a friend today, after she referred to me as politically correct that I wouldn't call it politically correct, so much as I am "sensitive." She laughed at me and told me, "No, I get it, you're just very aware of how certain things can effect many different types of people." I told her no, it's about how it affects ME, but she wasn't buying it. For example, I was recently subjected to an episode of "The Office," and this particular episode had a character referring to another character as a "faggot." The word was used many times by Steve Corell in a fast-paced monologue (hilarious I'm told) until he confronted said "faggot" and apologized and said, "I'm sorry I called you a faggot, I didn't know you actually WERE a faggot, and perhaps some time I can take you out for a drink and... you can tell me how you can do that to another guy." When I didn't laugh and just said flatly, "that's awful." He assured me that if I knew the characters and watched the show I would laugh. What so few people seem to understand is that when I hear the word "faggot," I see my ex-girlfriend in middle school laying in the dirt being kicked in the stomach by a boy yelling, "FAGGOT!" I can't smile when that image pops up in my head. I don't care what show it's on. I love Scrubs but if they ever referred to someone as a faggot there is no way I could ever get out a laugh when it's hard enough to just let it go enough not to cry and scream and throw shit because the world is fucked up and I don't want to be reminded of it.

But my political correctness extends beyond my sexual orientation, which is even less understood. People get annnoyed at my "hang ups" on the word "retarded." Or on racist jokes. "But I don't MEAN it like that." And that's what people don't understand, my silence and lack of laughter isn't about secretly hating you or judging you, it's about the image in my head of true stories of my friends, of children I've worked with, of the young boy of color beaten with a metal bat the night Obama was elected. Do people not see the connection between words like "magic negro" and the bat against this kid's skull? Why does this image not come up in everyone's head? When people say, "That's so gay," before I can get a thought out my face gets red and my blood pressure shoots through the roof and my heart pounds and I think, "Should I say something?" It's not something I think about. It happens. It impedes my laughter.

But this sensitivity is not something of which I'm ashamed. I think it's the effect of a patriarchal culture that has people disconnecting words from their meanings and reality from their hearts. People are too ashamed to admit when they feel sadness or empathy for the murdered animal they are about to eat, or that that rape joke has them reeling with memories of an event they'd like to forget, that they remember being called "fat" and being embarassed to eat in the cafeteria, or how hard the "special ed. kids" got teased and called "retarded." Ashamed to admit when something hurts.

Yes people have found me dramatic, but I honestly think it's the effect of our cultural machismo that the words "politically correct" have been feminized and made into a fucking insult.

I consider myself a funny person in life, and I've been told by others that I'm funny so it's not totally in my head. I used to hang out mostly with guys, I participated in a prevalantly male sport, I've "walked amongst them" as much as any tomboy could and I have participated in those jokes and comments. But I've also been the butt of those jokes, and over the years have come to realize that my empathy, sensitivity and emotion are incredibly real, importent and essential parts of myself that I am incapable of denying anymore, and that, more importently, I don't care to. I'd be ashamed of myself to ignore these feelings and to deny that when a person tells me a tragic story, or I read one, I feel it and that story becomes part of me and when a joke is made about a similar event that story comes up in me and weighs heavy and I just don't have the urge to laugh. I'm not going to fake it just to make YOU feel more comfortable.

"Politically correct," really means aware, empathetic, strong and outspoken and really, don't let anyone make you feel guilty or ashamed about it because it's absolute bullshit. Tell THEM to quit being numb macho assholes. Keep loving, keep fighting.

The Home Front

2008-11-26T09:12:00.000-08:00

I'd like to offer hugs for all who need them, but especially for those queer folks among us and especially the queer feminists. I feel you. It can be nice to see all the family faces again, catch up, enjoy the good food, all of that, but home can also be a stressful and oppressive place for some of us and I hope I can offer a little support there. I can say that over the past few years it's become harder and harder to come back, despite my love for my family, and this year being single for the holidays I'm lacking for the first time in years the support of a partner to laugh through it with me. So let's all blog shall we!

Families criticize, they bicker, they take anger out on each other, they give opinions when they're not asked of them, it's what families do. If you want the benefits of family and the joys of being with your loved ones, this comes with it. I can deal with that. Part of growing up is taking a deep breath, letting it slide and laughing with your friends later about how crazy your family is. I'd like to differentiate though, the difference between anger, hurt, retaliation from societal and institutional oppression, to affirm in us that we don't deserve the latter and we shouldn't need to passively accept it.

I just had an argument with my for the most part liberal, accepting, open-minded mother, about this very issue. I have a homophobic uncle (through marriage). Not only is he incredibly homophobic, he's incredibly racist, sexist, the whole package. On top of this he lacks a personality, he's lacks humor, and I've yet to see evidence of a soul, but hey, who am I to judge. He's a pilot and a military man, and has that terminator, "I was just following orders" empty hateful look about him. I was venting about this to my mother along with his homophobic behavior around me and my now ex-girlfriend. My mom gets defensive and tells me my aunt can love him despite his "politics" and for that matter, "religion or prejudices." This sent me into a rant about how those are the very things that make a person who they are, that this person hates me based on who I love and that's an indication of a serious internal issue. In my defensiveness I MAY have referred to him as a "hateful, soulless mutherfucker," which my mother interpreted as hatred. She ended the spat with, "God Meghan, you are so full of hate." The fact that I'm defending LOVE is completely eclipsed by my defensive anger. I couldn't believe she was defending not only this guy who don't like on a personal level, but someone whose beliefs make me less of a human being my society's standards. This is the point I'm getting at.

