I've written this twice today, so it becomes a blog post. :) The first part of the conversation was this: PRISM threw out the idea of having Dan Savage as our keynote speaker for our Queer celebration next year. I dislike that idea, primarily because of this, from his column, published in February. "NSNA" is the person who wrote to him.
"With all the minimally sexuals out there making normally sexuals miserable, NSNA, it should be obvious to all regular readers that there’s not exactly a shortage of people who aren’t interested in sex. With that being the case, why would you even contemplate inflicting yourself on a normally sexual person? Why not go find another minimally sexual person? You’ll be doing your minimally sexual self a favor, you’ll be doing your future minimally sexual partner a favor, and you’ll be doing all normally sexual persons everywhere a favor by removing two minimals—you and your future partner—from the dating pool."
This hurts my feelings. I will be pissed if PRISM has him come speak. Slim chance, I hope, but I will be pissed. The response was, is this so wrong? Shouldn't people be compatible? They could. There's nothing wrong with wanting that, but that doesn't have to be the be-all-end-all of every relationship.
Here was my response:
For one thing, he doesn't take into account the idea that people could be happy making compromises. I've sifted through some of the other things he's written about asexuals as part of this conversation PRISM is having, and without exception he's sarcastic and dismissive. His schtick is being an abrasive jerk and that's okay because nobody's making me read his column, but I don't want that for our keynote, because respect for everybody needs to be the default for speakers we bring to campus.
As for the problems I have with his ideas: He explicitly says that it is cruel for an asexual to even think about being in a relationship with a sexual. In response to another letter from somebody who is making that kind of relationship work, he does say that if that works for them, then okay, but he starts his response with "I think your boyfriend must be either a fool or a fag." He explicitly says he doesn't believe that the boyfriend could be happy with an asexual- that it's just impossible.
"Why would you even think of inflicting yourself on a sexual person." The wording here really sucks, because it makes everything I feel wrong and mean. If I even think about liking a sexual boy, I'm doing a bad thing. And removing myself from the dating pool would be doing everyone a favor- meaning then they won't have to deal with me. I won't be around to "fool" them because they assume that I'm straight. I never tell people I'm straight. I'm not fooling anyone- they assume and they're wrong. But in this paragraph, it's all my fault. What he's writing here blames asexuals for wanting to be loved and finding a dating pool consisting almost entirely of sexual people. What other choice do I have? If I knew any asexual boys, maybe I could be interested in them, but I don't. And everything he writes here blames me for that and tells me I'd be doing everyone a favor if I spent the rest of my life alone. {End of my response}
This has left me having one of those evenings where I'm almost having to convince myself that there's nothing wrong with me, and that's hard. Even a friend who's always been a good ally in the past, and who still is, can't see a problem with what's being written here.
It makes me feel alone- if even my allies think he's right, maybe he is, I think to myself. Even allies wouldn't be able to bring themselves to love somebody like me, and in theory don't they already? Don't they, or do they not really understand? What if I had them all wrong?
I'm so, so glad that I'm not the only asexual person in PRISM when we're having this debate. For some reason, this hurts worse than anything, maybe because my allies are haivng problems seeing why I'm upset- I'm not getting any of the support that I believed I could expect from these people. That hurts as much as the crap Dan Savage is spewing up there. I feel let down by them, and it makes me question whether I can rely on them when it's really tough, when push comes to shove- like it's doing now. When I ask them to choose between believeing the validity of my feelings and believing the validity of Dan Savage's arguments, what if they choose him?
This conversation is far from over, and I haven't heard from everybody who was in the meeting tonight where this was discussed. The reactions may be totally different when we have a chance to really get into this matter next week.
Showing posts with label Discourse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Discourse. Show all posts
Monday, April 4, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Crappy, Girly Dating Websites
Every so often, I get into doing this thing where I read dating and relationship blogs. I'd love to know why I do this, because the heteronormativity of it all drives me insane after a while. So, let's explore that. Also, I'm sitting in my Geology class and I'm bored.
Question number one: Why on earth am I reading relationship columns? Honestly, the answer is kind of TMI...
I'm hormonal. Yeah. Sorry for that. I think there's more to it, though. Like, why crappy dating websites and not rom-coms? (Apart from the fact that I hate rom-coms at any time of the month.)
Part of it may be that I'm searching for some kind of a relationship model. By the standards of the blog I'm reading, I've been single so long I should take up spinning (as in yarn or thread, not as in the exercise bike thing my Grandma does). This means that I may have forgotten how to date- at the very least, there's a part of me that thinks I'm doing something wrong. By reading about the kinds of relationships I might like to have, I imagine that I'm trying to learn how to do what these women are doing. Typical me, trying to read something to learn how to date.
