Yet Another Queerness Rant

Aaaaaah, I have so much to say and I want to say it all, but I have to sleep, but I really wanted to write my thoughts now, because whenever I put this sort of stuff off it always ends up being worse for it by the time I do end up writing it, if indeed that ever happens, so here I go.

Okay, so I’ve been thinking a lot about my sexual/romantic orientation for a while, now- pretty much since the beginning of this school year, and, for whatever reason, it wasn’t until recently that I really understood that one’s sexual orientation and romantic orientation don’t have to be one in the same. Subsequently, earlier on in the year I felt like there *had* to be a better word for my sexuality than pansexual, since I was tacking on my romantic orientation, and treating them like one big stew I was trying to find a name for, but since I now realize romantic and sexual orientation are two separate things, I feel a whole lot less uncomfortable with the term pansexual, since that definitely is the best term to describe my sexuality.

My romantic orientation, on the other hand, is a bit of a quandary, and that’s why I’m writing this blog post. I’ve been pondering upon what romance means to me, ever since I accidentally came out to my Grandma; she was comparatively respectful, very sweet and, best of all, in my opinion, extremely curious about my experience as a queer person, and with that came a multitude of questions about my feelings about romance.

She and my mum both seem entirely set on me settling down at some point, having a longterm stable partner, whom I must marry, and a multitude of children, preferably biologically. Their aspirations for my life do not align with my own, and although I’ve mentioned that to the both of them, putting it into the terms of me being a “career girl”, latching onto the stereotypical imagery of a confident passionate woman, briskly and confidently striding through the bustling city with a heart teeming with motivation. That sort of thing appeals to me, though I know that’s perhaps as unrealistically picture perfect as the perfect nuclear family boxed within a white picket fence and suburban neighborhood. Nevertheless, my mum and grandma both seem set on wanting what they want for me. My mum keeps giddily reminding me that most people meet their spouses in college, or at least when they’re college-aged, and seems to be keeping her fingers crossed for me. She also, after we saw ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ told me she prays I meet my soulmate someday, which resulted in me having a knee-jerk squicky reaction to, since, to me, ‘The Origin of Love’ as an expectation for romantic love is inherently unattainable, and in my interpretation, the show itself proves that.

Going directly off that, there’s a quote by John Cameron Mitchell that I adore (there are actually *many*, but this one is relevant) about ’The Origin of Love’ which goes like this, “It’s like the yearning is more important than the possibility.” I bring this up, not only because I can reference Hedwig/quote John Cameron Mitchell, but because that is actually a good way to describe how I personally feel about romance.

I found out about the word lithromantic from a friend of mine who critiqued my Hedwig Admission Essay; she told me she feels the same way about Hedwig as I do, because Hedwig and the Angry Inch is what gave her strength/courage to better understand her queerness recognize herself as being asexual and lithromantic. When she told me about her experience, this was the first I had ever heard about lithromanticism, so I went on to look up the term.

Lithromantic is defined by the Aromantics Wiki as “An orientation in which one can feel a romantic attraction towards others and also enjoy romantic relationships in theory, but not needing that affection to be reciprocated or be in a relationship with the one the feelings are directed towards. Either that, or they may stop feeling the attraction once in a relationship or stop enjoying it.” which goes right back to the John Cameron Mitchell quote, “It’s like the yearning is more important than the possibility.”

So for me, I feel like I might be Lithromantic, though I’m still questioning. In every romantic relationship I’ve had thus far, I’ve felt so much more comfortable with the prospect of the relationship than the relationship itself. Other definitions of the word mention that a lithromantic person may feel drastically uncomfortable when greeted with romantic gestures, and it’s strange, since although I’m a drastically sappy person who gets all mushy and excited over fictional OTPs and real life cute couples, in my past relationships whenever my partners would do things seen as stereotypically charming romantic gestures, it always felt to me like they were being sycophantic and insincere, and just made me feel entirely uncomfortable.

So by that account, one might think I’m unmistakably lithromantic given the definition, but the muddle I find myself in is that, since my range of romantic experience is limited to relationships with cisgender males (both of who, looking back on it, I don’t think of as particularly admirable people) it makes me wonder if, perhaps my adamant aversion is due to the past experiences being no good. And from that, too, comes the quandary that, in regards to thinking about romantic relationships in theory, the ones that seem nice for me in my imagination, are relationships with people other than cis males.

