Archive Page 15 of 22



Ain’t I a Woman/Womyn/Wimmin?

Dyke March Card

Maybe not.

While at Brooklyn Pride this year, I was handed a postcard for this year’s NYC Dyke March. In bold, red letters, the postcard proclaims: “Women! Womyn! Wimmin!” and, below, says “This march is for women only. Allies should cheer us from the sidelines.”

The postcard left me wondering where I belonged – in the march, as I’ve been every year since moving to NYC in 2002, or on the sidelines.

Last year, there was something of a campaign at the Dyke March. People handed out stickers that said, “A Dyke March for All Dykes.” These folks were primarily calling for the inclusion of dyke-identified trans men in the Dyke March.

Something about this protest rubbed me the wrong way. I think it had a lot to do with the people who were most visibly involved – mostly white, mostly thin, mostly “good looking” by typical standards trannyboys who seem to occupy a particular scene in NYC – the scene in which (certain) trans guys are omgsohott!!! In my limited interaction with this scene, I’ve felt a lot of entitlement and a certain amount of privilege, namely racial and male, (though I’m quick to acknowledge that the male privilege that a trans man may possess is thoroughly complicated by the lack of privilege that comes with being trans.) The crowd that seemed to be calling most loudly for trans male inclusion in the Dyke March, and the particular way in which they went about it, did not make me so sympathetic to the cause, despite my understanding of and, in large part, agreement with their points.

There was a pretty big debate last year with (and within) the Dyke March Planning Committee over whether the march should be explicitly women-only, or whether it should be opened to dykes of many genders, including dyke-identified trans men and genderqueers. The portions of the debate that I witnessed were thoroughly upsetting; there was a whole lot of transphobia lacing the entire thing, and a whole lot of wilful ignorance and reductionism around people’s gender. I myself went to the beginning of a Dyke March planning meeting and spoke to some of the organizers. One particularly prevalent message that I heard was that genderqueers, and maybe even trans men, could attend the March as long as they came to it identifying with and embracing whatever part of them was still “woman.”

This notion – that, deep down inside, all trans men and genderqueers still have a “woman” side – really pisses me off. It is completely invalidating of many people’s gender identities, and is an attempt to reinforce a gender binary that dictates that, when you get down to it, everyone is really either a woman or a man as determined by whatever gender they were assigned at birth. Some trans men and genderqueers who were female-assigned at birth might embrace or acknowledge a female or woman side of themselves, which is a completely valid and wonderful individual choice. (Though, actually, who am I or anyone else to say whether someone else’s understanding of their gender is valid or not?) However, that choice cannot and should not be forced upon all trans men or genderqueers. And when the organizers of the Dyke March or any other space say that, somehow, they’re welcoming trans men and genderqueers when they say “women only,” that’s exactly what they’re doing – stripping people of their right to gender self-identification and pushing them into one of two predefined boxes.

As far as I understand it, one of the primary motivations behind the Dyke March has always been visibility – the visibility of dykes and other queer women within a larger queer movement that has often completely ignored them or pushed their needs and issues to the side. Therefore, it makes me profoundly sad that the Dyke March is making increasingly invisible those people who have long been part of the lesbian/dyke/queer women’s communities, but do not, perhaps, fully or even remotely identify as “women.”

I, myself, am included among that number. When people ask me my gender in a free-form manner, I always respond with “genderqueer butch.” That’s my gender, to a T. It fits me better than any other gender label that I’ve come across. The term “woman” is so loaded down with so much cultural and societal connotation that I’m not really all that comfortable with it, under most circumstances.

Somehow, “woman of color” is different. It doesn’t bother me nearly as much, it’s something I can identify with much more easily and it’s an identity that I embrace. A lot of that is about kinship, about shared experience, and about solidarity. It’s far easier for me to be proud of being a woman of color, to be comfortable being a woman of color, than it is for me to be comfortable just being labeled as a woman.

And it’s not as if I don’t identify with the label “women” at all. I do. I function in this binary gender world primarily as a woman. I am denied privilege and discriminated against as a woman; I receive privilege as a non-trans woman. I am seen by most as a woman who doesn’t act like a woman should, but a woman nonetheless. And, when pressed, when given the choice between two options, man or woman, I will (at this point in my life, at least) invariably choose woman.

