The Limits of Academic Feminism

I was musing on the annoying (and often oppressive) nature of many academy-educated feminists after a dear friend came to me ranting about the antics of a mutual acquaintance.

To clarify, by academy-educated feminist, I don't mean a feminist that has been educated in academia or holds a degree in higher education. I mean feminists who received all or most of their education about feminisms in the academy, whose entire view of feminism has been shaped solely by the power dynamics present in each and every university classroom (yes, even the gender studies courses).

Looking back, my gender studies classes provided very little of what makes up my identity as Feminist today. I left school gung-ho about abortion rights and, while I had some vocabulary to discuss intersectionality, my Feminism was largely limited and, at times, point-blank oppressive.

This isn't uncommon. Look at any syllabus for a survey feminist theory course and you'll find pretty much the same format:

• First Wave Feminism - Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, suffrage, and a white lady's account of Sojourner Truth.
• Second Wave Feminism - Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem, Roe v. Wade, Title IX. 
• The 1980s - Catherine MacKinnon, Andrea Dworkin and the "feminist sex wars." Poststructuralist feminism, featuring Judith Butler and the obligatory mind blowing of fresh-faced academes. 
• Third Wave Feminism - Really just "We're going to spend a month reading Jennifer Baumgardner."
• Literally one or two weeks to "cover" non-mainstream feminisms - Black feminism, transfeminism, sex-positive feminism, cross-continental feminism, etc.

See the issue? All the mainstream stuff is taught chronologically, and if we have time at the end, we're going to go back in time to cover "the other stuff" that "doesn't fit" within the feminisms we're already familiar with.

A bunch of gender studies professors relegating "other" feminisms to the back of the syllabus isn't a huge surprise, of course (as I said, university power dynamics). The worst part about this trend is the five minute feelgood spiel they'd always give at the end: "Let's take a moment to reflect on how it's problematic to teach gender studies this way. ... Okay, have a great summer!"

Wait, hold on! Did you just say that everything you've been doing all semester is problematic? Can we talk about that for a moment? Maybe think of solutions?

No, because class is dismissed and everyone is jumping up from their seats to head to their next class.

(Besides, the professor's problematic syllabus probably won't be on the final.)

Equality, assimilationist, and other buzzwords trolling my feed today

I've been trying to put into words my feelings on all these red equal signs and greater-than signs popping up on my feed all day, so I thought I'd share my thoughts on what appears to be an ingrown divide.

I was married once. And no, it didn't contribute to my liberation at all. It did, however, make living in this society a little bit easier. Filing taxes jointly, knowing I was assured health benefits and hospital visitation rights, and other protections I gained by enmeshing myself in that institution were all lovely privileges that I was thankful to have at my fingertips. I was also looked at differently: I was an adult woman living with an adult man, and we were married. There was more approval of our relationship, of the way we were living. It was more palatable to our society's views on relationships and love. Problematic at its core? Oh hell yes. Easier? You betcha.

I think you'd be hard-pressed to find any actual member of the LGBTQI community who actually thinks the right to marry will ensure total liberation for them or anyone they know. Sure, the neo-liberal tendencies in the more powerful lobbies make it seem that way. But their proponents know as much as the most radical queer motherfucker out there that the right to marry isn't about to solve the nation's health care crisis, combat institutionalized racism, end bullying, or provide housing for countless homeless queer youths. But I also don't believe their personal desire to enter into that institution sets anyone back; far from it, it is our short-sightedness on the issue that holds us back, not granting the right to those who wish to access it.

It's easy to look at this whole thing and write it off as some big movement to make every queer person look like a gay June Cleaver. The "assimilationist model" is indeed problematic, however, that you are so willing to dismiss a push for the right to marry as "totally assimilationist" is divisive and hurtful as well.

Is it possible that, for many same-sex couples living without radical separatist bubbles to call their own, a societal affirmation of their relationship will help make living their lives a little bit easier?

