#use of the word queer and a bunch of straight women in my class were criticizing it & i was like. idk i don’t have words

[lesbianlenas]

can i be honest it’s genuinely crazy as a lesbian to be sitting in a room w like 15 other ppl including ur professor who are all heterosexual women and two men as they discuss “queer women” and u just have to sit there while they say a slur in an academically approved way bc it is apparently progressive to say said slur and what are u going to do abt it? lol. when u think abt it in an objective way tho it is actually insane. like u are all saying a derogatory slur that refers to ppl like me and are congratulating urselves on using the politically correct term as u do so. and i just have to sit there like

[piqued-curiosity]

https://www.tumblr.com/piqued-curiosity/714434581926936576

i really don't think this is true.. basically everyone around me, minus conservatives, are very much supportive. i can't breathe a single 'transphobic' word around anyone ages 20-30.

plus, if this were true, how would they have managed to achieve everything they have? you need a very decent amount of support to have the backing of the literal president...

I’m sort of on the fence about it.

On one hand, I really REALLY want to believe that it’s not as widespread as it seems. And it’s absolutely true that “normies” are famous for not subscribing to queer/gender ideology, so there’s something to be said for online exposure contributing to belief in these ideologies, and it being more rampant online.

At the same time…I think there’s more fair weather liberals who just agree with whatever makes them look good than we think. As you said, there’s a reason it was able to take off so quickly and become so powerful. There’s a reason sports teams and apparently ballet schools are changing their rules to allow men in. There’s a reason there’s whole university courses called “queer studies”. There’s a reason I’ve seen that word plastered around my university, and I had to talk to a straight professor after class requesting that he not use a slur to talk about LGB people. There’s a reason the majority of people can’t say their true thoughts about gender ideology in their friend groups or even at family dinners. There’s a reason women are getting fired from their jobs for not calling men by “she” or “they”. There’s a reason women in rape shelters are being told to “re-examine” their trauma about the weapon used to rape them. Etcetera etcetera. And those reasons aren’t that this is a small group of online people pushing a niche ideology.

I also question if the only group that supports this is said fair weather liberals. The thing about queer/gender ideology that makes them so popular, is that there’s something for everyone. It tells straight liberals that they too can be part of the group they’ve spent so long advocating for!! They too can be special!! It allows them to stop thinking too hard about subconscious homophobia they have (for example, they never thought we weren’t weird/“queer”. They always thought of us as “queer”…it’s just now it’s okay for them to say so) and instead embrace it. They also don’t have to work too hard to discard gender norms in their head. Instead they can just say “femininity” = woman and “masculinity” = man. For conservatives, it allows them to lump LGB people in with “queers”, and call us the slur they’ve been wanting to say for so long without social backlash, as well as have an excuse to hate us and make the slippery slope argument. (“Look!! The LGBTQIA+ I can’t remember the letters community is transitioning kids and saying you’re special if you need to be attracted to somebody to fuck them!! Remember when I said slippery slope? Remember when I said they’re all a bunch of people trying to be special? I was right!”) And of course, they get to transition gay kids as a form of conversion therapy and be applauded for it by liberals.

The hopeful, optimistic side of me says that it’s just this terminally online group of liberals doing whatever they can to support the cause of the decade without actually knowing anything about it. Because look, I’m female and homosexual. These movements hit me hard. I desperately want them to just be an online fad!!! I am SO TIRED of having men walk all over me and my sex, and being pushed incredibly homophobic rhetoric by the people who convinced me they were on my side. I gain nothing from believing it’s doom and gloom.

But the realistic side of me says what I said in the tags…that there must be a reason I’m seeing this shit everywhere. With how prominent these ideologies have become, it’s hard to really believe it’s a small thing mostly confined to the online world.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Troublemaker (Before)

Previously on Troublemaker

“See! You’re having a good time!”

The music pulsated through the streets, and Lexa didn’t care that her sister was gloating because she really was having a good time despite all intentions otherwise. The sun was bright and glaring without a cloud in the sky, and downtown was brimming with all colors, alive and vibrant, celebrating. And she as swept up in it, proud and overflowing with the music and freedom of being completely herself and being completely unknown in the crowd. 

It’d been a hard fought battle for her to agree to come with her sister to Pride, but she didn’t have anything else to do, and because of Anya’s need to be an overachiever, something they both ascribed to genetics, she was going to be doing an internship and leaving soon enough, thus cutting their summer together incredibly short. The guilt and her sister’s incessant need to prove a point brought them downtown for the day, and Lexa was almost okay with it.

“I knew you would like it,” Anya gloated, dancing around with her sister in the pulsating group of bodies at the concert in the park. 

“Is it always like this?” 

A gaggle of scantily-clad men moved through in nothing but speedos and suspenders, and Lexa let one of them grab her and twirl her around. The entire day, she’d been absolutely adored and adoring of everyone around her. An inundation of love and support was enough to make her unsure of how to go back to real life.

Her sister watched as Lexa danced, hands up, smiling wide and overjoyed. She enjoyed the fact that her sister came out to her and she could actually do something about it. Though straight, Anya spent her first two years of college taking a crash course in gay when her random roommate was a very out and very proud girl who liked to use Anya as a wngman. She was incredibly helpful in coming up with things to help Lexa feel normal and supported, and Anya was going ot be the best big sister possible. She was that type A.

“Pride is always like this,” Anya promised. “And you get to be super gay anytime you want. Isn’t that great?” 

“You’re worse than mom and dad. They’re like oddly proud to have a gay kid.” 

“Nah, just because you’re you.” 

“Shut up,” Lexa rolled her eyes and moved, wiggling around, goofy and carefree. 

For the entire day, the sisters moved through the crowds, checking out vendors, eating delicious food, listening to speakers, and got decked out in glowing necklaces and rainbows painted on their faces. It was exhausting to be so gay, but Lexa finally understood what she’d been missing in her fear of joining the GSA, and her fear of being out at school. She hadn’t thought about how wonderful it would be to not have to worry about hiding, or at least, not actively living. 

“Thank you,” Lexa offered, as the pair stood on the side of the road for the parade. She hugged her sister as the sun began to set between the tall buildings. “This has been the best day of my life.”

“You’re a sap.” 

“I am not.” 

“You are.” 

“I’m not,” she smiled and danced around, her sister not used to such a carefree girl in front of her. “I’m just super gay-- Oops, I’m so sorr--”

Lexa stopped moving after bumping into someone behind her, not paying attention and living her life too widely and too queerly for such a confined area. She gaped and stared at the body she bumped into, more mortified than she’d been in her entire life. 

The body came attached to a pretty face. A familiar face. A face with bright blue eyes, and a mischievous grin and a messy bunch of wavy blonde hair. A face that had a tongue ring. A face that was attached to the girl who protested the Sadie Hawkins dance, the pep rally, and last year single handedly turned the swimming pool pink for women’s history month.This was the same face that Lexa couldn’t help but stare at anytime she walked by in the halls at school. This was the face that didn’t even know she existed. 

Clarke Griffin stared back in equal parts amazement at the girl who did the bumping. In all of her wildest dreams, she never imagined Lexa Woods, class president, Academic Decathlon team captain, Student of the Quarter, perfect attendance-winning, overall adorable nerd, would be standing next to her at Pride. And not just standing-- dancing, covered in rainbows, and smiling in something other than a primly put together button up shirt with a schedule strapped to her chest. 

“Clarke,” Lexa gulped, unable to say anything else, unable to hide her fear and confusion. “I-I-I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I was just… um… ” 

“It’s okay. Kind of close quarters and you were just being super queer,” she returned gracefully as she eyed the entire being of Lexa on summer break. “I didn’t think I’d run into anyone here. I thought everyone left for summer.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, I’m always recruiting people for my zine. Intersectional politics and good music with a queer tint. Honestly, it’s whatever anyone submits. We set up a tiny booth,” Clarke explained, rambling slightly. “And I’m kind of gay.” 

“Kind of?” 

This was incredibly new and important news to Lexa, even if she didn’t know what to do with it.The entire school knew that Clarke ran with the same crowd, a crowd Lexa didn’t know anything about other than idle gossip. And it always looked like she was very close to Bellamy Blake. Romantically close. 

“Bi.”

“You have to go?” 

“No-- no… I’m bisexual.” 

Lexa felt her face burn and she wanted to melt into a puddle, right there in the early June evening. Maybe disappear into the sewer and wash away into the sea for the rest of time. But she didn’t. Instead, she just stood there, in front of the biggest badass tough guy hot girl she’s ever seen in her entire life. 

It was the longest they’d ever spoken, and she’d ruined it in under three minutes after learning that Clarke was gay-ish.

“That’s cool,” she finally managed, earning a small smile. 

Clarke pushed some hair away from her face and scratched her neck, using the pause to look at Lexa’s legs. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t try too much. 

“Is this your first Pride?” 

“Is it that obvious?” Lexa sighed, bashful at her display. 

“No, you look cute. I like the festiveness.” 

That didn’t help anything at all. Lexa looked around for her sister who made herself busy talking to other people and not at all available to bail her out of saying anymore words. 

“I’m gay,” Lexa finally blurted after a prolongued moment of silence. 

“That’s cool.” 

“Thanks.” 

A shout reached them over the noise of the parade, and both looked in that direction. 

“I have to um,” Clarke looked over her shoulder at the group that was calling her name. “I have to go catch up with my friends.”

“Right, yeah, definitely.” 

“It was good to see you, Woods,” she grinned as she backed away. “I hope I get to bump into you again.” 

“Right, yeah! Me, uh. Me too,” Lexa nodded.   

With another wave, Clarke was gone, swept up by her friends as they moved through the crowd. Lexa caught the look that Clarke gave her over her shoulder and she smiled because she got a look back. It might not have meant anything, but it still felt kind of good. 

“Your first Pride, and you’re getting chatted up by a grade A hottie. I’m impressed,” her sister slung her arm over her shoulder. 

“That was just a girl from school.” 

“She was not what I pictured for your type.” 

“I don’t-- I don’t have a type,” Lexa furrowed. 

“Everyone does. It just so happens that yours seems to be punk baddies with probable daddy issues.” 

“There’s no way you could know--”

“She was digging you too, by the way.” 

“There’s no-- I don’t-- She wouldn’t-- That was-- No,” Lexa shook her head. 

“Trust me. I’ve seen gay relief, and that girl was gay relieved you were gay.” 

“That’s not a thing.” 

“Don’t be mad because i have my ear to the ground in the gay community,” Anya shook her head. “I’ll have you know that Kaitlyn said I’d make a great lesbian.”

“Please let me die right here.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

The library on Fourth Street was nearly always empty around the end of lunch time. It seemed to empty out come the hottest part of the day with the normal crowd of parents and kids looking to stay busy during the long summer hours came in for story time and craft projects. 

With no particular impetus to move quickly, Lexa pushed her cart of returns through the aisles and rearranged any messy or disorganized stacks she found. But her head wasn’t particularly in it. 

Instead, Lexa thought about Pride, and replayed the entire interaction with a certain mild degenerate who had a pretty smile, who called her cute, she realized, halfway through overanalyzing it again for the hundredth time. All she could wonder was if this is what having a crush felt? And if so, was it possible to have crush after just three minutes? Nothing really prepared her for this. How could it? He didn’t have time for a crush. She only had to focus and get into the school she wanted. And then she could be who she thought she might want to be. 

“Hey Woods.” 

Lexa stopped as she turned to the next aisle, only to find the exact subject of her internal debate. There was a book tucked into her elbow as she retracted an arm reached out to grab something on a top shelf. Lexa looked to her bare arms, and then to her hips where a flannel was tied, and only subtly hiding her short shorts and some of the long legs and Lexa was gay. 

“I know it’s a library, but I’m sure you can talk a little bit,” Clarke smiled. 

Sunglasses tucked and holding her hair up out of her face, the girl had a motorcycle helmet tucked into the same elbow as the book. 

“Hey,” Lexa managed. 

“You work here?” 

“Yeah, just doing some little things, stacking, kids story time and stuff.” 

“Sounds fun,” Clarke nodded. She leaned against the shelf behind her and watched Lexa push her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. This was the Lexa she was used to seeing, and it did nothing to make her less interested, which was insanely weird. 

“Here for anything good?” 

“Uh, just some of the summer reading for Lit. And I’m kind of interested in a few SAT practice books. I took it already, but there’s one more that I can take before applications are due, and I’d like to see if I can do a little better.” 

It certainly wasn’t the reason Lexa expected, but she should have known better to expect anything from someone she really didn’t know other than through stories of stories of stories from other people. 

“Sounds like you have a busy summer planned.” 

Clarke laughed and ducked her head and Lexa tried not to be entranced by the action. 

“Have to keep busy between the protests and debauchery.” 

“Right, same.” 

“Everyone kind of left for the summer, it seems. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?” 

“I was thinking the same thing,” Lexa agreed. “I miss my friends, but I’ve gotten a lot of things done.” 

“I’m sure you’re already done with the summer homework.” 

“No… well, just most of it.” 

“We’re two weeks into summer break, Woods,” Clarke pretended to admonish. Lexa shrugged, slightly guilty. “We’re going to have to find something to keep you busy.” 

“I think work will take care of that.” 

“You’re forgetting that I saw you at Pride. I know that you know how to have fun,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows slightly. “And I know that you find me absolutely irresistible and cute.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“So you admit it then?” 

“What? No,” Lexa shook her head and pushed her cart down the row, looking for the place to put the next in her pile. 

But Clarke wasn’t ready to leave, and she hung around, pushing off of the shelf only to follow Lexa and hover closer than Lexa could almost handle. 

“You checked me out at Pride.” 

“I did not.” 

“You did. I saw it. And you let me know you were interested in girls. If you didn’t know yet, I’m a girl, so the math seems to be adding up.” 

“Correlation does not imply causation,” Lexa responded quickly. “Your logic is not at all close to sound.” 

“So you don’t like me?” 

“I don’t even know you. If anything, I just find your face and,” Lexa moved her hand in Clarke’s direction, “that, all, pleasing.” 

“Good to know.” 

“Who even walks around telling people that they find them attractive. It’s maddening to have that much confidence.” 

Lexa jammed the book into the shelf as Clarke leaned beside her, grinning that grin that meant she was amused. That was also maddening. All of it suddenly was maddening, and Lexa missed the quiet of her shelves and wished she could go back in time and not let herself go to Pride. Then she wouldn’t have to see Clarke Griffin. 

“I like to have a healthy opinion of myself.” Lexa snorted. “And you should have one of yourself. Want to know a secret?” 

It was the smile that did it. And the eyes. But Lexa looked at Clarke and softened somewhat. It was due to the proximity, she told herself. Nothing else that she could control. 

“Sure.” 

“I didn’t really need these books,” Clarke offered. “I mean, I could have just ordered them online like a normal person. And I live closer to the Redwood Branch.” 

“Then why’d you come here?” 

“Hard to imagine you’re the valedictorian,” she chuckled. “I came to see you.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah. I saw you at Pride and was intrigued. Thought I might feel it out a little bit.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Why not, Woods?” Clarke sighed. “I’ve got nothing but time and… well, I didn’t know you were into girls.”

“How can you be so just… How can you just say what you’re thinking?” 

“Lots of practice,” she smiled. 

“I could never imagine just… just… just…” Lexa waved her hands around slightly as she tried to explain what she couldn’t. “I couldn’t just do that. What if it went badly?” 

“Is it going badly?” 

“No, but-- wait. Maybe. What I mean is…” It didn’t help that Clarke was leaning closer and Lexa was stuck in the stacks with a girl that was flirting with her and she’d never had that before and it was way better than she could have ever imagined. “Wouldn’t ou have been embarrassed if I just ignored you or something?” 

“Oh yeah, big time,” Clarke nodded. “But my dad used to tell me to do one thing every day that scared me. Figured I’d get it done before dinnertime today.” 

She was charming and honest and refreshing and unlike anyone Lexa had ever met. It was a whirlwind. 

“I have to finish this before my shift ends,” she tore her eyes away from Clarke’s and looked back at her cart. 

“Right, yeah, definitely,” Clarke agreed. 

“I should do that.” 

“I should go check these out.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around this summer.” 

“Yeah,” Clarke grinned. “Maybe.” 

Lexa stood there as Clarke turned back toward reception.

“Clarke-- I um,” Lexa watched as she turned around. “I’ve never flirted… with anyone, really.” 

“That is surprising news.” 

She could tell from her tone that it wasn’t news, and Lexa pursed her lips and set her jaw. She stood a little straighter, steeling herself. 

“I hope I see you around.” 

“We do seem to keep running into each other.” 

With a final smile, Clarke winked and disappeared. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Standing outside of the house on the corner, Clarke looked at the perfectly trimmed hedges and the flag that hung by the door. The lawn was manicured and neat, the house was beautiful, lit up and glowing with life inside in the waning light. It was in the suburbs and insanely suburban. A tire swing hung from a giant oak. A basketball hoop hung over the garage. 

For the life of her, Clarke wasn’t sure how she ended up here, except that she made herself stand awkwardly in front of Lexa Wood’s house. Three years ago, she met Lexa as a freshman, and instantly had a crush on the girl who argued with her in history class. But Clarke also decided to avoid having a crush on the cute girl who pushed up her glasses and tried very hard to be absolutely perfect. 

She still kind of always had a crush, despite her refusal to admit it. For the past three years, Clarke tried to make Lexa smile from time to time. She’d do something stuipd and make sure Lexa was watching. 

But Pride was one of the few times in the past year they’d spoken. And Clarke was certain that now was her chance, so she took it. And after the library, she spent every day for a week and a  half showing up at the library. She brought Lexa lunch a few times, followed her around the stacks, chatting and fully developing a crush. It was easy to do. Lexa was funny, and serious, and witty, and quiet, and smart, like ridiculously smart, and she wasn’t afraid of Clarke, or intimidated. She debated her with vigor, had opinions, had plans, and more importantly, had dreams. 

Clarke knew why she was standing on Lexa’s front porch, and she knew why she was slightly nervous to knock, she just hated someone being able to do that, in equal parts as much as she craved it. 

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was good before she knocked. 

“Hey,” Lexa greeted her, smiling and pushing up her glasses as she does her best to not look winded from running to the door. 

“Hey,” Clarke sighs,  matching her grin, forgetting all of the thoughts of before. “You look really nice.” 

“Thanks. I, uh, you too. I like the black eye in particular.” 

“Oh, this?” she motioned toward the eye that had a little bruising. “Just, um. Bopped myself in the face while working out.” 

“What were you doing? Boxing?” 

“Krav Maga. My partner got a little overzealous.” 

“Goodness.” 

“I’ll try to be extra charming to make up for my disfigurement. I hope your gentle eyes can make it past my horrible appearance.” 

“I’ll do my best to look past it.”

“Good,” Clarke smiled and handed over a helmet. “Are you ready for the first date?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

They walked toward the motorcycle sitting near the curb. Clarke pressed her palm to the flat of Lexa’s back. She handed over a helmet and Lexa looked at it curiously. 

“For your protection. Have you ever ridden on anything like this before?” 

“I’ve driven go karts.”

“Not the same thing,” Clarke chuckled. “Here, I’ll help.” 

The helmet eclipsed her, but Lexa tilted it upwards so that Clarke’s skilled fingers could tighten the strap beneath it. She lifted the visor and watched Clarke work. 

“I feel like a badass.” 

“You are.” 

“Do I look the part?” Lexa asked, smiling slightly as Clarke hopped on the motorcycle and put on her own helmet. 

“Very much,” she promised, flipping down both of their visors. “Hold on tight.” 

The date wasn’t anything fancy, but Clarke was hoping it was enough. They drove to the park, with Lexa’s arms wrapped tightly around her, and she took the long way, nice and slow, just for that reason. 