The other aspect may be an attempt to find a specific kind of vicarious experience. I get to read about the ups-and-downs of a relationship and daydream and live through the writer, but I neither have to be hurt myself or feel envious. I can watch the writer's relationships happen but I can't watch my friends'. The writer doesn't always have other dinner plans. (Well, she does, but I don't care. I don't count on her to eat dinner with me.) I can enjoy the light drama without it ever affecting my life.
So, that explains why I would read junk like this. Now lets talk about why it eventually drives me nuts. This is as simple as my first reason, and half as embarassing for you...
Hereonormativity. Yeah. That. I highly doubt that the writer has anything against GLBTQQIAAP such as me (or us, if you identify that way, too) but of course her experience is of a straight, sexual woman. This asexual girl has a really hard time identifying with that experience. So much of what she writes is about whether she was sexually compatible with her date, or how fast they did or did not have sex, or whatever... One of her lists (I like lists) is of things to remember now that she's in a relationship and one item on that list is to remember how much she would have enjoyed regular sex with a loving partner when she was single, and so not to say no too often- not in a sense that she owes it to the guy for some reason, but in an attempt not to take for granted a part of her relationship that's special to her.
Obviously I can't relate to any of that. She does redeem herself to me, though, my putting that farther down the list than the reminder not to forget about her friends and family, and to be sure to make time for the other people she loves.
The last aspect of this that I dislike is that she is clearly a person who prefers to spend 90+% of her time with the boyfriend, when she has one. People like this make me feel like an afterthought and also uncomfortable, so I can't identify at all with the way she percieves her relationships.
Fact is, though, that I'm not nearly done reading everything on this website. Chances are this is what I'll do with my evening (and put off the reading that I should have finished by the time I pick Rūta up at the bus station tomorrow).
Can't wait until my hormones calm back down...
Question number one: Why on earth am I reading relationship columns? Honestly, the answer is kind of TMI...
I'm hormonal. Yeah. Sorry for that. I think there's more to it, though. Like, why crappy dating websites and not rom-coms? (Apart from the fact that I hate rom-coms at any time of the month.)
Part of it may be that I'm searching for some kind of a relationship model. By the standards of the blog I'm reading, I've been single so long I should take up spinning (as in yarn or thread, not as in the exercise bike thing my Grandma does). This means that I may have forgotten how to date- at the very least, there's a part of me that thinks I'm doing something wrong. By reading about the kinds of relationships I might like to have, I imagine that I'm trying to learn how to do what these women are doing. Typical me, trying to read something to learn how to date.
The other aspect may be an attempt to find a specific kind of vicarious experience. I get to read about the ups-and-downs of a relationship and daydream and live through the writer, but I neither have to be hurt myself or feel envious. I can watch the writer's relationships happen but I can't watch my friends'. The writer doesn't always have other dinner plans. (Well, she does, but I don't care. I don't count on her to eat dinner with me.) I can enjoy the light drama without it ever affecting my life.
So, that explains why I would read junk like this. Now lets talk about why it eventually drives me nuts. This is as simple as my first reason, and half as embarassing for you...
Hereonormativity. Yeah. That. I highly doubt that the writer has anything against GLBTQQIAAP such as me (or us, if you identify that way, too) but of course her experience is of a straight, sexual woman. This asexual girl has a really hard time identifying with that experience. So much of what she writes is about whether she was sexually compatible with her date, or how fast they did or did not have sex, or whatever... One of her lists (I like lists) is of things to remember now that she's in a relationship and one item on that list is to remember how much she would have enjoyed regular sex with a loving partner when she was single, and so not to say no too often- not in a sense that she owes it to the guy for some reason, but in an attempt not to take for granted a part of her relationship that's special to her.
Obviously I can't relate to any of that. She does redeem herself to me, though, my putting that farther down the list than the reminder not to forget about her friends and family, and to be sure to make time for the other people she loves.
The last aspect of this that I dislike is that she is clearly a person who prefers to spend 90+% of her time with the boyfriend, when she has one. People like this make me feel like an afterthought and also uncomfortable, so I can't identify at all with the way she percieves her relationships.
Fact is, though, that I'm not nearly done reading everything on this website. Chances are this is what I'll do with my evening (and put off the reading that I should have finished by the time I pick Rūta up at the bus station tomorrow).