Press on for radical, ground-breaking change, YES. We should do that ceaselessly and without apology. You may say marriage is an oppressive institution fraught with conservative ideology, and I may partially agree with you, but still... what's really the harm in granting others the right to marry if they so choose?

Being an Ally, Step One: Shut Up and Listen

A number of months ago, I became aware of Trevor MacDonald, a trans* man and father who is now best known for his rejected application to become a La Leche League leader following the tremendous support he received from his local LLL chapter. His blog Milk Junkies covers more than the struggle with LLL Canada, chronicling his experiences being pregnant with and giving birth to his son, chestfeeding, and his family life in general. He started a Facebook group (closed for the sake of privacy, but welcoming to all queer parents and allies) that has become a beacon for queer and gender non-conforming parents of all stripes to gather, exchange information, support one another, vent, etc.

Trevor's situation has driven a depressing wedge in the feminist birth worker blogosphere. Navelgazing Midwife, whose blog I used to frequent, laments, "can’t there be a place where mothers are permitted to just be mothers?" (Sound familiar?) Other "feminist" bloggers have come out in support of LLLC's decision, echoing the same tired arguments we hear in regards to trans* women "invading" woman-only spaces, and of course, adding insult to injury by proposing a "separate" space for trans* and gender non-conforming parents.

Granted there are countless feminist birth workers (and birth workers in general, feminists in general, etc) who have taken this opportunity to look sharply at their own perceptions of gender and parenthood; they have joined in the cry for LLLI to reconsider their moms-only policy. The leaders of Trevor's local LLL group, for example, were the ones who encouraged him to pursue leadership in the first place.

But I digress.

I contacted Trevor right after I learned about his situation, offering my support and echoing his many praises of Dr. Jack Newman (breastfeeding guru who has been instrumental in Trevor's ability to produce milk for his baby). I introduced myself as newly certified IBCLC, and he responded asking if I might join his Facebook group to provide expert advice on clinical lactation issues.

You must understand that when I say newly certified, I mean newly certified. That a well-known figure in queer parenting circles would want my expert advice on anything was far beyond flattering. So I accepted, immediately perusing the board to see where my "expert advice" might be best tossed around.

Six months later, my credential has yet to provide me with any knowledge that would best be offered by someone with, say, actual experience being a chestfeeding parent.

Sure, I've offered some advice from a run-of-the-mill lactation consultant's perspective, digging into my arsenal of research on galactagogues and other ways to overcome suppressed supply for a variety of reasons. But I think it's safe to say that I've done far more learning than teaching in this group. When a trans* woman messaged me privately to ask if she would be able to produce milk for the baby her partner was about to give birth to, I found myself only able to offer information on initiated lactation in general, the same information I pass along to DFAB mamas hoping to provide milk for an adopted baby. After encouraging her to post her inquiry on Trevor's board, she received some amazing information and support from another mama who had been in her exact situation. Not an IBCLC, not a health care provider, just someone who had been there and knew what was up.

It's hard for me to keep my mouth shut, especially on topics like birth, lactation, and other things I'm passionate about. But to be an ally to trans* and gender non-conforming parents, a topic with which I have no personal experience whatsoever, what can I do but listen? Sure, it's nice being the best-trained person in the room, the person that holds an expert credential recognized the world over. But compared to these parents who have been through these unique challenges themselves, I might as well know nothing. Especially given that my extensive training offered no information on trans* health issues in the first place.

Such is the reality of being an ally. Too many people toss around this term, believing it to be a label you obtain by simply proclaiming yourself a supporter. But without a constant re-examining of your internalized biases, a willingness to admit you don't know everything, and a humble attitude about your intersecting privileges, being an ally doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot. In other words, being an ally is less of a label and more of an ongoing process.

I'm hardly trying to paint myself as the "more-badass-ally-than-thou" here, as I struggle with being told I don't know everything as much as the next "expert." But that's really the first step, one that even us uber-passionate loudmouths need to focus on. Shut up. Resist that urge to interject something you read in a book once. Wait. Listen. Validate. Then answer, probably with another question. Also: don't do it to garner thank yous and praise (because you probably won't get much). Do it because it's the right thing to do.

