Georgia School Makes Clear that Different is "Not Okay'

Well, of course, Jezebel beat me to posting this, but here it is in any case.

Transphobia in Public Schools

A Georgia high school has “asked” a 16-year-old, male-bodied student to dress in a “more manly” fashion or consider homeschooling. Jonathan Escobar, the student, wears—according to this article (and as is evident in the video interview)—wigs, high heels, skinny jeans, women’s ‘vintage tops’ (whatever that means), and makeup to school. After being involved in a lunchtime fight in the cafeteria, Jonathan withdrew from school, and—as he remarks in the video—would be happy to return if he is allowed to express himself in the manner that makes him happy; i.e., while cross-dressing. There is some disputed evidence involved in the situation; Jonathan claims that he cleared his attire with the school before moving from Miami to Georgia; the school, it would seem, denies this. Administrators are defending themselves by reminding everyone that, although there is no official dress code, attire that might potentially ‘cause disruption’ is prohibited.

Jonathan comes across as an incredibly mature and well-adjusted teenager, especially considering he’s (and it’s unclear whether he prefers ‘she’ or not, since he’s being referred to as masculinely-gendered in all of the articles I found, not to mention he retains the name Jonathan) making one of the most difficult statements a high-schooler can make: as he remarks, “I want people to know that it’s okay to be different.” And, as I well remember from high school, when ‘different’ is specifically construed in the mode of crossing gender boundaries, there is little to no support from peer groups—or, for that matter, from authority figures in the school. As Jonathan’s school shows, administrators are more concerned with avoiding conflict than with creating—perhaps at some risk—an accepting and open environment. An assistant principal blamed Jonathan’s attire for the resulting cafeteria fight—though at what point this same principal made clear that students should never lay hands on one another in violence, I’m not sure.

Though I was tough-skinned enough by high school to handle myself against homophobic taunts, I distinctly remember teachers and staff in junior high, and even elementary school, turning a deaf ear to the kids who would scream “faggot” or “sissy” or “little girl” at me in the hallways. Come to think of it, I can’t recall a single time when an authority figure made it clear that insults and threats of physical violence were not okay, even if the person being threatened were ‘different.’ Not to say that all teachers are scum, but to say that the public education system does not foster an environment where ‘difference’ is accepted into the fray. Again, the impetus is to avoid conflict rather than to cope with it—and perhaps this is because there’s so little protection for public school teachers in situations like this. People lose their jobs over giving a student a kind word, or for defending themselves against a student that physically threatens or lays hands on them. So I can see why, perhaps, authority figures in the public educational system prefer to keep their hands clear of anything like this.

Nonetheless, there should be some way to get the message across that, as Jonathan says, “it’s okay to be different.” There should be a support system in place, particularly seeing as so many kids who don’t fit in with the norm are not accepted in their home lives, either; ultimately, with no one at home, in their peer groups, or in positions of authority (teachers, administrators, employers) to create a support system, the so-termed ‘deviant’ is left entirely alone. One of the highest rates of attempted or successful suicide occurs in the transgender community. There is, it would seem, no place in which trans folks can feel safe—and this extends, more generally, to the GLBTQ community, particularly at that vulnerable moment we all find ourselves in in high school. Jonathan is fortunate in some sense, because it seems that he knows who he is, what will make him happy, and will stand up for his right to express himself freely. But he is a special case; most are not so fortunate.

Reading over the comments to this article, I’m positively struck by how many people are casting all blame on Jonathan. One commenter remarks that taxpayers’ dollars are putting him through school, and so he better wait until he can “exercize [sic] his adult right” to become “Boy George.” Commenter closes by implying that if he can’t accept the normative system, then he can “go join a circus or a drama school.” Many other comments reiterate the idea that Jonathan should be forced to follow the policy, because he is disrupting the classroom with his ‘inappropriate’ clothing. My younger sister is still in high school; I’ve seen the wide range of styles that, though purportedly violating the dress code (for example, no loose jeans, no girls in strapless or thin-strapped tops, no offensive remarks on shirts, etc.), kids get away with. I’m not going to play with the politics of what it means for a teenage girl to dress like a “slut”—because I recognize the kinds of demeaning attitudes in place to make sure girls cover up all their naughty bits in the right way—but the fact is that the girls get away with it. Ditto on the loose jeans, the ‘offensive’ shirts—I don’t want to say whether or not these are okay, because that’s a whole ‘nother ballpark with very different implications, but ultimately, the only reason Jonathan is being legitimately put into this position and harassed to such a great extent is because he has violated normalizing ideals of masculine gender performance.

