Author: SB

Big Freedia is a musician and rapper from New Orleans, closely associated with the #bouncemusic genre. Bounce music itself has roots in New Orleans, and Big Freedia is credited with helping spread it into mainstream culture, along with the associated #twerk dance (although twerking has largely been appropriated by white people and is now more thought of as being linked with Miley Cyrus, rather than with the communities that actually originated it). Big Freedia was born Freddie Ross, and although she prefers she/her #pronouns (but responds to either he/him or she/her), she is not #transgender and she considers herself a gay man. I think it is really significant to have mainstream icons who deconstruct gender in this way. The fact that she is a cisgender man who uses she pronouns and who wears her hair and clothing in whatever way she wants helps to question the notion that pronouns, hairstyles, clothes, and so on are necessarily connected with particular genders, and opens up more freedom for everyone—not just trans and non-binary people—to choose whatever pronouns and presentations of themselves they want. It is also important that she is fairly well-known—she even appeared in Beyoncé’s “Formation”—since that helps spread this message to a wider population than just queer communities.

#lgbtqexperiencesusa 

Hutt, John. “Big Freedia on Miley Cyrus and ‘Transforming One Twerker at a Time.’” Out Magazine, Here Publishing, 10 September 2013. https://www.out.com/entertainment/interviews/2013/09/10/big-freedia-queen-bounce-miley-cyrus-twerking-gender

Image Credits:

Big Freedia on “Big Freedia: Queen of Bounce.” Billboard, 7 May 2014. https://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/the-juice/6077622/big-freedia-queen-of-bounce-season-2-trailer-video-exclusive

Big Freedia. Out Magazine, Here Publishing, 10 September 2013. https://www.out.com/entertainment/interviews/2013/09/10/big-freedia-queen-bounce-miley-cyrus-twerking-gender

SB

In any grocery store, the strong prevalence of #gendered products is hard to miss. Most of the time, this gendering is completely unnecessary: soaps, deodorant, hair color, razors, clothing, and birthday cards (generally) all provide the same function regardless of who’s using them, and there is no reason why the smell, the images used, and so on should be cause for restricting items to only men or only women. This takes a particularly heavy toll on #trans and #nonbinary people, and I can speak from personal experience how difficult it is having to misgender myself, simply because I need to use a product where every option has some binary gender attached to it. Issues may arise for binary trans people as well, for example, if they have to buy something like vitamins which are specific to their sex coercively assigned at birth, but which instead make reference to gender in conflict with their actual gender identity. What is ultimatley at issue is that under the #consumerism and #capitalism -based culture that we live in, we are forced through our purchases to participate in, support, and perpetuate a system which forces everyone to be categorized by binary gender as early as birth (gendered birth cards, gender reveal parties, etc.), which reinforces #stereotypes of the images, colors, smells, and activities that people in those gender categories are required to conform to, and which lacks—or rather does not make the effort to offer—a trans-inclusive language of talking about the products that do have to be particular to different types of bodies and to different physiologies based on the sex assigned at birth, the current bodily sex, and so on.

#lgbtqexperiencesusa

SB

Elmo Avet as the Marquis de Vaudreuil and other Carnival celebrants on Royal Street. New Orleans Magazine, January 2015. Historic New Orleans Collection, Gift of Mr. Clay Watson. http://www.myneworleans.com/New-Orleans-Magazine/January-2015/IN-THE-KINGDOM-OF-QUEENS/

Every year, parades, balls, and other festivities during the #mardigras /#carnival season in New Orleans are hosted by official, recognized organizations called Krewes. The Krewe of Yuga was the first Carnival #krewe formed by and for members of the #LGBT community, although it was never granted an official charter. The gay culture was vibrant in the 1950s, in spite of criminalization and the intolerance under McCarthyism, and it was out of this culture and community that the idea for an exclusively gay Carnival krewe developed. The first ball of the Krewe of Yuga was held in 1958, featuring extravagant costumes, plenty of glitter, sequins, and jewels, and a crowning of Yuga royalty. Unfortunately, there are no available images of the Yuga balls themselves, but the picture above gives an idea of what some of the costumes may have looked like (except they were probably much more fabulous). However, at the 1962 Yuga ball, as Elmo Avet was about to be crowned the fifth Yuga Regina, the police raided the event—calling it a “lewd stag party.” Almost 100 people were arrested and crowded into prison cells, and others were forced to flee into the nearby forest, chased by attack dogs. This #policebrutality meant the end of the Krewe of Yuga, but a strong legacy was left behind. The original founders persisted, and the Krewe of Petronius was formed, this time obtaining an official charter. Other members went on to found other LGBT-specific Krewes, including the Mystic Krewe of Celestial Knights, the Krewe of Amon-Ra, the Krewe of Armeinius, and the Lords of Leather. These krewes, along with newer krewes such as Satyricon, Queenateenas, Mwindo, and Narcissus, continue to hold balls and to form a strong gay Carnival tradition to this day.