Can't wait until my hormones calm back down...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Schmekel, Sheldon and Role Models
A few weeks ago, my beloved PRISM had the super awesome band Schmekel (Transgender, Jewish Punk/Polka? Heck yes!) play at our school for TransAction day and we got to take the band out to dinner. I was lucky enough to show up late and occupy the only empty seat, which was with the band and a couple of my PRISM friends. So we got talking about any number of things, but the overarching theme was queer stuff- go figure- and at one point one of the band members commented that they "end up being big brothers" to other trans kids who are in the process of coming out.
And then I kind of started wishing that I'd had somebody like that, an asexual big brother or sister who already knew how it all works and what it's like.
As it is, I began my asexual journey with no clear indication of how one went about this. I didn't have anyone to discuss my coming-out process with, or to trade stories with. One of the ways in which we validate our identities is through discussion and construction of narratives about how our lives are lived as people who identify a certain way and I think we all know that there's no perfect substitute for being able to construct that narrative alongside somebody who is going through the same life story.
In the absence of a personal friend or acquaintance we can look up to and learn from, how are young asexual people supposed to find a role model for our lives? We have a few places we can look and one of them is, I'll tell you right away, a failure: the media.
Now, don't get me wrong- I love Sheldon Cooper. Problem is, he's fictional. He's also abrasive, oblivious and obnoxious. He makes a great sitcom character, but a terrible real-life friend. Sherlock Holmes is much the same way, although the BBC version of him is reasonably endearing. A slightly better choice is Kevin from Guardian of the Dead- he's the "best friend" character and is written as a believable asexual character which is to say, like a normal person who, by the way, is ase. Overall, though, the media's a crapshoot. Role model status is a lot for Kevin alone, so let's move on.
Online options are slightly better, and I often fill the role model position that is open in my life by reading asexual blogs and frequenting Livejournal. This isn't too bad- it gives me access to older asexuals, or at least asexuals who do lots of deep blogging, and this gives me a way to participate in some kind of dialogue with other asexuals. It's what I do if I'm feeling alone, because it's a quick way for me to get a fix of the feeling of belonging. Long term, it's a great way to stay in touch with the asexual community and become part of this dialogue.
The last option, which I'm sort of combining with the online option, is to adopt role models of other orientations and identities. What I've ended up doing is learning from the older queer students on my campus. Lacking an asexual role model, I've watched how older (and sometimes not older, just other) queer students negotiate the world around them. From them, I have been able to learn what it means to live with a queer identity and I'm grateful to all of them, maybe even more because they accepted me and took me in and let me belong even though I was, for some of them, the first asexual person they had ever met and they were as clueless about the formation of an asexual identity as I was. They were and are my role models without even knowing that they are. It would be weird to say it to any of them directly, I guess, but I can say it here- they do beautiful things for my soul and I'm grateful every day to know and be part of this community.
At that dinner, with Schmekel, the talk turned to one of the guys at the table coming out as trans and kind, "older brother" advice was offered. "However they react," somebody suggested, "just take it in stride. It'll be okay."
And although it wasn't meant for me, I listen and I learn. And I take it in stride- it'll be okay for me, too.
And then I kind of started wishing that I'd had somebody like that, an asexual big brother or sister who already knew how it all works and what it's like.
As it is, I began my asexual journey with no clear indication of how one went about this. I didn't have anyone to discuss my coming-out process with, or to trade stories with. One of the ways in which we validate our identities is through discussion and construction of narratives about how our lives are lived as people who identify a certain way and I think we all know that there's no perfect substitute for being able to construct that narrative alongside somebody who is going through the same life story.
In the absence of a personal friend or acquaintance we can look up to and learn from, how are young asexual people supposed to find a role model for our lives? We have a few places we can look and one of them is, I'll tell you right away, a failure: the media.
Now, don't get me wrong- I love Sheldon Cooper. Problem is, he's fictional. He's also abrasive, oblivious and obnoxious. He makes a great sitcom character, but a terrible real-life friend. Sherlock Holmes is much the same way, although the BBC version of him is reasonably endearing. A slightly better choice is Kevin from Guardian of the Dead- he's the "best friend" character and is written as a believable asexual character which is to say, like a normal person who, by the way, is ase. Overall, though, the media's a crapshoot. Role model status is a lot for Kevin alone, so let's move on.
Online options are slightly better, and I often fill the role model position that is open in my life by reading asexual blogs and frequenting Livejournal. This isn't too bad- it gives me access to older asexuals, or at least asexuals who do lots of deep blogging, and this gives me a way to participate in some kind of dialogue with other asexuals. It's what I do if I'm feeling alone, because it's a quick way for me to get a fix of the feeling of belonging. Long term, it's a great way to stay in touch with the asexual community and become part of this dialogue.