That moment when you learn your client's doc is a flaming antichoicer...

I have a client due in a couple of months who is under the care of an obstetrician I've yet to meet. I asked the mama-to-be a few simple questions about his philosophy, how she's felt about her care thus far, etc. But of course I like to do my own research so I know what to expect when the day arrives.

So I found the Facebook page of this doctor's medical practice. The first thing I noticed was that it's affiliated with a large, multi-state health care network that runs a few hospitals and many physician-led practices. But then I noted a prevalence of anti-abortion, anti-contraception, and even anti-LGBTIQ links. (Because having a position on gay marriage so relates to the process of pregnancy and childbirth.) Overall, I'm thinking at this point that this is highly unprofessional. Divisive social issues have no place on the professional page of a medical practice.

The furthest I go on my doula business' page is promote myself as someone who is inclusive regardless of family structure, is experienced in supporting families through all kinds of loss, and believes that quality health care is a human right. These are the least divisive ways I can think to pen it. But it translates broadly without me taking a clear and divisive position on the issues: an LGBTIQ person or a family with a non-traditional structure will know that I will respect them and want to work with them. A person who's choosing to terminate as well as a person who will experience unintended loss will know I can support them as well. There is such a thing as marketing yourself towards certain types of people without taking divisive hard-line positions on things.

And I think I'm pretty good at it. I've had doula clients tell me straight up that they are personally against abortion. Since they were planning a birth, it wasn't an issue, even when they knew I had a different view. And we worked well together with compassion and respect. I don't hide the fact that I'm pro-choice and inclusive of all individuals and family structures; my philosophy has always been that if my sociopolitical beliefs are going to turn you off from me, there's probably also some personality traits that will make me a bad fit, and I am not the right doula for you. But that doesn't mean I flaunt my beliefs to countless families that might be looking for someone to support them through the birth of their child, especially when it's completely irrelevant to their situation.

Let me say this: he's open about it, and I respect that. And honestly, he's free to run his practice in whatever way he pleases. But the affiliation with one of our state's largest, secular health care networks... that is what's getting to me.

That and the privilege. OH THE PRIVILEGE. That someone can publicize their views on the most divisive social issues all over their business page and not have to worry about it hurting their business is the definition of privilege. Like the small businesses - landscaping, towing, etc - that have Jesus fish on their logos. Can you imagine what would happen if a business put the Muslim star and crescent on their marketing materials? Forget losing customers, in some areas their business would be viciously attacked, verbally or worse.

Whatever. He'll be the guy at the foot of the bed, catching my client's baby. He's a supporter of natural childbirth, and hell, he's the one that pushed her to consider a doula in the first place. I can get past his publicly-stated conservative views so long as he treats her with respect and honors her wishes. I'm not there for him, I'm there for her.

Making the Cut: Our Hypocritical Stance on Non-Consensual Genital Modification

You know, a lot of people are going on about how the recent ban on circumcision by a German court violates religious freedom, and to be sure, some courts in the US have been unable to uphold such a ruling on those grounds.

Let me be clear... I support religious practices that don't overtly harm people.  Okay, you might say, where do you draw that line?

Here in the U.S., we obviously don't draw it at the mutilation of a child's genitals.  But we do have express bans on other forms of violence sanctioned by religious texts, such as the stoning of women who have sex out of wedlock [Deuteronomy 22].  In fact, we in the U.S. rail against such literal interpretations of religious texts as practiced in countries under a fundamentalist version of sharia (and we use this as justification for the occupation and destruction of those countries... just sayin'). And we have no problem speaking out against the mutilation of female genitalia in Africa, even though that practice is congruent with religious tradition as well.  Are we so hypocritical in our disdain for religion-induced violence that we only accept the kind practiced by people who live in our neighborhoods and look like us?