The park was busy, fully of people ready to enjoy the evening and a movie. Clarke unloaded a blanket and her backpack full of snacks, fully prepared to show off her dateable skills. From what she knew about Lexa, she assumed it was her first first date, and she was going to set the bar extremely high. 

Before the movie started, they talked about nothing in particular, and Clarke was careful to get in a little teasing, which Lexa returned, smiling the entire time, challenging her. During the movie, Clarke let Lexa lay her head on her lap, and shivered because she gave her the only sweatshirt she had. 

Even after it ended, they remained, hanging out in the twilight and talking, hovering, close and unsure and happy. Later into the night, after another trip back to Lexa’s, Clarke bashfully stood on the porch and earned a hug and completely bungled the kiss, unable to read Lexa and unable to make herself that brave. 

“Did you have a good time?” Clarke ventured, leaning against the railing. 

“I really did. Thank you.” 

“Maybe we could do it again sometime.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Good.”

“Good.” 

“Great,” Clarke grinned. 

“Great.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

It was almost like a game at this point, for Lexa to stumble upon Clarke somewhere in the library during her shift. Rarely was it in the same place twice, and rarely was it when she was expecting it, though she found herself always looking forward to the smile and girl that sometimes brought her snacks. 

For the first month of summer break, Lexa didn’t even realize she’d spent most of it talking to or spending time with Clarke Griffin. It just kind of happened, and she found herself getting attached. She found herself flirting, or so she thought. She definitely found herself flirted with, which was still so wonderful. 

Clarke wasn’t what she’d thought. She was insanely frustrating and still too hot for her own good, and smarter than she wanted anyone to know, while at the same time being absolutely addicted to her moral code and her’s alone. 

In a month, Lexa learned that Clarke was not in a gang, despite everyone thinking it was a gang, but rather had a close knit group of friends that occasionally contributed to shenanigans of a disruptive nature. She learned that she was a hell of an artist, sketching things here and there, and when they ventured out on a hike or spent time lounging around, showed her sketchbook very timidly. She learned that Clarke’s father died three years ago, and that was where she disappeared to freshman year. She learned that Clarke liked to work on her motorcycle herself instead of taking to a shop because she wanted to feel closer to her father. Lexa spent an entire afternoon learning parts of the bike and helping with an oil change. 

For an entire month, Clarke pushed Lexa. She pushed her to go on dates. She pushed her to jump off of the old bridge foundation at the river when they went swimming. She pushed her to watch a few movies she wasn’t sure of. She pushed her to egg street signs for the first time ever. 

“Excuse me, but I’m looking for a book about a cute librarian who has a crush on a girl named Clarke. Know where I can find that?” 

Lexa smiled despite herself as she turned the corner in one of the farther aisles in the library’s second floor. 

“I was just thinking about you.” 

“All good things I hope.” 

“More or less.” 

That seemed like good enough for Clarke who returned Lexa’s smile. The two stood there, close in the tight aisle, but used to the proximity. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to come over tonight. We could watch a movie and you could read my essay and give a million edit suggestions. I’ll even let you use your red pen.” 

“It shows up better.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Clarke humored her. 

“I’ll be over after dinner then.”

“Good.” 

“Were you leaving already?” Lexa furrowed as Clarke shoulder her backpack and shifted instead of getting comfortable or even grabbing some of the books to help her put back on the shelves. 

“I have to see a guy about a thing.”

“Just a drive by today, and no snack?” 

“Like I would ever leave you wanting,” Clarke tsk’d as she dug in her bag and pulled out Lexa’s favorite assortment of gummy bears. “I know what you like, Woods.” 

“You’re spoiling me. I’ll have to start working out more often or I’ll be too slow for track.” 

“You’re fit. I mean, you’re--”

“Perv.” 

“Sometimes,” Clarke shrugged. 

Lexa held her bag of snacks in her hand and smiled at them softly. She saw Clarke’s shoes nearly touching her own, and when she looked up, she realized how close they truly were. But she didn’t move. She just stood there and tried to figure out what Clarke’s eyes were saying, because they were furrowed until they weren’t, and then there was a peace there, a decisive calm. 

Lexa felt a hand on her shirt, grasping it near her heartbeat. Clarke paused before she did it, waiting for Lexa to pull away, asking for permission. Only when she got it, did she lean forward and kiss Lexa enough to take her breath away. The only thing Lexa could hear was the blood thumping in her ears, but she ignored it and kissed Clarke back eagerly. 

“Thanks, Woods,” Clarke murmured after a few seconds. “I needed that.” 

“Yeah, no, yeah.” 

“I’ll see you later.” 

“Right, later, mhm,” Lexa nodded and ran her thumb along her bottom lip as Clarke moved, leaving her rooted and blushing. 

“If you liked that, we could do it more often,” Clarke offered as she walked backward out of the shelves. 

“Sounds very good to me.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

Actually, anti parabatai plot as a criticism of the oppressive regime would have been super interesting. Like they literally perform some magical ritual on minors. Moreover, it’s seen as prestigious and is highly encouraged. Moreover, if children have doubts they can’t even properly discuss them. Notice how in 2x03 Alec is left so alone he only has his baby sister to share his misgivings about the ritual. Moreover, he isn’t even happy about the upcoming ceremony. It really feels like he only ->

-> out of obligation (reminds me of ‘are you happy’, ‘yes, I’m following my duty’). Idk maybe it was indoctrinated that cancelling the ceremony once you gave your word is unthinkable, dishonourable, shameful or some other shit. Anyway, Alec didn’t look enthusiastic AT ALL. We don’t see what role Maryse and Robert played in this but they were probably their toxic selves. Besides, it’s strange to make a team out of two people so different both personality and career wise. And speaking of indoctrination, you can see children getting ingrained with this shit from the very young age. Like little Izzy may not have wanted a parabatai herself but you can see she was still affected. Jace legit said that they were gonna be REAL brothers as if something stopped him seeing Alec as such without a magical tattoo which is major yikes

EXACTLY!!! you get it!!!!!! not only that but the whole "the biggest pain a shadowhunter could ever know is losing a parabatai", "parabatai are the most important people to each other", "parabatai are in perfect tune" etc like so much shit that was straight up NOT SHOWN TO BE TRUE throughout the plot. valentine and luke were parabatai and he betrayed him, jace basically never gave a fuck about alec's wellbeing, he couldn't even tell when alec was literally dying lol also the bond isn't even that strong, like if ur away for a while or try to TRACK THEM it breaks??? and in the books robert and michael were parabatai as well and then they never talked again and robert legit straight up couldnt tell when michael DIED AND WAS REPLACED BY VALENTINE WITH A GLAMOUR like My God

my hc for this whole thing is that the parabatai thing was invented to increase sh loyalty to each other as well as their teamwork, and they made up this bunch of bullshit about it being like family and super important and their pain is your pain and blah blah blah to seem more desirable. kinda like how spartans encouraged relationships between soldiers to make them stronger? or how compulsory monogamy teaches you that the way to achieve happiness is through One Single Person who will be perfect for you always oops

actually o shit there are plenty of parallels between parabataiship and compulsory monogamy and i think i'm gonna go into that now. so mandatory disclaimer that compulsory monogamy =/= your monogamous relationship, just like heteronormativity =/= your heterosexual relationship. okay? okay. if yall come for me screaming that Monogamous People Aren't All Toxic i will ignore you because that's not what i'm saying and i just explicitly stated that. okay? okay

so i’m gonna skip the historical part because compulsory monogamy is very intimately related with the invention of capitalism, private property and etc., and that doesn’t work quite as well in the context of sh since it’s more of a military society than anything, and again, i do believe that it’s more of a “making them more likely to be loyal”/less likely to question missions and stuff thing. but the effects of parabataiship as it is constructed in sh lore are very similar to those of compulsory monogamy in real life:

the whole loyalty thing that can be very easily turned into toxicity/co-dependency/straight up abusive and unequal dynamics. again, i’m talking about monogamy as a system, not saying that all monogamous relationships are toxic, okay? if i sound insistent here, it’s because you wouldn’t believe the amount of times i put 4981749318 disclaimers like that and ppl still got offended on behalf of their monogamous relationships i wasn’t talking about

i’ll go further into that. monogamy ideology, like parabatai ideology, tells us that there’s a kind of relationship that is superior to all others and should be prioritized above all others (romantic relationships for monogamy ideology, parabataiship for parabatai ideology. compulsory monogamy and amatonormativity are more than just intimately related, they are a part of the other). this means that not putting the person you have this kind of relationship with above all others is seen as a crime and betrayal. and i’m not talking about cheating here, i’m talking about stuff such as “would you let your partner go to parties without you?”, seeing you at a place without your partner and asking where they are and why they didn’t come with you/assuming that you must have fought or broken up, considering that a relationship is doomed or not very close if its parts are not literally inseparable, turning the two parts of a relationship into some kind of almost symbiotic creature, where you stop being “A and B” and become “A-and-B” (this exact wording is even a trope in romantic fiction, esp fanfic), “would your missus let you come with us?”, having huge fights because one party wants to go somewhere and the other doesn’t and they can’t come to an agreement on that, etc., i think you get it by now

this mindset that the person you have this particular kind of relationship with should be prioritized above all others, that a part of your sense of self should be merged with theirs, that you essentially have to become a unit, and that it’s hard, but you have to fight to make it work (”love hurts”, “love is tough, it’s like that”, “if you love someone you have to make sacrifices for them”, etc) makes people feel guilty whenever they don’t put that person and their wishes above all else, or even when they want to do something without them, because that is seen as not loving them enough. not only that, but monogamy ideology promises you that once you find The One™ you will achieve a kind of happiness and perfection in your life that you couldn’t get any other way. this means that people are effectively scared of breaking up or of not having/wanting a relationship like that, because it means that they are broken and will never be truly happy (see what i meant when i said that amatonormativity and monogamy ideology are a part of each other?). that’s why you see people saying shit like “my greatest fear is to waste many years on a relationship and break up in the end”, “if you aren’t dating to get married you’re dating to get your heart broken”, etc. 

so you see people trying their damn hardest to stay loyal to the relationship even when it obviously doesn’t make them happy, feeling guilty for not being happy, and accepting toxic mindsets and abuse because they feel like they owe it to them. especially the weakest link in the relationship - notably women in monogamy ideology, as monogamy is also inherently linked with the patriarchy and in monogamy ideology specifically a woman in a het relationship is seen as more than just a part of the man she is in a relationship with, she’s seen as his property, but that dynamic can also be inverted or ruled by other factors such as race, sexuality, gender identity, class, etc. - are way more likely to be seen as owing their partners loyalty. not just that, but in particular with people who are otherwise oppressed, being loved is seen as almost a favor, because again, being in a romantic relationship is supposed to be your exclusive golden ticket to heavenly happiness and whatnot, and oppressed people (esp queer ppl and poc) as seen as undeserving of that, and effectively denied that in many ways, so they are more likely to want to stay in a toxic relationship out of fear that they won’t ever find anything better (it’s not a coincidence that “no one will ever love you like i do” is such a common phrase to hear from abusers). also, let’s not forget that even the right to break up in itself is something that had to be fought for. the feminist movement spent years trying to make divorce legal (in the places where it is) and still fights to make it be seen as acceptable. if it weren’t for other pressures trying to change the rules of monogamy, a “breakup” would quite literally not even be allowed, and this always benefits the strongest link

so now that that’s been explained, back to parabataiship. i think the parallels here are very clear - i mean, for one, you can’t really break it up, unless you purposefully use soul tracking or stay away for a long time, so it’s like, old fashioned monogamy. but more than that, breaking your parabatai bond is seen as terrifying. there is a lot of purposeful rethoric that directly says that the pain of the parabatai bond being severed (whether by will or by one of the parts dying) is unmatchable, and that plants a horrible fear into people, to the point where villains use that against parabatai shadowhunters (for example, the owl possessing jace and telling him that it’ll kill alec so he knows what the pain of losing a parabatai is like). this means that loyalty is owed, because even if you just want to be away from your parabatai, this might break the bond and put you through unspeakable pain (in theory. as i’ve been saying, it’s basically been proved that that’s not true, because when jace died that was far from being the worst pain that alec’s ever felt) 

moreover: the whole thing about how this kind of relationship is sacred, above all else, and will bring you a kind of happiness that is impossible to achieve otherwise. this is said many times - like you said, parabataiship is seen as something desirable and that brings honor. the vows are very similar to marriage (the highest pillar of monogamy) vows (“your family will be my family, your people will be my people”, “entreat me not to leave thee”), clary is constantly told that she could never understand the relationship jace and alec have because they’re parabatai and being parabatai is special and basically uncomparable to anything else, even by izzy, who never wanted to have a parabatai (and in the end she ends up wanting to, which reminds me of the whole “oh, you’ll want it once you grow up” trope with heterosexual romantic relationships. like, basically, you’ll want it once you find the right person. that is something aro, gay, and non-monog ppl hear all the damn time). the whole thing about how obviously jace is supposed to be the one alec loves the most, they’re parabatai, the whole thing about how “alec would die for me, we’re parabatai” like that is unquestionable; the souls becoming one, the being able to feel each other’s feelings and blah blah blah. in short: sacred, above all else, and, unless you do something very wrong, able to bring you a kind of connection and happiness you wouldn’t be able to get otherwise no matter how strong your feelings or your compatibility is; and once you get it, you can’t get out

and then there’s the imbalance it brings. like i said, notably in monogamy as a pillar of heteronormativity the imbalance lays on women, altho other factors can change that balance or be more prominent. with parabataiship, there’s an obvious trope of queer people getting heterosexual parabatai and being very obviously the weakest link (alec with jace, michael with robert, there are others but i don’t remember. the exception to this is luke, who is written as equally heterosexual and, in the books, equally white, to valentine, but who’s still the weakest link anyway because valentine gains power and prestige luke doesn’t have). again, the whole “alec would die for me” thing tells a lot. he didn’t say “we would die for each other”. he said “alec would die for me”. despite the rethoric being that both parts should be endlessly devoted, the expectation that one should fulfill that obviously falls harder on one than on the other. with monogamy, there’s even a kind of rethoric that you have to work for the reciprocation to be there (for example, victims of domestic abuse being told that if they dedicate themselves to their partners enough, the abuse would stop, like they owe their partners dedication and love and comprehension, and then their partners will give it back only once they get enough of it) that we haven’t really seen with parabatai (at least i don’t remember it) but that i wouldn’t be surprised to see present there. after all, alec can feel it when jace gets a papercut and jace can’t tell when alec is literally dying, and none of that is ever questioned in canon

and then the imbalance is kept because, again, breaking up parabataiship is unthinkable and shameful, not to mention kind of impossible/not allowed to do officially. so the weakest link is basically stuck in this situation of imbalance and, in many cases, toxicity and abuse, but can’t break out of it and effectively feel guilty because according to everything they’ve ever been told, they should be elated that they’ve found their one and they should be happy. if they aren’t happy, then they’re broken, or not trying hard enough, and it’s taboo to even talk about that

again, i’m not saying that all monogamous relationships or all parabataiships are toxic, okay? i’m saying that, as a structurer of our society (and sh’s fictional society) they favor this kind of dynamic, allow it, and justify it through their ideologies. in the same way that heteronormativity allied with misoginy makes it more likely for women to be abuse or r-word victims than men. is every het relationship toxic? no. is heteronormativity toxic? yes. monogamy works the same way

in short, parabataiship is not a relationship model. or rather, it is, but way before and more than that, parabataiship is an ideology that is specifically structured to subjugate shadowhunters, notably queer shadowhunters, and keep their loyalty to each other and to the clave, and most of its rethoric (nothing can ever be stronger than the love for a parabatai, nothing can match the pain of losing a parabatai, parabatai are one and the same and they share a soul) is absolute bullshit built to make it more desirable and make sure that structure is left unquestioned. a plotline that questions the buildings of parabataiship and shows how the whole myth that’s around parabataiship is that, a myth, built to subjugate and control people, would have been amazing, but of course we couldn’t get that so crumbles of meta it is

me: i’m tired of discourse in my blog i’m going to chill for now. me the very same day: what if i went on my first more detailed anti-monogamy rant when that is 100% guaranteed to attract aggressive people who can’t read and also criticized sh fandom’s beloved parabataiship all in one post?

[ladyhistorypod]

Episode 14: Thanksgiving Special

Sources:

Susan La Flesche

The History Reader

PBS: New Perspectives on the West

Hampton University

Hampton Archives

Nebraska Studies

Further Reading/Watching: PBS American Masters, Smithsonian Magazine

Sacagawea

Brooklyn Museum

National Museum of the American Indian Blog

Native Mascots And Other Misguided Beliefs (NMAI)

National Women’s History Museum

Nat Geo Kids

Ted Ed

Further Reading: Smithsonian American Women: Remarkable Objects and Stories of Strength, Ingenuity, and Vision from the National Collection, I Am Sacagawea, Sacajawea of the Shoshone

Zitkala-Sa

Utah Women’s History

Women and the American Story

Akta Lakota Museum and Cultural Center

National Parks Service

Further Reading: Women in America, Extra and Ordinary: Zitkala-Sa (Smithsonian Libraries)

Click below for the transcript of this episode!

Haley: So how old are your guys’ parents, and did you ever growing up like regard them as like the old parents?

Alana: My… so my… Here's what's really fucking me up these days, is that Joe Biden graduated from the University of Delaware the same year my dad was born. So my dad was born in June of 1965 and Joe Biden graduated University of Delaware probably like May of 1965. So that's what's making me uncomfortable these days.

Lexi: You know when my mom graduated from the University of Delaware?

Alana: When?

Lexi: The nineties. (Laughing)

Alana: So my parents, they’re like kind of old. My mom was born in 1963, but my mom is also the third of four children.

Haley: Because my mom was born in ‘69 and my dad ‘67. And Robert’s parents… I don't know exactly when they were born but I know it's in the cluster of my parents. But my mom and dad were always regarded as like the younger parents. And it came up today because my sister's boyfriend's parents have always been regarded– my mom's like oh they’re older because my sister's boyfriend, Stephen, is the youngest of four. So my mom and dad got married three days after my mom graduated from college, but they waited seven years. Like they owned a freakin’ Subway and went backpacking in Europe before having me. Like they lived their life, if you will, and then they had kids. But all my friends, like growing up, all their parents are like five to ten years older than my parents.

Lexi: So my parents got married at twenty three.

Alana: Also ridiculous.

Lexi: They were born in 1972. No shade giving my mom’s age out, but honestly she's super young. We get mistaken for sisters no matter where we go, especially if we’re with my grandmother. They tell her she has two lovely daughters. I don't know if that's an insult to me or a compliment to my mother… 

Haley: A compliment to your mother.

Alana: It’s definitely a compliment to your mother.

Lexi: My mother was invited to frat parties when she visited me in college several times.

Haley: No, your mother is smokin’ hot. Like my mother–

Lexi: She was the marching band MILF. Do you know the song Stacy's Mom?

Alana: Of course I know Stacy's Mom.

Lexi: The marching band, when we played it would sing Lexi’s mom.

Alana, singing: Lexi’s mom has got it goin’ on.

[INTRO MUSIC]

Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. by whipping sort of as always is Lexi Lexi what are you thankful for.

Lexi: I am thankful for you guys.

Alana: That’s gross. I am also joined(ish) by Haley. Haley, are you a white meat or dark meat kinda gal?

Haley: I really like– I guess like the– like a turkey leg? That’s dark meat. That’s my jam. I'm also not necessarily a turkey person.

Alana: And I'm Alana and I'm team captain of the cranberry sauce defense squad.

[Turkeys gobbling]

Alana: I don't think there is a good word for the people who were in the Americas before white people came to the Americas.

Lexi: There is not a good single word.