The last option, which I'm sort of combining with the online option, is to adopt role models of other orientations and identities. What I've ended up doing is learning from the older queer students on my campus. Lacking an asexual role model, I've watched how older (and sometimes not older, just other) queer students negotiate the world around them. From them, I have been able to learn what it means to live with a queer identity and I'm grateful to all of them, maybe even more because they accepted me and took me in and let me belong even though I was, for some of them, the first asexual person they had ever met and they were as clueless about the formation of an asexual identity as I was. They were and are my role models without even knowing that they are. It would be weird to say it to any of them directly, I guess, but I can say it here- they do beautiful things for my soul and I'm grateful every day to know and be part of this community.
At that dinner, with Schmekel, the talk turned to one of the guys at the table coming out as trans and kind, "older brother" advice was offered. "However they react," somebody suggested, "just take it in stride. It'll be okay."
And although it wasn't meant for me, I listen and I learn. And I take it in stride- it'll be okay for me, too.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Squish!
I have a new favorite word! That word is "squish" and I have this AVEN thread to thank for it: http://www.asexuality.org/en/index.php?showtopic=23290
A 'squish' is kind of like a crush, but it's non-romantic. It's that feeling that you'd love to get to know someone better, not to have a romantic or sexual relationship with them, but just because they're an interesting person. If I have a squish on someone, I want to be around them a lot and talking to them. I want to know what they think and I want them to approve of what I think, do and say. I'm probably also a little shy and awkward about them, because that's just me and I kind of go into my shell whenever I'm worried about another person's opinion.
I love the word 'squish' to describe that feeling. It's remarkably different from a crush, in that I don't actually desire to date the person. No kissing is necessary, though I love hugs no matter who they come from. I think this is a feeling that sexual people have also and I think it's what's meant by a 'bromance'(another of my favorite words) but of course 'bromance' isn't the sort of thing you can say about two girls.
So once I started thinking about this whole concept of having a squish, I started kind of classifying my relationships and how I feel about people I know.
As far as my best friends are concerned, I've decided that's not a squish. I love them like sibings and while I would like them to think well of me, I'm never anxious about whether they do. I'm secure in the idea that they will love me even when I do crazy stuff and I am totally comfortable with them.
PRISM members on the other hand... I have come to the conclusion that I have a squish on just about everyone in that group. I think the world of them and I am anxious to have them think well of me. I love spending time with them, just hanging around and I love just listening to what they have to say. .
Definite squish.
A 'squish' is kind of like a crush, but it's non-romantic. It's that feeling that you'd love to get to know someone better, not to have a romantic or sexual relationship with them, but just because they're an interesting person. If I have a squish on someone, I want to be around them a lot and talking to them. I want to know what they think and I want them to approve of what I think, do and say. I'm probably also a little shy and awkward about them, because that's just me and I kind of go into my shell whenever I'm worried about another person's opinion.
I love the word 'squish' to describe that feeling. It's remarkably different from a crush, in that I don't actually desire to date the person. No kissing is necessary, though I love hugs no matter who they come from. I think this is a feeling that sexual people have also and I think it's what's meant by a 'bromance'(another of my favorite words) but of course 'bromance' isn't the sort of thing you can say about two girls.
So once I started thinking about this whole concept of having a squish, I started kind of classifying my relationships and how I feel about people I know.
As far as my best friends are concerned, I've decided that's not a squish. I love them like sibings and while I would like them to think well of me, I'm never anxious about whether they do. I'm secure in the idea that they will love me even when I do crazy stuff and I am totally comfortable with them.
PRISM members on the other hand... I have come to the conclusion that I have a squish on just about everyone in that group. I think the world of them and I am anxious to have them think well of me. I love spending time with them, just hanging around and I love just listening to what they have to say. .
Definite squish.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Openly Asexual
Not a coming out post. In no way.
"He is gay, guys. Only he doesn't talk about it all the time, on account of having interests outside of being gay." ~Ryan North, comic character
I was gonna wait a day or so to post, so as to space things out, but I've given up on that. This has been bugging me for a long time and I'm going to vent, darnit!
What is it with identifying people's sexualities? If somebody's not straight and they're mentioned in the media, or in conversation it seems like their sexuality always gets inserted right next to their name. "Jim Bob, a gay Minnesotan, thinks this about fishing season" or "Mary Jane, an openly asexual librarian, likes to correct other people's punctuation." (ooh, stereotypes...)