That’s the thing, though – I don’t like having to choose between two boxes and squeeze myself in, however bad the fit may be. I am perfectly content identifying as a genderqueer butch, full stop. I don’t feel that I need to tack “woman” onto that to preserve my connection to women’s struggles, to women’s cultures, to women’s communities. I don’t feel the need to do so in order to share the kinship and community that I do with other women of color. And I certainly don’t think that I need to call myself a woman in order to prove my allegience to women or to feminism.

It sucks that I’m so often forced to choose between the two, or that the choice is made for me when people make assumptions based on how I look or sound. It’s something that I deal with almost constantly – any time I meet someone new, speak to someone on the phone, or am forced to choose a gendered title like Ms or Mrs or Mr; any time that I walk into a public restroom and get the double-takes, the questioning, and eventual approval after I reluctantly say “Yes, I’m a woman;” any time someone calls my office asking for me after only reading my name in an email or on a website and I hear those few moments of confusion before they decide, “Oh, this must be a woman named Jack.” However, I’m fairly used to all of that. I expect it from mainstream society, and those low expectations make it a little easier to deal with.

But it’s a whole other story when it’s communities that I expect more from, like queer communities. To be pushed into boxes by people who struggle against being shoved into boxes of their own, to be made to feel invisible and disrespected by people who know what it feels like to have to fight to be seen and respected for who one truly is – that’s a special kind of hurt right there.

So, will I march this year, or not? I don’t know. I sure as hell won’t be cheering from the sidelines like I’m apparently supposed to. I’m either in it or I’m not. I know that the Dyke March isn’t really about the policies that some small, select group of women come up with; it’s about the collective power and often disparate voices of all of the people who show up to march. I know that it’s not likely that anyone will try to enforce this policy, and I know that, even if they did, I’d be lucky enough, in a way, to be read as a woman and let be. But I don’t know if I’d be able to really have fun and enjoy myself without having that queasy feeling that comes when you’re forced to pass for something that you’re not.

If I do march, I think I might make a sign to carry. I’m thinking it’ll be a list of labels with checkboxes next to them – woman, womyn, wimmin, genderqueer butch. The checkboxes next to the first three will have a big red “x” through them; the checkbox next to the last will have a big green check through it. And then the sign will say, “Am I still welcome here? If I am, then say it!”

*****

I’m writing about my own experience as a not-exactly-woman-identified person, but I’d also like to point out that many people who very happily identify as women are not truly welcomed or included in many women’s and dyke spaces and communities – namely, trans women.

Yes, the NYC Dyke March, like many other similar spaces, is “officially” open to all women – as their website reads, “biological or otherwise,” because, you know, all those trans women out there are inorganic or mechanical or something. (Trans women are women, just as biological as any other women. The term “non-trans” is far more respectful and accurate than “biological.”) But there’s a big difference between talking the talk of including trans women, and walking the walk of truly making a community or space welcoming and inclusive of trans women. The former is easily about posturing and empty declarations; the latter is about changing personal attitudes and overcoming individual, collective, and institutional transphobia.

Some friends of mine have posted a petition to demonstrate community support of trans women that will be circulated at the Dyke March on Saturday. I encourage you all to read it and sign on if you’re down with it. There’s no automated way to sign online quite yet, but if you email me (see “Contact Me” on the sidebar) or leave your name and location in the comments, I’ll be sure to pass it on to them.

ACTION ALERT: Trans Day of Action Denied Permit to March and Rally on 8th Avenue During NYC 2006 Pride!

(from TransJustice, a working group of the the Audre Lorde Project)

In the wake of growing violence against Trans and Gender Nonconforming (TGNC) people, as evidenced by the brutal attack on renowned Singer and Drag Performer-Kevin Aviance, the New York City Police Department and the City of New York have chosen to deny TransJustice’s applications to march and rally on 8th Avenue during NYC’s pride celebrations. Trans Day of Action would have been used to commemorate the death of Amanda Milan, a 25 year-old African-American transgender woman, who was brutally murdered on June 20, 2000, in the middle of an intersection near Port Authority Bus Terminal as onlookers cheered. However, during a 2nd meeting with Manhattan South Police Precinct on June 19th, we were told that Trans and Gender Nonconforming people, as well as allies, will not be permitted to march through Midtown Manhattan. Now we have it in writing! We received a written denial shortly thereafter.