Haley: I also think that it's not us as non those people… 

Alana: That's the thing. And that was the conversation that we had–

Haley: And I hate that I said “those people” because it shouldn’t be “those people” but like

but like for my grad school, we have a whole section of like repatriation, NAGPRA, all that lovely good stuff in our law class. And with our history and theory class there's always like this– kinda wanna call it a symposium?– We asked the question, and I think it was my professor who posed it, because she's like I have to talk about it and I'm a Jewish white woman. I know people like have their preference on Jewish people versus Jews and I want to be able to teach the correct thing. And everyone in the room said Native Peoples just because so many different tribes or groups don't consider themselves American. So that’s what I use. And I like that the like phrase and I’m probably– someone else probably saying this but I’m gonna make it up for myself right now; just go with what you know until you're proven wrong. Because like that's what I know and like for now.

Alana: But that's the thing that we were talking about not on the podcast, elsewhere, about how like I've never heard an actual Latinx person use the phrase Latinx.

Haley: I do not consider myself–

Alana: Except for on One Day at a Time actually.

Lexi: I feel like I always go with if I need to call someone something I'm going to ask them–

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: –What they identify as, and if I don't know them well enough to have that conversation maybe I shouldn't be speaking for them in any way… Or not speaking for them, but I shouldn't be like representing them. But it's really complicated when we talk about history because a lot of the words we use didn't exist then. Like Ida B. Wells considered herself Negro, and we wouldn't… we wouldn't probably use that word now.

Haley: Well like with pronouns. We don’t assume–

Alana: Exactly.

Haley: –pronouns. So like… Because I feel very weird when people like assume like my race or ethnicity. And I identify that… I identify with being Persian or Cuban more so than being a female if that makes sense.

Lexi: Right.

Haley: I've never… it's not like I'm non– like non binary. I identify as female but I've never been like a FEMALE.

Speaker 3: I feel like with gender it's so– so easy to once you decide to do it just start using they as a default when you're not sure what someone's preference is, and there's not that for race or ethnicity. There’s not like a default word where you can say a word and not be offensive. Like, okay. It's like the thing with the Washington Redskins which is now the Washington Football Team. There were a lot–

Alana: Which is what my cousin always called it. Was always calling it the Washington Football Team.

Lexi: Actually apparently they picked that because a lot of people did just call it that. But also it's not even in Washington DC so it frustrates the crap out of me. But apparently like a bunch of people were up in arms about it that were Native peoples but then a bunch of Native peoples were like nah it's chill. And so it's like you can't say that all these people agree on something.

Haley: Yeah.

Alana: Yeah.

Haley: That's where we go back to like–

Lexi: There isn't a single hive mind of all of these people you’re trying to represent. Everyone has these own little different versions. And so, you know, what I've been told by a lot of people is like narrow it down. Like for example if you're Omaha, you’re Omaha. If you’re Hoganashone you’re Hoganashone. Because that's how they like refer to themselves.

Haley: Yeah. Yes. And I’ve heard this too. Like– I’m gonna say this. I was on Tik Tok.

(Alana and Lexi laughing)

Lexi: Honestly cultural Tik Tok is very fun. Like culture-based Tik Tok.

Haley: I’ve landed myself on what was called by this group of Tik Tok– this flavor of Tik Tok– Native and Indigenous Tik Tok.

Lexi: Yeah I've seen that.

Haley: But I noticed that for the Tik Tok-ers who are in Canada would use Indigenous.

Alana: I will never tell someone of one group that something is not anti that group because I don't want gentiles to tell me what is and what is not antisemitic, I don't want men to tell me what is and is not misogynistic, I don't want… what's my other identity? Oh, I'm queer. I don't want straight people to tell me what is and is not homophobic–

Haley: “What's my other identity?”

Alana: “What’s my other identity?”

Lexi: “I can’t remember. I’ve got so many.”

Alana: What’s my other one? I’m like marginalized in three different ways and I don’t remember what the third one is.

Archival Audio: For our clinics are all specialized. Wednesday afternoons, for instance, we only see expectant mothers. But each one is a different problem, because each one is a different person. They feel they're special, too, and always seem amazed when they discover they have something in common with the other women, but that’s natural. After all, we all think of our health problems as personal problems.

Lexi: Today I'm going to tell you the story of Susan La Flesche, the first Native American to receive a medical degree. And as we discussed, we’re not sure exact on the terms people prefer. Susan lived a long time ago and regarded herself as Native American, that’s why I'm using that term, but I understand that some people may not use that term to refer to themselves. But she identified as that, so that's what I'm calling her. So yes, she was the first Native American to receive a medical degree. Susan was an Omaha woman. Her father Iron Eyes, or Chief Joseph La Flesche, the last Omaha chief selected by traditional tribal methods, and he was the son of a Frenchman and an Omaha woman so he was half French, half Omaha. And as a chief he believed the only way to save his people was to mix elements of their culture with Western culture and for his people to get an education. And it was these beliefs that shaped Susan's future. Her mother was One Woman, or Mary La Flesche, and Susan was born on the Omaha reservation in Nebraska in 1865. As a child Susan, witnessed a Native woman die because the local white doctor would not provide her care. This event sparked Susan’s interest in becoming a medical professional, with the goal of helping Native people. She attended a school on the reservation until she was fourteen and then she went to the Elizabeth Institute for Young Ladies in New Jersey. Can you imagine being fourteen years old and traveling from Nebraska to New Jersey on a train by yourself? That’s crazy. That’s absolutely crazy.

Alana: Goals. I wanna do it. I love trains. I love trains. I wanna do it.

Lexi: So I think she must have been really brave, because it just that's… that's pretty amazing. A long trip for a little girl.

Alana: Especially as like first of all it being a young woman which is already dangerous, no matter what, and she's also from this like marginalized community.

Lexi: Yes.

Alana: That it's like double dangerous, quadruple dangerous because she was fourteen.

Lexi: Yeah. It's crazy. It's crazy. Must’ve been really really brave. And really wanted to go to the school I guess. So she went there for three years and at seventeen Susan returned home and she taught at the Mission School on the Omaha reservation. At the school, she worked with Alice Fletcher, who was a white woman who was an ethnologist who studied and recorded American Indian culture. And she came to live and work with the Omaha because of her passion for archaeology so she wanted to study living people to better understand the past, which has been–

Alana: Ethnographic archaeology.

Lexi: Yeah it's a thing that a lot of archaeologists like to do. When Fletcher fell ill, Susan helped her recover, and after seeing Susan’s skills and passions for medicine and health care, Fletcher urged Susan to travel east and pursue a degree in medicine. Susan enrolled in the Hampton Institute, which was a school in Virginia that was built after the Civil War to educate formerly enslaved people and had since become a hub for educating Black Americans and American Indians. When Susan was attending Hampton, a woman named Dr. Martha Waldron was working as a teacher and the resident physician at the school. Martha was a graduate of the Women's Medical College of Pennsylvania and suggested that Susan pursue further education there. Alice Fletcher, who had encouraged Susan to study medicine, assisted Susan by helping her apply for scholarships from the US Office of Indian Affairs and the Women's National Indian Association. In 1889, after two years in a three year program, Susan graduated top of her class from medical school. She spent one year doing an internship, which was similar to a modern day medical residency program in Philadelphia and then she returned home. At home, she became the primary care provider for about twelve hundred people, working at the reservation’s boarding school. In 1894, she married Henry Picotte, a Sioux man who had previously been traveling and working in Wild West shows. And they kept it all in the family with Susan's sister Marguerite deciding to marry Harry's brother Charles. So… that’s… that’s fun! After getting married, Henry and Susan had two sons and Susan opened a private practice which served both non white and white patients in her community. When Henry fell ill, Susan personally nursed him, all while working full time and caring for their two sons. At the age of forty, Susan became partially deaf, but kept working. In addition to being a doctor, Susan ran a children's library, worked as a Sunday school teacher, founded a quilting club, translated legal papers, and advocated for prohibition. In 1913, she opened a reservation hospital serving Omaha and Winnebago tribes. It was the first private hospital on a reservation anywhere in the country. Today, the building is a museum dedicated to tribal history and telling the story of Susan. In 1915, at just fifty years old, Susan passed away. Susan was important to her people because as aspects of their culture were taken away from them, she was able to draw a balance between traditional medicine and the practices that she learned at Western medical school. This worked because many of her people were still unsure about Western medicine, so by mixing their traditional healing practices with Western practices, she was able to develop a culturally specific plan of treatment. Her people grew to trust her and she began to be regarded as a modern medicine woman. She is a great example of why cultural representation is important and can impact public health. I also highly suggest watching the PBS video that I linked on the tumblr in the further watching. It’s super well made and it tells a really wonderful version of her story in a lot more detail than we're able to cover on our show and it has really good tie-ins to modern needs of communities like Susan's and interviews some modern female doctors and their communities which is really cool. That’s it. Short one.

Haley: I like– I like that story a lot.

Alana: I like that story too.

Lexi: Yeah there's not a lot about her like… 

Alana: Right.

Lexi: People don't record shit, so it’s mostly just her accomplishments, unfortunately.

(Audio from Night at The Museum)

Haley: So my story is about– drum roll please– the retelling of the story of Sacagawea. And for all of you who might be screaming my name right now, saying Hey I'm not pronouncing her name correctly, hold the phone we’ll get there. I first need to do my universal apologies for pronouncing any words, even historically American English words, incorrectly because we all know me; words aren't the greatest for my speech mouth. And to start us off, I'm switching over to the like I said that actual pronunciation– Saka-Gawea. And it's Sacagawea because in my research there's not a soft G in the Hidatsa language, which translates to bird woman. So side note, there are a bunch of different spellings, but if we're going based on the true like translation– Sa-Ka-Ga is bird, and it's spelled with a G. So Sacagawea is Sacajawea but just like–

Lexi: Can I just say, that's way prettier than Sacajawea.

Haley: Yeah because like for some Sacagawea it's like you have the G, or you have S. A. K. A. K. A. W. E. A, or instead of the G. it’s a J. But there's no hard – or, there's no soft Gs it's only hard Gs. And as a person who has a really hard time pronouncing things from reading because of the dyslexia spectrum that we know to love, it's gonna– it's gonna be balls to the walls bananas.

Alana: It's like… Was it the first Night at the Museum movie or the second Night at the Museum movie where she was like a character?

Lexi: The first.

Alana: The first one. And then the museum like–

Lexi, whispering: And then she fell in love with Theodore Roosevelt

Alana: Oh yeah, and then she fell in love with Theodore Roosevelt which was so… oh NO.

Haley: I’m glad you brought that up because I cut that part out.

Lexi: That’s a whole can of worms.

Alana: But like there's that whole thing about them pronouncing it wrong but it's always Sacaga-wee-ah or Sacaga-way-a, and I’m like both of you are wrong.

Haley: Glad you brought up Night at the Museum because I had a whole tangent on that but then I was like roll back Haley your notes are already long to begin with.

Alana: You cannot expect me to not bring up Night at the Museum if it is even tangentially relevant.

Lexi: I love them, I hate them. It's an incredible thing.

Haley: Yeah.

Alana: Rami Malek!

Haley: Yes he was–

Alana: My first love!

Haley: Back to the notes. So for our listeners out of the United States, you may have heard of Sacagawea, of course with the Lewis and Clark exploring the west. However, I'm sorry– not sorry– to say that there's a solid chance that what you learned was completely incorrect and I'm looking at you United States education system. All of y’all education system just– the poop garbage, dumpster fire, whatever you would like to say. But let me pause for a second and explain a little bit why that story is kind of messed up because not only do we have like a white savior complex with like Lewis and Clark, we also just have a lot of sexism. Like sexism is painted in semen here. Like all over the board. No menstrual blood whatsoever to like brighten up this dreary painting of shit. Alana’s face right now is… holy crap what is she saying.

Alana: It's just a little bit like– Lexi what's the word that I'm looking for that is like… the sentiment behind it is that not all men have semen that not all women menstruate. Do you know I mean? That's my thing with–

Lexi: There's a single word? There's a single word for that? 

Alana: There’s like a word for something… like reducing it to… whatever.

Haley: Yes.

Alana: And transphobia isn't quite right.

Speaker 1: That’s exactly why I use the phrase all semen in here. Because it's totally like heterosexual men explaining–

Alana: Cis heterosexual men.

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: The cis white boys?

Haley: Yes.

Alana: The cis white boys.

Haley: The cis white boys. However, it's a reason why the paintbrush is a phallic symbol, that’s all I’m gonna say. And while I will probably not tell the most accurate story, it's gonna be a hell of a lot better than what we've been given to because… I'm gonna be up front. There's so much more research I could have done and that's with all our stories. Like I think I put like three hours at least into like average for each story, sometimes more. I put in a lot more for this one. While Sacagawea was a Native people who symbolized peace and cooperation as she like navigated Lewis and Clark– with you know, the baby strapped on her back that like famous trope we have– through the west and like the Pacific… to get to the Pacific Ocean. There's a lot more to that story. First, because their crew was a crew of forty plus people; it wasn't just like the three of them moseying along like a hundred percent of the time, but we'll get to that. And even before then, I don't know about you guys but I never heard of like her growing up or her as an actual Native person. It was always “she’s with Lewis and Clark. Like she with the white people now,” never her life story as a whole, just this one small part, but I learned about Lewis and Clark's whole life story. And boy Howdy am I gonna talk about how she saved all their collective buttholes. So, while this story is both Native people’s legend and journals from the Lewis and Clark that we keep talking about. And we know that oral tradition it still history. So there are holes obviously with this timeline, but we know that she was born, or we think she was born in the Shoshone tribe in Idaho and was kidnapped at age twelve, possibly age ten. What I didn't know though is that when she was kidnapped– I knew she was kidnapped, but this is bad, I didn't actually know who kidnapped her, and it was a neighboring tribe. I believe it was the Hidatsa tribe? It was noted as a rival tribe. And from there she was sold into slavery and forced to marry Toussaint Charbonneau– C. H. A. R. B. O. N. N. E. A. U., we’ll go with that– a French Canadian fur trapper who had other quote Shoshane “wives.” So this wasn't… this wasn't great. Like it wasn't great to begin with, but we're just like still riding that train of yes you're not gonna tell a bunch of elementary school kids this story but let's not paint the picture and happy childhood. And in 1804, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark recruited no other than– I'm gonna call him TC, TC because I can't pronounce either of his names and I'm gonna keep fumbling on it– to be their wilderness guide. The geography of it was that the country almost doubled in size, but the history of it was the Louisiana Purchase was acquired by France.

Lexi: Acquired from France.

Haley: Yes. They were already on their expedition by the time they met up with TC and Sacagaweas. Sacagawea, who was sixteen and pregnant at the time, accompanied the men, and she was the only female of this shitshow of a shindig. And by shitshow of a shindig, this was like forty something other men with Lewis and Clark– like they had a whole rodeo. And we see this a lot that if people went on an expedition it wasn't just that group of people but they brought like their cooks, their wives, their children, people to like bring their food, i.e. like livestock because we didn't have fridges and such. So that like was not surprising to me. What was surprising was like that's a valuable teaching point, was just like to teach kids how did people move from place to place. And this is at the point where Clark notes that she was the most valuable member of their group, because although T. C. was like hired to give them like geography, he was like a noted French Canadian and a fur trapper, but noted as like he was not good at like navigating compared to Sacagawea and like the other Native peoples in the area. It was obvious and even Lewis and Clark were like “oh, she better” which she was. And she spoke both Shoshone and Hidatsa, and so she was like the interpreter for the white men, like literally. And that's the part like they got correct– and they being like the education system– that point was correct. She was interpreter, and shout out to the Brooklyn Museum for literally giving me the quote “interpreter for the group of white men”. Even the Brooklyn Museum’s not playing around. And obviously these white men weren't liked amongst the other Native peoples tribes, but when they saw a woman who wasn't considered to be a warrior– and that's like the key point– it wasn't just that they had a Native person with them. it was that she had a child with her, she spoke their language, and like didn't give off any alarm bells. Because also like there's that misconception that all Native peoples were friendly to each other. There are different like rivalries amongst tribes. That was just pure luck for them that that worked out. And so of course Lewis and Clark wanted to make their main man TC because his fur trapping knowledge and like how he knew the geography. And like I said that was… sure, he did some stuff. But Sacagawea basically said hold my beer, and she clearly knew where she was supposed to go. She clearly knew also just like the weather patterns, where to find food, and multiple occasions when they were like the Yellowstone area and it's really cold at night… we're in the parts where it's just snowing and dark for many many many parts of the winter. And she would like be able to not only like find but like somewhat grow or just like keep food in a way that like they would be able to sustain themselves with eating. So it was like a group effort by everyone. It wasn't just like Lewis and Clark being like “we got this, we’re gonna do it, we're gonna get to the Pacific Ocean in the middle of the winter.” Fast forward a bit– and there are a bunch of other stories of her being a complete badass, like diving into water when their canoe tips over and saving like all the important stuff; food, even like Lewis and Clark's journals.But we have to move forward, sadly, to the end of her expedition and just give her a well rounded story like I said. I wanted to hear this as a kid. And while the expedition ended in 1806, she kind of still knew Lewis and Clark. And let me do a side note here she did not receive payment for this expedition. Because like, yeah. That sounds like the right thing to do, I say with all my sarcastic cells in my body. There are a lot of them, by the way, so we're all doing a chorus of sarcastic singing. And three years later in 1809– another side note this is where at least my history kind of definitely has different stories, there's no concrete this is what happened…  There wasn't Snapchat recording everything, I guess. Clark invited Sacagawea and her family to live in Saint Louis and he also later adopted her son Jean Baptiste, and he called him Pompy, and a baby girl Lisette. And it's noted that she separated from T. C. who was abusive, but after this point like our timeline, we call dates in history, we know very little. And again, with this debated topic, her death is in that category. So records from Fort Manuel where like she lived there at a time, she supposedly died in December 1812 from typhus. And going off what Native peoples’ oral histories because again, oral histories are histories, she lived on the Shoshone lands in Wyoming until 1884. And regardless, Sacagawea clearly became somewhat of a legend with her own story being told by writers, filmmakers, historians in a time where women especially Native and/or Indigenous women, were absolutely thought of as weak, not helpful, and sometimes even dangerous. So you might be asking yourself, “Haley, where do I find other resources?” Obviously check out our show notes, they are quite lovely, and honestly children's books. The most recent ones were kind of on point. They're all about like– especially now in 2020. And then specifically in the show notes look at the Brooklyn Museum and the National Women's History Museum. And that is my story.

Alana: Hey National Women’s History Museum, do you want to give me an internship?

Haley, singing: Manifestation.

(Archival Violin Music)

Alana: Zitkala-Sa was born February 22, 1876, that makes her a Pisces. She's technically an Aquarius/Pisces cusp. And Zitkala-Sa means red bird in the Sioux language. She was born on the Yankton Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Her mother was Sioux and her father was white. Her father abandoned the family and initially when I see white father, Indigenous mother… that is alarm bells in my head, but she did have an older brother, so less alarm bells. Quieter alarm bells. And just as an FYI, a blanket statement, we had the discussion that we're not really sure if we should say Native or Indigenous so I kind of use both, mixing it up. If you know someone who has an opinion let us know and we’ll use that going forward. I think that's kind of a good general statement for this podcast; is correct us if we're wrong and we'll change our ways. Because that’s how you–

Haley: Correct us with kindness.

Alana: Oh, yeah. Correct us with kindness. Be nice.

Haley: We have feelings.