I co-wrote a play for my theatre class last semester in which my character had a monologue about feeling preemptively defensive towards white cisgender males due to the victims and body-counts that result from their collective privilege, and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t written semi-autobiographically. Because of that, I have this instinctual feeling that a romantic relationship with a cis male would be far more dangerous for me, both physically and emotionally, than it would be with a person of another gender. And I know that’s likely an erroneous assumption, but I like to trust my gut about these sorts of things. So that, I suppose, narrows down my potential lithromanticism(?) to people who aren’t cis males.

Though, the question arises, since I’ve never been in a romantic relationship with anyone other than cis males, would I feel more comfortable with a romantic relationship in practice if it were with a person of some other gender? I don’t know, but it definitely feels more comfortable for me in theory.

And this leaves me with yet another unanswered question- so if lithromantics are generally put off by romance in practice when they’re involved, then why is it that I feel so comfortable with commitment-free romantic things, because I definitely do. I write tons of *love* poems to people I adore but know would never in a million years want to date me (and it’s not a matter of “out of my league” or whatever, more of a matter of incompatible orientations, or the fact that the people are: A. fictional, B. dead, C. unaware of my existence), and for me, a lot of the happiness I get from writing these poems is knowing I don’t have to worry about the people I’ve written them for expecting a relationship from me, nor would I ever expect (or necessarily hope for) a relationship with them, I just like having crushes of sorts to write poems about. I also have definitely done intentionally romantic sorts of things with people with whom I have an understanding that nothing real will come of it.

Because, for me, relationships seem like more hassle than they’re worth, albeit based on my limited past experience. It’s just like, “Pssh- I don’t want to put effort into that- why would I want to fuss with domesticity and having to deal with someone else’s expectations and demands of me?”

But then I get little bursts of “Oh, but wouldn’t it be cool if I did have kids someday and someone to help me raise them, I mean, Neil Patrick Harris is super cute with his family, and he seems like one of the most ambitious people I know of- having a family didn’t keep him from doing Hedwig, and that’s one of the most demanding roles there is- yet he goes home and orchestrates cute collaborative halloween costumes, and continues on fathering and husbanding marvelously- look at him, having it all- what if that were a possibility? Maybe? I don’t know…”

I don’t know. All I know is that I’m listening to ‘Company’, since it seems apropos, and still trying to figure out: Am I lithromantic?

Hedwig Essay

I don’t hesitate to tell people that ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ saved my life. At the stage door of the Belasco theater, I yelled out to Lena Hall and Andrew Rannells, “This show means the world to me!” and “Hedwig saved my life!” amidst the sea of selfies, HedHeads, and autographs. It isn’t difficult for me to make my absolute adoration of this show known, and yet the reasons why it means so much to me aren’t exactly simple to describe, particularly in under five-hundred words.

When recently prompted to explain why I chose to leave Columbia College Chicago, I came up with the phrase, “priorities realized”, which is the best way that I’ve found to express what happened. I unfortunately had my first experience with outward and frequent homophobia directed towards me while attending Columbia College Chicago particularly ignorant beliefs such as: queerness being transmittable, bisexuality being a character flaw/myth, gender nonconforming individuals being unable to be well-adjusted people, and existing as an out queer person being inappropriate for children and “normal people”. Due to the way bigotry made itself known, I found myself realizing how lucky I had been in the past to find camaraderie in theatre and community in queerness. In my search to re-find that on my own in Chicago, I wound up instead discovering Hedwig, which became my substitute for real life acceptance.

Each night as I struggled to reconcile the prevalent anti-queer words and actions I was surrounded by, with my dreams of Columbia College Chicago being a welcoming artistic community, I listened to ‘Wicked Little Town’ from Hedwig. It’s a song about being stuck in the wrong place, surrounded by cruelty, and being able to feel yourself being assimilated, yet having something to cling to in order to survive; that song was my salvation.

The night before my nineteenth birthday, in my insomnia driven introspection, I began to realize I was reverting back to being the person I was before I valued my own voice (both proverbially and literally). Upon that realization, I did what I felt I had to do; I barricaded myself in the university center practice room and sang ‘Wicked Little Town’ with the voice I could feel relapsing. I sang with all the volume and wholeness I could muster from my verklempt vocal folds. I left Columbia College Chicago soon after.

I reassessed my priorities and discovered, through ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’, that theatre in all its life-saving glory made me teem with more passion than anything else I've aspired towards since graduating from Saint Paul Conservatory for Performing Artists. Because of this, ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ not only kept me going in times of extreme turmoil which I didn’t expect to survive, but also reminded me and reconfirmed that theatre is my calling.

