fictile:
Matt Stiles mapped London riot incidents alongside income levels
Looks like a pretty strong correlation to me.
(via)
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@thequeerproletariat-blog
fictile:
Matt Stiles mapped London riot incidents alongside income levels
Looks like a pretty strong correlation to me.
(via)
“I’m intersex, I’m queer & I do a lot of work within LGBT communities. Increasingly, I see LGBT being extended to “LGBTI,” and every time I see that acronym, I’m filled with dread. That’s just the tip of the iceberg—increasingly, individuals, groups and organizations within the community are extending the acronym ad infinitum, to “LGBTQQIPA,” or even further. Today, I want to write a little bit about why that feels so problematic, and ways of approaching identity inclusion in LGBT communities and movements.
First things first: in my experience, when someone bemoans the ever-lengthening “alphabet soup,” it’s usually someone who’s relatively privileged within the community, talking about how it’s “too difficult to keep up with all these letters,” and getting irritated with having to track who our communities and movements are claiming to represent. This is often combined with a hint of fear that, as our communities and movements expand, their voice and needs will be diluted or deprioritized. This isn’t that. This is a way of looking critically at our history, our communities, and our missed opportunities and applying those lessons to our collective future.
the problems with inclusion
Inclusion is a lovely impulse. Without taking a genuinely inclusive approach, we contribute to the erasure of communities we don’t represent. And, frankly, when we don’t prioritize multifaceted inclusion, we don’t get to the root of the distorted ways that our society makes sense of sex, gender and sexuality. Yes, let’s create a movement for any & all of us who exist outside of the sex/gender/sexuality norm! Come one, come all for the gender justice revolution! I’m in!
But here’s the thing: when we add a new letter to our collective acronym, we also make ourselves responsible for speaking for that identity/community. But when we do so, we don’t make ourselves accountable to actually doing that work, much less doing it in a way that’s accountable to those communities. Here are a few of the challenges of the inclusion approach:
We assume that, because our title is inclusive, our work is inclusive. When we discuss the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (DADT), we almost always use “LGBT” as a way of describing the people it will impact. Except it won’t actually remedy much for trans people in the military. Many of us who aren’t trans-identified don’t understand that—and the routine use of the full LGBT acronym keeps us from thinking regularly about who our work impacts. Better, I would argue, to be clear that policies like Don’t Ask Don’t Tell primarily impact cisgender gay and bi people.
We don’t restructure our priorities, as witnessed by the continued prioritization of primarily cisgender gay issues like repealing DADT and the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) over winning federal protections against employment discrimination, which deeply impact a much larger portion of the community, especially those of us who experience transphobia, classism, racism, and life in isolated/rural communities.
We don’t change our leadership structures. Most boards require major fundraising. That will likely be a problem for working class queer people, trans people (the majority of whom are un- or underemployed), and LGBT people of color (who are more likely to raise children, and therefore less likely to have disposable income).
We don’t make our work accountable to newly-included communities. We don’t elevate intersex people into leadership positions. We don’t set up advisory boards of same gender loving people. And we don’t intentionally open ourselves up to critiques of our work and programming from the communities we represent.
I’m not saying that we should revert to being a primarily white, class-privileged, cisgender gay & lesbian movement—quite the opposite. I’m saying that when we expand the movement, we should do so in a thoughtful, deep, reciprocal and accountable way. And while some of us have figured out how to do that, most of us haven’t.
(Note: this is very much focused on a “we” that’s white cisgender gay people. That’s not meant to be exclusive, it’s meant to be real about where power is centered in our movements and communities, and who’s elevated to positions to hold it.)
why it keeps happening
With all that, why do we keep seeing these pushes for inclusion? Because, for those of us who are allies to those newly-included communities, we see the benefits. Inclusion pacifies guilt. It allows us to feel as if we’re on the cutting edge of progressive identity politics. And frankly, it makes us sound like the most progressive person in the room, without requiring us to do anything substantive to represent those communities. In other words, we can talk the talk without having to walk the walk.
None of this is bad in and of itself—but it does present problems if we act strictly out of self-interest, and don’t actually listen to the communities we’re claiming to represent. The point of being an ally isn’t to better yourself or your image—it’s to work to support communities that face a different type of oppression than you. And that support must exist on those communities’ terms.
action steps
When inclusion can be so problematic, what can you do? Here are some options:
Speak for yourself. Speak from your own experience—don’t try to speak for the needs of other communities if you haven’t been asked or invited to do so.
Include a community when they ask you to. It’s a basic ally principle: do what you’re asked to do when you’re asked to do it. Anything short of that is hijacking the priorities and needs of the community you’re trying to support.