Alana: We can’t handle it. Don't be mean to me. At the age of eight, so 1884 she left the reservation when Quaker missionaries came to recruit for their– massive air quotes– school and it was only a school if by school you mean forced assimilation centers, but we'll get to that a little bit later. It was literally called the White’s Indiana Manual Labor Institute, and the U. S. is still racist, I'm not saying that it’s not racist, but at least we're not racist enough to let something with a name like that slide. I feel like… baby steps, little progress. Zitkala-Sa’s mother didn't want her to go because her brother had come back from a school and she didn't like it but Zitkala-Sa begged and begged because for kids who had never left the reservation, it seemed like a magical place and it sounded so cool. Her mother did eventually acquiesce because there were no schools on the reservation and she really wanted Zitkala to have an education. But she later wrote that the second she got on the train to Indiana she regretted fighting so hard for it. She was forced to cut her hair and pray like a Quaker, which she hated. Pray like a Christian is like…  that's intergenerational trauma in my heart. She actually hid from the people who were working at the school and they had to tie her to a kitchen chair and cut her hair. I don't know if it was actually a kitchen chair, I just wanted to make a Leonard Cohen reference. Hey Alana, are you Jewish? Yes. But she really did enjoy learning how to read and write and to play the piano and the violin. She was given the name Gertrude Simmons, which is a footnote that will only come up at the very end of the story. In 1887, she returned to her mother's home but she felt like she didn't belong there. And this was a common theme among children who had been sent to these– massive air quotes– schools because they felt like they didn't really belong to their Indigenous culture but they also weren't really like the white Americans. In 1895, she enrolled at Earlham College for a teacher training program and then transferred to the New England conservatory to continue studying violin. In 1900, she became a music teacher at the Carlisle Indian School but left because it reminded her of her traumatic experiences at a similar school. She basically came to the realization, she was just like “oh shit, they are designed to take our culture from us.” She was like “I couldn’t be part of that anymore.” In 1901, she published Old Indian Legends, which was a compilation of all of her previous writings and culminated in a lifelong project of translating Sioux traditions into English, because this is a quote from her from the beginning of the book, “America in the last few centuries has acquired a second tongue,” which is so shady. And I love it. “Acquired a second tongue” is just like. Mm. So also in 1901 she went back to South Dakota and took a job at the United States Bureau of Indian Affairs, which I will refer to going forward as the B. I. A., where she met Captain Raymond Bonnin, who was also a Sioux, but I couldn't find what his like Sioux name was, since he was also full Sioux, but probably not Raymond. But then they did have a son and name him Raymond so I’m not sure.I don't know. They were transferred to Utah, where Zitkala-Sa taught again, but not at a white school, at a reservation school where the children lived at home and she found that like to be a balance. In 1910, she met William Hansen who was a music professor at Brigham Young University, and in 1913 they completed The Sun Dance Opera which was about a Sioux ritual that the federal government had banned, which I think is… What a workaround. What a way to beat the system. She viewed music as a way to bridge the cultures that she was a part of and it did, and that culminated in The Sun Dance Opera. She joined the Society of American Indians, which is a group that lobbied for citizenship for Indigenous people and cultural preservation because nuance. Which is a thing that I am feeling recently. Just nuance. Tattoo it on my forehead, shout it from the rooftops. Nuance. She became the secretary of the Society of American Indians and started interacting directly with the B. I. A. where her husband worked. She was very critical and vocal of their policies because they wanted her to pray like a Christian which– (frustration noises). The intergenerational trauma, she just– she do be jumping out. And her husband was fired. Was it because of her criticism of the B. I. A? Maybe? Who’s to say? I can't say, but maybe. But they moved to Washington DC, where she started giving lectures about cultural identity and continued her work with the Society of American Indians. She even was briefly the editor of American Indian magazine. In 1924 she became active in the General Federation of Women's Clubs, which was like a women's rights group but make it intentionally diverse. It was grassroots campaigns to support women of all backgrounds, and we simply have no choice but to stan.

Lexi: Intersectional feminism.

Alana: Intersectional feminism. We love it, we love to see it, we love to see intersectional feminism like in the twentieth century, before it was cool, if you will. She started a universal Indigenous movement that led to the passage of the 1924 Indian Citizenship Act which, as the name implies, gave Indigenous people citizenship but not necessarily the right to vote because that was still up to the states. In 1926, she co founded with her husband the National Council of American Indians to continue lobbying for the rights of Indigenous people. She died January 26, 1938 at the age of not quite sixty two and is buried in Arlington Cemetery with her husband. Her gravestone reads Gertrude Simmons and then Zitkala-Sa which makes me feel a little bit weird but at least it's on there. I don't know if she like had a choice what went on there but I think it's cool that it's on there. And she was the first Indigenous woman to write her own autobiography without the help of an editor or translator because she was just good at English. She was also very anti use of peyote, which is really interesting because she was like alcoholism on the reservations is a huge problem and so we need to like do something about our ingesting of substances. It’s like all these things are about nuance which is something that I'm again I'm feeling so so much about nuance. It's something that I've been working on in therapy for like three years. That's not true, for two years. That I'm just like we can have two things that coexist– that like it would be in everybody's best interest to be an American citizen, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all of these Native people have to abandon their rituals and their culture. It’s that whole melting pot thing which is such a like when you think about a kind of a weird image… put people in a melting pot. Anyway. That’s a fun note to end on. That’s all I have to say.

Lexi: I just want to add that I think I've mentioned this before on the podcast but I worked on a project at the Smithsonian Libraries called Women in America: Extra and Ordinary. I'm the one who suggested this lady because I thought Alana would like learning about this lady, and I just want to kind of talk about a little bit why I put her in the project. The thing that I love about her is that the Portrait Gallery has pictures of her that were taken when she was quite young. I believe in her twenties.

Alana: They’re gorgeous.

Lexi: And they're beautiful because they're so like real. Like–

Alana: I think my favorite one is– now that I've mentioned it Lexi, you probably have to use it in the graphic– but it's her having grown her hair back out with her violin.

Lexi: Yes.

Alana: And it's just like how it's like… Once you know the background of that, it's like this is how she combined these two cultures by like really enjoying playing the violin and also having her long traditional hair.

Lexi: She’s just so like… It's like she could be your friend. Like she’s just a real person. And so like, I don't know. They’re good pictures. Go look at her pictures.

Alana: Go to the show notes, look at the pictures, they’re great pictures.

Lexi: And– Okay, I think– Okay, this is the root of it. I think when you see pictures of Native peoples from that time, so many times it's like they're wearing like outfits that aren't even correct for their culture and they were forced to pose in like ridiculous like customized versions of their own culture. Like I've seen ones where people who weren’t Plains Indians were put in Plains Indians’ attire for pictures. But like she's just hanging out and I really like that. I just love her. So much.

Alana: She’s so cool.

Lexi: And her name means red bird.

Alana: And her name means red bird, and Lexi loves birds. Lexi loves birds.

(Turkeys gobbling)

Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review, or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself.

Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time on Lady History.

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Haley: Next week on Lady History, we're balling with some boss bitches. Get your bags of money ready, because we’re making it rain.

Lexi: Okay. All right.

Haley: Good night!

Alana: I gotta crawl out of my closet.

Lexi: Good night!

Alana: Good night I'll talk to you tomorrow!

Lexi: Bye bye.

[bomberqueen17]

bebeocho mentioned you on a post “[…]Well darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable And lightness has a...”

@bomberqueen17 i just missed seeing them live in concert and i'm so sad about it. but! that does mean you aren't QUITE a thousand, if the indigo gals themselves are still kickin around

I don’t know if I can convey to you quite how... I mean any of the context... OK I lied, I don’t remember that song being released, but in 1994 I started as a freshman at a girls’ high school and there was a Gay-Straight Alliance club and they had Indigo Girls and Ani DiFranco lyrics on their bulletin board in the hallway, and someone loaned me a CD, and I had literally never heard of being gay before, and there were these two women singing about being queer and I did not know what that meant and I wasn’t, yet, but I wasn’t anything else either (I was really really really ace then, and did not learn the word for that until much much later, so yes I was queer but nobody understood any of it)-- anyway. I get that it’s so long ago now that it’s become a cliche and then passed back into acceptability, but.

and then four years later when I went to the UK for a year and I brought with me a bunch of Indigo Girls CDs that I by then owned, and there, I was queer (guess what demisexual means? but I didn’t know that word until at least ten years later so I just thought I’d changed and was confused), but quietly, and it was okay, a few others there were, and it was fine if you were celibate, like priests now, except you’d still get things muttered to you in hallways, but if they found you in bed with a girl, like my then-girlfriend’s mom did when we weren’t even at school but she reported it to the school for some reason, and we spent all of our winter break in isolation waiting to hear if one or both of us would get expelled over something we hadn’t even done at school (and what we were doing was sleeping, it was four in the morning and I was about to leave the country for two weeks and had to catch the early train and my girl was sick and upset and I was just asleep holding her, that was all), but I came down with mono (guess what she’d been sick with, that remains my only STD to this day) and spent a month in the student health center in quarantine and the whole thing blew over by then. And people in the administration said things like some of my best friends are gay and also said but we just don’t know what kind of example it sets and it’s for the best if you two don’t sit with each other in class and certainly don’t take her arm when you walk, that’s too provocative and that sort of nonsense. And they didn’t expel us but I spent the rest of my time at that school having things muttered to me in hallways and once, memorably, on the steps of the Uffizi during a class trip, which was mostly memorable because one of the witnesses later apologized for doing nothing at the time, which in retrospect was brave of an unrelated seventeen-year-old girl. 

I don’t think it’s that different now, but I don’t know. I’m so old, Bebe, I’m so old, and it’s so long ago now, and I’ve forgotten things I didn’t ever think I could. I hope it’s different now, but I have a feeling adolescence is a misery no matter what, and worse if you’re Different.

Oh my gosh in my head the track rolled over to Secure Yourself, I don’t even remember the name of the CD but I definitely remember the track order. 

fasten up your earthly burdens you have just begun

[eldritchsurveys]

285.

1. Do you currently feel like you have pretty stable career goals/a pretty stable life plan? Have you ever felt this way? >> I, personally, don’t bother with stable life plans. I’ve spent most of my life in variable conditions, either because I was a minor and subject to the whims of the people responsible for me, or because I was a transient with no stable place to live. So my mind doesn’t really do “life plans”. I leave that to Sparrow, that’s her thing. 2. How do you react when you have taken on too much responsibility? >> That... doesn’t usually happen to me, I don’t know how I’d react. 3. Would you rather spend a day amongst your peers and superiors while wearing no makeup or share an anonymous nude photograph of your body from the neck down online? >> What???? I mean, first of all, I don’t wear makeup anyway unless it’s purely for fun, so the first scenario describes my normal existence. I guess that means I’m choosing that one by default??? 4. What is a classic look for you, that is your go-to fashion ensemble? Please feel free to share a picture! >> A classic look for me is a band shirt and jeans/UFO pants. 5. Is there a song where you like the verse but it’s the chorus that you can’t stand? >> Yeah, I was thinking the other day about how the rest of Hozier’s To Noise Making (Sing) is okay but the chorus just drives me insane.

6. Is there a band/musician that seems to be well-known but for some reason you were never exposed to them as well as others? >> That describes most older rock bands. I didn’t know who Led Zeppelin was until I was like 21. I could have sang you a bunch of Temptations and Chi-Lites and Anita Baker hits, though.

7. Has there ever been a time where you thought you wouldn’t want any new friends, even if you struck it up with someone interesting? Why wouldn’t you want new friends? >> I mean, at this point I’m kind of over the whole concept. I’m tired of feeling like an incomplete person because I can’t keep a friendship, so I’m going to go back to unabashedly enjoying my own company like I normally would if society didn’t convince me that my loneliness was going to kill me someday. (Protip: stressing out over the so-called Loneliness Epidemic(tm) is definitely more detrimental to my health than just... adjusting.) And if I happen to meet people who are willing to be in my life, then sure, great! But you can’t force that and I’m not going to try. 8. If you could buy an android that was was convincingly human and could be tailored to be your perfect partner, would you want one? >> *pulls out wallet* All right, name your price. 9. What is a book that you have started but not finished more than once? >> Fuck, I know there is at least one but I can’t remember it now. 10. Have you ever told someone they were a terrible person? What would someone have to do for you to say such a thing? >> I don’t think I’ve ever used those specific words, no. I’m not sure what someone would have to do in order for me to call them that. I prefer more specific adjectives, ones that actually mean something. 11. If you do not identify as being “straight,” can you remember back to your childhood some things you did that were, in hindsight, possible indicators of your future sexuality? >> Meh, I don’t bother with that anymore. I don’t need my childhood history to lay out a bunch of glowing breadcrumbs that lead directly to queerness. I’m who I am now, and whether that does or doesn’t jive with who I was before is really pretty irrelevant. 12. When you consume media (movies, books, etc) with a romantic element, what sort of romance scenarios interest you most? >> Hmm. Honest ones, I guess. Deception and coercion are my least favourite parts of romantic plotlines, and they feature pretty heavily in most. 13. Have you ever read a book or watched a movie that affected you so negatively you wish you had never consumed it? Would you actively dissuade others from consuming it? >> Nah. I mean, I’ve had some pretty shaky experiences, but nothing that made me think “I wish I’d never seen/read that”. Like, mother! gave me an anxiety attack but that... wasn’t exactly a deterrent. I tend to rate movies based on their effect on me, no matter how the effect manifested. mother! had an intense effect on me and I think that means something, considering how many movies I watch that have very little, if any, effect at all. 14. Can you think of an issue that you have a strong position on and name one instance where you might make an exception? Think of specific policies/actions and not the underlying ideologies (e.g., the death penalty not “fascism,” or eating meat not “animal cruelty”). >> I’m having a difficult time parsing this question, and I probably wouldn’t have much of an answer even if I did parse it correctly. 15. If you are female, do you feel connected to other women as a class? What sort of things make you feel a strong sense of sisterhood or female empowerment? >> ---

[argotmagazine-blog]

Dear Worrier Princess: On Polyamory Pickles and College Coming Out Conundrums

Queery #1: Last summer I (32, queer) met someone (26, baby dyke) at the farmers market near my house, she lives in a town 2 hours away near the farm she works at. We started hanging out as friends and realized we had giant crushes on each other. We saw each other on & off through the winter. Now it’s April, & we really like each other, and have had fun sex a couple of times. The thing is: she says she doesn’t want a relationship—she’s busy farming, working 60+ hrs/wk and can’t commit to being in touch or making time to visit me. She also says she’s still processing her last relationship (5 yrs! her first queer relash!) so she needs to figure some stuff out. I totally get it. However, her actions are different from her words: she stays in touch a BUNCH and when we are together, she says a lotta stuff that feels VERY girlfriendy to me.

We both have established that we love hanging out, we feel fun and comfortable, we care a lot about each other, and we learn a lot from each other. I feel a lotta love between us although we haven’t said ILY but rn it doesn’t feel like we need that. For me, I really like her, I love hanging out w her. At the same time, I DO want to be in a relationship, but I don’t think a monogamous long-distance relationship would work for me. If I’m going to date someone I have needs! and want to have a lot of sex!! And only seeing someone like every other week *at most* doesn't feel enough, and if we’re monogamous, maybe there’d be a lot of pressure on those times to have a good time.

She is not comfortable with polyamory, specifically with me having sex with other people in the same time period as with her.  My question is about ethics, tact, care, and timing:: Should I break up with her now, knowing that inevitably I will be boning some local person? There is no one else in the picture right now but I would like to be dating people; I also really don’t want her to feel like a “placeholder,” you know? That would feel like a shitty dynamic.  Or, should we continue to “love each other while we can”? We’ve tried being just friends before and it was sad, there��s like this string that keeps wrapping each other together. Should I keep hanging out with her until it gets to a point where I am seeing another local person and want to bone them too? I’m feeling stuck between a rock & a hard spot, & it feels like an ethical decision which i don’t have the answer for. I want to be responsible and not be a douchebag.

I did not expect to see the words “she lives in a town 2 hours away” followed by “long-distance relationship.” As a lesbian from the Midwest, I have driven two hours for really good beef jerky and that is NOT a double-entendre. Two hours is not long-distance in my book, but I digress. We’re talking about you, not me and my horndog travels.

You’re in a pickle—an organic, free-range pickle from the farmers market, but still a pickle. You want an open relationship. Your farm boo does not. You want to spend more time together, but she’s overwhelmed by a semi-recent heartbreak and intense farming schedule. Neither of you are willing to compromise. This is a situation I see all the time here at Dear Worrier Princess: two people recognize that fundamental aspects of relationship aren’t working, but they stay together because the relationship is familiar and has redeeming qualities like good sex, rapport, or mutual love and care.

To be honest, it sounds like your farm boo is someone who wants what she wants when she wants it. The following sentences set off some alarms for me: “she can’t commit to being in touch or making time to visit me” followed by “she stays in touch a BUNCH and when we are together, she says a lotta stuff that feels VERY girlfriendy.” This is a boundaries issue and it’s 100% something you should discuss with her. Say something like, “It’s confusing for me when you say our relationship is one way, but then you text me frequently and say things like [EXAMPLE 1] and [EXAMPLE 2].” Similarly, you keep deciding to be friends and sliding back into romance-territory. This doesn’t mean you’re fated to be together, it means you need better boundaries and a solid chunk of time without any contact. I’m also wondering, during these stretches when you’re supposed to be friends, who escalates things? Who sends the first sext? Might be something to think about.

Is it wrong to date someone you don’t want to be with forever? No. I think most relationships fall into this camp. As long as you’re mindful not create a placeholder dynamic (which I interpret to mean becoming a dismissive or callous partner), it’s fine to see an end on the horizon. However, it’s never as simple as, “we’ll just date until things naturally end.” Even in the best of circumstances, breakups are hard. What if you meet someone available and local, but you’re still raw from the breakup? What if you struggle to establish post-breakup boundaries with your farm boo and this causes tension in your new relationship?

My advice is to set a course towards friendship, though I also understand how difficult it can be to end a relationship without the solid impetus of a fight or someone new. Ask yourself: if I end this relationship now, will I regret not spending more time together? If I keep seeing her, will my feelings become stronger and make it more difficult to separate? Is the agony is worth the ecstasy? Only you can decide.

Queery #2: Last semester (my first semester of college) I was pretty into this girl I thought was straight or at least very closeted. Almost immediately after returning to school after winter break we both got very drunk and ended up hooking up that night. Since then we've continued to see each other and the relationship seems to be getting more and more serious; however, only as long as we are in very private spaces. The only people who know about it are my friends and her friends all seem to believe that I am tragically in love with her, a straight girl. I have never been in any sort of serious relationship, I only first hooked up with a girl last semester but I've been out and open about my sexuality with those close to me for the past three years. I've tried to initiate conversations with her about this, which is hard as she freezes up with any sort of difficult topic that requires talking about ones emotions. We've gotten a little better at these conversations lately and it seems like she also wants a more serious relationship and wants to be able to be more public about it. In the past few weeks she has told one of the people she is living with as well as a close friend but it still seems like we're stuck in this strange place. I don't want to pressure her to do anything she feels very uncomfortable doing and I also recognize that feeling like I am, in a way, going back into the closet to be there with her is unhealthy for me. How do I keep my frustration for our current situation from clouding the good parts, if that's possible? Lately this is about all I think about or want to talk about and I find myself often getting stuck on these negative aspects. How can I best support her without damaging my own wellbeing?

While reading this queery, I realized that my first semester of college was TEN YEARS AGO. My mom drove me to Staples to buy an ethernet cable because my my dorm didn’t have wifi—that’s how we lived in 2009. I can confirm, in extreme retrospect, that your first year of college is overwhelming. It’s no small thing to leave home for the first time, make new friends, and balance coursework/relationships/a job. And then, on top of all that, your girlfriend is smacked with her own queerness and everything it entails. It’s a lot!