The comments on the site repeat over and again that he can “do what he wants” when he’s out of school, but that children need rules and regulations. But these are 16-year-olds; they are not ‘children’ who need a bit of a refresher course vis-à-vis the paddle. Comments like this infantilize people like Jonathan, who are clearly at a point where they are self-aware enough to make the decision to dress themselves in the morning; does anyone comment on the fact that the nice little “children” that beat him up in the cafeteria need to be properly regulated? No. They do go on and on about the fact that school is not a “freak show” in which Jonathan can dress the way that makes him feel comfortable. Finally, one comment shrieks “SEND HIM TO IRAN.”

On that note, I’m too furious to continue.

O NOES! The Miscarriage Tweeter!

Oh! Here’s something. So who heard the story of the woman—Penelope Trunk (works for careerist.com, I believe, geared towards teaching people how to market and manage their careers)—who tweeted about her miscarriage in a board room meeting? The tweet, on her account which is, I guess, public and possibly also geared towards career-based networking, reads: “I'm in a board meeting. Having a miscarriage. Thank goodness, because there's a fucked-up 3-week hoop-jump to have an abortion in Wisconsin.” The media, of course, flew into a frenzy—how dare this woman be so blasé about the loss of a special-snowflake life! Is there nothing sacred in the cyber-verse? What compelled this idiot to tweet something so personal/devastating/graphic?

And yes, I am aware that most people would not wish to exhibit their miscarriage/abortion woes for the entire world. Yes, I realize the thin line between private and public in the Internet Age veers closer and closer to nonexistence—that really anything under the sun seems to be fair game for tweets and facebook status updates and myspace (do people still use that?) comments. Finally, no, I would not put this kind of information on my twitter account. (Well, I did post something on there about my glass-cutting nipples yesterday—but I think that remains fairly tame and mostly ironic.)

But then I saw this interview:

Rick Sanchez Interviews Penelope Trunk for CNN

…and several things came up for me, as well as things that I mulled over from some wonderful comments over on Jezebel (which I highly encourage you all to read, if you aren’t already! srsly one of the best blogs on the internetz!).

1. Would we all tweet this experience? No. But ultimately, she’s achieved exactly what, it seems, she was going for. People are talking about women’s bodily experiences—about the nitty-gritty of miscarrying a child (which, I’ll confess, I had no idea lasted over the course of weeks!), about the obstacles to having an abortion in this country, and about the fact that we HAVE NOT been talking about these issues in an open manner. As someone on Jezebel remarked, even the most ardently pro-choice advocates don’t discuss abortion in such a frank and unapologetic way. Trunk does not spare (that bastard interviewer) Rick Sanchez, and she most certainly doesn’t uphold the conventional image of the (post-abortion) martyred and grief-stricken fallen woman. She comments on the difficulty of having the procedure done in a timely and convenient manner without infusing her discussion with hot-button moralizing phraseology; she makes very clear how both miscarriages and abortions are facts-of-life for many women, and that having careers—and being stuck in a board meeting—does not mean that women aren’t going through these experiences. It’s just that no one is talking about it.

2. Sanchez attempts to put this awful fallen woman in her place at several occasions, to hilariously futile effect. He opens the interview with “Now I’m going to ask you a tough question, young lady” despite the fact that he’s speaking with a grown fucking woman (!)—not some Hot-Topic-styled tweenager cowering in his presence (and I wouldn’t condone his stance if it were). Sanchez infantilizes her, perhaps in the effort to undermine her capacity for decision making, perhaps to question her moral sanity, perhaps simply to impel his own masculine authority over her. His paternalistic demeanor throughout the interview is almost laughable, but the unfortunate and underlying fact of the matter here is that, in fact, much of the media was reacting in this very way to her—they just weren’t as visibly douchey about it. In the interview, he makes it crystal clear that he has no desire to listen to what she has to say or to think about it, perhaps, from her vantage point. As Trunk holds her own in the interview, going into great detail of the ways in which miscarriages occur, and bringing up a rather surprising factoid—that 75% of women have miscarried while at work (which, as Trunk points out, is not unusual, because miscarriages occur over the span of weeks, and aren’t vastly dissimilar to the experience of the menstrual cycle)—Sanchez increasingly appears confused and frustrated.