Subsequently, I proudly proclaim to friends, family, strangers, Andrew, Lena, and you, dear reader, that ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ saved my life.

A Rant About My Bisexuality for Bisexuality Day/Week 2014

Alright, so I said I wanted to write about it being Bisexuality day and so that’s precisely what I’m doing. First off I identify as Bisexual, and I wish I had learned about this day earlier so I could represent myself with the Bi Flag colors or something, but as for right now I only have a disintegrated Bi Pride sticker on my phone and a bunch of rainbow paraphernalia.

Nevertheless, it isn’t about what I wear: I identify as Bisexual, Pansexual and Queer. I’ve heard people say they identify as Pansexual but not Bisexual, or Pansexual but not Queer, and many other similar things. I can only speak for myself, since it’s up to each person individually to decide what they want to classify themselves as or even if they want to classify themselves, but as for me, I identify within all three of those.

I’ve had a bit of a struggle since throughout my life I’ve been unsure whether I actually *count* as Bisexual, but I’ve come to realize how silly that is, nevertheless, I still have some internal conflict. It’s especially strange since I’m not even sure if I can count myself as out. I mean I have “pansexual” listed under the About section of my blog, and on my instagram and pinterest account and such, but aside from online, I don’t frequently *tell* people.

It’s weird since in Junior High I would get annoyed when people assumed I was a lesbian. At that point I had crushes on females, but also males, though being in a Catholic school where the most I knew about queerness came from representation which often weren’t the most accurate or respectful ways of portraying queer people.

Nevertheless, by the time I went into High School I thought of myself as Bisexual, until I was told by a former friend, who’s opinion I valued more than my own, at that time, told me I was faking it for attention and that I was just an ally. I unfortunately believed her, and kept my queerness somewhat hidden.

Then Sophomore year, I recall almost “coming out” to a teacher who did a Cabaret talking about his experience as a queer person. I related a lot with the emotions portrayed in his show, yet wound up getting too nervous to tell him, especially in the presence of my mother.

In Junior year I had an enormous crush on a non-binary individual, and since my perception of Bisexuality at that time (which, mind you, is a false one) was that it excluded attraction to non-binary people. Subsequently I began referring to myself as Pansexual. I also told a few close friends, mainly because I wanted to fangirl about how utterly adorable my crush at the time was.

Senior year, I identified as Pansexual/Queer, but never made a point to outwardly say anything to anyone, to the point where when I finally told the afore mentioned teacher about my sexuality, he seemed utterly shocked that I wasn’t straight. It seemed odd to me, since I certainly didn’t see myself as the poster child of heterosexuality/heteronormativity.

I then went to Columbia. The plot thickens since at this point, after performing in a show called ‘Queertopia’ it seemed as though (in spite of there being straight people in the show) I was as out as I’d likely ever be. I saw myself as queer and carried on in a manor that didn’t hide it. Because of this, I got my first taste of homophobia directed specifically at me- I suppose being called a Lesbian in Junior High *might* count, but considering that’s as far as it went, and I didn’t really know what my sexuality was, it didn’t necessarily hit all that hard. As for at Columbia, although a lot of the anti-queerness messages I got were in regards to gender nonconformity, there was certainly lots regarding sexuality as well.

I shan’t go into it too much, but what surprised me and caught me off guard was that so much of the vitriol was directed at Queer/Bisexual/Pansexual people more than Gay or Lesbian people. Granted, there was awfulness towards those people as well, but the majority of the homophobia towards me in particular was due to me being bisexual/pansexual/queer. My feelings of discomfort and offense were often invalidated when I pointed out homophobia, since people frequently responded with something to the effect of “none of the real gay people are upset by this, so you must be overthinking it”.

I also got into countless arguments when people said:
1. I’m not actually queer since I’ve never had a girlfriend.
2. Bi/Pan/Queer guys are actually 100% homosexual and are only trying to lessen the negative connotation by pretending to be “half straight”.
3. Bi/Pan/Queer girls are actually either straight girls who are too unattractive to find a boyfriend so they branch out, or are straight and just want to get the attention of a man.
4. Bi/Pan/Queer people are “slutty” or amidst a phase.