I agree with much of what this is saying, however, I don't see it as a critique of the inclusion approach. Rather, this post represents a good critique of how we too often use the inclusion approach, and how we can improve the inclusion approach. I don't think that the problems mentioned here are inherent to an inclusion approach, and I think that we can still go about social justice work using this model... except, with the more comprehensive, sincere attitude toward inclusion recommended by the above post.
criptheatrequeer:
technicolortimecoat:
We really need to stop using the term ally. This applies to all of us in anti-oppression work, whether in the work in question we are part of the oppressed or oppressor class*. This is not about people who self-identify as allies and don’t work on their privilege and refuse to listen to members of the oppressed group, but to all people who might self-identify as an ally to an oppressed group. Ally is an inherently problematic. It:
1.) Presupposes you are doing a good job, and by its very use, is a coercive request to members of the oppressed group to give approval to the person in question, and more so, it is linked to an expectation of gratitude for attempting to do two things:
a) Acknowledge and work on** one’s privilege as a member of an oppressor class.
b) Helping to make voices of the oppressed class heard, and actively standing up in solidarity with the oppressed class.
(a) is just part of being a decent human being. If you are not acknowledging your various privileges and trying to understand what it is to be a member of an oppressor class, you going from benefiting from an oppressive system (which, as a member of the oppressor class, you can’t help but do) to contributing your energies to maintaining and strengthening that oppressive system. (b) is working in solidarity, and working in solidarity is a necessary part of a strong, broad-reaching anti-oppression movement.
2.) Distracts attention from members of the oppressed class and focuses on the self-identified ally. Anti-racist, anti-cissexist, anti-sexist, anti-ablist, anti-classist work needs to focus on the voices and experiences of the oppressed class, not the members of the oppressor class who are attempting to be decent human beings and/or working in solidarity.
3.) By self-identifying as an ally, you are building an identity on others’ oppression. This is profoundly appropriative, because it is making oppression you do not experience part of your own identity. It also furthers the Othering of oppressed classes, as it once again has people defining themselves in terms of not being the Other, and reinforcing the view of the Other at the margins.
So, if you’re acknowledging your privilege, seeing how you systematically benefit from it, and centering the concerns of those who do not share said privilege, you’re trying to be a decent human being. Congratulations. Have a cookie. And if you’re actively engaging in anti-oppression work in areas in which you’re not oppressed, you’re doing solidarity work. Just say you’re working in solidarity with members of the oppressed class. This centers the work being done, and the members of the oppressed class, and not you. Because when you’re a member of the oppressor class in dealing with a particular oppression, It. Is. Not. About. You.
*Yes, I recognize we are all variously members of the oppressor class and members of the oppressed class when it comes to various oppressions. Kyriarchy is ever shifting, and we all have some privilege, somewhere.
**By “work on” I mean being attentive to how one systematically benefits from it, and trying to center the concerns of those who do not share the privilege.
I can’t remember how I found this now. It was in a list of links somewhere online but I’ve been browsing so much today I just can’t be bothered to look again.
I’ve read this before—I may even have linked it before!—but I still really like it.
I, for one, disagree.
Ally, as an identity that is completely self-assigned and unconfirmed by those with whom a person is an ally to, might fit in with most of these arguments. However, the ways we (those of us in social justice/anti-oppression work) use "Ally" is very different:
1) RE: presupposes good job/expects gratitude - "Ally", like an other identity, has a fluid, individualized definition. I've met self-identified allies who feel that they're allies just because they have gay best friends, and I've met self-identified allies who read volumes of queer literature and actively protest oppression. Either of these folks are contributing to a more tolerant society and a better place to live, whether in small ways or in big ways. As far as I'm concerned, that's sufficient to call oneself an "Ally" to a cause. Some allies are better more active and involved than others, and that's okay.
I appreciate my allies. I appreciate that they exist, that there are those out there who don't share my identity yet sympathize with it. Yes, I realize that sympathy alone doesn't do much to end oppression, but it still makes the world a better place to live in. Acknowledging and working on all of one's privilege is fucking difficult; anybody who at least makes an active effort to do so is worthy of a bit of my appreciation. In fact, allies often share in the oppression of the groups they advocate for simply by voluntarily being an ally. Allies risk sacrificing their privileges from being perceived as part of the groups they advocate for.
2) RE: distracts attention - REAL TALK: Allies don't get more attention in anti-oppression movements than those who are oppressed. OUT Magazine covers are not representative of how anti-oppression movements really work. In fact, the central role allies play in making far-reaching social/political change is often overlooked in how our histories are written. Male-identified feminists are regularly dismissed, heterosexual allies have their sexualities regularly questioned.