#lgbtqexperiencesusa

Smith, Howard Philips. “The Royal Krewe of Yuga and the Birth of Gay Carnival in New Orleans.” Advocate.com, Here Publishing, 11 January 2018. https://www.advocate.com/books/2018/1/11/royal-krewe-yuga-and-birth-gay-carnival-new-orleans

SB

 

I had known beforehand that communities and families of trans and gender-nonconforming people existed to provide love and support for members of those communities, but I didn’t realize until watching Major! how much effort and energy some of these communities were willing to put into providing this support, even to people who weren’t necessarily personally known within that family. I found it very moving that Miss Major and the organization TGIJP were so deeply committed to paying close attention to and showing love and understanding towards every member of the family and larger community, even writing letters and keeping that close relationship and sense of deep connection with trans people in jail that they had never met before. I thought it was interesting, too, that Miss Major was so devoted to fostering commitment and dedication to the community, seeking her daughters out soon after they got out of jail to make sure they came back to TGIJP to help support others still in jail, rather than just focusing on their own lives. I found myself wondering how Miss Major had the resources and, more significantly, the strength to do all of this for her family and community, especially in the midst of all of the oppression and hatred she faced; I doubt I would be so immediately able to set aside my own problems and focus on the safety and well-being of everyone else in the community first.

Major! Directed by Annalise Ophelian, What Do We Want Films, 2015.

SB

This poster, by Charles Papavoine, was titled “Concept.” I was intrigued that it did not use any words, and instead just displayed 24 condoms hanging from a clothesline. I can imagine the intention was to normalize talk about condoms; by displaying all sorts of different-looking condoms, their existence becomes more recognized and talked-about, and possibly more accepted. It seems to send a message that we need to stop silencing discussions about HIV/AIDS, condoms, safe sex, and sex in general. The idea of silence and speaking seems to be a recurring theme in our class—after all, many of us said we were taking the class because people refused to talk about queer people, history, and issues in school and the rest of society.

Papavoine, Charles. Concept. 1987, University of Rochester, Rochester. AIDS Education Posters, River Campus Libraries Rare Books and Special Collections, http://aep.lib.rochester.edu/node/40938. Accessed 20 February 2018.

SB

This sculpture (“untitled”) was on display at the Queering Space exhibition at Alfred University School of Art and Design. The exhibition displayed several pieces by queer artists and was centered on the question of “what is a queer perspective and how does queerness meet form?”

I was intrigued by the fact that the piece took something natural and revered as pure—a tree—and reconstructed it out of something at first thought of as #disgusting and #impure —fingernails. Of course, fingernails are not inherently disgusting, considering everyone has them, but there is a social taboo on them when not attached to the fingers themselves. This seemed very relevant to the #queer experience: like the fingernails, queer people are often cast aside as disgusting. But that doesn’t necessarily mean our #existence is any less beautiful, much like the resulting tree.

#lgbtqexperiencesusa

Pepe, Sheila. “Untitled.” 1998, hydrocal, wire, plastic finger nails. Queering Space at Alfred University. 2 Feb.–28 Mar. 2018, Fosdick-Nelson Gallery, School of Art and Design, Alfred University, Alfred.

SB

The Campus Times has apparently been a place to vent anger over the school’s oppressive systems for longer than I thought, with several editorial columns about such issues even back in the 1970s. I was particularly intrigued by a few articles from May 1971 decrying Eastman Dean Flora Burton’s homophobic policies. These articles were harshly critical both of Dean Burton’s threatening of students discovered to be having gay sex, and of the administration’s refusal to respond to these allegations. My impression had always been that this was not the kind of issue that earned a place in newspapers any time before the past two decades or so, and it was surprising to me to learn not only that it was talked about, but that people were able to be so vocal about it. I also thought it was very relevant to current events on campus—protests against racism, the sexual harrassment lawsuits, and so on—where we STILL see the administration’s refusal to enact actual beneficial change in response. If anything could be found, I would want to include with these something indicating whether any changes came about after these articles, or if the administration’s inactivity was just as pervasive back then.

Lack of inclusion is something that I, as a non-binary person, notice almost constantly in my everyday life. Our language is so deeply coded with binary-gendered speech that this exclusion is essentially unavoidable. I am always particularly aware of phrases people use that are meant to address everyone in an audience, but still depend on gender divisions—for example, when a crowd is addressed as “ladies and gentlemen,” or when the members of a group are spoken of as “brothers and sisters.” Even spaces where the existence of non-binary people is recognized frequently use expressions like these. Just the other day, I saw an intersectional feminist page comment about “support for our black brothers and sisters,” yet also posting about issues for non-binary people, which blatantly ignores that non-binary people of color do exist. This exclusion, of course, is only one part of it; beyond that there are issues of pronouns, “polite” terms of address (which are usually limited to “sir” or “ma’am”), and the fact that Hylan building has a small bathroom on each of its 11 floors and all of them are gendered.

