a long time…

Looking back at the posts on this long-dormant blog, I am confronted with a few courses of action:

1: recount the very many things that have happened in the near year since I’ve posted, and dwell on the ways that my understanding of my identity and politics as a poly-kiny-queer has shifted and substantially evolved in that time.

2: begin a scene report of my new town, San Francisco. Though, having just moved here from a brief stint in NYC, I’m not sure I’m quite qualified to do so yet! A girl can try though.

3: pick up on even a few of the many threads I’ve left lying around in previous posts.

4: take requests from anyone who may still poke around on this nascent blog, and spout hot air and theory every spare chance I get.

6: let this blog die the slow quiet death it has been left to since I last had a breath to look at it.

I’m looking to you folks. If you’d like to hear anything else out of this old girl, let me know! I promise to improve the readability and links, make something of a cross-border SF-TO project out of this, come up with interesting and witty posts, and I won’t forget my promise to make it all a little sexier… Would a post on a sex-work experience interest anyone?

“‘I’m interested in being in love and I’m interested in being single.’”

an odd, thought provoking article 

Toronto Sex Forum

its about time, no?

Toronto Sex Forum

Anonymity

 

Shit. Has it really been over a month since I blathered on in a post? My deepest apologies, both to anyone who actually reads this, and to myself, as I would have much rather been writing on here than in final term papers.

Which brings me to a new era in this young blog’s life, one in which I hope things will get a little less academic and a little more interesting, personal, and most importantly, more sexy. This started as a way for me to save my sanity by creatively circumventing the traditional essay format, and use my academic time to think and talk about something that really interested me: sex, relationships, culture, politics. I now figuratively stand at a crossroads, both in my actual life and in the sexy sphere of this blog… and it all, of course, makes me think about identity, again.

Anonymity: I had thought I would ‘come out’ as a sexuality blogger once my professor’s fears (and liability) for my personal safety were put to rest at the end of the course. But as I start to formulate a professional career, I am confronted with the reality of having to consider and guard reputation (especially as a young female) … and having to deal with exactly that line that frustrates me most: private and public. Without going into the problematics (ha!) of that division from a feminist view, it rubs me the wrong way with sexuality activism in particular. Greying lines like this one is exactly why I started this blog. So, I’m particularly frustrated with having to consider the question now. My natural inclination towards an idealist, ‘to hell with everyone else, this is who I am’ response to this dilemma is checked by an unfortunate cultural reality: professions do not tolerate certain extracurricular interests. Shitty. Guess I’ll have to keep my sexuality private, and a less political.

I’m not trying to whine about my situation, in fact, I think instead I’m pointing to a couple things: one, I’m exploring how I choose who, and who I do not, talk about this part of myself with. Two, I’m wondering how, as a culture, we can make strides toward general acceptance of kink/poly/gender bending. I started to think about this as I noticed that the note-worthy blogs/websites on fluid sexuality are almost exclusively run by people who are out sex educators, writers, activists, etc. Are there many non-professional people like me (besides on forums)? I haven’t found them present online, though they most certainly exist in reality! Hmmm….

So, there must be many people faced with the dilemma of how to integrate (or even be honest about!) their interests/sexuality into the many spheres of their life. And if all of us are limited in talking about it for fear of losing our reputations, and eventually our shirts, how does fluid sexuality (specifically more misunderstood practices such as kink/poly) become less taboo. Where is the political progress?

Okay, without making this rant any longer than it has to be, I will say that for now this blog will remain softly anonymous. I may pout about, or I may rebel eventually.. but I will keep posting events, reviews, thoughts, etc… and encourage people to comment on anything and everything I put out here…

 

3rd Annual Feminist Porn Awards!

Tonight the awards!

Tomorrow the screening!

So much excitement!

I’m looking forward to sitting in the theatre tomorrow, cheering on-screen orgasms in unison with 300 other people!

For more info on the events, and why ‘feminist porn’, check out Good For Her’s website. Even the globe and mail picked up on this…

If you’re reading this, you should be there! 