None of these are correct, yet nearly any time it was made known that I was queer, one, if not all of these misconceptions would often be brought up. And I’m not trying to rag on Columbia (I’ve done a fair deal of that already, anyways), but what I am saying is that in the near Utopia that was my high school, where I was surrounded by queer teachers and students, my sexuality was nearly never made a big deal by anyone who knew or thought they knew about it, subsequently I never really thought of it being a defining characteristic of my identity.

But now that I have had an experience where I was surrounded by a multitude of people who were very unfriendly towards queer people, my Queerness/Bisexuality/Pansexuality has become so much more of my personality. During that time of difficulty, I found queer characters in media I could cling to and relate to: Hedwig Robinson and Donnie DuPre, both of whom I relate to for reasons other than their queerness, yet both I believe fall under the Bisexuality umbrella. I’ve heard people argue that Hedwig only likes guys and Donnie only likes girls, and I don’t want to be argumentative, but I have strong feelings and “proof” (although I don’t like that word) to show that my perception of them as falling under the Bisexual umbrella isn’t a completely irrational interpretation of either of them.

Now a days I see myself as tremendously queer, and although as of recently I’ve been trying to figure out if I could find words to fit me better, considering, for instance, I don’t see myself as especially hetero-romantic, but who knows about the future. Sexuality and Gender (and tons of other things for that matter) are fluid, so what I feel like today might be entirely different than how I’ll feel in a month or two.

I still feel weird about the prospect of actually “coming out” to family members. Now a days I think all my closest friends know, and my new friends will likely find out soon enough- plus I’m apparently setting off people’s gay-dars nowadays, which is a really interesting development for me. But as I was saying, I’ve tried coming out to family before and the only people who’ve respected and acknowledged this aspect of my identity are my mother and my surrogate brother. I have the suspicion that my other family members kept the knowledge in their brain, but don’t want to accept or say anything about my queerness, either because they don’t want me to be anything but heterosexual, or because they don’t feel equipped with any knowledge of queerness. If it’s the latter, I’d be perfectly fine with helping them, of course!

It’s strange to me since I have been rejected by family in the past, and so, in a way, I’m a tad scared it will happen again- not just with queerness, but with any part of my identity that may be seen as too “rebellious”. I think that’s why I connect so strongly with the prospect of families of choice, since if your beloveds know of the parts of your identity you’re afraid to show your biological family, and love you, not only in spite of, but sometimes because of that aspect of your identity, it seems like a far more sincere form of love.

And it isn’t necessarily that I feel like if my family knew, or rather acknowledged, my queerness, they’d treat me badly, but I feel like having them know that about me sooner rather than later might help for if a circumstance were to arise where I found myself entirely in love with someone who isn’t a cis man. The teacher I aforementioned twice already recently posted about how much joy he found in dancing with his beloved boyfriend among his catholic family he was once worried about coming out to. I related lots to it, and although I have SUCH an easy life as a queer person compared to so many, it did certainly hit home for me.

One last thing, before I shut up and work on things I actually should be working on: I’ve been reading/listening to lots of interviews in which Alan Cumming (who is a marvelous person, from what I can tell) talks about his own bisexuality. From what I can tell, people seem to see his bisexuality as so much scarier, for lack of a better word, than Lady GaGa’s, for instance, and I think that’s because, as I said earlier while talking about fallacies: Queer guys are frequently seen as Gay and Queer girls are frequently seen as straight. As a queer girl, I don’t want to be seen as dangerous or scary, but it certainly upsets me that my queerness is seen as less legitimate than the average queer guy. I’m of course not begging for more homophobia, it’s just something I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention while writing about my bisexuality.

Gender, Hedwig, and More Lamentations

This is going to be one jam-packed blogpost, especially considering I’ve been to busy to blog much ever since I moved to Chicago. Though I did manage to write two short blogs about instances of homophobia here, and, sadly it just keeps becoming more and more prevalent.

I’ll do a simple copy-and-paste from a letter I sent to a friend to fill in the gaps of what’s happened since I last posted, regarding unfortunate homophobia and sexism (and racism and general meanness, though, at the moment I’m simply talking about the prior two…)

From my Acting Teacher:

1. She makes us play our own gender, and by own gender she means hetero-normative (straight and feminine for females and straight and masculine for males)

2. She claims gender-queer people don’t exist and believes in gender binary.

3. She cut a queer character out of the play we’re studying, which I’ve read before so I KNOW she cut the character out!

4. She’s called homosexuality perverted on more than one occasion.

5. She told what she thought was a charming story about firing a girl because she was fat.

6. She didn’t know a single name of a Native American tribe and thought I was stupid for being intrigued by Algonquin culture, because “it’s not real…”.