3. Once Trunk makes it clear that she was planning to abort the pregnancy, and was not going to beg for forgiveness for such a ‘heinous’ action—Sanchez attempts, once more, to undercut her decision. By reminding all of America that Trunk is already a mother, that she has children and cherishes them, or whatever the fuck Sanchez was trying to communicate, he reifies the notion that women are essentially reduced to their reproductive value. An abortion, as he attempts to paint it, is okay only if a woman wants to—does—fulfill her ‘proper’ role as wife and mother. But what Sanchez cannot seamlessly cover over in the process of the interview is Trunk’s insistence on the inadequacy of the legal and health systems of this country to provide optimal service for women that choose to end a pregnancy. Her repeated and merciless attention to the pragmatic workings of her experience—and the experience, as she remarks, of many many women who don’t or can’t talk about it—shines through the interview.

4. And ultimately, the very media that decries Trunk for her so-called TMI moment is the same media that’s not only awarding her the spotlight they seem to think she should be denied—but that believes the Kardashians and the Hiltons are newsworthy, that the ‘reality’ stars of a show like The Hills are worthy of having every moment of their lives publicized. The difference, I suppose, is that Trunk is controlling her own spotlight here, and she’s got something to say. But the hypocritical positioning of the talking heads since this burst out has been simply ludicrous.

5. And quote of the year? She reminds us all in the face of Sanchez’s ignorance that “Whether or not you believe women should have the right to abortion, they do in this country.”

So great. Seriously, watch it. Absolutely refreshing to see someone speaking so frankly and powerfully on the subject of abortion. Whatever you think of her decision to tweet the info, it’s panned out to get an honest dialogue going—and for that, I have nothing but respect for her.

Oh! Also, here are two badly-done phone camera photos!



Aw, the English grad lounge (also Classics, but who cares for them?). Couches, and the fridge where I store my little brown-bag-lunch. And a water machine (what the hell are those called?) that even has hot water for my tea! I spend 90% of my time on campus here.



See, see! There I am! Reading! And the book isn't upside down. But it is Judith Butler, so it may as well be.

More soon.

Who the Fuck Says "Gay is the new black!"?

Thanks to a couple of diligent and brilliant LGBTQ leaders from the W&M student body, I stumbled across this article on facebook—a brief, and in my opinion, precariously surface-level analysis of the intersection of race and sexuality under President Obama. Because I, let’s say, stumbled over several of Mr. Granderson’s statements, I thought I’d parse them out a bit—and would love to hear what the rest of you think.

Before I say anything else, I should acknowledge that discussions of race, particularly when race intersects with another marginalized culture or group, tend to be eggshell-tiptoeing sorts of debates. I don’t go out of my way to step on toes, but Mr. Granderson’s article felt a bit like a stiletto stabbing into my own, so I’d like to at least stir up his shallow thought-pool a bit. And of course, any such discussion is invariably dependent on personal experience—just as it is with sexuality, one person’s capacity to understand or empathize with a greater ‘group’ sort of experience or consciousness is limited to what they’ve come to understand on an individual level. It seems self-evident that my experience as a gay male is vastly different from the next queen’s, or that my consciousness as a white male will, again, not mirror that of a black (gay) male (or female, or trans, for that matter).

But here’s where my first hitch hits. Perhaps employed as the backbone of his argument, Mr. Granderson contends that “Despite the catchiness of the slogan, gay is not the new black.” I begin with this because I’ve heard the retort used increasingly frequently against the allegedly white GLBTQ majority. And I don’t mean to say that the movement isn’t—at least in the public eye—dominated by whites, but that his claims are directed, perhaps unfairly, against a stereotypical understanding of the movement, and against whites as a homogenous group—something I think he’d be reluctant to accept from the reverse. My issue, however, stems from the fact that I’ve never heard someone make such an outlandish claim, or for that matter, even subtly presuppose that the gay movement is comparable to the civil rights movement for/by African-Americans.