For my #lgbtqexperiencesusaclass, I am making a few posts about materials relevant to queer history and theory.

Harris’s book Queer Externalities examines how queer #representation in mainstream media (Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Will & Grace, Brokeback Mountain, etc.) may actually have harmful side effects on the #queer community. Mistaking acknowledgement by corporations for actual #equality, he says, only reinforces #homonormativity and political apathy due to a belief that we are better off than we really are. I found it surprising to see a criticism of queer representation, considering how little there already is, but I can’t disagree with the effects he discusses, provided his criticism is of how representation is done and how people respond to it, not of the fact of representation itself.

Harris, W.C. Queer Externalities: Hazardous Encounters in American Culture. SUNY Press, 2009.

SB

I had known that the police raids leading up to the Stonewall rebellion had been going on repeatedly at all sorts of queer venues before the actual rebellion, but I was surprised to hear that during the raids, the police separated people into three separate groups of “Faggots here, dykes here, and freaks over there” (“Bitch on Wheels,” 32, in STAR). My surprise was not because I didn’t expect such a separation, but that I didn’t expect this perception to have gone back that far. It is still a current issue that people try to group trans people (more specifically binary trans people) away from (cis) men and women, even when they’re trying to be inclusive of trans people in general. I remember, for example, hearing about Joel Seligman using the phrase “men, women, and trans people” at one town hall, and he was fiercely criticized for it since it implied that binary trans people were somehow “other than” men or women. I wouldn’t be surprised if this structuring somehow relates back to the mindsets of the police back then.

Prior to this class, most of what I had known about Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera was that they considered themselves drag queens (although they were more likely trans women of color in today’s language), that they played a significant role in leading the Stonewall rebellion, and that they have been consistently written out of the picture in favor of stories of non-existent cis white homonormative men. I had also heard that there was a third usually grouped with them, but I cannot remember their name.

Sylvia Rivera was born into a troubled household. At the age of three, her mother committed suicide and tried to kill her as well to escape her drug-dealer husband, and Sylvia was sent off to live with her unloving grandmother. At the age of 10, she left her home and went to 42nd Street, already having gotten involved in sex work. Like most of the drag queens there, she was accustomed to the police harassment, but she managed to avoid actual prostitution charges (“Queens in Exile,” in STAR). It is often believed that at the Stonewall, she threw the first bottle sparking the riots (“The Soapbox”), but she says she only threw the second, and said, “Oh my god, the revolution is finally here!” after it was thrown (“Every Destructive Thing,” “Bitch on Wheels,” in STAR). After that, she continued participating in riots and other activist work, and she and Marsha P. Johnson soon founded STAR, and organization which sought to provide housing, food, bail money, and legal help for trans and other queer people who needed it.

SB

Shoulders to Stand On details much of the queer activist history in the city of Rochester, particularly the origins of the Gay Liberation Front at the University of Rochester, which eventually became Gay Alliance of the Genesee Valley, and their newsletter The Empty Closet, which is one of the oldest continuously-published LGBTQ+ newspapers in the world. The documentary briefly discussed queer life before Stonewall; apparently many of the gay bars were owned by straight people, with prohibitions on touching and involving much police intimidation and demanding of bribes. I suppose my impression had been that most queer spaces had existed only as underground establishments then, so I found it quite surprising that not only were such spaces out in the open, but straight people were involved in running them, even if only to express power.

The “Perversity to Diversity” exhibit, hosted in Rush Rhees Library, displayed several artifacts relating to queer history and activism, apparently strongly declaring the presence of queer students on the University of Rochester campus. The exhibit included several controversial pieces, including a T-shirt displaying lesbian oral sex, an ACT-UP poster comparing the homophobic New York Cardinal O’Connor with a condom, a dental dam, rubber gloves, and a condom-covered dildo. To find the year of the exhibit, I first set out to find the issue of the newspaper containing the articles about the exhibit. A search for Susan Jordan, the author of one of the columns, showed that she was (and is) closely involved with The Empty Closet, so that seemed like a likely source. To narrow down the years, I found on the River Campus Libraries AIDS Education Posters page that the ACT-UP poster was made in 1989. The article also mentioned the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Friends Association (GLBFA), which after a bit of searching I discovered was a later name for the Gay Liberation Front and an earlier name for Pride Network, the modern LGBTQ+ student organization at the University of Rochester. I found on an old U of R calendar of events page that by 2001, the name Pride Network was being used instead of GLBFA, so the columns had to have been written before then. Since the exhibit was held in March, it seemed reasonable that an article about it would be published soon after, perhaps between March and May. Searching through the Empty Closet archives for those months and years on the River Campus Libraries website, I soon found the columns in the April 1991 issue, and concluded that the exhibit was held in 1991.

SB