7. She makes fun of her students’ appearances.

8. When people have played queer people in the past she’s accused them of playing the opposite gender because “Men can’t have boyfriends that would just be inauthentic and clownish…”

9. She said people who are naked on stage are ALWAYS stupid whores and not real actors.

As for other students:

1. One white girl calls minorities “those people” and can’t tell dark-skinned people apart despite how different they might look.

2. One guy said Macklemore was a worthless human being because he’s an ally.

3. One girl freaks out when she’s partnered with me since she’s come to the conclusion that just because I’m pansexual I must want to have sex with her (which of course I don’t since she’s an awful person!)

4. When another girl asked me who one of my celebrity crushes were and I told her Amanda Palmer, she was noticeably grossed out and tried to get me to like the guy celebrities she did so I could be less disgusting…

5. One girl when she was partnered with me for a project where we had to plan a wedding together for the sake of a sociological experiment she freaked out said it was disgusting to imply that she was a lesbian and when I said I was she ran away from me to the other side of the room.

6. When I said later on during that experiment that I wanted my bridesmaids to be both bridesmaids and bridesmen, if I even was to get married, the class freaked out and said that was stupid and radical of me to do something so untraditional.

7. At the Halloween party I went to yesterday some guy called me disgraceful and slutty just because I showed my midriff.

Okay, so that should do it for background right now. As one could extrapolate, I’m having a rather difficult time with all this, especially since I had found such a magnificent community of openness and love back home in Minnesota, and was told it would be even better here.

Subsequently since I’m struggling a bit at the moment, I look for art to cling to. I found one major thing and two smaller things. I’ll speak of the smaller things first, since, they are both quotes from artists I admire that I portray precisely how I’m feeling.

"And I am tired of explaining

And of seeing so much hating

In the very same safe havens

Where I used to just see helping” - Amanda Palmer

This is how I feel about Acting and Art-School due to the recent happenings.

"It’s impossible to be in a minority and not realize that there are people out there who hate you but are perfectly nice in every other area in their life. A homophobe, misogynist, racist, whatever is not a cartoonish monster made of hate and bile. They’re a person. The fact that you think its a big fact that I might not have noticed is pretty insulting. Do not try to lecture me on homophobia, I deal with that shit daily. OSC being a lovely person in every other area of life means exactly shit to me because being a nice guy isn’t a get out of jail free card when you behave like a piece of shit." - Diamanda Hagan

Alright that one is a bit more of a stretch, but the fact that I know my teachers and classmates aren’t monsters or evil is such a strange thing to wrestle with, since when you see them being sweethearts to other people the fact that they can, so easily, spew vitriol becomes incomprehensible. And I do my best not to hate people, but it’s gotten to a point where I become literally sick and nauseous when my acting teacher speaks the things she does on a daily basis, and what with conditioning and all that, it’s hard not to hate something or someone that causes such an awful visceral reaction.

And I am all about visceral reactions; beautiful things have made me convulse and hurt and have a hard time breathing, but I always felt bettered by the experience. This is just unfulfilling sadness and hurt.

The big blooming vast thing I found to wrap myself up in is ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’, though I’m only going off of the soundtrack and Paw’s Review and various clips from YouTube, but still…

'Origin of Love' speaks to me on a spiritual level, as I think it's meant to, and the whole rest gives me a feel of camaraderie that I don't have with any human here, at least not yet.

I’m going to try talking gender now. I identify as a gender-fluid person, though I don’t think of myself as transgender. My passport and state ID and all that refers to me as female and I’m perfectly content with that label.

But here’s the thing: I identify lots with Hedwig due to the fact that I have PCOS and hence my hormones are all messed up in ways I don’t understand and I’m kind of middle-ground about. I tried treatment since my mum figured that would be what I wanted and what would make me happy, even though I was perfectly content with the way I was. I went on pills and estrogen and such, but the pills messed up my chemical stuff and made me sad, so I stopped taking them. And now, although I’m female technically and am basically CIS gendered, I have the hormonal makeup of someone in-between. I have masculine features, which I’m fine with, and have been “mistaken” for a guy, but I haven’t minded. In those ways I call myself gender fluid, though I’m comfortable with my feminine side.