It doesn’t help that “coming out" is one of those those terms like “hooking up” or “middle class”—we pretend it’s this definite thing, when it actually means something different to everyone. As a femme lesbian, I come out to new people when it feels safe and pertinent. My butch friends, on the other hand, rarely get to come out on their own terms. Some people take years to come out, others make a snap decision and tell the world via Facebook. I have friends who are openly gay in the United States, but are closeted to their parents and extended families in their countries-of-origin. Sometimes I get DMs from women who say Instagram is their only queer outlet because marriage and other life circumstances make coming out impossible. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I meet a lot of young people who grew up in affirming homes and were exposed to queer adults and culture at an early age. All this to say that I totally agree with you: you can’t pressure your girlfriend to come out before she’s ready. I applaud you for recognizing that her life and decisions are hers and hers alone.

None of this changes the fact that your relationship makes you feel Bad. When you’ve escaped the deep closet, dating someone who’s struggling with self-acceptance can dredge up all sorts of insecurities and painful memories. It feels shitty to be someone’s secret; it implies that your sexuality is shameful and wrong. Like, have you ever had a friend who body-shamed themselves constantly and said stuff like “I’m so fat and disgusting”? Even though their comments aren’t directed at you, you come away feeling self-conscious and weird. Shame is contagious like that.

All relationships require compromise, but how do you know when you’re compromising too much? What do you owe yourself and what do you owe your partner? I ask myself these questions all the time. Kind of recently, I dated someone who habitually snapped at me. Like one time, we were walking dogs in a snowstorm and I joked that I could kick snow over the poop and it would be the perfect crime. They were full-on like, “THAT WILL CONTAMINATE OUR WATER SUPPLY.” It stung. Despite all this, I liked them a lot. I was in extreme cuffing mode and really, really wanted to be in a relationship. We talked it over and I left the conversation feeling hopeful. They acknowledged their outbursts and apologized, but the snapping kept happening to varying degrees. I could still feel the worst part of our relationship wearing me down. I kept second-guessing myself: “am I annoying? Am I difficult to spend time with? Is everything I say stupid and destructive to Wisconsin waterways?”

I turned to a friend for advice. L, who recently ended a complicated and bittersweet relationship, had the perfect response. I’m going to leave you with the text she sent me: “It’s your choice to stay in an imperfect relationship. Just make sure you’re staying because y’all are communicating openly and making the necessary changes. Stay cause you have a plan and solid reasons to believe things will get better, NOT cause you’re afraid of hurting her or afraid of being alone.”

dear worrier princess answers your qs about love and strife in relationships in this complex and modern queer world.

shoot an email to worrierprincess@argotmagazine.com or fill out the form below.

Maddy Court is an artist and writer based in Madison, WI. Keep up with her on Twitter @worrierprincess, or on instagram @xenaworrierprincess.

 All illustrations for this column are done by Sid Champagne. Sid is a freelance illustrator based in Baltimore by way of the Gulf Coast. You can find them on Twitter @sid_champagne, or Instagram (more cat pics) @sidchampagne

[thedogsled]

Who Tube (Doctor Who YouTube) is hilariously terrible at the moment. You’ve got new fans being gatekept by old fans and then yelling at the old fans and then the old fans yelling back, people subtweeting each other on their channels “Some YouTubers, they know who they are”, people posting vicious rants as soon as episodes end--lots of really really toxic shit on both sides. Like. It’s hilarious--if you enjoy VERY thinly veiled misogyny on one side and blind adoration for progressiveness at the expense of decent writing on the other. If you listen to these people, it’s not very difficult to see where the canon schism between straight white “geek culture” males and anyone with a so labeled by said people SJW motivation come to blows. They both think the other side is just ignorant, and the constant lashing out is just. Wow. It’s really. Wow.

Saltiness ahead.

It frustrates me a lot, because I feel the show has been really hit and miss this season and the warring on YouTube is just another example of how you just can’t discuss this reasonably. It’s not all bad, but it’s certainly been far from all good. Some of it REALLY works, like for example Ryan’s dyspraxia and the decision to explore Yasmin’s character through her grandmother’s story, but some of it doesn’t. I was particularly dismayed today, spoilers, by James I being played through the lens of modern campness by Alan Cumming this week, turning the former monarch into a queer caricature (I know the guy most from his role in Spy Kids, Fegan Floop, which replays ENDLESSLY on british TV). I feel like a lot of the episodes of this season have been simply the characters thrown into chaos, bad guy is revealed to be an alien, then the Doctor gives a shockingly profound, emotional speech that makes you forget how awful some of the other parts were and you go away with ~feels~ and not much else, because all the endings are pulled out of the writer’s ass anyway. Just. That’s how I personally saltily feel about this show this season, like it’s been platforming for a bunch of different writers saying what they want to say about humanity through the Doctor’s mouth. Like she’s ceased to exist beyond her existence as that mouthpiece, and that in some ways the show has too. (just my opinion. anyway.)

But you can’t talk about this stuff. I find myself reading reviews and watching people who like the show and place no accountability on the show beyond being politically bold, and it drives me nuts. It doesn’t matter what form it comes in, so long as it’s pro-feminist, or it exposes people to history they might not have learned in class, or there’s a dude giving birth for 50% of the airtime. If I want to hear or discuss any challenge to those things, I find myself listening to purely negative reviews instead, and noping out when the person suddenly reveals halfway through that they believe that because men aged 18-40 is a big demographic, it only makes sense that they’re the group that are kowtowed to at every opportunity. Like wtf dudes, sorry you can’t hack that other people exist in the world and you aren’t being catered to 24/7 any more. Fuck off. So it’s no wonder the antis feel Doctor Who lovers are all SJWs and the pos!Who people are convinced that the antis are all racist misogynist fucks. (The showrunners do too afaik, and that isn’t helped at all by Chibnall and Jodie both being SO resistant to negativity that neither of them seem to be soliciting fan feedback that isn’t positive.) Is it hard to ask for objectivity, though? For something that comes down the middle? That isn’t racist and misogynistic, but maybe still cares about how the things we’re looking for in terms of representation are being handed to us? How about, at least, not having to listen to some people who are so entitled that they literally think that Jodie Whitaker shouldn’t have shot out any babies so that she can instead devote her entire life to making TV shows? (Seriously, I listened to one girl who thought that, and you could hear her contempt for people who have kids in every syllable.)

I’ve liked episodes of this season. The Kablam! episode was great, I only had minor complaints with the ep that I handwaved away because I felt like there was actually some dramatic tension. I liked episode 2 because it was idk. A fun adventurous romp and the characters all had flaws. I quite liked Rosa because it had the bones of something better, and that showed through in all the scenes where Rosa’s actress (Vinette Robinson, who was also in the Chibnall episode ‘42′, btw what nepotism how many british actors do you think there are?) interacted with the other characters. 

But they weren’t all perfect, at least to me. Maybe I’m a negative nelly, because everyone seems to be tripping over themselves to scream positivity about the show in their reviews, but I, personally, feel like much of it has fallen flat. When they did finally drop - as they’ve been avoiding for much of this season - the ‘If I was a bloke this wouldn’t have been a problem’ thing, it wasn’t even delivered with a great deal of gravity or purpose. Maybe some people think that was a good thing, I don’t know, but looking at the way sexism was handled in Timeless, for example, and hell, Sliders (which was a trashy 90s show about jumping between alternate realities; or Quantum Leap for that matter, which had Sam jump into the lives of women in the past and experience days in their lifetimes), it’s way past the era of TV to deliver that kind of line like it’s inconsequentially drawing attention to something nobody noticed before, you know? Why is the BBC always 100 years behind, despite playing like it’s the most progressive thing ever? Why do we let it, and say “Sure we’ll take it, that’s enough” instead of also insisting they tell GOOD stories, and not wave their hand and say aliens did it at the end of every episode? I get it’s a time traveling series but the aliens show up and then the doctor waves her magic wand and ~science~ and yes she quoted Arthur C Clarke but she can do that and be powerful and tell powerful stories that aren’t completely...halfhearted, and if you don’t have trumped up stupid bad guys you don’t have to have flimsy solutions for beating them at the end.

We SHOULD be seeing ourselves in the media we’re absorbing. I firmly believe that. I also think, though, that we’re entitled to be respected by that media as well, in that the stories we’re seeing that show US should be good stories. They shouldn’t be concentrating on making as many nods as possible to as many corners of culture as possible that it stops caring about the story it’s telling, because whatever politically correct points it scores will ensure people overlook its flaws. It’s disrespectul, and we shouldn’t allow it, because it means we’re nothing but a commodity, an unquestioning storyblind audience that just doesn’t care so long as our representation needs are getting catered to. That means we’ll keep getting more representation, but a lot of it will be shit, because no matter what we’ll throw up our hands and give it ten out of ten and rigorously defend it no matter what caricatures it throws in front of us.

We should demand better stories alongside our representation. Fandom is so powerful now that we’re being written for, because as a whole we aren’t objective. We engage in mass squeeing, we’re GREAT at giving positive feedback and high ratings like it’s our job to do it even if it’s undeserved (and arguably Who NEEDED that positive feedback this year) and best of all anyone who doesn’t agree can be written off as an angry white dude, or racist, or just ignorant. That’s good for ratings and good for clicks, and networks eat that stuff up because it makes them money. But that isn’t respect, and we shouldn’t be selling ourselves out for a bargain basement price.

That’s my last word on it for now. I’ll probably complain again next week, and I know I KNOW this isn’t a popular pov for people, but I’ve made my bed with that. For those of you who loved it, I’m glad for you. I’m mostly disappointed for myself. And I still think camp James I was fucking terrible but I already know people love him, so what do I know?

P.S. my tags are for my flist so they can blacklist properly, not to force my saltiness down the throats of other Who fans. You don’t have to agree with me. I just needed to vent.

[ranchonmysteak]

My issues with DITF: My first thoughts

The anime community has been sort of amping this anime up and I’d heard it was like super deep and interesting but it dropped off in quality in the last few episodes. Due to raving nature of the reaction surrounding until the last 2-3 episodes, I was naturally intrigued by this anime. What exactly caused the positive reaction and how had the last few episodes caused such a violent response? (by the way, this rant will be very disjointed and I might clean it up later... If you haven’t watched this anime, you will get very confused.)

I watched the first few minutes and right off the bat, I’m already disappointed. It starts off with a monologue by Hiro, the main character, about a species of bird (this is a plot point later but literally no one cares for now) that requires a male and female to be able to fly. If you couldn’t already tell, this is an analogy for the way the mecha are piloted in the anime and gives off the impression that this anime will be analysing how relationships work. 

Now, on to my disappointment: Why did this piss me off? 

First off, it’s an incredibly unhealthy expectation of a relationship. It doesn’t really work that way. It’s fine not to have things completely work out in the beginning but one should never have the expectation that a romantic relationship will save your life and if you don’t, you will literally die. Hiro’s words, not mine. He’s not wrong, either. After all, to pilot a mecha in this series, you should have sex! (wow, it’s not like you could just have sex outside a relationship) Shipping off teenagers to have sex to save the world and we don’t even really know if they’re into each other is not problematic at all!

Secondly, it’s heteronormative. You might say,”oh, but it’s Japan. No shit” and I’d like to say that’s racist. Anime and manga are 100% completely able to discuss queer issues. In fact, the studio also created Little Witch Academia and you’d be hard pressed to find someone deny that Diana Cavendish is, at least, a little gay for Akko. Furthermore, this is anime where relationships are discussed and to sort of hamfist a heteronormative moral isn’t great. 

I continued watching and found that it was completely boring. I am not kidding when I say I probably accidentally skipped half the episodes just because I was thinking of the better anime I could watch. Jesus Christ. One episode had the girls be really angry at the boys for ogling them which, if you watched anime in the early 2000s, have probably heard of this plot line. It’s about as boring as you could imagine and more!

Side note: how many times has a female character, who has not been established as a pervert, ogled men? It’s a very weird convention than women’s (weirdly enough, straight women get the brunt of this but I watch yuri more often so it might just be me) sexualities get brushed off. 

For an anime that is obsessed with sex, it seems really bad at sex ed. It literally only shows one position (missionary) and never quite talks about kink, safe sex and consent, which is wager is incredibly important to educate teenagers on.  Sadly, the creators are likely only interested in selling Zero Two figurines to a bunch of horny anime fans who will eat anything up so they don’t give a shit about that.

Which is another thing the anime community duped me on. 

They kept mentioning Freud and really interesting sex comparisons (really, it’s about as basic as a 7th grade biology lesson) so I thought that this anime would have something interesting to say about sex. It did not. It may have been more sex positive than other anime but given the characters are technically married (the first episode had allusions to marriage), it probably isn’t extremely sex positive and more creepy. Power to them, I guess.

However, that’s not my point.

My point is that I’m sick of people throwing out references and pretending that means they are very enlightened and they are very interesting! References should have a purpose and be a narrative device in the story. One example that does this well is Flip Flappers. It references ojou type women which were a staple in Class S yuri manga, which the show obviously carries some influence because it is also yuri. The women are perfect and prim and the world is equally perfect and prim. However, the catch is that the world resets at midnight and the day repeats itself ad infinitum. This is a clear parallel to old yuri conventions where lesbian relationships must adhere to traditional Japanese conventions of femininity and stop by graduation. By having the characters fight against this is a statement that this anime will not trivialise the characters’ sexualities and refuses to compromise to homphobia. Here, the reference has a use.

In DITF, there is no use apart from short hand that the robots rely on sex.

That’s it

Speaking of lesbians, there was a lesbian character, Ikuno, who is completely in love with Zero Two, the main love interest for Hiro (because of course). Of course, the robot doesn’t work when the two of them are together because of their incompatible sexualities. Which would be a statement if it weren’t for the fact this character could clearly work with men in the mecha even though she is explicitly lesbian so the point is sort of moot and the sentiment was lost.

She did get a girlfriend, which is cool, I guess.

There was also a bi male character but because his bisexuality is so vague, it almost doesn’t count as representation.

Also, the ending has Zero Two and Hiro die for each other which would be tragic if it weren’t for the fact that the two are unable to function without the other. Again, the anime glorifies an unhealthy and toxic relationship and the fact DITF doesn’t even acknowledge that is worrying given that it’s explicitly about relationships and there are hardly any media which discuss just how hurtful being in this type of relationship is.

[blackpythongeni-blog]

Young, Black, and Gay: Navigating My Queerness in the 21st Century, A-Z

Inspired by Audre Lorde’s Zami: A New Spelling of My Name, Chapter 23

AC/DC

‘We were part of the “freaky” bunch of lesbians who weren’t into role-playing.’ (Audre, Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name, 178). I’m pansexual and I still get strange looks and opinions from my lesbian friends. Femmes are a little more accepting of me liking men. Studs, however, are more likely to be turned off. Audre Lorde said during her time women like me, who didn’t adhere to role-playing, were called AC/DC or Ky-Ky, prostitutes basically.

Black and Beautiful

I’m grateful to live during a time where I’m able to be more secure in my blackness, to think of it as beautiful. Audre Lorde, although I’m sure she loved herself and her blackness, wasn’t as fortunate. To live during her time as a young black woman must have been a constant act of self-love. “Diane was fat, and Black, and beautiful, and knew it long before it become fashionable to think so.” (Lorde, 177).

College

“I realized in profound shock that someone else besides me in the Village gay-girl scene was a closet student at one of the Uptown colleges.” (Lorde, 177). College and the Village gay scene was starkly separate in Lorde’s time in New York. In Ann Arbor, it’s completely acceptable to mix the two; that’s the only way I was able to finally come out.

Downtown

There are two places in Downtown Ann Arbor that I know of that have gay nights, Necto and Candy. Necto has gay nights every Friday, Candy every Thursday. Near Downtown Detroit, there’s a gay bar/club called The Woodward.

Eight Street

Audre says they were “the invisible but visible sisters”; they acknowledged their common identities as lesbians by passing and not speaking. I’m not really sure who’s queer or not when I’m walking down the street. I myself don’t “look” queer, as I’m told. I mostly use Tinder or HER to find black queer women near me anyways.

Flee

Flee and Lorde were the only black lesbians in Lorde’s circle. She says they often found themselves sleeping with other women, mostly white women. Most of my queer friends say they prefer white women. When I see their Tinders, the lack of black matches is disturbing to me. That means I’m not getting enough right swipes. Maybe that’s why my matches are so low.

Gay

Audre Lorde says she’s gay. She often conflates the term with lesbian in her writing. I don’t actually use the term to describe myself. I much more prefer the term queer, although I’ve found I have more interest in women than anyone else. I guess maybe I’m gay or lesbian, but queer doesn’t sound as definite to me.

Hostile To Us

I haven’t been met with hostility, yet. I think it’s because I’m privileged in the way I look.

I Was Stylish Enough to Be Noticed

I very carefully select my Tinder and HER pictures. The clothes, the makeup, and the hair is all important when deciding which ones to upload. Tinder also lets you upload a snippet of your favorite song. That too determines the style of my page and whether or not I’ll get right swipes.

Junkie Friends

There’s this stereotype that people in the queer community are junkies. Apparently we smoke and drink a lot and party is a word that should be all too familiar to us. I don’t like to party, I don’t do drugs, and I prefer Netflix at home. This is also the case for the majority of my queer friends. We don’t go out nearly as much as Lorde describes of her own young life. Not nearly.

Ky-Ky

I heard this term for the first time in my Queer History class, a class I took because I met my professor at a cafe last semester and thought she was great. I read it again in Zami: A New Spelling of My Name. It’s also my cat’s nickname.

Land of Black People

Only my immediate family knows that I’m queer. It’s still not openly accepted in the black community. I still get hit on by men who aren’t even aware of my sexual identity, and they probably wouldn’t respect it if they were. I’ve seen my stud friends get hit on, even though obviously they aren’t interested in men. It’s like navigating a field of mines.

Muff-Diving

I’m not even sure what this really means. If I could ask Audre Lorde, I would. What is a muff and why are lesbian women diving? What’s the modern equivalent?

Not Enough of Us

There’s really not a lot of openly black queer women in Ann Arbor, that I know of. This can get lonely. Lorde says there weren’t enough in her community, too. I wonder if she would have liked Tinder to help with that.

Our Fewness, Our Rarity

It still really bothers me that there aren’t a lot of us out here. Sometimes I want to talk about my queerness without feeling like a freak or bother among my straight friends. I’m not even asking for most of the time. We’re even rare on Tinder, although it does provide some relief.

Perhaps Our Strength

However, like Audre Lorde suggests, maybe our strength is in our rarity. The connections and sisterhoods I have created are strong and loving and extraordinary.

Queer

This term was used mostly among middle class white gay men back in the day. Then it became derogatory, and now we’ve adopted it again. I like the word and I like to use it to describe myself.

Recognized Ourselves as Exotic

Everytime a white woman shows interest in me, it’s quite fetishy. They have this persona that’s a complete dupe of black men’s harmful cis hypermasculinity, as if to say this is what I want as a black woman. If I wanted to date a sexist black man, I would date a sexist black man. I don’t need or want that in a woman. What a turn off.

Straight Black Girlfriends

My girlfriends are extremely supportive of me and my identity. I think it has a lot to do with the time that we all grew up, much more open-minded. Lorde’s friends seemed to tolerate her loving women. I couldn’t imagine having to deal with that. I would simply not have straight friends. To tolerate a person isn’t friendship at all.

To Look Femme

I don’t intentionally try to be labelled as femme. I don’t intentionally try to look femme. I like other femme women. I like women in general, whether they’re femme, stud, stem, or none of the above.

Usually White Women

Turns out white women are usually the ones who get the most right swipes on Tinder. They’re usually the ones who black women choose to engage with sexually, first. They’re usually the gateway, at least for the black women I know, into the queer scene. That wasn’t the case for me and I feel confused and disturbed that white women are usually the face of desirable femme queerness. Am I not cute too? And don’t us having similar experiences as black women make me a better candidate in understanding you as a person?