He goes on to remark, in a rather flip manner, that “Not to split hairs, but for most blacks, the n-word trumps the f-word.” Here we come upon another of my stumbling blocks. Mr. Granderson pretty much makes my argument for me—by claiming that one word ‘trumps’ another on the oppression hierarchy. My question is this: why must there be some violently delineated totem pole of marginalization? It all becomes a petty, stick-your-tongue-out sort of game of “my identity is more subjugated than yours!” Let’s leave such antics to the playground, because in the broader scope of civil rights—for everyone, not simply for some—this tactic is more of a speedbump than anything else. Neither word—nigger or faggot, for let’s not be politically correct here without reason—is a pleasant one to hear when inappropriately wielded. I call myself a faggot frequently, but this doesn’t mean I want to hear some belligerent and probably closeted frat boy hurl it at me, just before he hurls all over his too-expensive shoes (and believe me, that’s not metaphor—that’s plenty of experience speaking). Words—even those we think of as ‘hate speech’—have only as much power as their context creates for them. In any case, there’s little gain in clarifying that one hateful and bigoted insult is ‘better’ than the other.

My problem with each of these remarks comes to the same head; that Mr. Granderson implies that racialized issues are intrinsically more substantive than sexualized issues. For starters, I’d be hard-pressed to agree that this is the case, even if the two ‘topics’ could be entirely and objectively kept separate. But more importantly (and one would assume, even more personally significant to a gay black male writer like Mr. Granderson), race and sexuality cannot be divided. Most of us will recall the catchphrase of Intro to Women’s Studies: “Gender, race, and class are intersecting categories of identity” (or something to that effect). Sexuality isn’t always included in this grocery list, but should be. I don’t live my life in compartmentalized experiences—one day, for example, I don’t decide I’ll live ‘whitely’—and then the next, perhaps, I’ll be one-hundred percent gay, or the following one, I’ll view myself, and be viewed by others, only as a member of the lower-class. So when Mr. Granderson attempts to discuss gayness and blackness as invariably separate spheres of experience, he makes the most fatal of mistakes—oppression simply does not function that way. And thus, his unspoken attempt to glorify black oppression over GLBTQ oppression (isn’t it silly—to glorify oppression?) becomes a moot point. That hierarchy blurs and bleeds until we can no longer focus on one segment without seeing traces of the others. Because this is getting long, I’ll move on—for now.

“While those who were at Stonewall talk about the fear of being arrested by police 40 years ago, blacks talked about the fear of dying at the hands of police and not having their bodies found or murder investigated.”

Ah, that trump card again? We fall back to his original claim—that (all) white members of the GLBTQ are wielding the Paris/Perez Hilton-style slogan that ‘gay is the new black!’ Insert neon-orange Mystic Tan and gum-popping here. Where is it that Mr. Granderson keeps hearing white gays equate GLBTQ oppression with centuries of black enslavement, lynching, the civil rights movement of the past century, and so forth? I think any queen who tried to say as much would be laughed right off the stage, or out of a job (especially considering one of the media personalities he targets is hot-topic/high profile lesbian Rachel Maddow). These experiences are not comparable, because no one in their right mind would see anything but the most basic of similarities between racial and sexual oppressions (again assuming we can think of them in even the most hazily separate way)—similarities in the sense that the movement for equality for all individuals is an ongoing one, and that violence, subjugation, and the systematic denial of rights has been dandily extended to both racial and sexual minorities in their historical struggle against oppression. But they are not the same—again, this seems a bit self-evident, at least to me.

And again, he comes off as dangerously insensitive by suggesting that members of the GLBTQ community do not fear for their bodily health or even for their lives on a daily basis—even in a country as supposedly progressive as the United States. Lest we forget, beyond our Uncle-Sam-centric vantage point, homosexuality is a crime punishable by death in eight nations. This is not to mention the innumerable crimes perpetrated against LGBTQ Americans—most famously and violently, of course, against people like Matthew Shepard, Brandon Teena, and Gwen Araujo, but just take a look at the Wikipedia article on ‘violence against LGBT people’ and you’ll see there’s no dearth of fear to be had in our beloved country. Is forty years of the gay movement comparable to the four hundred years of black oppression he cites in his article? No. But it’s not as though sexual ‘deviance’ erupted with free love and Stonewall—GLBTQ oppression (though not, perhaps, termed or identified in that way) didn’t just fall off the turnip truck! And considering how many cases of homophobic violence are directed against racial minorities—our aforementioned Gwen Araujo among them—such violence is not to be taken lightly, or to be dismissed as ‘less significant’ in the wider view. Any instance of violence committed against someone for their identificatory leanings—chosen or not, visible or unseen—should be decried.