SO back to my lamentations, when my acting teacher goes on her tirades about gender roles I feel like I’m the one she’s preaching against since I’m certainly not stereotypically feminine even when I do choose to wear dresses and lipstick. I am what I am and I’m cool with it, though it seems most people here are not…

But I’m going to stay here. I’m learning lots, and even though this vast issue of discrimination is causing me some adversity, it’s also making me much more conscious about these issues, which is a good thing. I’m also the type to push back, even if it’s merely in poetry and blogs, but because of my push-backedness I’m becoming more self-aware and sure of myself in the areas that are making me the minority here.

Anyways, although this may be a wicked massive town, I’m able to seek comfort with the art I’ve found and afore mentioned as well as my beloveds back home who love me, all of me, even the parts that I’m hated for here.

Rampant Homophobia in Acting Class

I’m making no bones about it; Columbia is lots more homophobic in general than I had hoped or expected it to be. I think it might be Chicago, as a whole, as well, but I’ve only been here for two-or-so months, so I wouldn’t be that hasty to generalize. But Columbia is definitely more homophobic than SPCPA, where I went to high school. They’re both art schools so I figured the level of acceptance would be somewhat similar. I, of course, was wrong.

I mentioned one instance before (here) but that was just the beginning. Despite that one girl’s closed-mindedness, the hotbed of homophobia seems to be my acting class.

The fact that the atmosphere of my acting class is so stifling completely breaks my heart. Acting and performing is how I met the queer people I know now, and how I became comfortable with my own queerness.

When I speak of queerness I don’t simply mean romantic love for the same sex, I also am referring to the simple fact that gender is not black and white. There is a spectrum between the terms “male” and “female” and I am happy to not have to conform to being the absolute definition of feminine. If I were to do that, I would be stifling my true self.

The thing that pushed me to the brink of venting right now is that my acting teacher announced that we weren’t aloud to play genders other than our own. Yes, it’s a basic acting class, but what she considers male is 100% what society considers masculine and female as 100% what society considers feminine. She says anything else “isn’t authentic”. Hence, if I were to get up on stage and act exactly as I do in real life, I “would not be an authentic female character”.

I am so peeved with this notion, I can barely even fathom my thoughts into intelligent sentences.

My teacher is nice, but the sort of nice that grandparents and older relatives are; they mean well, but have such old-world ideas that sometimes they accidentally say horrible, hurtful things without meaning it.

When male students go up onstage and play feminine men I think of how much the portrayal reminds me of my own beloved friends. The same goes for when female students play masculine females. Yet my teacher has the audacity to say, “No one acts like that in real life unless they are a clown!"

I’m having an actually really hard time with this. This class centered around performing leaves me feeling drained, whereas performing in my past experiences has always been a source of energy and rejuvenation.

I honestly don’t understand how my acting teacher has gotten as much work in the theatre as she claims to have. Everyone I’ve ever been lucky enough to work with has been either an ally or queer themselves. I don’t know how anyone as narrow-minded and ignorant could make a living in a profession/art so notoriously fueled by queer people.

Perhaps I’m just expecting too much of my current teacher since I’ve had such wonderful teachers in the past. Even so, I’m surprised that the student’s aren’t calling her out for it!

I haven’t been courageous enough to do so myself, but that’s partially because the students are even more judgmental.

In a scene where I tried to initiate the relationship of our characters being exes, my partner shouted in dismay, “BUT WE’RE GIRLS!?!?!” and another scene partner of mine, as we tried to determine our characters’s relationship screamed out, “PLEASE DON’T MAKE THIS A SEX SCENE!!!” …Calm down, I’m pansexual, not a nymphomaniac. The latter situation goes back to the “all queer people are inherently promiscuous” trope, which, of course, is not true.

I suppose this is just my late introduction to “the real world” but in the context of performing arts, and the arts in general, it seems like no place whatsoever for such egregious homophobia. No where should be a place of egregious homophobia, but this just catches me off guard.

If this is how the acting teachers are at Columbia, then it’s a Godsend that I decided to switch my minor from theatre to teaching. Still, in my one solid space to indulge in the performing arts I so adore, I should have the comfort of being free to be myself without people crying out how perverse and inauthentic I am for existing, as well as the freedom to play characters that are authentic because queer and gender-fluid people DO exist!

And on this, Spirit Day, of all days.

I’m sorry, but that’s just pathetic.

I’m Offended That She’s Offended

Alright, so this is probably going to end up as more of a diary entry than a blog post, but I feel compelled to write it anyways for the public, because although it isn’t a huge quandary it caught me completely off guard so I’m still a tad in shock.

