Were the World Mine: Review

Just saw this wonderful musical called Were the World Mine, about a gay boy who discovers the power to turn everyone in his homophobic town gay, to give them a chance to "walk in his shoes." Meanwhile, he is performing in the school play, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and much of the dialogue incorporates lines from the play. It's not really a conventional musical, as most of the singing takes place in dream sequences and doesn't stop the action in the movie. It's both adorable and poignant. The main character has a fantastic voice, as do most of the other cast. It also does a really good job of addressing hegemonic masculinity (via the rugby team and its coach) and the homophobia directed at Shakespeare (as many of the rugby players are cast as women in the play.) I give it a 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Were the World Mine on IMDB

Is feminism anti-capitalist?

So I'm taking a transnational Feminisms class, and nearly all of the material we've read (Mohanty, Ong, Ngai) share a sentiment that the only way to liberate women globally is the downfall of capitalism. Now, I am aware of the detrimental effects of global capital, especially on Third World women. But I must offer the same question to you all that I asked myself: Is feminism necessarily anti-capitalist? If so, is there any socioeconomic system that inherently serves the interests of feminism?


I've been arguing with my partner about it for several months now. He is an objectivist, and Ayn Rand's philosophy is a glorification of capitalism (at least as I understand it, I haven't read enough of her writing to make a judgment.) He argues that capitalism gives us all the freedoms to choose our profession and move ahead in the world, and all socialism does is limit our choices. I honestly think he values the ideals of social democracy more than capitalism itself. However, I ask the question of whether we can realize the great things about social democracy (i.e., freedom, equality, self-determination) without economically fucking the rest of the world over?


Is socialism the answer? I honestly have no idea. I think that we can grow on certain models from other countries in which the government provides health care, childcare (with both maternal and paternal leave), education, and all of the things that people really need to even think about trying to get ahead professionally and economically. In other words, I truly believe in a controlled capitalism - but then, is that really even capitalism at all?


Capitalism in its current form has made the entire world financially unstable. I think it will take several generations to sort through economic systems to see what will work, because it's clear that not the same thing will work for every part of the world. So I'll put the question to you - how do we level the economic playing field without sacrificing the benefits of a free(ish) market? And how are our social philosophies (freedom, democracy, etc) tied up with our economic policies? I'd really like to know what other people think about this because I certainly do not have a definitive answer right now.

Reaping the Benefits of Straight Privilege

Is it possible, even as a LGBT rights activist, to avoid the privileges of heterosexism? Certainly, we know how one can be victimized by it. I have this assignment to write an autobiography about how I have either benefited from or been victimized by heterosexism, and I think I could argue that I've experienced both benefits and disadvantages. Heterosexism is different from homophobia: it implies the privileging of the heterosexual norm above all other forms of sexuality, which doesn't necessarily entail a fear of homosexual desire so much as a feeling of being superior to it. So naturally I'm trying out my ideas here, and I'd like to know your experiences as well:

I think I benefited from heterosexism the most during adolescence, where fitting in to avoid harassment and ostracism is key. Having been in straight relationships for my entire life, obviously I have never had to deal with the issues my gay friends did in high school. I never encountered prejudice, hatred or harassment because of my sexuality, I was never singled out or bullied. I never had to hide my identity from my family and friends. Of course, I also never questioned my identity really and nobody questioned it for me - because everyone assumed I was straight, I am certain they were immediately put at ease without even thinking about it, because heterosexuality is unquestionably the norm for them. And I cannot say I've never encountered prejudice or antipathy; I have been attacked by my peers for my beliefs not only in gender equality but for gay rights as well. Still, I cannot claim to really know what it's like for someone to be attacked directly for their identity. As a straight ally, I had the benefit of always looking in on homophobia from the outside rather than having to directly experience it myself. 

Of course, even being in heterosexual relationships, there are still ways you can be victimized by heterosexism. I believe heterosexism affects relationships between men and women in a negative way, especially when you take gender roles into account. As heterosexual beings, we are expected to take on certain roles in the relationship as a woman and as a man. Heterosexism does not just privilege straightness, it privileges a certain kind of straightness, in which people conform to the masculine and feminine roles prescribed for them. If I am dominant and assertive in my relationship with a man, not only am I told to step down a notch but my partner's masculinity is immediately questioned. Perhaps even gay couples feel this pressure to take on these rigid masculine/feminine roles, but that's a matter to be further explored.

I'm not going to say I never questioned my identity in high school, and for sure I'm questioning it much more now that I'm growing older and feeling more secure and confident to do so. But because I have established myself as heterosexual, I find that people were constantly reminding me that I am straight, and never giving me even the option to consider being something else. As a proponent of LGBT rights, I have been attacked for my beliefs, and it didn't much matter if I was straight or not, I was still promoting a "sinful lifestyle" and every other manner of insult heterosexist people could throw at me. Even into adulthood I find I cannot even make jokes or light comments about lesbianism or bisexuality without someone getting suspicious about my sexuality. Not that I much care whether they think I'm gay or not, but I think it's sad how people think that if I care about gay rights I must be gay and therefore suspect. It's as stupid as people saying that only women care about feminism and women's rights. 