Village gay-girl

The Village, to me, seems like it has been recreated as a paradise for queer people. However, in my Queer History class, there are a lot of disparities between white and black queer people. While Lorde suggests an active sex life with white women, which I’m sure is true, I can’t help but think about how difficult being black and queer in the Village was.

We Discovered and Explored

I’m still discovering and I’m still exploring. Like Lorde: sometimes in secret, sometimes in defiance, most times for myself.

Xpression

X is a difficult one. So is deciding how to express my desires, even in the queer community. I feel as though, on all sides, I’m met with discontent.

Your Black Brothers

I’m starting to realize I actually don’t like men. Maybe in a platonic kind of way, but I don’t foresee myself marrying one, sharing a family with one, or spending the rest of my days with one. I appreciate men; specifically I appreciate the sacrifices and care and love the black men in my life have done for and shown me. But I take the phrase of Black Brothers literally: you’re like my brothers.

Zami

Audre Lorde is such an inspiration. I think it’s quite funny, interesting, and disturbing I can relate to her more than half a century later. You’d think there would be progression made for black queer women. For us to have less difficulty navigating our lives, finding acceptance, love, and happiness. I appreciate her experience, however; sections of this book have made me reflect a great deal on my journey: past, present, and future.

[pretendpapi]

No Apologies for Queer White Tears

By Faith Cheltenham

Delivered as a keynote address to the 2016 BlaQOUT Conference at UC Riverside on April 9th, 2016.

White tears is a term that has a startling effect on white folks. Developed over time to describe the phenomenon of white people being upset at the very act of discussing race, it’s evolved into a funny yet, extremely effective way to describe white people’s discomfort in discussing the very racism they perpetuate. One of the earliest articles available online about white tears written by a person of color is the 2007 College Student Affairs Journal article “When White Women Cry: How White Women’s Tears Oppress Women of Color” by Mamta Motwani Accapadi. In the article, Accapadi describes a case study of a white woman bursting into tears when being pressed by a woman of color about diversity resources at the college that employs them both. Instead of working on the issues affecting students, the case study states that the rest of the meeting was spent consoling the white woman about her white tears. So it’s white tears I immediately thought of last July, as I sat talking to Kathryn Snyder about white folks interrupting Black people to tell us about their own racism, when what do you know? A young Tearful White Woman (let’s call her TWW for short) interrupts us to ask, “Can we talk? Just talk as people? About race?” Her friends tried to pull her back and whisper in her ear but TWW was inebriated and loudly whispered back “No! I get to ask! I get to ask!” I told her, “You can ask, but I am not required to answer you.”See, I’d never met this particular TWW before, and neither had Kathryn Snyder, an amazing Black bi+ queer organizer everyone should know (that’s her on the right with the triangle earrings). We were all of us, tearful white people included, at the 2015 Netroots Nation convention in Phoenix, back in July where a whole bunch of Black folks experienced a whole bunch of racism. You know, like they do most months.The kind of racism where white liberals you’ve never met before are suddenly touching your face without asking in their best petting paternalism, or the kind where you repeatedly turn a corner to find a Black girl sobbing but surrounded in love by other Black people. #YouOKSis? It was the kind of space where Black people were openly targeted, in this case mostly by Bernie Sanders supporters who were reeling from recent reports that Sanders wasn’t scoring well with Black voters. Shit was going down, so it made sense that many white people would immediately turn to any Black person they could find to assuage their white guilt, express their privilege and stump for their candidate too. Like “Black voters” were a product to obtain, instead of listen to, and to harp on, instead of hear from.An older, respected white LGBT advocate invited a number of LGBT people of color to his suite party and made it clear that people of color were welcome. So me and Kathryn showed up, and with a bunch of other people proceeded to have a great time. At one point we went on an excursion looking for supplies, and the elevator was really slow. As we waited, the full elevators would open and we would pose in different forms, much like we used to do when I was a young’un at UCLA. Once when the door opened, I saw a few Black women I had seen before but not yet talked to. I called out, “Hey now, we’re up in Rm 512 if you want to hang with some queer people of color and some Black folks!” The women locked eyes on me, and that moment happened, the one where they were no longer surrounded by oppressive whiteness, discomfort, tone policing, and silencing. The moment when you’re not thinking at all about white tears?  You know, the moment when you’re free?#BlackLivesMatter co-founder Patrisse Cullors, Ferguson BLM activist Ashley Yates, and #NN15 QPOC Caucus co-organizers Faith Cheltenham, Eyad Alkurabi, Sommer Foster and Daniel Villarreal at Netroots Nation 2015. Photo Credit: Faith CheltenhamThe Black women in the elevator called back to us, “We’ll come back up” and we decided to skip going back downstairs.  We went back to the suite and chilled, and Kathryn and I started talking about our Netroots Nation experience so far, in particular the ability of white folks to interrupt her at every moment to “talk about race” or tell her what Bernie Sanders had done for Black folks (#BernieSoBlack has more details). I was just telling her some of the things that had unfolded for me when I got a tap on the shoulder from the aforementioned Tearful White Woman. Even after I expressed that it wasn’t my responsibility to educate this tearful white woman, she persisted. Kathryn raised an eyebrow at me and I decided that TWW did need to know something from me after all. As I finished a custom hand roll, I looked up from licking the paper and said, “Listen to me OK? This is really important.” TWW nodded bravely, visibly squaring herself for a barrage of statements she really needed to hear, but I only had one. “I want you to imagine that every time you walk up to Black folks and interrupt their conversation, you are interrupting a conversation about Black folks being interrupted by white people.” As she opened her mouth to reply, I held up my hand and went all “you shall not pass”. Stoic, I handed her my most recent hand roll. “Listen”, I said gently, “that’s all I got for right now, but you take this with my best wishes. Goodbye.” Her friends dragged her out my space and one stayed behind. Kathryn raised another eyebrow, and I sighed. TWW’s friend quickly said, “Listen, I am SO SORRY her white privilege got all over you when you were just hanging out. We were on the elevator just now and she became convinced you were talking to her and telling her to come to room 512. We told her you were talking to the other women of color and told her about the need for safe space in oppressive white spaces, but she’s really new to social justice.”I had tears of laughter in my eyes, at the ridiculousness of those white folks who ALWAYS insist that EVERYTHING in Black lives is REALLY all about them. And I had hope, simply because of the friend who had stuck behind to quickly explain, apologize, and make right. So I thanked TWW’s friend and wished them all a good night. As they walked away, Kathryn and I burst out into big ass belly laughs because sometimes racism IS good for a laugh. Faith Cheltenham in the San Luis Obispo Telegram-Tribune, age 9. Photo Credit: Faith CheltenhamWhite tears wasn’t a term I knew when I was in middle school and organized my first protest against my school’s “Jungle Fever” ball. See, I grew up in white town, white county, very white USA. My hometown of San Luis Obispo, California prided itself on its “slo-ness” in all things, from the ban on drive thru’s to its slow to evolve racial sensibilities. From a very early age, I withstood taunts of “Aunt Jemima”, pulls on my braids intended to show my “real hair”, and insults from students and teachers alike, with the favorite being “Buckwheat” due to my hair’s tendency to stand up so straight you’d think my follicles themselves were stressed. My daily school experience was of avoiding the kids who threw rocks at me only to come back from recess to fight with my teachers about their racist views. By the time I was in high school I was writing about my experiences of race, inspired by Nikki Giovanni, Richard Wright, James Baldwin, Maya Angelou and Toni Morrison. I won an honorable mention from a USA Today writing racial justice content as a high school freshman and kept writing, hoping to create an invisible ring of protection that would keep my hope (and self) alive. I battled race at school, but when I went home, I didn’t go home to a Black home that welcomed me, but to a biracial one ruled by a mentally unstable, racist, biphobic and homophobic white Pentecostal pastor. At home I faced abuse of a different kind, most of which I kept secret for many years until taking a hammer to my own wall of silence. And at home too, I protested. I protested and called the police. I protested and called CPS. I protested and called for help, and when I couldn’t get it, I called RAINN, a hotline that helped me find a teen homeless shelter to stay in until I could feel safe at home again. These are the experiences of so many Black people: the loss of safety at home and abroad in their everyday lives, all-the-while experiencing the colonization of our bodies, appropriations of our culture, and the fragility of white people who refuse to dismantle their own supremacy in a world where it’s far too difficult to tell the difference between the GOP and the KKK. My background led me to raise my voice consistently for those unheard, and those kept at the margins. I’ve done that with blogging, writing, slam poetry, reality show appearances, stand-up comedy, and Black and bisexual community organizing. Everywhere I go I’ve been standing up for oppressed people, because before I knew the words and the mechanism for my own oppression, I knew the feeling. I knew the feeling of crying alone, desperate to end my own life because I couldn’t take another adult yelling the N word at me at 9 years old. I knew the feeling of being patted down and frequently profiled by police because that’s what walking down the street in San Luis Obispo, CA any damn day entailed. I knew what it was like to be raped because a boy thought he knew what a big breasted Black ten year old girl like me wanted. I have always known what it is like to be treated as a second class citizen in comparison to my peers. Still, racism can always find new ways to surprise you.Photo of #TheBlackPanel at #LGBTMEDIA16 handouts with a love note from ForHarriet.com’s Ashleigh Shackelford. Photo Credit: Faith CheltenhamRecently, I re-experienced the phenomenon of gaslighting racism which Black LGBT YA author Craig Gidney defines as a situation "where (mostly) (some) white people will twist themselves into logic pretzels to deny racism, even when it is obvious."We were about to begin #TheBlackPanel at #LGBTMedia16, an annual gathering of LGBTQ journalists, bloggers and media professionals. Our panel featured a rising star in discussions of race, New York Times columnist Charles Blow, alongside NBCNews.com contributor Danielle Moodie-Mills, and Vox.com’s Race and Identities editor Michelle Garcia. The panel was developed by myself, Sharif Durhams of the WashingtonPost.com and Matt Foreman of the Haas Foundation with the support of Bil Browning, founder of bilerico.com. We were the 2nd panel to go and as we gathered to get everyone settled, I turned around to find a wonderfully styled white woman invading my personal space to whisper to me how beautiful Charles Blow was and how much she loved him and could she have her picture right now, before everyone else because she was such a fan. Since we literally were about to start the panel, I asked her to wait and sit down so we could get started, which she did. As we began the panel and started having a really good and profound conversation, from the podium I noticed a rise in concerning behavior from the wonderfully styled white woman (we can call her WSWW for short). After the panel had begun, she got up and walked over to the panel table and put her phone down to tape. After a few minutes, she began to look concerned for her phone and she began to quietly crawl forward. The whole time I’m watching her, like WTF, are you literally crawling slowly forward towards our panel? And she kept crawling closer and closer. I admit it, at that point all I saw was WHITE PEOPLE. I was furious with the general lack of respect and disregard for the panelists and for myself as a moderator. When, from the moderator’s podium, I asked her to take her seat because I found it distracting, instead of nodding and moving back to her seat she began to argue with me about why it wasn’t a big deal for her to be there, and why I should just let it go and why it’s OK to tape things because “look, we have a celebrity”. In those statements, I felt a disregard for my own work and a general slight to my own experience as a journalist and a person who’s worked with high profile institutions like the White House or Sarah Ferguson, The Duchess of York, a woman I’m proud to call a mentor. While it seemed like such a small thing, coupled with her previous invasion of personal space and her comments on her love for beautiful Black men, it just read racist and real racist at that. However, it won’t surprise you that the only support I felt in that room for my desire to stay on topic was from my fellow Black girl queers. As I struggled to “keep my eyebrows on”, I thought about  Black writer and The Nightly Show contributor’s Franchesca Ramsey’s run in with white queer women at The Sundance Film Festival and I took strength from looking Ashleigh Shackelford right in the face as she raised her eyebrows at Charles Blow for his apologies to the white woman of behalf of me, the Black woman who invited him to speak on the panel. In those moments of racial microaggressions, and in the moment when white tears threaten the ability for Black people to even discuss race, we all lose. All the LGBT people of color in attendance at #LGBTMedia16. Photo Credit: Cathy Renna/TargetCueI believe I pulled it together, and we were able to continue a meaningful conversation that multiple people later remarked being deeply impressed by during the public feedback session. As we ended the convening, I tapped WSWW on the shoulder and asked if we could speak. We went off to the side and had a difficult conversation, certainly for both of us. She, like myself, is bisexual and had been deeply influenced by Charles Blow’s discussions of sexual fluidity. She told me others had apologized to her for my “crazy” response to her being a fan girl, and she said she was worried for me since I had humiliated myself by bullying her.  Image of crying Peter Parker with caption, “White Boy Tears / I’m Offended Your Offended At that, a smile broke across my face, and I will never forget telling her “That’s OK, because you’re going to your grave having told a Black woman that she humiliated herself when she responded to your racism.” WSWW blanched at that, and swallowed hard when I followed up with a tearfully stated, “I call you racist to your face, and name your actions as racist”. As she teared up, she asked me how it could be racist just to bring her phone up to the panel. And I took her through the sequence of events from my perspective, and I asked her if she realized she had touched me, or if she realized she was in my space, attempting to lean across my body to reach Charles Blow, when we’d never even met before. Her eyes went WIDE, and she said, “Oh, my gosh. I totally invaded your space and I didn’t even think about it.” We talked about her “Black friends” in Oklahoma, and I told her that having Black friends doesn’t mean you’re actually invested in the movement for Black lives. We talked about her “love of Black people” and how that can be misconstrued into fetishization if one isn’t careful, especially when you begin crawling towards them with puppy dog eyes during a panel about race in America. We began to laugh with each other and I realized I really liked her even though I didn’t think she’d ever had the opportunity to learn how to respect a Black person like me, and culturally exchange with them instead of culturally appropriate from them. Image from Paying an Unfair Price: The Financial Penalty for LGBT People of Color report by the Movement Advancement Project.That’s a responsibility, I feel should be left squarely at the feet of a lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer community that’s doggedly refused to dialogue about race in favor of reinventing racism in new flavors. I had to wonder if WSWW had been influenced at all by the #LGBTMEDIA16 keynote address the night before that found gay legend and filmmaker John Waters telling jokes about Freddie Gray’s broken back alongside Bill Cosby rape stories. In a rare move, the convening had asked the attendees to refrain from taking photos or video of John Water’s “address”, which was probably for the best, as I feel like someone could have lost their job just for listening to the atrocities that dropped from Waters’ mouth like little white nuggets of gay racism. Experiencing that, even briefly since I walked out early, was a form of racial trauma visited upon the people of color in the space, and for what? Since you’re gay and white, you’ve been hurt and can hurt people too? Since you’re a white gay man, you know what it’s like to fear police so Freddie Gray’s broken vertebrae is a good punchline when you’re feeling salty? Since you’re a white LGBTQ person, you have no problem stepping into photos where people of color are already posed together, with nary a thought as to whether they want you in the photo too? Since you’re a white lesbian, you’re a “sister” to Black women? Since you’re queer, you can culturally appropriate Black culture with a “SLAY!” or “YASSSSS QUEEN!” or “GIRL, GET IT!”? The six openly LGBT U.S. ambassadors, all white, all gay and all cis. Photo Credit: WashingtonPost.com/ (Blake Bergen/GLIFAA) Oh no, I think not!!! I call that racist too, and long past time for an end. It’s time for all people of color to see some basic levels of respect in the LGBTQIA community for who they are. So that means no more “Namaste!”, and it means dropping the “No Blacks, No Asians” from your dating profile. It means fighting just as hard for clean water for Native people as it does for the residents of Flint, MI, and shouting #Not1More to amplify the fight of Latinx immigrants. It means fighting #pinkwashing in all it's forms and it ABSOLUTELY means acknowledging the existence of dozens of cultural experiences and peoples still fighting to be heard. It also means that LGBT orgs should quit touting the numbers of people of color on staff, until the management reflects those colors too. When all the coordinators, service providers, and facility people are of color and all the management is white, it still looks like a plantation in my book! #GayMediaSoWhite that LGBT publishers shouldn't bother counting the magazine covers with people of color on them, if they aren't also counting the number of people of color on staff writing and editing in them. Until the day comes that the rainbow really reflects all of us, I will stand up against racism in LGBTQIA communities with whatever tools I have at my disposal. I will keep telling myself, and telling you too, that it is OK to cry, and BE MAD. We should be mad that our community does not support us! It is OK to protest white LGBT people, in fact one might argue it is our duty as their fellow queer, bi+ and trans* community members. We must do what needs to be done to find some respect for our voices and our bodies, and make clear that the LGBTQIA community is one that supports freedom for everyone, and not just for some.

[supercalvin]

Me again, because I love this list of prompts ... What can you do with 16Q ? :) Thanks dear !

Why can’t I write short ficlets anymore??? Oh well. Anyways, enjoy!

***

It had been half a year since Arthur had walked out of the lake.

Because Merlin had had over a millennia to think about introducing Arthur into a new world- whenever that may be- he already had things planned out when Arthur arose. Merlin had been travelling all around the world, but when he felt the draw to return to the Lake of Avalon, he returned to a small cottage on the outskirts of society.  The home was nestled in the woods, about a mile from Avalon. That was where he had taken Arthur after he stepped out of the lake.

As Merlin had predicted, it was hard for Arthur to adjust to over one thousand five hundred years of change. The cottage made it easier for both of them. Arthur wasn't bombarded with modernity and Merlin could introduce him slowly as he himself became acquainted again with his old friend.

But at the mark of six months, in the bright days of spring, Merlin knew it was time to properly let Arthur see the world. Merlin had taught him all about modernity, eased him into technology and societal customs of the day, but now it was time to take the next step. They closed up the cottage and moved into Merlin’s flat in the city. It wasn’t a particularly large city by any means, but it was more than Arthur had ever been used to. To Merlin’s surprise, he took to it like a fish to water.

Arthur woke up in the mornings and took a run and then bought Merlin a coffee. He joined a local football team, made friends with the men on the team and went out to the pub with them on Fridays. He even convinced Merlin to pay for online history classes so he could learn more, and maybe get a degree for a career.

Merlin didn’t mind Arthur’s enthusiasm, in fact, it was nice to not have to worry over him. Merlin was dragged along to one event after another, happy to be with Arthur again.

“Merlin?” Arthur called into the flat, “You home?”

“Kitchen!” Merlin called back, pulling off his glasses to look up from his computer screen.

“Can I borrow that?” Arthur asked, pointing to the laptop.

“Yeah, new word?” Merlin asked.

“Of a sort.” Arthur answered. He pulled the laptop towards himself and Merlin didn’t think too much of it. Every once and while there was a new word or thing that popped up that Arthur had known about before. The first time Arthur came back from football practice with a bunch of lads, Arthur came home and had to look up all the slang they had used.

“Oh.” Arthur said, brows pulled together.

“What is it?” Merlin asked.

“I thought this was still taboo? This isn’t one of those extreme groups, is it?” Arthur turned the laptop around, showing Merlin a google search page for four letters, all with spaces in between because Arthur was still getting the hang of the computer, L G B T. The rainbow flag was the prominent on screen.

“Oh.” Merlin said.

Merlin hadn’t really explained queer culture to Arthur yet. It seemed so culturally different from medieval Camelot that he worried Arthur would reject it on the spot.

Merlin pulled the laptop over and tapped on a few pages. “Well… I wouldn’t call it universally accepted, but a man being in a romantic and sexual relationship with another man, isn’t all that uncommon now. Or for two women. Here, there’s a lot of history, you might want to look into it.”

Merlin then gave the laptop over to Arthur and set about making dinner for them.

“Merlin?” Arthur caught his attention as he popped the chicken into the oven.

“Hm?”