Sometimes I forget homophobia exists; I’ve been lucky enough to be surrounded by a stunning amount of queer people and allies for the last five years. I’m perfectly comfortable without having to change the pronouns in my poems, and when I play lesbians and the likes I would never expect jeers.

Now I’m at college, an art college. One would think that the transition would be seamless, the same sort of queers and allies would rally around each other, and although I know some, since it’s only inevitable, the diversity means there are bound to be some antagonists, unfortunately.

Today was the most blatant incident. We spoke in class of the cultural dynamics of marriage and were paired up to discuss the attributes we wanted for a hypothetical marriage. Simple enough. I sat beside the girl I’m closest to; I barely know her, but I feel comfortable small-talking with her. The teacher went around and assigned us partners. I was put with her.

I thought, “Oh, good; thank God it’s someone I know a tad, this’ll make it much more fun!” The professor asked us whether or not this partnership was alright. Before I could say, “Oh, of course!” my partner objected saying, “No!”

I thought she was joking, and let a chuckle fall from my lips, but she continued. “No! No! No!” Alright, fine. It’s her decision, and I’m pretty compatible with others, albeit introverted in this atmosphere. My former partner kept going, though, “No! Eww, that’s just- Eww! No! No! No!” I didn’t expect this. She kept kevetching until the professor put a stop to her complaints.

I was awestruck, though it may seem little in comparison, while terrorists slaughter same-sex couples world-wide everyday. This just hit surprisingly close to home. It was a simple little exercise not an engagement, and the fact that the prospect of pretending to be a lesbian for five minutes brought the girl into a full-fledged panic saddens me a great deal.

I’m all over moral ambiguity, and, especially since I liked her before now, this incident doesn’t deem the girl as evil. It just hurts me that someone I was comparatively close to, who infiltrated my heart a bit, can so easily utter such destain for people like me. Usual instances of my beloveds being homophobic tend to be misunderstanding and unfortunate choices of words. Though this might just be the latter, it seems so much more venomous than anything I’ve experienced first hand from someone I care about. I’ve faced sweeps of homophobic remarks from strangers, but that’s different.

Anyways, this doesn’t really have a moral or thesis; I’m writing it in the Cafeteria after class, and have real things to write, but still I needed to vent since the visceral response of that girl’s words and actions still haven’t left me. I write what I feel, so this needed to be done.

P.S. I was also surprised to be called: extreme and progressive for insisting that in the fake wedding my actual partner and I planned, my bride’s maids would be both bridesmaids and bridesmen since I love my guy friends and it seems stupid to be so pedantic and restrictive about the gender of my loved ones when the whole point of the ceremony is love.

August 9th 2014

Anytime I’m asked to describe myself on social media websites, I list five components of my identity: Artist, Feminist, 19 Years Old, Pansexual and Demigirl. I list those five for the same reasons people list things like their zodiac sign or which Hogwarts house they belong to, because those five things mean a lot to me and in my opinion say a lot about my identity in a quick little shorthand. If someone says they’re a Hufflepuff, one can glean they probably take pride in their loyalty or if they say they’re a scorpio, they might be hoping to communicate their passionate demeanor. As for me, I identify as an artist in an almost spiritual way, a feminist in a very political way, and my age communicates where I am in life in terms of how many years I’ve had thus far to figure out this universe of ours. As for the latter two, their importance to me is a tad more nuanced.

I identify as tremendously queer, which is an odd thing, since there’s no unit of measurement for queerness, yet within the last year, my gender identity and sexuality have proven themselves more important than more obvious things such as my cultural heritage. Which, speak of the devil, is Irish Catholic, and because of that, I found myself in attendance at a catholic school from first to eighth grade. Although those years don’t hold much value for me at this point in my life, they definitely impacted my views on LGBTQIAP+ issues.

Due to the vitriol I heard about the queer community and queer people in general, I was hesitant to believe my own feelings of queerness, brushing them off as the sort of sinful impulses and thoughts one must never own up to unless in confession. As I grew older I began realizing how many of the figures I found intriguing were queer, and although none of those queer artists seemed evil or mislead due to their sexuality or gender identity, according to what I had been taught, they inherently were.

One particular incident that stands out to me was after I attended a play about Oscar Wilde’s life, along with my grandma and her friends, and while they decried the piece as smutty, I found myself unable to escape the empathy I felt for Wilde, who was of course imprisoned and tormented due to his homosexuality.