3) RE: build identity on others' oppression - Allies are Others, too. Or perhaps they fill that grey area between non-Others and Others. The thing is, identifying as an "Ally" places somebody on the outer crust of their privileged group. The ally might sit on a cloud, but the ally reaches deep down from that cloud to grasp the hands of oppressed groups. The ally works to pull people onto that cloud, bring that cloud closer to the earth, form a connection between the two "worlds" all at once. "Ally" is not a label, it is an identity, and it profoundly affects the experiences of those who carry it.
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Now, who the hell are we to dictate and qualify another person's identity? If somebody identifies as an "Ally", then cool. It's not up to me or anybody else to say "No, you're not!" or "You're not enough of an Ally!" I wouldn't be too fond of anybody telling me that I'm "not Queer enough" or that "Multi-racial isn't a real racial identity." When you take up an identity, it's important that you do so for a good reason, but at the same time, you should not have to defend yourself for who you are.
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However, I do have my own qualms with the term "Ally" (and not the identity "Ally"). I'll admit that this idea came from a friend and not me, but does "Ally" reinforce war rhetoric? Does "Ally" fit in with the same rhetoric as "Fight for equality" and "Stand at the front lines of equality"? When we use terms that connote war in our struggle to end oppression, we produce a hostile environment for change. The language we use to end oppression ought to be that of collaboration, connection, and resolution, not language of violence, compromise, and winners and losers. What do you think?
Any of you know where I could find a good, queer pro-sex/sex-positive blog? I'm looking for more opinions on sexual liberation and expression.
Hi :) i was wondering if you could help. My friend Shrouk is originally from Egypt.Basically,the people who know her over there have found bout her orientation and it’s illegal for her to be gay and aethiast and not a virgin. If she gets sent back to there she will get alot of abuse and be forced to marry a man and get circumsised and i really dont want her to go and suffer all that.She’s already appealled in court for a visa but it’s been rejected which is why she needs to get as many people as possible to sign the petition.Shroukie is a very wonderful person with high morals and ethics,shes got a very big heart and cares about her friends and is very smart,she is a very passionate inspiring person. She’s got a lovely personality and is very smiley and fun.Please sign the petition and get as many people you know who’d support it to sign it too.Thanks very much xxhttp://www.gopetition.com/petition/40922.html
Signed it. Personally, I wish our conversations about LGBT immigration centered more around asylum than binational marriage.
Just watched Transamerica again today, and I forgot how much I truly love this movie. One of my favorite aspects of it is the element of class, affluence, and poverty featured in it. Bri is a waitress at a restaurant and telemarketer, and seems to devote every penny she makes to transitioning. Toby is a sex worker whose highest ambition is to work in a pet store. Bri's parents, including her highly disapproving mother, live in total affluence. While these factors generally go overlooked or downplayed, they play pivotal roles in the story depicted in Transamerica.
deadkennedysandattractivemen:
A punk stops during a gay pride parade to allow a mesmerized child to touch his jacket spikes.
This is an image that defies race, defies gender norms, defies difference as a divisive force. Why is this not the popular image of gay/queer liberation?
queerinsurrection:
allioette:
whatfreshhellisthis:
Put simply, recently I have heard queer being used to describe a political stance with particular links to pro LGBQAP and T* rights and activism. These people say that anyone, no matter the sexual or gender orientation of the person, can consider themselves queer.
Right.
As a queer person, in both sexuality and gender, I find this incredibly appropriative. The word queer was used to oppress people of sexualities, genders and gender presentation considered ‘outside the norm’ of het, cisness. It is an act of reclamation to use that word to describe myself in a positive way.
As such, sorry hetero, cis folks, it is not your word. It is not a word that has been used to oppress and degrade you. Calling yourself queer to describe your political stance just feels appropriative to me, as you are stripping the words of its history and context of oppression, and reusing it for yourselves, the people not oppressed.
Anyone else got any feelings on this matter, particularly any non-hetero and/or non-cis folks who use queer to cover their politics?
I agree completely. Queer is not a political stance. If you have never and will never face the oppression that people of sexualities and gender identities outside the norm, you do not get to reclaim the word.
Queer most certainly CAN be a political stance. Why do we have queer theory? The point is to navigate a heteronormative society and to displace categories and words and spaces from systems of oppression. That’s what reclaiming is. Queer is a reclamation. Why can’t we queer politics? Politics is a sphere where heteronormativity runs absolutely rampant, so why should we not want to, as queers, displace it from its oppressive mechanisms of social control?
I STRONGLY DISAGREE.
