Archive

Tag Archives: Homophobia

There is more lurking about the subways these days than bag-searching cops looking for terrorists. What is that? Pen-wielding taggers who have no respect for the importance of punctuation.

I was following my back-up plan on the morning commute one day last week, which has me transferring at Union Square to the 6 when I’m pressed for time. As I walked alongside the tracks, or, rather, the cliff that leads to the tracks, I was struck by a confusing statement that could have been cleared up if only a semi-colon or comma had been used. Written on a ceramic brick pillar in blue felt-tip pen, the statement read: “Lesbians are taking over niggas better watchout”
subwaygraf.jpg
Here it is in all its illiteracy. Unfortunately, by the time I could get back there and take the picture, some letters had been rubbed off.

There are many problems with this, and I’d like to address a few here. First I will argue that “watchout” is not an acceptable version of the intransitive verb construction. It appears in Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, but I don’t care. Put a space in there. Moving on.

Now are the lesbians “taking over niggas” or are the lesbians “taking over” and so “niggas better watchout”? Let’s take a closer look. When I read it, I first took it to be the former. That “lesbians are taking over niggas.” But that doesn’t make sense; a simple semi-colon between the words “over” and “niggas” would have cleared it up, and I’m sure that’s what the writer intended.

Some sort of punctuation at the end would have been nice, as well. The writer is culturally illiterate; this much we know. His cover is further blown, then, because, going with this structure, we are to believe that lesbians will rule over “niggas.” But is this political rule or sexual rule? Both? I doubt this confusion is what the writer intended, which is another argument for a semi-colon. The other way makes more sense to me, and it more clearly establishes the writer as the homophobic coward that he is, rather than the paranoid one that the other construction implies.

Imagine for a minute that there is some sort of punctuation (at this point anything will do). What we have then is what the writer actually meant to express, which is that “niggas better watch out” because “lesbians are taking over.” But what are lesbians taking over? Are they simply taking over everything, including but not limited to the economic and political structures in the U.S. or are they engaged in a global takeover; clothing styles; radio stations; theatre; New York? I doubt the writer meant any of these given the lack of intelligence he has. So it’s probably pretty safe to assume that he meant that lesbians are taking over women.

But again, here we find ourselves in a bit of a bind. Is this “women” in general or black women, specifically? I won’t make an assumption about this point and will therefore explore both possibilities. First of all, this implies that a) there are no black lesbians and b) black women are the property of black men and therefore need to be protected from the army of lesbian marauders poised for a “takeover.”

But then what is meant by “black” if, in fact, this is what the writer meant but failed to get across? Does it refer to those who live in the U.S. and count U.S. slaves as their ancestors? Or does it also include other people who consider themselves “black”: women from Africa, South and Central America, the Caribbean, etc.? All of these questions make me think about this writer.

Perhaps his girlfriend dumped him for a woman. It’s happened. Often, “straight” women will find themselves intrigued by other women and will often do a little dabbling. I’ve unfortunately crossed the path of a few. (But this isn’t about me, is it?)

This raises an interesting issue, though: It’s acceptable for two “feminine-appearing” women to be together. To stroke one another on the dance floor. It’s acceptable for them to step out on their men for a time to see what it’s like on the other side. Because if she “looks like a woman” then it’s hot, according to some men, and these same men believe that the act is solely for their benefit. We know this.

What’s happening here, then, is that these “lesbians” to which the writer refers are marked as such. They are visibly lesbians, such as myself, whose most identifiable traits are recognizable as masculine. And, therefore, I think it’s safe to conclude that butches are the ones this writer fears. The ones who provoked this vitriolic vandalism.

But lesbians are women, which is another problem the writer failed to address. He has with this comment erased the sexual agency women have, thus rendering them helpless against would-be predators. Lesbian predators, that is. His fear is predicated on the fact that lesbians are sexual beings who will “take over” sexually, i.e. step in and overtake unsuspecting damsels on their way to power. But if he meant that lesbians are taking over, then one can’t ignore the fact that this means they’ll be taking over themselves, because, well, lesbians are women.

From this, one can assume that the writer believes “hot” ones are okay, and most definitely are women. Further, he believes that “hot” ones, in addition to being “acceptable” versions of “woman,” are not truly lesbians, because they’re acceptable versions of “woman.” But the other ones, the butches the writer seems to be talking about, are not “real women” and are therefore those lesbians to which he refers who have no physical or emotional need for men. This is one sentiment circulating through the small brains of the particularly culturally retarded.