Someone saw my rainbow button on my backpack once and commented, "Why do you have that, people are going to think you're gay." I replied, "Well I'm an ally and I believe in gay rights." "Yeah, but you're not gay, and everyone will think you are," she replied. As if that would have been so terrible. I don't think she thought that people thinking of me as gay would be horrible so much as just inaccurate, but she was still way more concerned about what people would think of me than I was. I think even subconsciously she knew that by having that button I would be subjected to heterosexism whether I was gay or not, and while I thought it rather conformist thinking I did appreciate her concern because it means she is at least aware of heterosexism even she doesn't know how to name it. 

Finally, I still have a lot of fear and trepidation about what would happen and how my life would be affected if one day I found myself actively questioning my identity and exploring other options. It may be a conscious choice, it may happen because of an unexpected development of my life, but either way, sexuality can be and is fluid and I am open for any changes in the future. That doesn't mean I wouldn't be scared to death about it. First of all, I would have to give up the security of being in a heterosexual relationship, not only by giving up many of my rights but also the implicit acceptance by many people in my life. I would have to go through the entire arduous process of coming out to my family and friends, and having to educate people who don't understand or deal with the hostility of people who refuse to understand. These prospects alone I believe may have been a factor in my staying in serial heterosexual relationships. It doesn't matter how much I say I do not care and that I would be fearlessly "loud and proud" about my sexuality, I understand what obstacles I would have to face. And therefore I am a victim of heterosexism before I even consider not being heterosexual. 

Dynamics of Men and Women in Mixed Groups

I've recently had a couple of experiences in a class that have thoroughly pissed me off and that I feel I cannot keep quiet about. My professor told me that even if we disagree we must band with all the potential allies we can get. I really appreciate it when men want to be a part of women's studies but at the same time I feel the conversational dynamics (or lack of) pose a great problem for alliances between men and women in feminism.

This guy in my class completely trashed a well-known theorist in our class, claiming that it was "complete and utter nonsense." WTF? This theorist is incredibly intelligent (yes, dude, she IS smarter than you), she's been doing this for a long time, and most importantly, she is worthy of some form of respect. He said this with no backup whatsoever, not "I don't like her because..." or "I just didn't agree with her on..." I'm sorry, but to say it's nonsense is just another way of saying "I didn't understand it therefore it must be nonsense."

I spoke with my professor about it at length, and she gave me some really good advice. She told me to look to him as an ally, even if we disagree, and that it's not worth it to get so pissed off. She advised me to let it go. I took this to heart and went to class the next day determined to remain chill and forget about it. 

Then the next day one of my classmates was sharing an anecdotal experience that was relevant to our discussion. This guy completely turned on her, practically spitting out that anecdotes are useless and not generalizable for theory. He continued this argument over and over even though the rest of us as well as the professor were trying to defend her and explain to him that she wasn't implying that at all, in fact she was presenting it as the exception to the rule. His final comment was "Well, I reject the anecdote." I just about lost it. I responded by telling a story of my own and saying pointedly "I know that's an ANECDOTE but I was just sharing my own experience."

My professor just about jumped my ass and told me to calm down, which was partly justified because I know that one of my biggest weakness is the inability to control my temper and keep my big mouth shut. It's like word vomit. I just couldn't stand the pointed, potentially hurtful comments directed at one of my peers. No, the fight may not be worth it, but it is when they start bullying other people. I just won't stand for that.

The point to this story is that I wonder sometimes if this is just how men tend to act in mixed groups. They feel they have to talk over people, argue about everything and be totally inconsiderate of others in order to get their point across. This is the way they are trained from birth to interact with people, while women are taught to be quiet, acquiescent to others' views, and to build relationships no matter what. Neither being assertive nor considerate of others' viewpoints are bad things, but there is a point where it is just counterproductive to a discursive, respectful environment. And next time he pulls this bullshit, I will be all over his ass, I don't care if I get kicked out of the class.

Keeping it Simple

It has been an exhausting week. I've worked 48 hours at work, and so did not get much of a spring break. So much stuff I wanted to get done that didn't. I love my job, I love helping women but sometimes I feel like it's going to consume my whole life, when I need to focus on other things, like V-Day for instance, or getting into grad school or taking my dog to the park. Maybe I should take a step back for awhile. I think when you work in social services, your life and individuality starts to bleed into your work, it becomes a part of you just because of the sensitive situations you constantly find yourself handling. But you have to be able to step back, to harden your skin, and be careful not to get too emotionally involved. If I let every case of domestic violence get to me (which some of the more severe ones do) I'd be crying at work all the time and never get anything done. Not only that, but in this area you find you are constantly giving of yourself to others, because they need love, they need all of the compassion and support they can get. This sometimes leaves us empty, bled out, with nothing left to give to ourselves, nothing left to sustain us.