“Is this you?”

Merlin turned to see Arthur pointing at a picture on an obscure LGBT website, on a page about Queer History. The article was titled ‘Remember Pride Parades Were Once Queer Riots.’ A grainy black and white picture from the twentieth century showed a crowd of queer protesters with angry signs and raised fists. Then there was a man, loose white shirt and jeans, with dark hair long enough to curl around his ears. It was unmistakably Merlin, fifty years prior in New York City.

“Yes.” Merlin said slowly, gaging Arthur’s reaction.

“Were you there because you were seeing the world, or...?”

“No.” Merlin shook his head, “No, I wasn’t just there.”

It was dead silent as Arthur looked down at the picture for a long moment.

“Arthur-”

“You’ve been in relationships with men?” Arthur cut him off. “Romantic ones?”

Merlin chewed on his lip nervously. “I’ve always been attracted to men and women. It just wasn’t until the twentieth century that they gave a name to it.”

Arthur was silent again.

“This isn’t going to be weird, is it?” Merlin asked.

“You thought I would hate you- like the magic?” Arthur asked. Merlin had not expected the hurt in Arthur’s expression.

“What? Arthur, no. In Camelot, a man loving a man was so taboo, I worried the whole queer culture would give you a shock.” Merlin said.

“Were you with anyone in Camelot?” Arthur asked, more demanding now.

“Well…” Merlin said, thinking of the few men he had snuck off with, behind the stables or in the back of the tavern.

Arthur stood up abruptly. “I’m going on a walk.”

That was Arthur’s code for ‘I’m not angry, but I need time to process alone.’ He took his jacket and left. Merlin felt hollow.

It was over an hour later, the chicken sitting cold on top of the stove and Merlin sitting impatiently at the kitchen table, when Arthur returned.

Merlin tried not to jump up and run to Arthur as soon as the flat’s door opened and closed behind Arthur. He waited. He would always wait for Arthur.

Arthur sat down across from Merlin, “Did you eat?”

“No.” Merlin answered.

There was a long pause.

“This morning,” Arthur started, speaking to the table rather than to Merlin. “After my run, I went to buy you a coffee. Linda handed me this, telling me that ‘Me and my bloke would just love it.’” Arthur held out a bright red flyer, sliding it over to Merlin.

‘LGBT Night - Open Mic Night at Linda’s Coffee and Tea. Friday, 7 - 9 pm. All welcome!’

Merlin felt his stomach flip. Oh, that nice older woman. Linda thought they were a couple. Merlin held back a nervous laugh that was building in his chest.

“She asked me how long we had been together.” Arthur said, “I obviously didn’t catch her meaning because I just told her that we’ve always been together.”

Merlin gave a weak smile, “So you don’t want to go to Open Mic Night?”

“Merlin.” Arthur warned.

“Sorry, sorry.” Merlin laughed a little. “You have to admit- It’s a bit funny.”

“Do you think it’s funny?” Arthur asked, his lips turned down.

“Arthur, don’t be insulted by it. She just misunderstood.”

“I’m not insulted.” Arthur said.

“Then what’s with all the-” Merlin gestured to Arthur and his sour mood.

“You.” Arthur said, eyes boring straight into Merlin. “You’ve been with men. I didn’t even realize you had any affairs while in Camelot- let alone with men. You’ve been here all this time- and I don’t know Merlin. We’ve been through hell and back- and perhaps I’m angry that you tucked away yet another part of yourself from me. Shared a part of yourself with some random man- and not with me.”

Merlin’s heart raced in his chest as Arthur stood up and stepped into front of Merlin. “Is it so bad that I liked it when Linda said ‘your bloke’ like you were mine?”

Merlin stood up, feeling his throat close up with nerves, making it hard for the words to come out. “No. It’s not so bad.”

When Arthur raised his hand to cup the side of Merlin’s face, Merlin had never seen Arthur so hesitant before. He said, “I’m not wrong about this, am I?”

Merlin shook his head, “I was only with those men because I couldn’t have you.”

Arthur kissed him, too fast and crooked, but Merlin melted into it immediately.

On Friday night they went to Linda’s Open Mic Night, and didn’t correct her when she called them boyfriends.

Number+Letter

Ficlets

[an-idiot-but-a-bit-more-refined]

I was laying in bed thinking of something and this made me laugh  for like a split second, then I got mad and then I started crying a little because, I imagined that I was a lecturer and I had to teach a group of Baby Swen about why their new fandom home was the way it was.

Me: Hello Babies, Mommy's back!

Student in the back: Sweet! Evil Queen references.. Umm, professor, I have a question.

Me: Yes?

Student: Why are our fandom grandmothers, mothers and aunts against Eddie and Adam writing Swan Queen?

Me, sighing gently: Darling, we're not against them writing it, but we have our reservations on the way they ARE writing it and most likely would attempt to write it.

Student in the back seems confused. Pauses slightly before nodding. I write down a topic that blankets the class discussion. "Swan Queen". BABY SWENS WHISPER AND SNICKER WITH EXCITEMENT, but I sigh once again. Someone notices

Student: Professor?

Me: Yes?

Student: What's the matter?

Me, slightly conflicted to do said discussion, but I feel it is needed.

Me: The issue the fandom is facing my dear younglings has to do with an ever running war on Tropes, Tokenism, Sexism and just all around 'fandom fuckery' as we've coined it. Some of you- rather, most of you may be familiar with how savagely Swen are dogged for wanting something that represents this current day and age. Be it a fairy tale that's never been told, or simple recognition in a way that does not make us feel as though we've been given a half-assed story that's tossed after it's done what writers and show runners believe it's supposed to...no-no, Your home- THIS home is a home that has to fight for the equality so that the younger generation may reap the benefits of the fight. Now, this may sound tragic- or seem catty, but I assure you, Swen are not known to be such. We like to leave that to...what was that other group's name, again?

Student with all the smart ass comments whom I adore: Crap tainted Swan!

Me: Yes, them.

I begin to write down a few categories and immediately hands go up.

Student: Professor, what exactly do you mean when you say- they will fuck it up?

Me: Precisely what I wrote. The Swan Queen fandom is not fond of being lied to, deceived or played for fools my young one. We know as well as anyone that 'pushing' is a thing for two overly hetero-normative men who run to Captain Swan with open arms and away from Swan Queen with eyes shut and ears deafened, will somehow manage to mess up a perfectly good story to tell.

Student somewhere in the corner: And when you say they'll make it more difficult- what does that mean?

Me: It means that Our ladies are difficult apart- NOT together and yet the writers seem to bring that as some valid way to deter the pairing. They believe by forcing these characters to appear as though they'd be difficult together would make it hard for them to have a lasting relationship. Trying to deter someone by creating this aura that they simply can't be around one another long enough before they become snarky and catty for all the wrong reasons is absolute bull. If anything- we have proof of countless times they have preferred to be with one another simply because it was obvious of the safety they felt. The care and concern they felt.

Student: Oh, so you mean like- Regina's stubborn and sassy and sarcastic when she and Emma are apart and when they work together, she's still sassy and sarcastic it's just in reference to everyone else and not Emma... it's like they're trying to make you think that Regina can't stand being around Emma when the only time we see the real Regina is when she's with Emma-or Henry-

Me, highly impressed: -exactly!

Another student in the front raises their hand: So, that ties into your next point of it being predictable doesn't it?

Me: It does. Have you all seen the consistent template that's written for a queer character?

They all nod and someone with a good bit of brains stands up to go on a miniature rant.

Student: Yeah, I have and it sucks. There's always the one gay character- (he manages to say with an eye roll.) But then there's all these other 'templates' that are stereotypical. Like if they do marry Emma off to Hook and she magically realizes she doesn't love him or that she's gay, they use Regina and it becomes that thing where the lesbian or in Regina's case- the bisexual, quote on quote 'turns' the straight housewife and she realizes she never needed a man; just some good love.. Or one of them dies- or in their case, both of them apparently.. isn't that what was happening in season six?

Someone whispers, Lexa deserved better and puts up a fist. Other students nod at the other baby Swen and agree.

Student who laughs sarcastically all the time: Or how about this one, She realizes she's not gay either after a bunch of passionate nights with Regina and then she goes back to.. the one handed wonder.. God, don't let her get pregnant-

Other Student yells in pain: -DEAR GOD, PLEASE DON'T GIVE ME IMAGES OF ANOTHER WHINY VERSION OF HOOK! But let's not forget the ones who argue all the time and can't keep a stable relationship and are secretive and all that other junk the L Word made beyond obvious.And if that's not bad enough, they both get beards and are tortured for seasons with men they have no chemistry with and these are women who have chemistry with brick walls and can't even make that shit work-

Me: -Alright.. alright, focus. Yes, these are the templates I'm referring to. But let us not forget the ones that gay male characters also go through.

Someone snorts because they only have one template for gay males.

Student: You mean they're difficult and mysterious and cute little twinks who get thrown with other cute twinks or big buff guys with daddy issues and bam- magical ending?

Me: Correct..moving on.. The third points says-

I'm interrupted as they all say it together

Students: Tokenism!

Me: This is just the TV way of saying affirmative action.. Fanciful in meaning isn't it?

Student: It's trash!

Me: Yes, I do suppose it is... however, would someone like to express why the word tokenism still would apply to Swan Queen?

Hands immediately go up.

Student: Well, if we're being honest here, We already got it once before and we don't even know what the deal is with that story anymore...Swen fears that tokenism can still be a thing for Swan Queen because Eddie and Adam only attempt Swan Mills episodes when their ratings drop and as that becomes a case, so does the question of will they just do Swan Queen to stay on the air and never explore it the way they should... We've been hearing of season seven being the final season and our worry is no longer that they will fuck it up. Quite frankly we don't even want them to write it anymore, we'll take it off their hands and make our own show out of it. The problem arises when they create the asinine plan to use it as a last minute crutch to 'go out with a bang' or something. Like, What if this season completely tanks it and season seven is in fact the last season,right? They get the plan, Hmm maybe we should do Swan Queen in the last episode and that'll justify all of the crap we've put these people through, just to say they did something some grande and amazing thing for us, when in reality, they were trying to save their shitty revenue.

Student directly adjacent: Can I add on to that?

Other student nods.

Student: It really is sad though when we were willing to settle for anything- any sort of thing, just to know we were being heard no matter how much we fought- no matter how much our fandom grandmothers have fought. I think deep down, a lot of us know they just won't do it, like they really won't and even if they do, the luxury of it has just faded. The luxury of it would have faded and they'll try to force it to be overly gooey and 'loving' or cutesy when that's not what we asked for. We asked for a story that was true to life and very much so a proper representation for us all. We asked for a story that proved that strong women can work together and fall in love with one another. That they go through ups and downs and doubts and sticking things out and believing in one another and all of the other good things we've seen.... If we get it, if we are blessed enough to have Swan Queen- We'll be happy, but we'll be tired. We'll be exhausted and still disappointed that it had to come to this for us to be heard... I don't think we'll ever be as happy as we were the first day in season one when they met, if only because of the pain and heartbreak and the amount of horrible things that have been said to us just seems to, hit too many nails in our coffins. The fight will never be over, and we have accepted that, but I think everyone's getting tired of having to fight for something that shouldn't even be in question... and it's not to say we've lost our drive or we're losing hope. We're just done with trying to tell men who clearly don't understand that this is a revolution that needs to happen. This is a change that needs to be seen.. we're done trying to prove something we have too much evidence for to still be called delusional and reaching and all those other things. Everyone's tired of watching some forced 'chemistry' dictate how women should be treated and seen in this world. We're tired of seeing people be criminalized and denied a second chance at a love that won't leave or die on them i.e Regina.. We're done and we are tired of feeling like what we watch is what it will always be- nothing but a dream, an illusion... A fucking fairytale.

Silence encompasses the room and everyone thinks on it. (I legit cried when I thought about this part, so I'm sorry)

Me: We are tired, young ones.. we are, but we fight for us and we fight for you until it's over. We march for us and we march for you until we die and you are right, we have not lost hope.. we've just lost that many damns to give on speaking to a group of people who choose not to understand.... And maybe it is true, maybe we truly won't be fulfilled even if they do give us what we asked for.. what we've pleaded for.. and maybe it will make it all seem like it was in vain and maybe we will feel like we've accomplished nothing because we had to force hand for them to cave or pressure them... your grandmothers, mothers and aunts for this fandom realized many things.. we will not force anyone to give us anything. We will peacefully protest the injustice, but if we are not given what we rightly deserve.... we move on from trying with them and you know what we do? We make a world of our own. Eddie and Adam didn't give Swan Queen life... we did, and you did. They didn't see what we saw. They didn't understand it and they clearly didn't want any part of it, but the dream lives on. The reality lives on- the world keep spinning and life goes on and guess what, so will the memory of Swan Queen....Now I need you all to say this last point with me..together we will do this..

Even if nothing happens. Even if your words fall on deaf ears to some, remember the many that you have made hear you. Remember the many who sat with you and held your hands and kept you together...when things fall away and the glamour goes goodbye, remember your reality, your worth and yourself in all of this- Remember YOUR fight.. Through all things, every hard moment and every distressing situation.. for every negative message- comes ten thousand positive soldiers. Fight on and keep hope..

When you open your mouth and words come out and you say "May I have your attention please?" Remember that those who listen are those who wish to hear.... Remember that your fight is a plea to be heard and someone will listen.. remember that actions and words are one and you fuel them. Remember that when the world around you dies- you are to flourish and bring light back to it... remember that you fight for you just as you fight for me and I do the same... remember from now until the end of time that you've done your part in this world and if it never happens... still, keep hope, because maybe, just maybe...one day it will

With Love, Megan

[arielmagicesi]

Hi, sorry. So I am new to the st/efvater world, and I've only read one of her books (raven boys), and like I see you posting stuff about her a lot, but only like little bits and pieces, and I feel like I'm missing something and don't understand what's going on cause I'm not really in the fandom; I've just read one book, and don't really know anything about her. I'm sorry, this is rambling mess, but if you could enlighten me a little bit I would appreciate it.

OK I took a while to respond and I’m gonna try to be objective and polite but there isn’t a whole lot of objective politeness in this soul of mine, but I will try.

Maggie St/efvater (I only spell it that way so it doesn’t show up in her tag and annoy people, I’ll just call her Maggie for the rest of this post) is this fairly popular YA author, and she wrote the Wolves of Mercy Falls series, the Scorpio Races, and the Raven Cycle. Her writing is very good (I have some bones to pick about it as a writer but mostly it’s pretty good) and the Raven Cycle in particular has gained a big fandom because it’s an excellent series. I guess you would know cause you’ve read TRB- the concept is unique, it has cool magic stuff, there’s fascinating character concepts, and the teenagers do a lot of realistic teenager stuff like being annoying and cursing and either doing their homework or not, etc. And if I haven’t made it abundantly clear with my posts, a lot of us in the fandom fell in love with the main characters for many reasons, but especially because they represent parts of ourselves that aren’t often represented. Abuse victims who don’t react in a Good Abuse Victim way, poor teenagers who scrape and claw to get out of their shitty towns, mentally ill kids who have ugly unpleasant symptoms, girls who are feminists but whose feminism is a little messy because they grow up in a terrible small town, etc.

Unfortunately, the development of the Raven Cycle fandom online, like the development of ANY goddamn fandom on the accursed Internet, led to some gross pockets of fandom. In the second book, an abusive character called Ka/vinsky shows up, and some heavy subtext suggests that he’s gay and into one of the main characters, Ronan. He’s absolutely awful and monstrous to Ronan and the others, but you know how fandom is, they started shipping it and being like “Ka/vinsky’s just a misunderstood cinnamon roll uwu” and generally being the worst about it. Additionally, some parts of fandom started hating on the two lower-class characters, Adam and Blue, for not always being sweet and nice about the class privilege of all their wealthy friends, and for reacting "badly” to literal abuse and sexism.  so the fandom is a mess, yeah

In the second and third books, also, (spoiler alert I guess? I mean if you follow my blog you can’t avoid knowing this haha) it’s suggested and then made all but direct canon, that Ronan is gay and has a crush on Adam. So, like, everyone shipped it because they’re a great ship and it was pretty obvious it was gonna be made canon in book four.

But Maggie interacts a lot with the fandom online, and obviously the clashing of fandom issues like this with any author would lead to some mess, but the way she treated it was....... terrible. She would make jokes about Ronan being Gansey’s “dog” and things like that. She milked the whole “writing a gay character” thing for all it was worth, and would never really say “hey, Adam and Ronan are a romantic thing” but would hint at it constantly, which, if you don’t know, is agonizing to watch when you’re desperate for any representation of your identity. She eventually said “I realize you guys are used to being baited, so don’t worry, the ‘other kiss’ will be between the people you hope it’ll be between” or something like that. And she would talk about Ronan being gay, but never address whether Adam was bi, and god forbid those words were used in the books. In the fourth book, although they do actually kiss and presumably get together, they don’t talk about it, and they never use the words “gay” or “bisexual.” Her excuse was that she’s writing for a world without labels. Leaving aside that that’s bullshit and a straight* woman doesn’t get to say that when we are out here in a homophobic world and saying our labels out loud is a sign of pride, she actually didn’t write a world without labels. The aforementioned Ka/vinsky is constantly using homophobic slurs to describe Ronan, boys at the private school make homophobic jokes, Adam’s dad makes lowkey homophobic remarks, etc. So labels are OK if they’re nasty and negative and used against you, but you’re never allowed to say who you are out loud.

When she gets called out on this whole mess- or a number of other things**- her response is to block people, tell people “if you are hostile one more time you’ll be blocked,” to reply to private posts by teenagers, to sic her army of clueless fans on young LGBT mentally ill readers, to claim that she’s being bullied and attacked, to make vague posts talking about “callout culture” and how it’s mature to avoid “discourse,” etc. I talked a while back about how I’ve made several fully thought-out posts critiquing her, but when I sent her a polite ask about her next book, she replied linking me to one of my own joke posts about “hating” her, making it clear that she apparently has me down on some sort of list of haters or something. And at least she responded privately, so that her other fans didn’t attack me, which has happened to other younger fans before.

She claims to be an ally, but she only really wants the ally points. She’ll talk your ear off about how brave she is for “writing an on-page queer relationship” as a straight woman, but when actual queer teenagers critique her for the way she writes it, she throws a fit and absolutely refuses to listen. She doesn’t want to do the work.

Additionally, she is writing a follow-up series called “the dreamer trilogy” which she drops constant hints about on her social media. It will center on Ronan (naturally, because she’s admitted Ronan is her self-insert and has butchered his character development for the sake of giving him a life identical to hers and fulfilling her fantasies of driving fast cars 24/7 and being an asshole with no consequences) and she’s making it increasingly obvious that none of the other characters we all fell in love with will feature at all. And basically any plotllines we enjoyed, she scraps (often out of spite?), and any plotlines we hate, she makes sure to write tons about (I’m talking about the magical artifact community. No one cares. We started reading for the house of psychics and Glendower and Gwenllian, not the fucking Greenmantles and their haunted doll babies or whatever).

The fandom obviously responded with like “ooh! more Pynch!” because like, fandoms like ships, but ALSO BECAUSE some of us are goddamn LGBT teenagers who are starving for representation and we want to see that “on page queer relationship” she brags about. And yet, at every opportunity, she makes remarks like, “This won’t be a romance. It won’t be the cuddle trilogy. It won’t have relationship drama, that doesn’t interest me. It won’t be fanservice. It won’t be lovey dovey, it won’t be cute, etc.” No, I don’t want fanservice or drama or the cuddle trilogy. But given her history, when Maggie says shit like that, I get worried, as someone who’s been baited a thousand times before. Doesn’t anyone see how awful it is to dangle representation like this? To say “ooh, look, someone who has the same identity as you? Juuuust kidding I’m not writing about it?” She can’t just say what we want to hear, which is “Adam will be there. I’ll say the word gay. I’ll say the word bisexual. Their relationship will be treated as real as Blue and Gansey’s or as any other relationship I write. Not the main focus of the plot, but THERE.” Because she’s not GOING to do any of those things, because writing actual gay relationships makes her uncomfortable. But she can’t say that or she’ll lose her sales.