We need activists all over the country to do these things!

  1. Inundate the following people with emails, calls and/or faxes:
    • Mayor Bloomberg – Phone: 311 (or 212-NEW-YORK outside NYC). Fax: 212 788-2460
    • Commissioner Ray Kelly – Email
    • Midtown South Precinct Community Affairs – Phone: (212) 239-9846
  2. Come to our 1pm press conference on Tuesday, June 20th on NYC City Hall steps.
  3. Alert elected officials and the press! Urge them to endorse the Trans Day of Action and attend the press conference.
  4. Come to our work session on Wednesday, June 21st @ 6pm. This meeting is being held in preparation for the June 23rd Trans Day of Action, and will take place at Housing Works – 320 West 13th Street on the 4th Floor.
  5. Be at Chelsea Park, in NYC, @ 2:30pm on Friday, June 23rd for the Trans Day of Action Kick-off Rally. The park is located on West 28th Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues.

Now is the time to act. We call on ALL social justice activists to join us in showing the New York City Police Department that we will not be intimidated!

Historically, 8th Avenue has been regarded as the place that several LGBT and HIV organizations as well as LGBT nightclubs have called home. TransJustice selected this 8th Ave route to call attention to innumerable members of our communities that work, reside, play, as well as access supportive services, right in the heart of Midtown.

On June 23rd, Trans and Gender Non-Conforming People of Color and their allies will rally and march against police brutality, to oppose the racist and xenophobic immigration policies of the Bush Administration, to show our outrage at the lack of access to living wage employment, adequate affordable housing, quality education, basic healthcare for our communities, and to demand an end to the devastating impacts of US imperialism (the so-called “war on terrorism”) being waged against people at home and abroad.

Ultimately, TransJustice sees the denial of the march route and permits as part of the ongoing plan of the Bloomberg Administration to repress the progressive political movements of NYC. Now more than ever,
TransJustice calls on all social justice activists from the communities of color, lesbian, gay, bi, two spirit and trans movements, immigrant rights organizations, youth and student groups, trade unions and workers organizations, religious communities and HIV/ AIDS and social service agencies to endorse, build contingents and to help fight for the right to march on 8th Avenue on June 23rd.

I have smart friends.

Many of them, in fact. Here’s some recent words from two of them.

My friend Dean writes about polyamory in “For Lovers and Fighters” on Make. This article really resonated with me, as a currently poly person, in so many ways. In it, he touches on many things: “how interrogating the limits of monogamy fits into [his] queer, trans, feminist, anti-capitalist, anti-oppression politics,” how we treat people we’re dating or in a romantic relationship with vs. how we treat our friends (and how we might do well to treat our friends more like our dates and our dates more like our friends, sometimes), and how polyamory is emergent in communities that question and break gender rules and norm. He also talks about the negative aspects of the relative popularity of polyamory in some communities – how sometimes polyamory is seen as more “radical” and right on, while monogamy is seen as a throwback; how poly people can hold themselves up to stringent and unrealistic standards of behavior, with any jealousy or insecurity yielding feelins of shame and inadequacy. Dean writes:

It seems like the best answer to all of this is to move forward as we do in the rest of our activism, carefully and slowly, based on our clearest principles, with trust and a willingness to make mistakes. The difficulty of having open relationships should not be a reason not to try it, but it should be a reason not to create new punishing norms in our communities or in our own minds. We’ve done difficult things before. We struggle with internalized oppressions, we chose to live our lives in ways that our families often tell us are impossible, idealistic or dangerous, and we get joy from creatively resisting the limits of our culture and political system that are both external and part of our own minds.