Now, if we are to take butches as this man’s target, it might good to briefly look into what he could be reacting to. If we are to believe that he does not think butches are “real women,” then we are forced to ask, then, what are they? Smart people know the answer to this, but this man is not of that ilk and therefore we should consider his alternative mode of thought.

If they’re not real women, which, again is what I believe he must think, then they must be woefully inadequate versions of men. This notion pervades much of the homophobic rhetoric that exists not only in this man’s world, but also, sadly, in the gay world. So it would seem that he is actually copping to his inability to deal with his in(fear)iority complex concerning his masculinity. Butches are, in fact, women whose gender expression is masculine. But they are not trying to be men, nor do they walk around trying to co-opt a male identity.

This is lost on the writer who most likely believes that butches are trying to be men, and part of that includes an attempt to “take over” “their women.” But it doesn’t end here. I hate to beat a dead race horse, but not all of us are white. Black masculinity. Those of us in this category carry by virtue of our skin color another bag whose weight rests on the fear of the black and Latino male.

I think we can safely assume that this writer was sounding a warning to black men everywhere that they should protect their women — black and otherwise, let’s just say — from preying lesbians (read, butch) bent on taking over something. I still can’t be sure if it’s the world or simply the women he is afraid of losing control over. The “better watchout” aspect of his warning does imply that he does believe he has control over something.

What exactly, a black man in the United States has control over, though, is beyond me. The writer’s target, I argue, is the butch of color. Our existence threatens his masculinity, the very thing for which he relies on for a place in this world.



I left my house at 3 p.m. today after taking care of my business on the phone. I am working at school on Monday for a few hours to help with orientation. I will be handing out packets to incoming students.

I get to be one of the first faces they see as they enter the building for the first time. Could be good. Could be bad. It will be interesting nonetheless. I remember my first time at the GF. I was so nervous. But I remember the introductory speeches filing me with so much excitement.

And here I am, a week and a half away from the start of my second and final year in grad school. I can’t believe how quickly it has gone. A year ago today I was still on the road. We were probably in Ohio. I had no idea what was to come, but I have met so many wonderful people and have grown so much. But I still have more to grow.

This summer has been a testament to the things that I seem to be flushing out of my system. Knowing what I want in life and from people are two things that have been forefront in my mind for the past couple of months and I can only see myself now going after what I want.

The passion I have inside for so many things reminds me every day that there is meaning to be had in life. There are relationships to enter and people to love. And the bottom line is you gotta love what you’re livin’ (these six words came out of my mouth on my birthday as a matter of fact during a conversation I was having with someone pondering an MFA in art. It’s become my motto. If anyone knows if someone else said it before me — someone famous — go ahead and let me know. Otherwise, I’ll take the credit for coining it). Wow, that was a tangent. So I left my house at three. Read More

New York’s Harvey Milk High School is expanding. The first and only school for queer youth, at first thought, sounds great. If Notre Dame High, home of the Knights, in Sherman Oaks, Calif., was an all-gay school, god knows I would have enjoyed my time there much more. All those girls I looked at every day, lamenting over the fact that their hearts belonged to any number of the well-to-do jocks next to whom I sat every day, would have, instead, been open to a soiree or two with yours truly. Read More

Can the *ucking Spurs maintain a lead. For *uck’s sake. I can’t handle this. And what’s worse: I had to listen to it while watching a TNT that didn’t come in all the way. Moving on….  A friend of mine — Wendy-Sue — came to visit today. We just planned it the other night. It was fun. I went and met her in Chinatown.

Even though I lived pretty close to it, I never really made it over there. Wendy-Sue and I hung out at the park and at my place. It was cool. And we had a good talk while watching the clouds roll back in. I guess it’s not time for summer here yet, but this is a little ridiculous. I did some work today and am starting to feel much better about not working. I started my fourth book this morning and should finish it tomorrow.

So far, I’ve read Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, Virginia Woolf’s Orlando, James Baldwin’s Go Tell It on the Mountain, and I’ll finish Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage tomorrow. I can get used to this. I have been spending a little too much time online but that’s to be expected when I was without it for so long. I haven’t called the temp agency back yet. To be honest, I’m not totally excited to be asking that place for work. I didn’t mention this but I have another gender story I’d like to share and it happened while I was at the temp agency.

