More on "bisexual" versus "queer"

I've been very pleased to find a few other bi-identified bloggers through other folks' blogrolls and have been doing a lot of reading today. Some of my reading led to further thoughts on definitions and labels.

Aviva at Bi-Furious! writes that for her, "queer" is an oppositional identity:

Broad and welcoming as it is, it means some very specific things to me. It means setting myself against what society expects of me as a soft-spoken white girl on her way from and most likely to the middle class. It means radical lefty politics, and standing against racism, sexism, class-based oppression, ableism, fatphobia, etc. as much as I can and ideally as much as I do against heterosexism, biphobia, etc. It means being drawn to queerness in others, and building a community of people who share those values and convictions with me. Placing myself in a history that has involved riots and marches and protests and angry people of all colors and genders who’ve had enough, not corporate-sponsored parades attended mostly by white people claiming to be inclusive. Fighting for immigration righs and universal health care and the right to decide who makes one’s medical decisions and inherits one’s property regardless of whether one is coupled, rather than a few more coupled people’s right to access those things through marriage. And it means all of that much more than it means being attracted to other girl-creatures, though that’s a part of it and part of how I got here.

I feel similarly about the word "queer"--that it means much more than attraction unbounded by gender, but also an unconventionality of identity as regards gender and sexuality, and an identification and solidarity with other queer folks of all stripes.

As a ciswoman, I have never doubted my femaleness but have never felt particularly feminine in the traditional sense. I am attracted to androgyny as much as maleness or femaleness. I am kinky and perverted and poly-open. As I become more and more "out" in the world, I experience my queerness more and more--sometimes as alienation, sometimes as pride, sometimes just as difference: being outside the norm. Queer, strange, bent. I've realized that I have always unconsciously recognized and been drawn to other queer people, to my people.

In comments to her post, Aviva goes on to talk about the word "bi":

I’m deliberately queering the word bi by using it to describe my orientation, which goes far beyond liking “both” genders. I use it to fight the stereotypes that have grown up about bisexuals, things like us being confused, young and undecided, fickle, untrustworthy, etc.

Challenging the stereotypes of bisexuality is definitely one of my reasons for claiming bi identity. My main problem with the word is, as discussed in my last post, that it invokes a binary paradigm of gender and sexuality that is potentially offensive/oppressive to trans and genderqueer people. Is it possible to queer the word, as Aviva puts it? I'm not sure, but at the moment I do feel like it's as important to use the word as it is to challenge the assumptions on which it is based.

Bliss Warrior brings up another important aspect:

By creating a bisexual community that is strong and vibrant, we can show our diversity. Bisexuals can and do have successful monogamous relationships. Bisexuals are not liars, or confused, or discontent in their relationships. They are not trashy girls who will jump into bed with just anybody. The problem is, if we all go around saying we are ‘beyond labels’, how do we create community and fight the negative stereotypes?...

When we have no visibility or power, it’s easy for pornographers to define our culture.

Community and visibility are both sorely needed among those of us who exist between the lines of gay/lesbian and straight. Bliss Warrior also mentions a friend "who is ’straight’ when she’s with her heterosexual friends and ‘lesbian’ when she is out with her dyke friends. But she has no space to be her real self and few friends who understand who she really is." This really resonated with me personally. I am extremely lucky to have a small community of close friends who are queer/bi (or genuine allies) to whom my bi-ness is visible. But I also still have heterosexual friends who I'm not yet out to, and belong to an LGBT student group to whom I've never outright declared myself. In contrast, the relief of being among people who really know who I am is palpable, liberating, and it binds me very tightly to those friends.

I've seen a couple of queer-identified people who have rejected the word "bisexual" discuss how they enjoy throwing people for a loop by refusing to identify as straight, gay or bi. I feel the opposite: I want people to be as little confused as possible. I want to be very clear about who I am in this regard. And so I very much agree with Bliss Warrior that "floating under a non-labeled identity" makes us invisible.

Let me be clear here as well: I would never tell anyone how to identify. But I myself am driven by a personal and political desire (need?) to NOT be invisible, a need that emerges as much from my (admittedly spotty) knowledge of the history of the LGBTQ movement as from my emotional experience of being closeted--both voluntarily and involuntarily, as by other's assumptions--versus being out. Identifying as simply "queer" allows too many assumptions to stand for my comfort--by not defining myself, I feel like it gives others too much room to define me.

I guess, in considering all this, I am best identified as a queer bisexual/bisexual queer. All hail the both/and!

The wrong word

Bisexual(ity) is the wrong word.

It's wrong from beginning to end. "Bi" implies binary: only two genders, two sexualities. "Sexual" implies that this is all about sex and with whom we have sex, that we must all be sexual or sexually active people. It excludes trans people and asexual people and genderqueer people. It ignores the fluid nature of sexuality, identity, gender. In defining "in between" it misses the point of between.

And yet I've been very careful to use it on this blog, in describing myself. It's a deliberate choice, despite the fact that I feel increasingly at home with the word "queer" and, as the above paragraph explains, increasingly dissatisfied with all permutations of "bi."

Why this choice? Because when, just a few years ago, I was struggling to come to terms with my own identity and sexual orientation, I never thought to use "queer" as a search term. "Bisexual" was the only word I knew that might apply to what I felt. It was the only thing I had to hang onto. And it allowed me to find people like me, people who were going through the same thing, who understood.

I talk about "bisexuality" and define myself as bisexual here because I want to make sure people can find me.

But I also wear the label because there really is no good, precise word for who/what I am. "Queer" covers a multitude of identities and preferences, and non-queer folks have no idea what it means. (Sometime, I'll have to write here about trying to explain queerness to my parents.) "Pansexual" seems like an overstatement (especially for someone who is extremely picky in her attractions). "Non-monosexual" is overly technical and a negative definition. "Polysexual" suggests non-monogamy as much or more than non-gender-based attraction. I'd kind of like to popularize "humansexual" but for shorthand use, again, no one has any idea what that means.

"Bisexual" is the word people know, and language is inadequate, and oh hell no one really knows what "bisexual" means either. But it provides a starting point, at least. It opens a dialogue about between-ness. It allows me to be visible in my communities.

And visibility is crucial, which is one reason I've begun this blog.

More later.