In a post entitled “The internet ate my subculture,” Anne writes about whether something has happened in recent years to “completely destroy american public culture,” and whether that something might be the internet. She writes:

Is it totally trite to blame MySpace? Or Friendster? Or hell, livejournal? The timing is right. They keep everyone “connected” without having to, y’know, do anything together except catechise our daily living and fuck. Memoirs are now the best-selling genre of new book. Coincidence? We can get all the kudos and sexiness we need without ever leaving the house, without ever extending ourselves beyond our individual choices of which job, which identity, which sound card, which sex act we prefer. Narrativize it, publish it, let the appreciative comments pour in…

ACTION ALERT: Father’s Day Sleep-Out in protest of landlords’ abuses

Picture the Homeless is an amazing organization here in NYC that was founded by, is led by, and organizes homeless people in the struggle for civil rights, housing and economic justice. Tonight, they’re having a sleep-out in front of a block of abandoned buildings in East Harlem. (Perhaps a certain East Harlem resident might find time to stop by?) These buildings, like many others in NYC, are left vacant by developers who are waiting for the right opportunity to make a whole lot of money off of the properties; in the meantime, there’s a tremendous housing crisis in New York City, with thousands of adults and children left homeless. Instead of letting abandoned buildings rot until developers are prepared to convert them into luxury condos or other unaffordable housing for huge profits, as most often happens, couldn’t these buildings be converted into affordable housing for homeless and low-income New Yorkers? Picture the Homeless is demanding an answer to that question, and calling for that answer to be a resounding “Yes!” in favor of economic justice and housing as a human right guaranteed to all people.

Below is the text of the press release from Picture the Homeless, which includes details on the event. Allies are welcomed and encouraged to join PTH members and staff for the action – stop by for a while, or bring your sleeping bag and sleep on the street in protest of the private interests and city policies that allow homelessness and displacement to continue unabated.

*****

FATHER’S DAY “SLEEP-OUT” IN PROTEST OF LANDLORDS’ ABUSES
Homeless dads and allies stand united against city’s shelter and housing policies

New York, NY—Eric Sessoms, a father of two, had been homeless for five years. Living on the street he wished and dreamed of his own apartment that he could share with his two children. Currently living in an SRO (single-room occupancy) in Harlem, Eric is finishing his last year of college and is searching in vain for an affordable house for his family.

“An SRO is for single people,” Eric says. “I want my children with me, but there’s nowhere to go. There are abandoned buildings all over this neighborhood; but when they get developed, they are turned into luxury condominiums.”

Three blocks away from his SRO, on 125th Street, the heart of Harlem’s economic development, stands an entire block of abandoned properties. “These buildings have been in this condition since I was twenty; and I’m now forty. I want to know how landlords are allowed to keep a building abandoned and in poor condition for two decades without the City demanding that they be reconstructed to meet the needs of the community.”

This Father’s Day, Eric will be taking a stand with other fathers and allies, to focus on this issue, and expose the landlords whom the city allows to warehouse buildings. They will be targeting Jeff Sutton, of Wharton Realty, a high-profile property owner who owns the buildings at 125th and Lenox. One of the city’s largest developers, and a George W. Bush campaign contributor, Sutton recently brokered such deals as the 30,000-square-foot Apple retail location on Fifth Avenue and the Howard Johnson building in Times Square. Sutton did not respond to numerous requests for meetings.

Providing shelter for one person costs the city $10K-$15K a year. “Why can’t these funds be re-allocated to developing actual affordable housing?” Eric asks.

Manhattan Borough President Scott Stringer has also decided to join Eric in his stand against these injustices. Stringer and his office are planning a comprehensive count of abandoned buildings in Manhattan, collaborating with Picture the Homeless, an organization that Eric helps to lead and represent.

“After suffering years of administrative abandonment,” Eric says, “I am now standing up for my children and the next generations, so they won’t be deprived of a basic human right: housing.”

WHO: Homeless fathers and allies

WHAT: “Sleep-Out” to protest city’s housing policies and landlords’ lack of accountability

WHERE: Harlem, NYC. Press rendezvous outside the State Office Building at 163 W. 125th, between Lenox and 7th Ave. Look for event press coordinators with red armbands.

WHEN: Monday, June 19th, at 8PM.

doozies

Wow, I woke up to some doozies this morning. Check out the most recent comments by LOLA and Jack Alouet who are, of course, all up in a tizzy about my posts about gentrification. LOLA’s are especially enlightening, especially when LOLA says that Puerto Ricans are the most racist people in NYC.

LOLA also took the time to write to me this morning, grilling me about whether I endorse violence because I approved Tenda’s comment in “innate charm, my ass,” – newsflash, I don’t endorse that sort of violence, as you might have gathered if you read the comment directly below Tenda’s. LOLA also writes that my blog is bordering on racist against white people – yeah, um, no, sorry!