 

PS: i promise to get back with some more theory-ish thing soon… i have a couple ideas for upcoming posts: one a collaborative effort on in/visibility, and one featuring a local photographer… 

Sex in the Woods

Now, this? this is fundraising idea i can get behind. or on top of. or under, or …

 

F*ck for Forests 

 

Plotting Dots on A Fluid Identity

 

Ever have those moments where something clicks, and you realize something that had been there all along, manifesting itself in small ways in your life, intruding on moments that should be just like any other, but are suddenly not at all. For me, its recently been ‘aha!’ moments with kink, queer, and poly. I suddenly recall an experience, an emotion, or behaviour and see it clearly through the (relatively recent) prisms of theory and an identity I’ve more assertively claimed lately. These moments always make me laugh hysterically, mostly in gleeful relief, but also at a person who is so hilariously and almost naively looking back at themselves.

You might be wondering what this photo is doing heading this post… I took it last summer, once I caught my breath from laughing. It was (and still is, I’m sure) on the side of a hotdog stand in downtown Toronto. I still chuckle every time I look at it… but most people who know me as a feminist would probably expect me to react with a vocal disgusted tirade about patriarchal power notions permeating society, blah, blah, blah (not to belittle this response; it’s a valid one). But for some reason, this image strikes a humourous chord with the same part of me that can play in the ‘theatre of SM’ while still maintaining feminist values.

This is the question that brought me to theory in the first place… I was excited to have found terminology and communities for the way I had always felt (and felt crazy for feeling, most of the time). But each took a different path toward integrating in my identity: queer and poly I could easily come to terms with… but kink? That took a little more thought. In fact, it didn’t really click until I read “Race, Cross-Dressing and the Cult of Domesticity” in Anne McClintock’s Imperial Leather, and in particular, this passage: “S/M as Foucault puts it, ‘constitutes one of the greatest conversions of Western imagination: unreason transformed into delirium of the heart’. S/M is a ‘theatre of transformation; it plays the world backward’” (McClintock 1995: 143), converting instruments of power into those of pleasure. If BDSM is the ‘eroticization of power role-play’ through theatrical organization of social risk, and a reorganization of powers (where all parties find it empowering), then it makes complete sense why I would be attracted to that aspect of it (amoung others) as a feminist. So, without going off on a longer tangent on this (which I’d like to return to later, anyway), the basic point is that theory has been integral to my understanding. This is a part of the identity process that has worked particularly well for me, but may not work for everyone.

So why are these realizations and evolution of identity important, both on a personal level, and as part of the movement? For me, it’s been revelatory, but also full of tensions- how closeted and in what way, how political do I make this, how publically ‘off the cliff’ am I willing to fall? The ‘personal is political’, at least, it always has been with me (from vegetarianism to peace activism, etc). And so I’m not shocked that I have this urge to be political about sex, to take this identity and be proud of it, as it’s a fairly predictable part of my personality. Hence, part of the impetus for this blog. But, do other people do this? Is this one of the major forces behind the movement?

As it impacts the individual members of the moment, identity acts to bring people into the movement, especially through online discussion on various aspects of these rapidly evolving communities (the plethora of online forums and blogs on kink, poly, queer, and LGBT bear testament to this!). Identifying as part of a larger community and being networked with like-minded individuals also facilitates organization and motivates mobilization. As discussed previously, identity politics have been an important tactic, just as rights discourses have been. Which causes me to wonder if these two are so easily separable… don’t we identify as belonging to a loose category (poly, kinky, queer, pomosexual, whatever… part of the appeal of the label ‘fluid’ is exactly the plastic boundaries of it) so that we can act collectively to secure certain rights?

And as our identity as ‘those transgressive weirdos’ is often formed by us by mainstream society, as well as in many other ways the previous post covered, then can the movement ever move out of using either rights or identity as major frames? We social humans will almost certainly continue to use commonalities to form groups… this just happens to be a group that embraces multiplicity, a group of common differences. So, the struggle now remains the construction of a publically intelligible sexually diverse identity, or a publically literate argument against conformity. I think it can be done, but must be a shift in cultural thinking, and not an assimilationist tactic… it is a challenge to the underlying social order. An important place to start may be within academia itself, as Mehre Khan pointed out– we should start by more adequately incorporating sexuality and gender analysis… but when we do start, what definition of sexuality will we use? So, the challenges the fluid sexuality movement raises to hierarchy, categorization and oppression, are concerns common to the many disciplines that aim to de/reconstruct. Sex isn’t so separate after all, no? And a conception of fluid sexuality becomes absolutely central to anyone aiming to shift the cultural order.