Though at that point in my life, I still saw the inequality faced by queer people as something that wasn’t my fight, and although public issues such as marriage equality may have been something I felt strongly about and always defended, I maintained the belief that those issues had nothing to do with me.

Then the best thing that has ever happened to me happened. I attended a performing arts high school, which allowed me to be surrounded by people of all genders and sexual orientations, many of whom were my teachers. The four years I spent at Saint Paul Conservatory for Performing Artists were the best of my life thus far, and although I can attribute that mostly due to my education in Musical Theatre, I felt like I belonged in the SPCPA community more than any community I’d ever been a part of prior.

I felt comfortable “coming out” although I didn’t know how to classify myself. I began to refer to myself as Bisexual. Yet as soon as I allowed that detail to be known about me, one of my queer friends sat me down and declared, “You aren’t really bi, you just want to be queer like everyone else so you aren’t just an ally”. For some strange reason I believed her.

Nevertheless, I kept feeling as though straight and CISgender was something I surely wasn’t. I also figured there must be a better term than Bisexual to define what I was, especially since defining attraction, or anything else, for that matter, with a strict dichotomy of male and female seemed limiting and unhelpful. This proved even truer as I began to meet people who identified outside of those categories.

Soon I discovered the word Pansexual, which fit me well, and genderqueer which sounded like me as well. I embraced those identities, especially while in a show called ‘Queertopia’ for the 2013 Twin Cities PRIDE festival. I felt so comfortable with that cast and experience that since it closed, I’ve felt what I can only accurately describe as homesick for that show.

Performing has definitely impacted how I see myself; it took playing Ruth from Pirates of Penzance to see myself as beautiful (oddly enough), and it took playing queer characters, such as Matron Mama Morton from Chicago and a more outwardly queer version of myself in Queertopia to realize that my queer identity was something I value in myself and something that should be celebrated.

When I went to Columbia, I felt my identity challenged once again. Just as once before, I was seen as a mere ally, since I didn’t have proof of my queerness in the form of a girlfriend. Because of that, I didn’t feel comfortable in the Columbia Queer club I attempted to join. That coupled with some disturbing moments of homophobia in the acting class I took, made me feel as though Columbia was the exact opposite of Saint Paul Conservatory for Performing Arts and Queertopia, the two experiences I felt the most at home.

I wound up finding my own queer refuge by becoming more of an outward part of the Queer community online. I also discovered ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ which felt like salvation during my most difficult moments at Columbia. Through Hedwig I began to explore my own gender identity more, which caused me to find a word that I felt suited me better than Genderqueer: Demigirl, meaning one who identifies partially as female and partially as gender-neutral.

When I returned to Minnesota to finish my Associates at Minneapolis Community and Technical College, I was greeted with the same comforting community I missed in Chicago, and attending Twin Cities PRIDE this year felt like more of a celebration than usual. I worked as a stagehand for the MCTC PRIDE show, which helped homeless LGBTQIAP+ youth, and the connected, homey feeling I felt when I performed in Queertopia returned to me.

My queerness and connection to the LGBTQIAP+ community means more to me than I ever thought it could. I’ve experienced the deep spiritual connection to the positive aspects of this community, as well as the elitist, exclusive elements, yet at the end of the day, it was the exposure to a queer community through performing arts that has made me the person I am today: Artist, Feminist, 19 Years Old, Pansexual and Demigirl.

Introduction

My queerness is really important to me, and I noticed that the only topic I really care to blog about is Queerness, so I decided to make this blog. I feel like putting my experience as a queer person out there into the world is an important thing for me to do for myself, and perhaps it might be important/helpful to others as well. I was inspired to make this because of Rantasmo’s ’Needs More Gay’, Helene Cixous’ thoughts about how it's important for people of an oppressed group to find their identity through writing their experiences in an honest and unrestrained way, as well as a conversation I had with my best friend about how sharing one’s experiences on a public blog is especially valid/important if the stories you tell could potentially help others in situations similar to your lived experiences. I know if I knew others felt the way I felt in certain circumstances, it would’ve helped me lots, but there were times when I had to connect with fictional characters instead, but because of that, those characters are super important to me (you’ll likely get tired of my Hedwig references, just warning you ahead of time). Anyways, I wanted to make this blog, so I did, and hopefully it’ll be of help to someone, even if the only someone it helps is me.