Homophobia, racism and sexism are by definition hatred and judgement BASED IN INSTITUTIONAL POWER, meaning calling me a "fag" isn't just a word, it also represents me not having job security, not having full protections under the law, being a potential target for violence and slurs at any time, etc. Calling someone "ignorant" or "priviledged," an "asshole" or even a "honky/cracker" has none of these societal, institutional consequences, in fact, they are generally rewarded by our institutions.

There's a difference between individual, personal disagreements and participating in oppression. Some of us have no choice on whether we hold our tongues around our families - it's a matter of having family or losing them, or sometimes life or death. But we need to be able to parse out the everyday family disagreements and misunderstandings from the oppression we face everyday and at the very least, remind ourselves that we don't deserve that. We don't deserve hatred based on who we are and who we love. Falling in love is not a choice, but it is a choice to follow that love and fight for it and stand by it and help it grow and thrive and THAT choice is a brave and fucking noble choice and don't ever doubt that. Especially in these family dinner moments when they can't separate anger from oppression and don't realize that we don't have a choice in whether or not to get angry and hurt, and it certainly doesn't mean that we're "full of hate" - we're full of love and fighting tooth and nail to protect that. So keep this in mind and keep loving and keep fighting, we're in it together.

I'm going to close with an award winning haiku called "I Could Never Have a Homophobic Lover" by Caroline Rothstein, who I was lucky enough to hear perform at SUNY New Paltz last week:

Why would you want a

lover that discriminates

against sex and love?

Peace Talk

2008-11-17T21:40:00.001-08:00

I just watched the short Swedish film "Peace Talk" ("I Fred") by Jenifer Malmqvist and was, for lack of truly fitting words, touched. I was brought to tears by the 15 minute movie, and immediately got online to look up more about it and where I could purchase it. I was excited to find the film available to view online in it's entirety, but crushed when reading the comments. Every summary and review I read of the movie was from a completely heteronormative and often homophobic view, and all clearly misunderstood the movie. So for those who may not have have the queer lens through which to see this movie, let me provide one of my own.

The film begins with two young girls (maybe 11?) playing, when Jenna imagines a siren signaling enemy attack. Emile wants to continue playing "Rockgroup," but Jenna says "Even rockgroups need to defend themselves." They grab their waterguns and shoot down Barbie Dolls and Teddy Bears. As the game continues, Jenna's mother becomes the "enemy attack," Jenna tells Emile to keep her voice down so her mother won't hear. Reviewers seem to confuse the movie here by interpreting the girls affection toward each other as a formation of some type of lesbian/queer identity. But a closer look at the film reveals that Jenna already understood her identity to be deviant. The war game itself is symbolic for her defense against her mother, homophobia, mainstream society.

While in the symbolic foxholes of this imagined world, Jenna and Emile are able to express their true identities and their feelings for each other. When the girls are first confronted by Jenna's mother who catches them kissing, they are first ashamed and embarassed, the covers have literally been pulled off of them and the safe, imagined world they created and they are forced again into the roles of deviant, misbehaving, abnormal girls who were playing "just a game." But this time it is Emile who encourages Jenna to resist as she places Jenna's camouflaged cap back on her head. They lock themselves in the bathroom, were they kiss and put on both lip stick and war paint because the two are one in the same. They are forced into war and refuse to be beaten down.

When Jenna's mother touch catch them, Jenna puts up a silent but powerful fight - spraying her mother with a squirt gun, and when told Emile is being sent home, even spitting in her face. When told to apologize, she puts duck tape over her mouth. As Emile leaves and Jenna is pulled from her arms, Jenna is a prisoner of war. She feels powerless except in her ability to resist. Her mother offers peace, but Jenna knows that she is fighting a defensive war and peace is not possible. Her mother rips the duct tape off her face.

The closing scene is Jenna under the covers on her bed, thinking, we can assume, about her mother's offer. Hurt, pushed down and frustrated, Jenna wipes Emile's lipstick kiss off her hand (symbolic of a battle wound, healed by Emile). Jenna wants to please her mother and conforms with wiping off the kiss, but she sobs, knowing what was lost.This is a movie about identity, about the power of The Erotic (the natural, powerful force within us that cannot be erased by oppression), and about the defensive war "queer" people (outsiders)are forced to fight. Jenna and Emile would have like to stay protected from the outside, content in eachother's company and with what they discovered in each other, but they were forced to give up with private world.

I read comments on the movie referring to it as "cute," one saying "cute girl but what a brat! omg... poor mommy!" a couple blatantly homophobic comments, the LOGO website said it was about "two tomboys playing wargames" and one iMDB review (the only one) stated: "the film is about the girl's mother realizing the child may be a lesbian, as this game involves kissing and caressing. This would explain why Logo (a gay cable channel and internet site) would post the short film." This review takes a completely heteronomative point of view on the film, furthering the point that the girls' reality really could only happen under a blanket alone. Also the reviewer take the fact that there is "kissing and caressing" (the girls peck on the lips and Jenna runs her finger down Emilie's nose) as the reason LOGO picked it up. This deeply political, emotional film is being reduced to sex, which of course is what being Queer is all about, so OF COURSE LOGO picked up on it. *sarcasm* Please watch and enjoy the film and don't be swayed but the overwhelming, heteronormative readings of it - by understand the real meanings of the movie from a "queer" perspective, we can keep alive that which so far, can only exist under that sheet and behind locked doors.