I’m very tempted to use an astronomy metaphor here (where endless constellations could be created by breaking institutional constellations and reconfiguring the points of light based on your creativity and the way you’re looking at it at the moment)… but it’s hard for me to keep to a straight face. It certainly fits for me, and seems to fit for the movement… I’m interested to see how theory, activisms, and individual lived experiences evolve in the movement, the alliances and networks that form, and cross-overs into mainstream culture. And I’ll continue to laugh when I have moments where I realize I’ve been this way all along, and can appreciate the multiple meanings of it. 

‘Labour of Love’

Speaking of the importance of rights and non-discrimination…and of perseverance.

‘Labor of Love’ – Is Society Ready for This Pregnant Husband?

 

The Way We Are Now: Fluid Sexuality as a Social Movement (part 2)

What does the ‘fluid sexuality’ movement look like? How is it organized, what tactics does it use, how does it frame issues, what future directions or alliances is it pursuing? I’m not going to touch on too much history here, except to note that the movement (as I’ve defined it) rests on the movement foundations of the GBLT movement (and it’s successes, particularly in the areas of creating cultural communities and resources, and political gains such as in AIDS and legal recognition of same sex partnerships), as well as the sexual revolution and links to other new social movements of the 60s and 70s (see previous post) A small warning and apology here for the long, academic-y post ahead…

Though kink, BDSM and polyamory have long history, each area only gained a more cohesive identity and political face since the late 1990s, in large part due to increased internet access. The queer movement is much more established, and together, these additions to more long-standing LGBT movements constitute the broader agenda of sexual diversity the fluid sexuality movement seeks to forward, harkening back to the“key objective of lesbian and gay liberation is to make possible greater sexual freedom, a more fluid sexuality for everyone” (Warner 2002: 263).

The rich culture, resources and communities of LGBT is drawn on by this newer movement, as many of its constituents and concerns overlap. But the fluid sexuality movement is not as cohesive in the same way, because it does not draw so heavily on identity politics (as the LGBT movement has traditionally done). Instead, the emphasis on multiplicity and plurality of lifestyles, sexual choices, gender identity, sexual practices, family and relationship constellations leads to the abandonment of the presentation of a particular identity. Instead, common political goals are shared, and these often rest on a human rights framing- the right to sexual freedom of expression, and the duty of the state to recognize and provide for a diverse citizenry (see Miller 1999). Yet there is an interesting tension here… human rights frames are often based on LGBT sexual identity categories and have strong support from the political centre of the movement, and so does not reflect the self-critique of identity on the fringes of the LGBT communities and the broader fluid sexuality movement, and presents the danger of “accepting that gender and sexuality are socially constructed and fluid would challenge the identity-politics model that has long been a foundation of human rights activism” (Mertus 2007: 1063). Optimistically, “fluid sexuality has become a potent political issue and sexual communities have become bases for political mobilization, affirming diverse identities” (Weeks 1985: 189), and so its possible we can navigate the challenges of identity politics and human rights. This approach is more representative of the more radical elements of the movement, which uses new rhetoric to press for new priorities in re-imagined political and social landscapes in which we can take pride in fluid identities. Campaigns for sexual rights may ultimately prove more successful than existing LGBT rights strategies, as they focus on the behaviors that are being punished, prohibited, or limited, rather than on sexual identity categories. This is appealing because categories may be contested, but behaviors are more clearly identifiable.

