When I commit to something, I commit wholeheartedly, regardless of the flaws or difficulties that come with; whether it’s a relationship, a purchase of a questionable sweater, or a word. Which brings us to queer. Oh, queer.
If you had asked me what it meant not even three weeks ago, I would’ve been hesitant to give my version of queer. I’m not fond of talking loudly about things I feel I don’t completely understand; I’m more apt to listen until I do. Now, I have so many opinions about the word queer. Like all words, queer does have a meaning; but something that many people find frustrating about it is its lack of a solid definition. I used to be one of those people; I’m coming to terms this year with the fact that a lot of things in life remain uncertain. To me, queer has become more of an ideology. Try describing something like freedom: you know what it is, and what it means, but it’s hard to put together a worthy definition.
Queer’s purpose is to remain a fluid, polymorphous word, evolving with us as we need it. It is, “…a new form of personal identification,” (Jagose, 78), allowing for representation of all, “non-normative sexualities,” (Jagose, 63) and the inclusion of everyone, not just the normalized hetero and homosexualities. I mention homosexuality as well because there is still an issue with the lack of representation for people of color, religious folks, transgenders, etc. The word queer allows people to play, to think, to be fluid. The second we prescribe to a label, we are putting ourselves in boxes, participating in performativity, and starting the vicious cycle all over again that put us in this constrained position in the first place.
People like for things to be certain; they like to give things labels, boxes, and solidly grounded definitions to stand on. This is how I believe we became fixed on identifying ourselves via sexual orientation—why we picked this as well as gender to fixate on, I haven’t decided. However, people are not things; they’re living, growing creatures, with minds, and ideas, and feelings, and all of them have differing reactions to the combination of things that make up their surroundings. All of these factors make up a person’s identity; as, “…coherent, unified, and self-determining subjects…an identity is the natural property of any individual…ongoing, always incomplete, it is a process rather than a property,” (Jagose, 79). Someone’s identity does not define them; no person should be expected to state their identity and have it be set in stone. Personal growth happens, and it’s healthy; while outside factors and other people do affect a person’s identity in multiple ways, pressure to conform to any kind of identity stifles it. It is irrational and narrow-minded to expect someone to never change; people are 70% water, and their mental self can be just as fluid. Would you try to change the ocean’s currents because you liked them better flowing another way? It’s still the same ocean. This is another real problem with identity in the LGBTQ community; many people—amongst the younger generation, at least—will shun a person if they identify as some form of homosexuality but take on a relationship with someone of the opposite gender. Ultimately, a person’s sexuality is their own to decide, and when people are making it known that they’re disapproving of someone else’s sexual choices because they aren’t conforming to their strict role of sexuality, they’re no better than those who are judging them for not conforming to heterosexuality.
The original goal of the gay liberation movement wasn’t to acquire civil rights or become socially acceptable. It was to break down and escape the constraints that the normalization of heterosexuality has put on us. What we were really fighting for was a world of, “…gender neutrality,” and to, “…liberate sexuality,” (Jagose, 84), and for that to happen, we’d have to reject the system entirely, not try to fit in with the rest. Queer allows us to do just that. “Queer opts for denaturalization…a relation of resistance to whatever constitutes the normal,” (99). The normalization and acceptance of alternate sexualities isn’t going to fix our identity crisis. There are so many things someone can label themselves as now: pansexual, asexual, transgender, genderless; hell, you can even call yourself a rock or a unicorn now, and people will accept it. As remarkable an idea this is, it isn’t the answer.
In a utopian society, there wouldn’t be labels; everyone would be bisexual, and sexuality itself wouldn’t matter. “…bisexuality is not a sexual identity at all, but a sort of anti-identity, a refusal,” (Jagose, 69). The gay liberation movement should have put more emphasis on ‘liberation;’ that was our true motive. Queer doesn’t limit us like labels of “lesbian” or “gay” do; it avoids the marginalization and non-inclusive nature of mainstreamed phrases (Jagose, 56). Queer includes people who are strictly into women; queer includes people strictly into men; people who are undecided; people who are uninterested in anyone; people who are interested in objects. Queer doesn’t care! Queer loves everyone, includes everyone, and still manages to remain unaffiliated with anyone. It is doing wonders. It is not only a word that allows people to change and grow, but it is all inclusive, and offers us a more unified front in moving forward in our political efforts to break down of gender roles and heteronormativity. Queer can allow us to speak in a politically correct manner without assuming or offending.
I support queer. I think it offers us a lot of flexibility through its indeterminable nature, and while some people still associate negative connotations, with some research they could also adapt their personal opinion of the word and see the positive things this word could be doing for them, and is doing for everyone. Queer can help us take steps to liberate ourselves from unnecessary our social constraints.
Besides, who isn’t at least a little queer?
Afterthought:
I didn't mention any outside sources or links, but I was reviewing my draft of this post while at City. Their bathrooms are covered in graffitti and stickers; I see something new every time I come here. I love and hate that their mirror is also covered with stickers to the point of no visibility, but it reminded me of how unimportant the way that other people see you is, in comparison with how you know you see yourself.
Something that I find bothering me more and more is the way in which we signify what bathroom is female/male. When I walked into the City bathroom, I noticed their "Women" sign's figure had a sticker over the face. It was an alien head with three eyes. How's that for a gender identity?
There's another place in Denver--I can't remember where--that says, "whichever" but I think I'd like, "whatever" a lot better.
You make a passionate and persuasive call for embracing the use of the term queer. You seem comfortable and eager to embrace queer's sense of fluidity, of uncertainty, of hard-to-pin-downness. And your post is most persuasive, I think, when it connects ideas from queer theory and activism back to gay liberation and the political purpose they held dear back then to liberate us from our repressive system of binary sexuality. (And the writing gets really good there, too!) Despite the may valid critiques of queerness, I find this potential to disrupt, to liberate, to resist and transform these system quite compelling. Might be a bit utopian of me, but I can't help myself.
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