You know, honestly, we need to redirect our energies away from these binary formations of political organizing. Queer / straight binaries are stupid, just like black / white binaries reinforce privilege and oppression or liberal / conservative binaries blind us from structural problems that effect us all. That said, queer is a non-totalizing term. What does that mean? In the mumbo jumbo of some brilliant queer theorists, queer is used to explain the idea that we aren’t self-transparent with our identities, we cannot put a label on us that will fully explain who we are. We don’t know who we are, and labels will always fail. If you want to imagine your subjectivity (multiplicity of identities that intersect to create your sense of Self) as a globe with multiple borders of countries representing each identity, queer allows you to shift these borders around. In this sense, queer is more of a politic at APPROACHING identity rather than an identity itself. Queerness is giving you flexibility and fluidity with your identity, instead of fixing yourself in to a tight box of “man” or “gay.” You approach these categories with caution, and a queer eye. Why is all this meta-physical theory useful? It allows us to realize that everyone is born and essentially queer—most people choose to disavow their queerness because of a damaging and corruptive socialization process in relation to sexuality, gender, identity, etc. If we are able to organize under these understandings of queerness and identity, there is a radical potential to create solidarity and coalitions across all communities and spectrums.
This is not to say that we have to erase the violence that “queer” (read, LGBTQQIA) people have experienced, nor does it mean we have to explain that oppression. In the words of Audre Lorde, difference is strength. Let our differences, our struggles, our experiences guide us to building rather than destroying bridges. Let us not forget our histories but rather, let us mobilize against oppression that hurts us all. So yes, queer is all of us. Queer is straight people, the sex worker on the street, the CEO of a business, Obama, Hitler, and everyone else. In recognizing everyone as queer, we are able to understand our fluidity as beautiful, and recognize that we need others—and their differences—to understand ourselves.
THIS is why I follow QueerInsurrection.
thedeadline:
Mother Jones:
“A Harvard business prof and a behavioral economist recently asked more than 5,000 Americans how they thought wealth is distributed in the United States. Most thought that it’s more balanced than it actually is. Asked to choose their ideal distribution of wealth, 92% picked one that was even more equitable.”
More charts…
My doctors agreed, as did my physical therapy team. However, the insurance company did not. Since I was a "community ambulator," coverage was denied... Luckily we were able to manage the finances and a few weeks later a sleek black Quickie Rigid came home with its wheels cambered to make it look (and function) like a racing chair.
- John R. Killacky, "When A Wheelchair Means Freedom", Bent Voices
What if Killacky couldn't get his finances together? The quality of his life hinged on his ability to pay for accommodations to his disability. If that's not a class issue, then what is?
In the posting addressed to “union brothers and sisters,” Palin says Wisconsin taxpayers shouldn’t be asked to pay for benefits “that are not sustainable.” She says “real solidarity means everyone being willing to sacrifice.”
Sarah Palin Addresses Wisconsin Protesters: You Must Be ‘Willing To Sacrifice’ (via radicallyhottoff)(via champagnecandy)
“Real solidarity.” Take those words outcha mouth, Palin. The ruling class is not willing to sacrifice. Not willing to sacrifice their deep tax cuts, not willing to sacrifice their record profits in order to make some more hires, not willing to sacrifice for the sake of public health, the environment, their employees …
I want to give the upper classes something to be afraid of.
(via thecranium)
If you have come here to help me you are wasting your time, but if you have come here because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.
Lilla Watson, Aboriginal educator, Brisbane, Australia (via allthingsblk)
- Elton John, Rolling Stone, June 1971
From the whiter-than-white pelvic thrusts of Elvis Presley to the (still whiter-than-white) Grunge movement of the 1990's, Rock'n'Roll generally seems separate from the Queer community. But as rockstars over the past 60 decades have bent gender norms, flipped off the mainstream, and embraced sexuality, you've got to admit that Rock and Queer have a great deal in common. Granted, Rock has a terrible track record of sexism, white privilege, and homophobia. But is that changing? Could Rock'n'Roll-- a movement and genre that has made itself accessible to rich, poor, and everywhere in between-- become an ally to and movement among other Queer movements?
When Employment Non-Discrimination was passed in Congress, it did not include gender identity/expression.
How do discriminatory hiring practices reinforce the class inequalities of queer people?
Challenge Day, from what I know about it, is a change-making program meant to enhance the level of tolerance, diversity, and acceptance in schools. It's a program that bonds students and allows safe spaces to exist in an otherwise dangerous, intimidating, stressful environment. But which students, and which schools, is this program bringing together?
A message to motivate employers to join progayjobs.com, a job search service.
Now, it's easy to point out everything that's wrong with this. But, evaluating both the positive and negative messages in this snapshot, what does it mean to market the lesbian or gay employee?
New songwriter-turned-pop-star on the scene, fresh from the U.K., Jessie J.
Her new video is chock-full of images of gender non-conforming women and the mythical underground world where these women get together. I'm posting this partially because the video begs for a discussion on sex and gender, partially for fun.
Thoughts?