And, the icing on the cake – LOLA is apparently a freelance reporter who was going to write a story about Puerto Ricans are misrepresented in NYC, but after reading my blog, is reconsidering. LOLA even seems to threaten me, writing: “do you think that comment will represent your community in a positive light if it were publicized or made publicly evident for that matter? ” LOLA, I sincerely hope that you reconsider so much that you don’t write that article at all, because I think it would pretty much be guaranteed to suck.

Who Said It Was Simple

I’m a bit behind on the blogging and probably won’t catch up until next week. But I just stumbled upon this brilliant poem by Audre Lorde, one of the few by her that I haven’t read before. It reminded me of the recent conflicts that I’ve witnessed between certain white feminist bloggers and women of color (also feminist) bloggers, especially the drama that was playing out at blac(k)ademic. This poem seems a good response to said white feminists.

Who Said It Was Simple
Audre Lorde

There are so many roots to the tree of anger
that sometimes the branches shatter
before they bear.
Sitting in Nedicks
the women rally before they march
discussing the problematic girls
they hire to make them free.
An almost white counterman passes
a waiting brother to serve them first
and the ladies neither notice nor reject
the slighter pleasures of their slavery.
But I who am bound by my mirror
as well as my bed
see causes in color
as well as sex

and sit here wondering
which me will survive
all these liberations.

My pride cup overfloweth…

Puerto Rican Day Parade, painting by Martin Wong
Puerto Rican Day Parade by Martin Wong

This weekend was a little overwhelming with the pride in my various identities. On Saturday, Brooklyn Pride exploded in all its queer glory. Me, my girlfriend, and Bessie the dog went out and were queer. This basically consisted of walking up and down Prospect Park West, getting about ten steps at a time before stopping to greet people we knew (Bessie got pet a lot), dodging the countless solicitations from Democrats and assorted mainstream queer organizations like HRC (we didn’t dodge the coller organizations, though they were also far less in-your-face), and eating overpriced, greasy street fair food. Later that night, we attended the somewhat abbreviated night parade, which was a lot of fun and had much more of a neighborhood, chill feel than the craziness that is the big Pride march in Manhattan.

OMG, speaking of pride, I need to interrupt myself to CHEER via blog because Cynthia Nixon just won the Tony award for Best Performance by a Lead Actress in a Play. My girlfriend and I were hoping that she’d thank her girlfriend in her speech, which she did not, but she did something even better – she kissed her! On camera! Woohoo!

Today I found out that Cynthia Nixon and her partner were at Brooklyn Pride. And I missed them. This, my friends, is a tragedy indeed. I met her once; she actually knew my name and used it a few times over the course of said night. This tells me that maybe I could have said hi to her without seeming overly “Hi I’m a huge fan of yours and I’m going to bother you at this random event!” Maybe she would have even pet my dog. Le sigh.

Anyhow.

Today was the Puerto Rican Day Parade. An estimated three million people attended. I was not one of them. I had to speak on that panel (which I’ll write more about tomorrow, hopefully); afterwards, me and a few of my friends tried to catch up to the parade, but we thought it was travelling south when it was actually going north, so we wound up quite far from the tail end of it. I could have hopped on the subway and gone uptown, but we were hungry, it was getting late, and the crowds seemed far too daunting. So I did not go. I didn’t even get to watch it on TV, as I usually do.

On my train ride home, I saw tons of people coming back from the parade, entire families bedecked in various renditions of the Puerto Rican flag. A Mexicana friend of mine always says that we Boricuas love our bandera more than anything, and with all the flags I saw today, that seems quite true. It made me happy to see so many proud Boricuas all over the place, but sad that I’d missed all the festivities. I was, however, wearing my own Puerto Rican flag armband, have worn my Puerto Rico World Baseball Classic t-shirt all day yesterday and part of this afternoon, have my big flag flying outside my apartment window, and have had my ringtone set to “Que Bonita Bandera” all weekend. So I’ve celebrated in my own little way, but next year, I’ve got to find some other Boricuas to celebrate with.

As an aside – maybe only other Puerto Ricans will find this as amusing as me – today on the train I saw this guy wearing a t-shirt that said “Boricua” and featured a big cartoon coquí, standing upright in front of a flag, wearing shades, a PR flag do-rag, and a tank top that exposed its muscley, green, tattooed bicep. ¡Que loco!

