“…So there’s this faggot…”
I’m implying abasement; I’m replicating the same sexist, homophobic hierarchy that continues to narrate my status. I’m a faggot. There are many other faggots in the world. We share nothing but a label, but in that, in the loaded oppressive force it has, we also share the experience of being a target of objectifying hatred. The power of the word is transformative, perhaps in the associations if brings to mind, the memories of violence, or the pain of exclusion. Its use (re)assures my position as other, a certain inhabitant of the margins.
I’m not the only one. There’s a certain kindred faggotiness in the air. We recognize each other. We may ignore each other. We’re there, all the same. The faggots.
Showing posts with label faggot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faggot. Show all posts
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
A Radical Brotherhood: Love and Respect, Care, Relating, and Community
It is not my habit to use words like "love" or "respect" when I do work in queer theory. The theory's academic grounding makes such things difficult. It is with humanity that I address these topics now, for without this project, I am lost. My theoretical mental space, when denied heart, is not full. It does not in essence come from me, rather, it is merely a rough tracing of my true intention.
My intention is to imagine community, relatibility, a sense of identity, and an ideal world constituted through love and respect. This will take place on three levels. First, I will outline a project of the care of the self, not a prescriptive, self-help work-it-out-for-yourself care, but as a general understanding that a full self cannot function lovingly and respectfully until care is given to the self. Secondly, this care will translate to our relationships, how we relate and care for each other with love and respect. Thirdly, I will transform this care into a sense of radical community.
Pain
We continue to hear it, some every day, some every moment. Some of us say it to ourselves. "Faggot." It has the power to unsettle, to disrupt, to force us into conformity. It may call to mind a flood of painful memories of violence and exclusion. We might recall when we have used it to negate, abase, or to hide. It is a word of unquestionable power. Its cultural visibility, its profile, its clout all seem to be current.
I start here to consider for a moment how one might care for himself in light of such an oppressive force, which may stand for violence, but which certainly stands for exclusion, and voices the strictness of gender and polices the norm of heterosexual sexuality. The implied recipient of such a word may or may not participate in any of the implied practices of faggotry, but he may all the same be damaged by the word's use.
In light of the word's profuse existence, it would be unreasonable to suggest that we can ignore it, "take it with a grain of salt" - care of the self incorporates the circumstances of the environment with the goal of love and respect for the self. Showing love and respect for agents of change and resisters of oppression is easy. Showing love and respect for the agents of hate and oppression is difficult. It must be done. Homophobia comes from many places, and many of those places are not the ground of hate. Misunderstanding, a lack of exposure, closets, replication of normative behavior, fear, and memory, not to mention a complex web of these factors as well as too many more to list all are at the root of homophobia. While the product of homophobia in the use of a word is hate, it does not follow that hateful people promulgate hate. It is rather a system, set in a current location, that reproduces the language and outcomes of hate. I refuse to believe that the victims of homophobia (i.e. everyone) are the target of a discrete group of hateful people. Every time we are complicit in the acceptance of hateful language, we agree in some sense to the proliferation of hate. This is not always a choice. The threat of violence, or other things that create deeper scars (alienation from family, exclusion, loss of jobs and loved ones) always stand as barriers from speaking out against hateful language.
We are, however, often in a position to risk a certain loss or exclusion that will be recoverable. What is at stake on one hand is an uncomfortable situation, a look, forms of social criticism, or reputational concerns, but on the other hand, at stake is our radical freedom. I don't believe that I could make the choice any clearer. When we experience inexplicable moments of strength, we must be opportunists for the sake of our freedom. When we are weak and afraid, we must stand in quiet, even clandesdine support of our brothers who can fight, who are strong. Self care is self knowledge. We can learn when and why we experience our own strength, and this knowledge is powerful. We will know how to prepare for the necessary confrontation for the sake of our freedom.
My intention is to imagine community, relatibility, a sense of identity, and an ideal world constituted through love and respect. This will take place on three levels. First, I will outline a project of the care of the self, not a prescriptive, self-help work-it-out-for-yourself care, but as a general understanding that a full self cannot function lovingly and respectfully until care is given to the self. Secondly, this care will translate to our relationships, how we relate and care for each other with love and respect. Thirdly, I will transform this care into a sense of radical community.
Pain
We continue to hear it, some every day, some every moment. Some of us say it to ourselves. "Faggot." It has the power to unsettle, to disrupt, to force us into conformity. It may call to mind a flood of painful memories of violence and exclusion. We might recall when we have used it to negate, abase, or to hide. It is a word of unquestionable power. Its cultural visibility, its profile, its clout all seem to be current.