"I told myself I was strong enough

That I had plenty of blood to give
And each elbow cradled a needle
But listless and faint ain't no way to live" ~Ani Difranco, Swim

So when I feel this way, I do what one of my coworkers used to call "pushing my reset button." She described it as doing something, just for you, that can re-energize you and get you out of the funk you're stuck in. So I got nostalgic and bought....a Backstreet Boys concert DVD.

Yep, that's right. And before you look at me shamed and horrified, let me just explain that I bought it not necessarily because I'm still a fan (although, let's face it, I really am) but more that the Backstreet Boys were a staple part of my girlhood. Sometimes it feels really good to just get back to the basics, and nurture your inner child (or in my case, my inner 'tween dork). Why? Because it's fun.

In light of that confession (try not to laugh too hard) I would urge each of you to think back to something that really made you happy as a kid. Even those of us who had dark childhoods have that one thing that makes them jump up and down and giggle. Whether it's a Disney movie, a favorite game, or a place that makes you feel safe, (or a 90's boy band) that's your reset button.

I've never written something like this because I used to think that every single blog entry had to be a well-thought out argument about feminism, and thus was writing about once a month. Then I realized, this is a blog, not only about feminism but about me. And since I practice feminism in my everyday life, I hope each of my experiences reflect that. That means opening up and revealing things about myself that make me the woman I am. So, I want to send an unabashed thanks to the Backstreet Boys for their small part in making me that woman.
P.S. - Thanks to Sarah for watching it with me when no one else could and appreciate it the way I do :)

Enjoy:

Queering my education

I'm taking a "Queer Issues in Education" class, and Paul, my professor asked us to write reflections on our queer experiences in our education, and how we have been affected by homophobia and heterosexism.

As for me, I have never really had a formal “queer” education; it’s always come in subtle bits and pieces, and a lot of it unfortunately had to be self-taught. I was lucky enough to take the very first American Women’s History course at my high school, which, though in a small way, queered my academic perspective from that point onward. I knew that one of my most beloved teachers in high school (who incidentally was the one who taught the women’s history course) was gay, though I was never able to meet her partner, because the privileged few of us who knew her orientation kept it quiet out of respect for (or maybe fear for) her reputation as a teacher. Plus, it was her personal life, so whose business was it anyway? Still, I wonder, did she feel she had to hide or did she simply regard her private life as just that, private? Unfortunately, I never really got the chance to ask her.

hooks vs. Lorde: The two Titans

So I've decided to make it a black lesbian feministy spring break and read all of my black feminist literature: bell hooks, Audre Lorde, and Alice Walker.

It amazes me how hooks' and Lorde's styles are completely different but basically saying the same thing. I must confess I've always been more of a Lorde fan and the more I read of hooks the more frustrated I get with her. I've read the bulk of From Margin to Center but pretty much skimmed the rest because every single chapter begins with something like: The feminist movement has always been co-opted by white bourgeois spoiled women who ignored and repressed the needs and issues of poor women and women of color. Jesus, woman, I get it, okay? Must you hit me over the damn head with it every time? It's not even like I take offense as a white woman, because I know what she is saying is true. My issue with her is that sometimes she makes assumptions and claims about white women's experience with nothing to back it up, not an example, or a quote, nothing. There were several parts in the book where I actually said to myself, "Uh, I don't think that's ever happened." Or when she makes a general reference to white feminists I found myself going, "Which white feminists?" I think she makes a lot of assumptions about white women's experience without really knowing anything about it. Even parts that are true, about feminism initially focusing on housework and motherhood as a source of oppression, doesn't make white women's experiences any less genuine. They are simply different from black and/or poor women's experiences, and yes, a lot of it stems from privilege and white supremacy.

The thing that really pissed me off was the chapter about parenting. As far as I know, bell hooks does not have any children, first of all. First, she accuses white middle-class feminists of viewing wifehood and motherhood as sources of oppression and wanting careers. I believe it was more because women as a whole want their work as mothers to be valued the way that it should, just as much as work outside the home. Then she turns around and makes the complete opposite accusation that white feminists now are saying that motherhood is the most important thing a woman can do, at the expense of her career. Okay, the only woman I have ever heard say that is Phyllis Schlafly, and she is the most anti-feminist crazy bitch I've ever seen. So where are you getting this from, bell?

This is why I love Audre Lorde: she makes the same points, and she expresses no less anger and frustration at white feminists for ignoring the issues of black feminists. But she's able to put it in a way that does not completely alienate her audience. I've also never seen her make a claim that she did not back up with an example from her own experience or a quote from another theorist. In other words, Lorde FTW.

My next reading is Alice Walker's "We are the ones we've been waiting for" which I'm very much looking forward to, even from reading the first five pages. I'll probably write on her next.