Author: CM

One of the most significant things I learned from watching Major! was the formation and impact of the TGI Justice Project (TGIJP), especially since this is an organization I had never heard of. It’s remarkable how actionable this organization is in their mission to resist against human rights abuses, particularly police violence and the mass incarceration of transgender POC. Learning about the direct action and advocacy the organization practices—including the relationships and outreach they maintain with currently incarcerated people—was really telling. It’s also significant that this organization comprises so many transgender women of color, many of whom were previously incarcerated. These voices are so thoroughly marginalized and underrepresented in society, even in many outlets for social justice and advocacy, so it’s remarkably meaningful for these voices to have such a firm, actionable place in TGIJP.

Reflecting on the film, something I’d like to learn more about is organizing to hold law enforcement accountable with respect to transgender rights. The wild disproportion of transgender incarceration was previously unfamiliar to me, so I absolutely want to stay better informed about this moving forward. And I believe accountability—policing the police—is important to this end.

Ophelian, A. (Director). (2015). Major! [Motion Picture]. United States: What Do We Want Films.

This poster struck me as relevant and interesting with respect to the stigma of AIDS. This is clearly reflected in the paragraph entirely dedicated to conveying that the confidentiality and anonymity of anyone who calls will be maintained. Even the headline of the poster, implying that it wouldn’t be right for a child to learn about AIDS from anyone but their parent, perpetuates this stigma. I believe this relates to the idea that sex—especially LGBTQ+ sex, more strongly associated with AIDS—is something to be kept fully separated from the public domain, as discussed by Berlant and Warner and resonated throughout U.S. history.

Sources:

• Pennsylvania Department of Health. If Anybody Tells My Kid About AIDS, It’s Going To Be Me! 1989. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, USA. http://aep.lib.rochester.edu/node/40852
• Lauren Berlant and Michael Warner, “Sex in Public,” Critical Inquiry 24, No. 2 (Winter, 1998): 547-566.

Beyond the national administration’s blatant transgender discrimination over the past year, several state legislatures are currently working to impede transgender rights. Voters in Anchorage, Alaska will soon decide whether to pass Proposition 1 (http://sos.mt.gov/Portals/142/Elections/archives/2010s/2018/I-183.pdf?dt=1502668800034), which would amend an earlier nondiscrimination accordance and dictate bathroom according to sex rather than gender identity. Massachusetts, Montana, Iowa, and Kentucky are other states that may be facing similar legislation later this year (https://www.lgbtqnation.com/2018/02/transgender-rights-targeted-nationwide-ballot-measures-bathroom-bills/). #TransRightsAreHumanRights #BathroomBill #LGBTQdiscrimination #LGBTQexperiencesUSA

One set of items that stood out to me from Rare Books and Special Collections was the collection of articles on the distinct “Perversity to Diversity” art exhibits held at the University of Rochester in 1991 and 1992. This included the two Empty Closet articles on the original “Perversity to Diversity” exhibit assigned earlier in the class as well as a Campus Times article on a forum held to discuss the exhibit and another Empty Closet article discussing the sequel exhibit curated the following spring: “Perversity to Diversity: Gaze Again.” This set of articles resonated with me because they gave insight into: 1) the visceral negativity from the non-LGBTQ+ community in response to the original exhibit, expressed in comments referring to the exhibit as “sick” and “violent” and “degrading”; and 2) the choice of the LGBTQ+ community to make the sequel exhibit less bold in its depictions of their culture. I believe the inclusion of this collection would be important to campus and city communities because it illustrates just how lightly the LGBTQ+ community has been expected to tread in public even within the past two decades.

I recently attended the College Feminists’ production of The Vagina Monologues. The poster for the event included a disclaimer that anyone seeking disability accommodations for the event should contact the University Intercessor at least five business days in advance. I’m happy the College Feminists included this on their poster; but I’m markedly disappointed with the University’s required time frame to grant such accommodations. This is quite literally a message that anyone in need of accommodations on a decidedly inaccessible campus must make an explicit arrangement five business days in advance to exist on this campus. Why is this the case? Why is a university with such financial and labor resources unable to prioritize simple requests for accommodations with lesser notice? I don’t believe there’s a real lack of capability; I believe this simply reflects the belief that the disabled community is a burden and their needs are appropriately handled as a standard business transaction.

One of the most interesting points addressed in the article was the significance of who (in the queer community) was present for the Stonewall rebellion. Armstrong and Crage write, “In contrast to Compton’s, those on the scene included both marginalized and more privileged elements of the homosexual community” (737). This is significant because it was these more privileged activists that had the capacity to draw media attention and resources needed to ensure the commemoration of the event. In contrast, the queer activists in San Francisco – who comprised “white, middle-class, gender-normative older men” (Armstrong & Crage, 733) – were hardly a part of the Compton’s Cafeteria rebellion and refused to support the patrons because their behavior “threatened homophile accommodation with the police” (Armstrong & Crage, 733). This is important to keep in mind in contemporary LGBTQ+ activism and organizing: Privilege has a long history of confounding and hindering progress – even within the LGBTQ+ community – and we should be sure to use whatever privilege we have to support marginalized groups within our broader community.

Prior to these readings, I shamefully knew nothing about Marsha Johnson and Sylvia Rivera. Sylvia Rivera was raised by her grandmother from an early age after her mother committed suicide and tried to kill her as well (Rivera, 40). The prejudice she experienced in these early years contributed to her choice to move out on her own at the age of ten. Later that decade, she came out as a drag queen (Rivera, 12). She’s received credit for escalating the Stonewall protest into a riot by throwing the first beer bottle on the night of June 28, 1969 (Brink), a riot she was excited to be a part of because it distinctly gave her the notion that “the revolution is here” (Rivera, 14). She continued to have significant influence in transgender activism and was crucial in the formation of Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR) (Rivera, 13). She continued to address the lack of transgender representation and rights throughout her life, notably in her critique of the Gay Liberation Front’s choices to ignore transgender people in her speech, “Y’all Better Quiet Down” (Rivera, 30).

Shoulders to Stand On is a documentary of a largely undocumented history of LGBTQ experiences and accomplishments in Rochester in the early 1970s. Beginning with the influence of the Stonewall Riots and the subsequent formation of The University of Rochester’s Gay Liberation Front, there is an emphasis on experiences within and around the University. The majority of this history was very much new to me, and watching traces of the LBGTQ community and its development on this campus four decades prior to my time here was really fulfilling. One especially meaningful part of this history I learned of was Gay Liberation Front’s development of the queer radio programs Lesbian Nation and Green Thursdays. Throughout the hosts’ discussions of their broadcasts, their primary emphasis of its importance was not its purpose as a creative outlet or a space for their personal experiences; it was providing something for lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth to feel less isolated and alone. Gay Liberation Front’s desire to positively affect others beyond their campus seems to have been clearly and significantly characteristic of the organization.

From Perversity to Diversity was an exhibit of gay, lesbian, and bisexual art, literature, and culture on display at The University of Rochester from late February to late March in 1991. The exhibit, described in the April 1991 edition of The Empty Closet, sparked considerable controversy because of the direct and explicit nature of some of the pieces on display, like a t-shirt of two women having oral sex. The exhibit also shed light on the disparity between straight and queer people’s ability to openly express themselves without fear, as well stated by Michele Moore in her article “Personal view: learning from a confrontation” in the same newspaper edition. The date of this newspaper edition — which I found by searching the title of the art exhibit in The University of Rochester library archives — is what led me to discern the date of the exhibit.