I start here to consider for a moment how one might care for himself in light of such an oppressive force, which may stand for violence, but which certainly stands for exclusion, and voices the strictness of gender and polices the norm of heterosexual sexuality. The implied recipient of such a word may or may not participate in any of the implied practices of faggotry, but he may all the same be damaged by the word's use.
In light of the word's profuse existence, it would be unreasonable to suggest that we can ignore it, "take it with a grain of salt" - care of the self incorporates the circumstances of the environment with the goal of love and respect for the self. Showing love and respect for agents of change and resisters of oppression is easy. Showing love and respect for the agents of hate and oppression is difficult. It must be done. Homophobia comes from many places, and many of those places are not the ground of hate. Misunderstanding, a lack of exposure, closets, replication of normative behavior, fear, and memory, not to mention a complex web of these factors as well as too many more to list all are at the root of homophobia. While the product of homophobia in the use of a word is hate, it does not follow that hateful people promulgate hate. It is rather a system, set in a current location, that reproduces the language and outcomes of hate. I refuse to believe that the victims of homophobia (i.e. everyone) are the target of a discrete group of hateful people. Every time we are complicit in the acceptance of hateful language, we agree in some sense to the proliferation of hate. This is not always a choice. The threat of violence, or other things that create deeper scars (alienation from family, exclusion, loss of jobs and loved ones) always stand as barriers from speaking out against hateful language.
We are, however, often in a position to risk a certain loss or exclusion that will be recoverable. What is at stake on one hand is an uncomfortable situation, a look, forms of social criticism, or reputational concerns, but on the other hand, at stake is our radical freedom. I don't believe that I could make the choice any clearer. When we experience inexplicable moments of strength, we must be opportunists for the sake of our freedom. When we are weak and afraid, we must stand in quiet, even clandesdine support of our brothers who can fight, who are strong. Self care is self knowledge. We can learn when and why we experience our own strength, and this knowledge is powerful. We will know how to prepare for the necessary confrontation for the sake of our freedom.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Power, the Mainstream Media, and Faggot
I read Details magazine cover to cover while I was traveling over the break. The January edition profiled the top 50 most powerful people, ideas, and institutions of 2007. Can you guess which loaded word made the top 10?
9 // The Other F-word
Age: Forever young
If you take a look back, it appears that 2007 was the year of the F-word—but not the one you’re thinking of. America’s rent-a-quote harridan of hatred, Ann Coulter, used the word to slag presidential candidate John Edwards. Presidential candidate Bill Richardson used the Spanish version (maricón) to slam a guy on the Don Imus radio show. Controversy exploded after Isaiah Washington allegedly dropped the F-bomb on a fellow cast member of Grey’s Anatomy. It’s a word that anyone who ever spent time in an American school yard is familiar with: faggot. But some bullies grow up, get famous, and keep on using it. “I hate gay people,” blurted former basketball star Tim Hardaway. Tucker Carlson bragged about having given a dude who tried to tap toes with him in a men’s room a taste of his bow-tied brutality (“I . . . hit him against the stall with his head, actually”). Hmmm. The word faggot, it seems, is on the tips of a lot of men’s tongues. They can’t stop thinking about it. Without it they’d be lost, and that makes you wonder who really has the power.
The full list can be found here.
When a magazine for men (writ large) notices the import and significance of this word, are we encountering the potential for discourse or the all-too likely reconstitution of its power position? It's worth a thought. Apparently this word is more powerful than the Iraq war veterans who are currently speaking out against the war. Accuse them of being faggots, and their credibility goes out the window.
9 // The Other F-word
Age: Forever young
If you take a look back, it appears that 2007 was the year of the F-word—but not the one you’re thinking of. America’s rent-a-quote harridan of hatred, Ann Coulter, used the word to slag presidential candidate John Edwards. Presidential candidate Bill Richardson used the Spanish version (maricón) to slam a guy on the Don Imus radio show. Controversy exploded after Isaiah Washington allegedly dropped the F-bomb on a fellow cast member of Grey’s Anatomy. It’s a word that anyone who ever spent time in an American school yard is familiar with: faggot. But some bullies grow up, get famous, and keep on using it. “I hate gay people,” blurted former basketball star Tim Hardaway. Tucker Carlson bragged about having given a dude who tried to tap toes with him in a men’s room a taste of his bow-tied brutality (“I . . . hit him against the stall with his head, actually”). Hmmm. The word faggot, it seems, is on the tips of a lot of men’s tongues. They can’t stop thinking about it. Without it they’d be lost, and that makes you wonder who really has the power.
The full list can be found here.
When a magazine for men (writ large) notices the import and significance of this word, are we encountering the potential for discourse or the all-too likely reconstitution of its power position? It's worth a thought. Apparently this word is more powerful than the Iraq war veterans who are currently speaking out against the war. Accuse them of being faggots, and their credibility goes out the window.
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