“This lack of perspective is only going to alienate a black community that is still very proud of Obama and is hypersensitive about any criticism of him, especially given he's been in office barely six months. If blacks are less accepting of gays than other racial groups -- and that is certainly debatable -- then the parade of gay people calling Obama a "disappointment" on television is counterproductive in gaining acceptance, to say the least. And the fact that the loudest critics are mostly white doesn't help matters either.”

Here’s Mr. Granderson’s other crooked crutch. His anger against the ‘gay white media’ seemingly erupts from his discomfort with the fact that they’re criticizing President Obama’s handling of LGBTQ issues. This anger has two major foundational fault lines: first, Mr. Granderson once again holds up a sort of white ‘straw man’ intended to functionally represent all white members of the GLBTQ community/movement. In launching his attack, he selects a small minority of Obama’s critics and extends his frustration with them to a much wider group. If I said the same thing—if perhaps, I said that the black community was less amenable to non-heterosexual identities (which he makes a comment about in the above quote, in a sort of knee-jerk way)—my use of a black ‘straw-man’ would be unthinkable. I don’t find his similar tactic at all helpful, and certainly not any more appropriate, just because of his justifiable discomfort with a history of scapegoating.

Secondly, and centrally, his entire article rests on the assumption that the gay ‘white’ media is targeting Obama’s handling of GLBTQ issues (here, he cites the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, and a recent reception for GLBTQ leaders at the White House) because of his blackness. Correct me if I’m wrong here, but President Obama was elected to represent all citizens of this country, and thus stands in for all of us. If someone criticizes his policies, they’re criticizing his decision-making as our president—this should not, though it does not necessarily play out this way, have anything to do with his race. Obviously, I don’t mean to imply that his race is a non-issue; I, along with so many others, was profoundly proud to see our nation (one I had been increasingly disillusioned with, after four years under Pubic W. Bush) elect its first black president. And I sincerely hope that his time in office will bring about positive changes in the racial climate of this country (and not just between blacks and whites, but between everyone—obviously, immigration is also a huge issue right now). But this does not prohibit his citizens—I should say, as per Mr. Granderson’s line of though—his white citizens—from taking issues with his actions as president. He isn’t given a get-out-of-jail-free card simply because his election was historic; he doesn’t solely represent African-Americans, and thus, they are not the only citizens legitimately able to praise or jeer what he does as president. What Mr. Granderson seems to suggest is that we all keep our mouths shut until the celebration is over; that until the black community is finished being ‘hypersensitive’ to criticism of Obama (and I doubt that the entire black community of this country is wholly satisfied with him as president—that’s naively idealistic), people just shouldn’t criticize him. I find that to be a preposterous argument, that only holds up under the most shallowly-defined and hyper-politically correct lenses. Just as I would with any other president, I’ll say if I’m unhappy with President Obama’s choices—so far, I think he’s doing a pretty bang up job (though of course I have my issues, too). But I will not keep silent just to ensure that he has his honeymoon period in the White House—that’s not what he was elected for, and I doubt Obama himself would want that sort of preferential treatment.

Mr. Granderson ends with this statement: “Hearing that race matters in the gay community may not be comforting to hear, but that doesn't make it any less true.”
I can agree with him on this much; race does matter—despite the faddish yearning to claim we’re in some sort of utopian/dystopian post-race, post-gender, post-sexuality world, it just isn’t true. Race does matter, and yes, I’m sure it does make some whites cringe at the thought that they may have to look race in the face—cringe to think of their white privilege bubbling down the drain. But we have to consider these issues on a more complex level; race matters in the gay community, but likewise, sexuality matters in the black community, the white community, the latino community, etc. As do gender, class, able-bodiedness, and a plethora of other identity categories—all of these overlap, and Mr. Granderson’s simplistic attempt to level the playing field does nothing but create further gaps of understanding. He erases, as it were, the rough edges of incredibly intricate webs of political and ideological powerplay and experience. I don’t mean my response to sound bitterly retaliatory, but I find myself increasingly frustrated by these lame arguments that dumb down tough topics in order to sound more ‘innovative’ or forceful, or simply latch on to the nearest political hot button. I should also say that this dinky blog post by no means expressed everything as eloquently as I’d like to, but I figured I would get it out before I lost it. Stretch the thinking chops a bit. So what are your thoughts?