As the movement gains cohesiveness and the political agendas draw closer together, the movement potentially presents an agenda easier to attack. But I imagine it will remain difficult to challenge maintain a multi-faceted, cyber-networked movement with strong foundations across many communities (kink, poly, queer, LGBT). Counter-movements stem from the Church and the state, and mainly engage in defaming the movement on moral grounds, drawing of social fears of sexual difference (such as fears of degrading the ‘traditional family’ heard during same-sex debates). Thankfully, I have not noticed strong counter-movements in the area of fluid sexuality; instead it seems mostly to be a cultural paradigm shift, requiring reexamination of mainstream assumptions (such as in the areas of monogamy, gender identity, etc). So, struggles for legal recognition and equity in various rights (including familial, health care, employment equity, housing, marriage and civil unions, child rearing, etc), as well as protection from hate crimes and social discrimination continue through advocacy organizations, court cases, the establishment of sexuality studies programs, public actions and events, and individual actions.

I began to think about a ‘fluid sexuality’ movement because of the common grounds shared by the diverse groups and people in it; as a useful catch-all concept to capture those groups striving to broaden society’s notions around sexuality. Resistance to these movements is often based on squeemishness around sex and fear of difference. Our social history and habits of placing each person or act in a (usually) dichotomous category remains one of the main obstacles to truly accepting more fluid definitions of sexuality and gender (not to mention reconceptualizing and deconstructing ‘race’, class, colonial histories, etc). But back to the common grounds of this movement:

Andrea Zanin’s lecture ‘(Un)Common Ground: Intersections of Kink, Poly and Queer’, during the Fetish: Working Out the Kinks conference, vindicated the impetus for this blog, which hopes to illustrate many of these links. Zanin spoke of how polyamory, kink and queer movements share: identity (claiming identity as a political act, share sexual deviance/sexual minority identity), similar histories, successful organization and the building of alternative communities. She also noted that the movement’s identity and actions are also influenced by external perceptions of these “others uniting”. The mainstream builds many of the movement’s alliances, which Zanin usefully illustrated using the concept of ‘jumping off the cliff’ (which also resonates with my own identity construction and personal history… but more on that in an upcoming post). Basically, once you transgress in one area (ie: you come out as queer), it is much easier for you to come out as poly, kinky, lefty, or whatever, because you’ve already made that personal leap, society has already lumped you in with the rest of the transgressive weirdos, and often you’ll begin to look for people who think the same way (joining online discussion groups, reading the literature, theorizing about it on a blog, etc).

In addition, the movements have a long history of supporting one another; just some of these relationships include how queer has supported non-monogamy (bathhouses, lesbian communes, etc), queer supports kink (leather men and dykes), kink supports queer (resisting normative pleasure and power structures), kink supports poly (different avenues/relationships to fulfill different kinks), and how poly supports queer and kink (poly allows space for experimentation). All share a common characteristics of inclusion, creativity, commitment to the reconception of relationships parameters, sexuality and gender, the erotic, identity construction, and share histories of political activism (AIDS, same sex, self defense, cultural production, etc.), experiences of ‘coming out’ (more common in queer communities than in kink and poly, as of yet… see this post for some discussion), and an interest in keeping boundaries and ideas open and fluid. The movements also share narratives, community building tactics (response-based activism, creation of groups and support systems, accumulating knowledge, etc), and left wing tendencies (for example, “don’t bring roast beef to a poly gathering”). These natural alliances open opportunities for strategizing and working together. 

There tends to be a large cross-over in population as well, (when Andrea asked everyone in the lecture hall to raise their hands if they identified first as queer, then polyamorous, and finally as kinky, the majority identified as part of more than one category… unfortunately, mulling over why this is the case is beyond the scope of this post). Also an interesting idea that if and when you do fall off the cliff, you end up being an activist (in personal defense/discussion on a personal level, and many become politicized in order to agitate for broader societal acceptance—the eventual goal being that the mainstream will ‘live and let live’). The old feminist adage ‘the personal is political’ definitely applies here!

The celebratory note and feeling of uniting in resistance is strong, felt at events such as Queer Publics and the conference, but also at events like Abnormals Anonymous and the Erotics Arts Festival Blender where inevitably someone will take the mic and give a rousing, rallying solidarity speech that generally sounds like: ‘we’re here, we’re queer, we’re damn proud of it, and it’s our right to have sexual freedom!’. Certainly, harnessing erotic energy garners attention, enlivens activism, and keeps activists motivated and engaged.