Why do they do this? I get that in some contexts it makes total sense, but I see it freaking everywhere! I was reading an article online which talked about the 'openly gay registrar' of a country in Iowa (okay, maybe it was just a little bit relevant.) Still, the registrar wasn't the one getting married and I don't recall that she said anything earth-shaking. But they still stuck her sexuality in there.
Now, I get that in that case the person's sexuality was relevant and knowing her sexuality helps us understand her motivations and where she's coming from. But the quote I started this post with is quite a good point. GLBTA people have interests other than in being GLBTA! I'm pretty certain gay people don't sit around thinking about the fact that they're gay any more than I sit around thinking about being ase. Of course, I do that to some extent, because I'm blogging about it, but it's in the context of ordinary life. Of course it think about it during the day, but not "Wow...I'm asexual." More along the lines of "Ugh... I could have done without that last 'that's what she said' because I'm ase..." So I think that mentioning sexualities every time somebody's not straight, unless it's definitely relevant to the conversation, is probably pointless.
In fact, what if we purposely leave it out and just treat it like it's normal? If I'm talking about my friend Cory, and I just casually mention his latest boyfriend without starting the sentance with 'My friend Cory, who's bi..." what would happen? Nothing dramatic, I think. At worst, somebody would be confused and I'd back up and explain that Cory likes guys. At best, somebody is surprised when it clicks in their mind that Cory is a boy who likes boys and they are forced to challenge their own assumptions about gender and sexuality. And that can't be too bad.
I like that it takes the emphasis off of people's sexuality and assumes that because a person is human, their sexuality is normal. Reminds me of a guy in my campus GSA (we call it PRISM and I'm going to talk about it a lot. I love the group) who, when we talked at one meeting about the term 'queer' went on a long rant about how we shouldn't need these labels- we're all human and that should be good enough. I agree, and I think it would be great if we could change the way we talk in order to change the fact that we view sexuality as a dividing line and start seeing everyone, regardless of sexuality, as simply human.
"He is gay, guys. Only he doesn't talk about it all the time, on account of having interests outside of being gay." ~Ryan North, comic character
I was gonna wait a day or so to post, so as to space things out, but I've given up on that. This has been bugging me for a long time and I'm going to vent, darnit!
What is it with identifying people's sexualities? If somebody's not straight and they're mentioned in the media, or in conversation it seems like their sexuality always gets inserted right next to their name. "Jim Bob, a gay Minnesotan, thinks this about fishing season" or "Mary Jane, an openly asexual librarian, likes to correct other people's punctuation." (ooh, stereotypes...)
Why do they do this? I get that in some contexts it makes total sense, but I see it freaking everywhere! I was reading an article online which talked about the 'openly gay registrar' of a country in Iowa (okay, maybe it was just a little bit relevant.) Still, the registrar wasn't the one getting married and I don't recall that she said anything earth-shaking. But they still stuck her sexuality in there.
Now, I get that in that case the person's sexuality was relevant and knowing her sexuality helps us understand her motivations and where she's coming from. But the quote I started this post with is quite a good point. GLBTA people have interests other than in being GLBTA! I'm pretty certain gay people don't sit around thinking about the fact that they're gay any more than I sit around thinking about being ase. Of course, I do that to some extent, because I'm blogging about it, but it's in the context of ordinary life. Of course it think about it during the day, but not "Wow...I'm asexual." More along the lines of "Ugh... I could have done without that last 'that's what she said' because I'm ase..." So I think that mentioning sexualities every time somebody's not straight, unless it's definitely relevant to the conversation, is probably pointless.
In fact, what if we purposely leave it out and just treat it like it's normal? If I'm talking about my friend Cory, and I just casually mention his latest boyfriend without starting the sentance with 'My friend Cory, who's bi..." what would happen? Nothing dramatic, I think. At worst, somebody would be confused and I'd back up and explain that Cory likes guys. At best, somebody is surprised when it clicks in their mind that Cory is a boy who likes boys and they are forced to challenge their own assumptions about gender and sexuality. And that can't be too bad.
I like that it takes the emphasis off of people's sexuality and assumes that because a person is human, their sexuality is normal. Reminds me of a guy in my campus GSA (we call it PRISM and I'm going to talk about it a lot. I love the group) who, when we talked at one meeting about the term 'queer' went on a long rant about how we shouldn't need these labels- we're all human and that should be good enough. I agree, and I think it would be great if we could change the way we talk in order to change the fact that we view sexuality as a dividing line and start seeing everyone, regardless of sexuality, as simply human.
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