Unfortunately the religious freedom card continues to dominate the conversation about circumcision in particular.  But what about the discussion of sexual freedom?  We need to be talking about how the mutilation of child's genitals is a huge sexual rights issue.  When it comes to female genital mutilation, the implications are obvious: no clitoris, no sexual pleasure.  What we don't always realize is that the removal of the male foreskin removes a wealth of nerve endings as well, scarring the penis and removing a lot of sensation.  Obviously the organ can still function enough to perform its "biological task," but what about the quality of that child's future sexual life?

The other socially accepted form of genital mutilation not discussed nearly enough is the mutilation (sometimes called "modification") of organs that are considered "ambiguous" at birth.  Seeing how we all have differently-sized-and-shaped genitalia, I find it ethically repugnant that a parent might opt to have their baby's organs cut to look "more normal" without the child's consent.  Still, I'm sure any parent who's had their child's genitals "modified" for this reason would tell you they thought it was for the best.  After all, we live in a world where only two variations of sex organs are considered acceptable, and parents don't want their kids growing up in a world that might persecute them on the basis of something that can be cut away.  It's amazing, really, that our society is so homophobic and transphobic that parents would rather have their children endure major reconstructive surgery than just leave it be.

By now I've probably offended dozens, and really that's okay.  The non-consensual modification of a person's genitalia is a topic many are passionate about, and many of us have strong opinions one way or another.  But the conversation, so often about either "religious freedom" or "normalizing the child for her/his own sake", misses too many points to not be taken to task.  We can't discuss the above without also taking into account the child's future as a sexual being in charge of her/his own body, and we need to start thinking about the inherent problems with putting things like religious tradition before sexual autonomy.

So this gay marriage thing...

So I was going to write this long, drawn-out piece on the limitations of confining the entire LGBTQ liberation movement into "same-sex marriage."  I was going to go off about Obama's "convenient" announcement yesterday that he now supports same-sex marriage.  And to stave off accusations of total negativity, I was also going to tie in the silver lining: that NC's Amendment 1 has ignited a movement that is focusing on issues far  broader than "marriage equality," that its passage has turned normal, everyday people from pro-equality voters to activists for complete uncompromising social justice. 

But then I read this piece at Black Girl Dangerous and realized Mia McKenzie says it better than I could ever hope to...

Obama Loves Queers! (Except Not)

Fort Worth City Councilman Joel Burns shares his story

Bullying Takes Another Life

Tyler Clementi was a Rutgers University first year who friends describe as "a terrific musician, and a very promising, hardworking young man."  But last week, he left a note on his Facebook page: "Jumping off the gw bridge sorry."

What happened to turn this promising, talented violinist into a suicide statistic?  The answer may not surprise you.

Shortly before his death, Clementi asked his dorm roommate for privacy.  His roommate, Dharun Ravi, consented, but covertly turned on his webcam before leaving.  He later tweeted: "Roommate asked for the room till midnight. I went into molly's room and turned on my webcam. I saw him making out with a dude. Yay."  Two days later, he followed up, "Anyone with iChat, I dare you to video chat me between the hours of 9:30 and 12. Yes it's happening again."  Ravi went on to broadcast the live stream on the internet. 

Dharun Ravi and Molly Wei, both 18, have been charged with two counts each of invasion of privacy.  Ravi has also been charged with two more counts of invasion of privacy for taping the second encounter.  It is a fourth-degree crime to collect sexual images without consent, and transmitting them is a third-degree crime that could lead to a five year prison sentence.

The whole story makes me sick to my stomach.  I can't even begin to imagine the shame, the feelings of over-exposure, that drove Clementi to feel like suicide was his only option.  Being videoed in a more socially-acceptible, man-woman encounter would be bad enough, but having your sexuality exposed, being literally dragged out of the closet to hundreds of perfect strangers, is enough to make anyone feel as though there's no good way out.  It is a stark reminder of how prevalent bullying is and how dire the consequences can be.

My heart goes out to the friends and family of this young man whose life was taken far too soon by a society that saw his personal life as a side-show prank, an entity to be hunted and exposed, instead of a human being deserving of privacy, respect, and love.