P.S. I finally got around to responding to many comments that had been lingering for a few days. So, if you’ve written one recently, check back, I’ve probably responded.

Fifth Radical Women of Color Carnival

A few days late, but… the 5th Radical Women of Color Carnival is up at Fabulosa Mujer. It includes some of what I’ve been writing about gentrification of late, but more importantly, it includes tons of awesome links and quotes from many women of color bloggers, all put into excellent context by Fab. Check it out!

more thoughts on gentrification

Yesterday, I visited a friend who lives uptown. Walking from her apartment back to the 125th street stop on the A, I was struck by the fact that almost every single person I passed was white. I thought this was Harlem. Turns out, according to Wikipedia, Harlem proper doesn’t really start on the west side until 125th street itself, and I was a bit south of there; but, as the Wikipedia article also states, “Harlem’s boundaries are elastic and have changed over the years, as Ralph Ellison observed: ‘Wherever Negroes live uptown is considered Harlem.'”

As I walked, I got to thinking about the stuff I’ve been writing about gentrification and all the thoughts I hadn’t written out yet. Lots of my thoughts have arisen in response to questions and statements like these, gleaned from the comments on this blog:

  • “You and I are both concerned about being “priced out” of our homes, being unable to afford to live where we want. But you want to tell me where I’m allowed to live? How would you feel if all the boricuas were forced to live in a certain neighborhood? “They are” will be your inevitable reply, but that’s the point.”
  • “It’s not the presence of individual white people that hurts communities like the one you are describing–it’s institutional racism, including the examples you have described of landlords charging higher rent to white renters and real estate agents considering white people as evidence of a safe neighborhood. Why is it his fault if other people react to his presence that way despite his good intentions?”
  • “Isn’t saying white people shouldn’t move into minority neghborhoods just another way of advocating segregation? The danger of gentrification is very real, but that doesn’t mean that everyone should live only among people of their own race, or that a white person who moves into a minority community is automatically a negative presence–especially if he respects the culture and the people, and wants to get to know them rather than surrounding himself with other white people.”

So, with these and other responses to what I’ve written and said thusfar in mind, I wrote this on my long subway ride back to Brooklyn.
Continue reading ‘more thoughts on gentrification’

AngryBrownButch in the flesh

This weekend I’m going to be sitting on a panel at the New Fest, the big queer film festival here in NYC. The details:

Masculinity In The Lesbian Community
1pm on June 11, 2006
The New Yorker Hotel
481 Eighth Avenue (at 34th St.)
Grammercy Park Suite
$6

As seen in NewFest 2006 films like Boy I Am and Gender Rebel, there’s a lot to say about FTMs and genderqueer people and how they do and don’t fit into the larger lesbian community. With such diversity now present, is it still the lesbian community? Filmmakers Sam Feder and Elaine Epstein and activists continue the dialogue.

I’m one of the aforementioned activists, along with my friend Naomi; we’re both coming as representatives, so to speak, of the Sylvia Rivera Law Project, though we won’t really be talking about SRLP’s work and therefore won’t be speaking as official representatives of what SRLP’s official positions on these issues are.

Note that the premise of the whole panel is a bit weird and is reflective of a problematic trend in “lesbian” communities to focus on the presence of trans men and female-assigned genderqueers and generally ignore the issues and presence (or lack thereof) of trans women in the community. It’s also a bit odd that we’ve gotten to this point where the synopsis of a panel entitled “Masculinity in the Lesbian Community” (and, at one point in the NewFest guide, is even simply called “Lesbian Masculinity”) includes nary a mention of butches, studs, AGs, and other masculine folks who have traditionally been a part of the lesbian community.

I, myself, tend not to identify as a lesbian anymore; my sexuality is queer, though I still do identify with lesbian community and culture, if that makes sense. And I certainly wouldn’t say I belong to a lesbian community, given the wide range of genders and sexualities in the communities of which I’m a part. But the question, “is it still the lesbian community?” is an odd one. It all depends on what you mean by community – is it just a general term applied to all people who share an identity, or is community an actual, localized social group of people who know and support each other? I’ll be speaking to these points and more on the panel. I’ll let y’all know how it goes.