As for general fluid sexuality movement cohesion, I’m of the opinion that the LGBT, kink, BDSM, and polyamory movements are closely aligned and political (though Highleyman may disagree, 2002:112). I do think an important future direction will be aligning with the social justice movement, as “sexual, economic and social liberation must go hand in hand” (Ibid: 120), and as queer voices find expression in all movements. This has especially been the case of the ‘convergence movement’ of anti-neoliberal globalization activists. Radical queer factions are some of the most vocal groups with queer concerns making inroads and alliances (ie: with socialists, anarchists, and heterosexual activists that challenge hierarchy) within the social justice movement.

Overall, I’m happily surprised to have found common ground and rapidly evolving alliances across a fluid sexuality movement… and I can’t resist including a long quote:

“…the historicity and fluidity of sexual desire, the performative nature of gender, and the complex multiplicity of attractions, fantasies, impulses, and narratives that lie within us all… to understand how and why sexual and gender identities get socially constructed is to open up a new way of talking about politics, about how relations of power get established, (and) about the role the state in reinforcing and policing that set of relations in maintaining the stakes of the already priviledged.” (Duberman 1999, as quoted in Highleyman 2002: 119).

some-resources.pdf 

Coming Full Circle: The History and Origins of Fluid Sexuality as a Movement (part 1)

I’m going to attempt to give a short overview of the history of the movement (by no means meant to be exhaustive, but aware of the situational biases of this blog, and reflective of the broader movement’s Western-centric tendencies… I hope I can explore non-Western activisms in the future). The previous post gives a little of the background and networks that underlay the contemporary fluid sexuality movement, most notably the sexual revolution and LGBT movements that mobilized in the late 1960s. Both of these extensively and effectively used rights discourses to develop political consciouness, also popular with the feminist and civil rights movements at the time. Activists, organizational resources, and knowledge flowed amoung the movements. Initially, an assimilationist approach was used, as networks and organizations formed around the growing gay subculture, as public perceptions on homosexuality shifted (the release of Kinsey’s studies), and laws concerning rights to consensual sex appeared in the 1950s and 60s. Litigation was used, and was successful in creating new legal opportunities through the passage of the 1982 Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms (see Section 15).

A liberation discourse was also popular, and “gay liberationists did not conceive of themselves as a minority group seeking civil rights; rather, they were challenging conventional notions of sexuality… homosexuality was seen as ‘a natural and normal alternative sexuality that must be liberated from oppression imposed by the church, state, and medical institutions, rigid gender-role socialization, and the supremacy of the nuclear family” (Staggenborg 2007: 90). Initially there were strong ties to the New Left networks (and replication of radical political tactics such as demonstrations, dissemination of literature, legal and institutional battles) and a common goal of social revolution that included ‘free love’. But the need to present a cohesive identity for political reasons, as well as fractures in the movement (especially along gender lines) led to a weakening of the movement. Nevertheless, the movement was highly successful in creating communities, services, resources, cultural and political organizations, and for securing non-discriminatory practices in housing, employment and government services. All of these tend to concentrate at local levels and depend on context, and so successes vary widely from place to place depending on political institutions, available resources, political opportunities, and cultural support.

The importance of legislative change is over-emphasized in the literature. Yet without the supportive political climate resulting from cultural shifts secured through public consciousness-raising activism, these victories could never have occurred. These include other major moments in the movement, such as the galvanizing effect of the AIDS crisis in the 80s and 90s, and same-sex union victories (2005 in Canada). Confrontational tactics were often used, including the actions of ACT UP and Queer Nation. These organizations in particular led to a challenge of “the idea of a fixed sexual identity and the assimilationist approach of trying to ‘fit in’ to mainstream society” (Staggenborg 2007: 97). The formation of a ‘queer’ identity and the addition of bisexuality and trans politics to the agenda resulted. These movements began to work in coalitions on many issues, including anti-war, feminist, anti-racism, peace, etc., as Highleyman (2002) also notes. The rise of the internet and cyber activism has and continues to play a central role in this new convergence of movements, by building awareness of common underlying causes and a return to envisioning a social revolution that includes sexual liberation.

And so we come to the current state of affairs… shall we then?