After I filled out all the paper work and took the tests, I returned to the waiting room to, well, wait. I was reading Orlando at the time and, interestingly, had just reached the point in the novel where Orlando wakes up as a woman. (If you haven’t seen the movie, rent it. The beautiful Tilda Swinton stars as Orlando.) Anyway, I’m sitting there reading for just a short while and then a woman came in and took my papers from the desk. “Catherine?” she said. Looking up from my book, I said “yes.”

She then looked at me, with a rather confused gaze on her face, looked back down at her clipboard and then asked again, this time with a bit of trepidation in her voice, if it was, indeed me. Again, I said, “yes.” Then she said with a bit of disappointment in her voice, “ok, come with me.” The meeting was only about five minutes long and it seemed as though she couldn’t get me out of there fast enough.

I was in a good mood, so I tried not to let her get to me, bitch though she may have been. Instead, I walked out into the sunny day in a fairly good mood (the last day I saw the sun) and decided I needed to come back that way to go to the NY Public Library (42ndish and Madison).

It’s across the street from the temp agency. So I have a feeling that even if there were jobs to be had, none of them would come my way. I will call her tomorrow, though. I think I might want to conduct a little test. On what, I’m not sure. Maybe to see how long she can put me off. We’ll see.

The grades are starting to roll in. I just checked and my Gender, Politics and History grade came back (flatulent professor). She gave me an A-. I’m not totally happy with it but I am much happier than I would have been had she given me anything lower. I’m just glad to be done with her.

This lowers my GPA to a 3.77, so hopefully my other two glasses will be better. I’m actually expecting either an A- or lower for my Political Feminist Theory course because that was tough. It had me strung up all the way until the end. But I know the prof liked me. In my presence last week, she told this guy who works in her office (Academic Affairs) that I was an exciting student to have. That was cool. She brought me in there because I had information about the inability of the Financial Aid Department to mail us out our information for next year. I still don’t know what kind of loans I’m getting from New School, which means I haven’t been able to apply for additional funds elsewhere. Hopefully I’ll be able to come back. Anyway, I was in her office and she took me by the thumb into his office. I’m not saying this means I’ll get an A or A- in the class (especially since the Spurs can’t maintain a bloody 19-point lead) but you never know.

“Teen Lesbian Sues School” and “Lesbian Student Couple Signals School Change” are two headlines I came across this week on CNN.com. It’s wonderful to see teen lesbians out there making names for themselves. In other gay news, although not specifically lesbian, a school board in Philadelphia has decided to name a high school after Bayard Rustin, a gay, black male civil rights worker. The story refers to his homosexuality, as well as the fact that he was the actual mastermind behind the 1963 March on Washington where King delivered his impassioned “I Have a Dream” speech. The news item also mentions that Rustin had to work behind the scenes because the Civil Rights movement would have been unable to deal with a gay man in its corner (one social movement at a time, please). However, and unfortunately, what CNN.com failed to reveal was that Rustin was pushed out of his involvement with the March on Washington. He was told that rumors would be spread about his sexual relationship with King. But, they probably didn’t have enough space for all that. But they did have enough space for this: “If every one of the 16 million men and women of the armed forces refused to serve our country, we would be speaking German and Japanese,” area resident Marvin Baughman said at the board meeting. This eloquent quote followed the reasoning from those who “objected to naming it after a man who was gay, briefly a member of a Communist youth group in the 1930s and who was a conscientious objector during World War II.” Enough of the gays.

It’s been a while since I’ve written. The reason is that I’ve been working on this bloody paper on whiteness. I was so excited about it a couple of months ago. Had I actually started it a couple of months ago, I wouldn’t have been in this position now. I’ve got to write the conclusion yet and make 75% of it sound much better than it does after the thrashing it got in the last two days by carefully chosen editors. I’m headed to L.A. on Monday. Then Sacramento on Thursday. Or Friday morning. And I can’t believe I failed to mention the Czech-Italian La Trattoria. Sausage and tortellini. I can taste it. I’ll need to be hitting that place, too. Because there’s absolutely no reason for me to still be awake right now, I’m going to close. Even though I’ll be on the west coast, I might try to post some entries. Try to keep the writing fresh. Although it hasn’t helped so far.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.