And when she says all this bullshit about “I won’t write a romance” she gets so much FUCKING praise from her straight readers who think she’s the sun and fucking stars because their shit brand of feminism thinks all romances are equal and romance is insipid drivel and that a feminist book, apparently, is one token white girl who has a pink switchblade being sort-of in the background of a bunch of rich boys fucking around. I’m not saying I didn’t like that very book and that I don’t love that girl and her switchblade, but Maggie has to actually LEARN and IMPROVE and not go backwards. If she wants all this credit for gay representation, she has to actually write gay representation. And if not, I’m not congratulating her for “not writing relationship drama!!!!” because all that says to me is “yuck, I’m not writing gay stuff.” She says “relationship drama doesn’t interest me” and yet she wrote pages upon pages of Blue’s mother making out with a hit man. Relationship drama sure does seem to interest her. This isn’t her taking a Stand against romance, it’s her finding a way to make homophobia seem cool and progressive.

So yeah. That’s why she pisses me off.

*I know I know, “she’s never said her sexuality! How can you call her straight?” On the off chance she’s bisexual (she’s married to a man with kids), that doesn’t excuse her homophobic bullshit. She’s acting like an asshole straight person so yeah I’m gonna call her straight.

**Here are some other problems she’s been called out for and her bullshit reactions:

-Blue is basically the only female character and has no female friends or anything. Maggie says “well none of them had friends!” OK so why isn’t there another girl in the group? Why is her family the only other women who have page time besides villains and other relatives of main characters?

-Gansey gives Adam a lot of grief for not being fond of Gansey’s wealth, but Adam never makes Gansey apologize for blaming Adam for the abuse he endured? Maggie doesn’t have a comment on this, I don’t think.

-In book four, Ronan and Adam make racist jokes at the expense of the One (1) character of color, Henry Cheng. Maggie didn’t address this outright because “spoilers” but made a post about it saying that it wasn’t meant to be a racist joke, it was a throwback to some random joke from book one, and any good reader would know that.

-Blue isn’t a very intersectional feminist, which is fine, but it’s never really addressed, apparently because “all the characters are damn fools!” Who never get any character development except for Adam whose development essentially consists of “I stopped being prejudiced against the rich!” (and lots of other personal things but still)

Yeah, that’s about all I can think of. This didn’t end up being very neutral but I have class in 10 minutes and yeah this is hella long I just wanted to get it all out. I hope I don’t get shit for this, but you know what, anons? Go ahead, send me stuff saying I’m a nasty bitch and should stay away from fandom for criticizing poor Maggie. I don’t even care.

OH AND THEBROKENBREAKINGSEAS: THANK YOU FOR YOUR QUESTION. I know I answered in a horrifically mean tone but that ISN’T directed towards you, you were just asking! Don’t take my words at face value, I’m super biased. If you’re interested, you can go read Maggie’s blog and Twitter account, or other fans’ essays on this, etc. I’m glad you asked! And thanks for still following me after all this stuff haha. I’m normally... nicer? I think? Thanks again.

[brajeshupadhyay]

Bois Locker Room case underscores vital need for radical, political reimagining of an education that liberates us

In 1984, Delhi’s St. Stephen’s college was in the news for a time-honoured tradition: chick charts. Tradition is such a flexible word — making a practice sound unchangeable. In fact the college started admitting women students only in 1975 (it had been co-ed in the past, from 1928-1949). The nine years that women had been attending the college, was enough to term tradition, the frequent posting on the official college notice board, of Top 10 charts, made by male students, rating women on their breasts, butts, legs, mouths — and sometimes maybe, smiles. Smiles were what most women apparently used to mask the discomfort of the back-handed humiliation. When women are a minority, granted entrance to the worlds of men, going along with such behaviour, or being called a bad sport are often the perceived choices.

That year, the college was closed as Delhi witnessed harrowing anti-Sikh violence. Shortly after it re-opened, a “Sardines Chick Chart” came up on the notice board, sardines being slang for sardarnis. The most striking quality of quotidian violence is its wild-eyed avidity. The instinct to further leer at the women of a community that has recently been brutalised puts the violence in sex like masala films can but dream of.

The incident however, broke the uneasy acceptance of the ‘tradition’, and grew over time to become a protest that made it to the newspapers. Consequently, as the filmmaker Saba Dewan has recounted on Kafila, women students had men hissing ‘fuck off’ at them as they walked the corridors. The Girls’ Common Room was vandalised and students’ bras and panties were strewn everywhere, including furled from the college turret, just like victory flags of war. A Hen Chart was put up, making the clichéd connection between feminists and frumps, naming the most vocal members of the protest. The administration never held any men accountable, but did call in the women’s parents to complain about them.

At around the same time, the filmmaker Bela Negi was studying in Sherwood College, a posh boarding school in Nainital, which too had only recently begun to admit women. “I was the head-girl. The head boy was the principal’s son and he wasn’t much into rules. I was a bit of a goody two-shoes so I would take my job somewhat seriously,” Negi said to me. On one occasion, she crossed the head boy over something. A few days later, “when I went out in a short skirt”, a group of about 25 boys pounced on her and gave her bumps on a pile of horse dung. “I knew it was no use complaining to the administration, so I got up and walked away, refusing to give them the pleasure of knowing they’d humiliated me.”

The similarity to the Bois Locker Room incident — an Instagram group where schoolboys aged 14 to 18, rated schoolgirls’ body parts, shared their Instagram posts without consent, morphing their heads onto naked bodies — does not require over-articulation here. There’s no real difference. Bonding in private rooms, competing to trash talk women, dismembering women metaphorically, into body parts. Threatening to assault actually or metaphorically through public shaming, when called out. Traditions are what keep a society going, no?

One of the unexpected discoveries I made while writing this essay was that the niece of a close friend was one of the minors discussed in the Bois Locker Room. I had heard over the last year that she and her mother had had several conflicts over her posting very sexualised images on Instagram. “Why do you think she does it?” I’d asked my friend then. “It’s the only way for girls to be popular in their schools”. It’s a tricky path, when popularity is equal to being an aspirational object, often leading to violent responses that you’re a bitch if you aren’t attainable, and a whore if you are. Eventually you find yourself beheaded via app and discover the dehumanisations that gives these currencies of attractiveness their power — for all genders.

St. Stephen’s and Sherwood College are among the country’s elite educational institutions, grooming the rich and powerful for generations, a tradition being carried forward by the growing number of private schools today. Many students who were part of the incidents described above, as participants, or as uneasy bystanders, doubtless occupy positions of influence today — in politics, in civil services, in media, in academia, in corporate life. Many would be considered liberal leading lights. None of them, until today, have managed to create structures that naturally incorporate the point of view of anyone except elite heterosexual men — that we know of. Many of them might run the kind of organisations that yielded a bunch of #MeToo stories. Maybe on jolly social occasions, they say to women who object to their wife jokes, ‘yaar stop being such a feminist. You’re too serious’. Well, they’re just good students. They were groomed to decide what is serious and what is not on other people’s behalf. Someone married them, not expecting, or simply going along with, becoming a wife joke. Perhaps their kids go to the ‘good South Delhi schools’ everyone keeps mentioning when they express shock at the Bois Locker Room case.

It’s such a sleight of hand, ‘good’ schools, ‘good’ families, that conflates virtue with privilege. “How can an educated person do this?” people exclaim. It is precisely an educated person who does these things. Elite education is designed as it always was, barring a few cool accessories, to train elite men to dominate other people and express that domination in a variety of ways.

Education is structured to underline the importance of material success and competition at all cost, including the cost of understanding your own pleasures, relationships and emotions, which are considered distractions to be quelled, a source of weakness. Parents focus mostly on whether you are studying, when they think of your future, not about nourishing your inner life. They might notice an issue with your inner life only if you don’t do well at school. Everyone else is your competition. Everything you do requires fitting in but still, having an edge over others. The limit of learning is the exam — not the idea that you will keep learning from life. Exams are war and everyone must be an exam warrior. When we are trained to always go to war, what can we possibly know about how to go to peace?

As you go up the ladder, the self-congratulatory declarations — “it’s just business”, “I’m just being practical” — all mean that empathy and emotion have been successfully numbed, enough, that you can defend the scrapping of labour laws and can go to the government and say, “Do not send migrant labourers home. We may need them for our (just) business.”

The making of chick charts, the rating of girls, the slurs against queer and Dalit colleagues — these are all social reminders that elite, straight men are the ones entitled to define these structures, who get to grant approval and make decisions, in schools and colleges, and later in offices, governments, the internet. Your continued presence is contingent on fitting into this system and not objecting to its ‘just fun’ traditions. They are the foam in a double shot cappuccino of privilege.

Twenty five years after the incident in school, Bela Negi ran into one of her classmates at a school reunion. “He said to me ,‘remember how we gave you bumps, ha ha’. I said, ‘I can’t believe that as a grown up you’re laughing and bragging about it instead of feeling remorse or embarrassment’.” Other male classmates looked uneasy when she brought it up. Women at the party told her ‘forget it, now it’s in the past’.

But it’s not in the past, is it? It is firmly with us in the present — the sexual language used to attack women in a political disagreement online. The baying for sexual violation of Muslim and ‘sickular’ women by right wing men. The number of liberal men named in #MeToo accounts. The calling Safoora Zargar, the arrested member of the Jamia Coordination Committee, prostitute and saying ‘give her a condom’ because she is pregnant — and Muslim and politically active. It is so much with us, that the day the hashtag #boislockerroom started trending I didn’t pay attention because I thought, “it must be some new web series”.

A lot goes into maintaining the illusion that elite men are not sexually violent on a casual and intensified basis all the time. Part of this is the reigning discourse around sexual violence, which privileges the safety of women — elite women — over their freedom. The public space is painted as a dangerous one for women, where they are under threat of being attacked by ‘other’ men — read, lower caste or class, men. If elite men bother to talk about women, it is only to hold them up as emblems of purity or achievement, or to school other men for not knowing how to respect women. (In other words they don’t seem to know how to talk to women, but that’s another discussion).

Being a bro who stands up for feminism is an elite pastime across the political spectrum — sometimes they are scolding creeps in a music video, sometimes they are killing your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. This discussion about ‘others’ is like a curtain. Behind it is the private behaviour of men — and that is never to be discussed. A man who does it is weak. A woman who brings matters private into public light, risks marginalisation and vilification. We have seen that, through domestic violence scandals and sexual harassment cases.

That is why the first responses to many such incidents is to blame women — #girlslockerroom — and then to clamp down on the freedom of women or blame them for acting as if they lived in a world where men’s violence against them is not a given. Boys will be boys, goes the platitude. As if this is an immutable condition and we must all tiptoe around them, which we are constantly, daily being trained to do, lest we provoke their boys-will-be-boys-ism.

The other response is to demand strong punitive action against perpetrators — we don’t mind if boys are boys as long as their privilege does not expose itself through an act of criminal violence. Then, we must teach them a lesson. One sometimes wants to say, but this is the lesson you have been teaching them: of supremacy. All other lessons are sitting in the pocket of that lesson.

***

Interviewed by media, one school principal expressed bewilderment that their students could be involved in the Bois Locker Room because “the school has regularly provided inputs on gender”.

At every school and college where I, or my colleagues at Agents of Ishq have done a talk or workshop, in the last two years, young women have come up to discuss, exactly the same experience of the Bois Locker Room case. They don’t know how to counter the distasteful misogyny that the cool, edgy filmmakers and forthcoming media sensations of the future subject them to. “Why don’t you say something?” I ask. “Because I don’t feel like being rude to a friend.” “Because they call me a prude or they might think I’m un-cool.” “Why do you care what they think?” I asked a young woman. She kept quiet. She knows in theory, that she need not care, but the world has not reshaped itself enough to make this automatic and there is very little conversation to help her figure out the way to do this positively, not negatively as a victim or an aggressor.

If you are a woman working in a cool corporate job, media, art films and so on, you will recognise this experience. In elite worlds where cool is a very necessary currency, you try to hold on to it tenuously, timorously. To not accept the banal misogyny and poor humour of men, marks you as un-cool. Despite being a grown woman, you must carry out an adolescent exhibitionism while talking about sex, to show you are blasé, so you may be accepted as one of the guys — and it’s simply a different version of young schoolgirls posing in particular ways, to gain importance in this world. Even my gay friends have called me a prude (and consider, I run a platform about sex) when I tell them not to bore me with misogynistic TikTok clips. If you don’t talk about sex the way men have been trained to talk about it, then you are a prude and simply not cool enough for school.

The workshops might not be useless. But they are not the real answer to finding our way out of this dystopia. Education, like patriarchy, is a structure. Just dropping new content into it doesn’t change what it does. In the structure of competitive education, those gender and sexuality workshops too can become one more competitive module you learn to ace — because your basic purpose has not altered. The same boys who are in Bois Locker Room, might easily be acing the Model UN and debating circuits, the social media conversations, saying all the right things about gender bias, toxic masculinity and inter-sectionality.

Liberal parents often show off their children’s by-rote sensitive (but not always good) writings — the passionate awareness of being a victim of gender discrimination, the performative pain of class inequity. It is not so different from saying ‘uncle ko poem sunao’.

The same by-rote politics will manifest later in ‘women-centric’ films made by men — liberal men castigating others for not knowing how to treat women. The right gestures will be made — like putting your mother’s first name as the middle name for the entire crew, in a sudden burst of born-again feminist consciousness. The catechism or rights-based discourse will be read out. And the performative mea culpas and ritualistic discussion of toxic masculinity will follow.

In a world where life is an exam — where you have to know the poem, not become it — everyone learns the right things to say, in order to win approval. And in the same way, everyone also knows what to hide.

Education and all the resources we put into it are about succeeding in public life — to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet, as TS Eliot wrote. We do not value the private sphere enough to put thought into an education for that, mostly hidden, part of life. We can be depressed but not surprised at the inability of young men to stand up for more humane relationships with women, sexuality, desire, because that has never been part of the syllabus anywhere. They have no language for it. Young women don’t have the means to recognise it — they still imagine that a man with the right terminology will also be decent. They have only been taught to think of men in terms of public attributes, not private ones. It would be hard to find the profile of a successful man in the Indian media, which mentions what kind of friend or partner he is, or asks what he feels about the world of love and emotion.

Sex is even more separated from the discussion. It is never discussed as part of life. It is a place of secrecy, shame, embarrassment and judgment, only made public through lewd jokes or lectures about violence. The only sources of sexual knowledge — in an experiential and not clinical sense — is mainstream pornography, which fragments sex into discrete acts and bodies into body parts — and online frat house culture. Mixed with a cultural universe and an educational system that emphasises hierarchy, disconnection and competitiveness, this gives us a recipe for self-hate. It leaves young people of all genders with a complete lack of resources to manage the world of desire that surges within them. The only language young people have is a second-hand one, and how can you find your own self, when you are always speaking in someone’s given language?

At the very least, Bois Locker Room may remind us that we need sex-education, which is age-appropriate — a curriculum that grows in scope along with the child — and that it should be comprehensive: looking at how health, desire, orientation, emotion, politics and culture intersect to create a sexual world.

But the task before is a more radical and political one. If education enslaves us, compelling us to be part of herds, gangs, clubs and cliques, then what does an education that liberates us look like? If education fragments us, keeping our minds, bodies and hearts separated like Science, Arts and Commerce, what is the education that integrates all these different aspects of being a person look like?

The bandying of phrases like toxic masculinity and that most Brahmanical of words, ‘problematic’, is not the road to discovering this education and this existence. The idea that boys have to be ‘fixed’ is itself a violence that does not acknowledge that every one of us lives in the patriarchy, is shaped by it and is also wounded by it. Such an attacking language only serves to harden the divisions and make the conversation inimical.

Three years ago I went to a town in Uttar Pradesh to do a workshop in a programme on masculinity. It was an all-men’s group and it was exhausting. They trotted out the politically correct self-analysis about masculinity. But probed to speak beyond it, about their emotions and relationships, about areas of doubt and experience, they congealed together into a sticky mass of resistance. They made jokes, sometimes demeaning each other and challenged the trainers by trivialising each question.

But when we recorded their narratives individually, very different behaviours emerged. There was a small percentage of absolutely intractable men I have come to categorise as Sententious Lecturers and Eternally Wounded. One kind speaks in lofty proclamations that mean very little. The other refuses to let their wound of rejection or hurt heal, and turns it into a justification for seeing numbness as strength and love and emotion as weakness. “Now I only use girls,” one said. “If I like a girl, I don’t sleep with her, because I won’t be able to give her the love she expects.” The world of emotion is expressed as an impossibility. But the majority of other men spanned the range. Some were tentative about their relationships, some confessing to hurt and inadequacy, even depression. Some laughed at their own sentimentality or discussed wanting more confidence, more love, less pressure.

Detached from the herd, and spoken to as individuals, about their emotions, they were quite different from each other and did not adhere to a fixed identity of gender and its associated behaviours. They did not have the confidence in themselves as individuals, to be themselves in front of a larger group of men.

In that they were reminiscent of the young women, who approached me in distress about the demeaning way their male friends discussed women, their conflict between seeing distasteful aspects of a friend you liked otherwise. These young women also did not have enough language to think through these contradictions.

Put very simply, we don’t give young people the means to see themselves as complex individuals — nor each other. Political language is important to identify structural issues, but in its current form where it essentially only knows how to describe a problem, it is insufficient to enable journeys of transformation and spark imaginations of change.

Education helps you to fit in with the herd to serve the larger power structures in a society. If you are very elite, you can learn the double speak of benefitting from this system, while also critiquing the system for your US college application essay.

An education which grants you immunity from the herd has to give you belief in your inner life. It has to grant importance to emotions, to desires, to pleasure, to poetry — to the ill-defined idea of personal life, an inner life — alongside the public.

I know it sounds utopian, but I don’t believe it is impossible. What it does ask from us, is to abandon the old system of report cards, to discard the traditional indicators of success and impact.

At Agents of Ishq, once we liberated ourselves from the logic of just garnering numbers for content or even working with a fixed curriculum, we began a journey that has constantly shown us new aspects of what young people need to strengthen their personal lives — they need information, they need conversation, they need a new language which fluidly incorporates love, sex, desire, attraction, lust, queerness, consent, gender identity, affection, friendship, rejection, relationality — not a language which puts all these in silos. Think of it as literacy in intimacy. Knowledge of how to relate with others on their own terms.

Perhaps all of education needs to be reimagined the way sexuality education has been reimagined. Perhaps our inner lives and our inter-dependence have to lead the way more, in redefining education. As we confront disconnection in myriad ways with pandemic isolation, we can see that we need a politics, a philosophy, a practice of relationality with others. Where the understanding that sexualness is mutually exchanged, not simply conquered and captured, is interwined with understanding that our emotional and personal worlds can be places of sustenance not weakness, to be attacked or guarded. And that is also intertwined with being able to see that resources are something to be shared for mutual survival, not hoarded, and grudgingly given or strategically taken away.

The Bois Locker Room and the crisis of our society in its current breakdown have a lot to say about each other. Both of them tell us that we have reached the limits of the system we live in. If the way out is together, then we need an education on what it means to do that.

Paromita Vohra is a filmmaker and writer whose work focuses on gender, feminism, urban life, love, desire and popular culture and spans many forms including documentary, fiction, print, video and sound installation. She is founder and creative director at Agents of Ishq.

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