shame and shameless

December 8, 2009 - Leave a Response

Two little items for you tonight…

First, Capital Xtra just published a feature I wrote about queer shame – specifically, about the social mechanism of shame and how it plays out in queer lives. In addition to my own pontifications on the topic, I talked to San Francisco-based sex educator Charlie Glickman, who works as the education program manager with Good Vibrations, as well as Ottawa-based LGBT-, poly- and kink-friendly therapist and professor Peggy Kleinplatz and Shelley Taylor, owner and operator of Venus Envy Ottawa. It’s the kick-off to a series of articles aiming to explore the concept of shame in depth. I can’t wait to read the rest of them – a rich topic indeed!

Speaking of shame, this next bit is a shameless attempt to get my name entered in a really awesome contest more than once. Specifically, the ubercool FetLife contest in which they’re giving away $25,000 worth of kinky gear. But self-serving or no, I wouldn’t post this if I didn’t think it might be of interest to some of you. Seriously. You log on to FetLife.com, click on the red bar at the top of the page, and pick the three kinky goodies of which you are most enamored. The list is long and the stuff is fantastic – corsetry, leather gear, toys, bondage equipment, electrical play stuff, even a couple of those amaaaazing heavy stainless-steel dildos by NJoy. If you win, well, you get one of the items you picked. All provided by FetLife advertisers. And then they ask you to pimp the contest by doing things like this, in order to increase your chances of winning. But you don’t have to.

So, my pervy friends – have fun! Shamelessly.

please, no thank-you

December 5, 2009 - 14 Responses

About ten years ago, I hooked up with a guy I met at the gym. We spent a few months together and he was a fantastic lover. But after the first time we had sex, he did something that made me cringe: he said “thank you.”

I know he had good intentions. Or at least, I will give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he had good intentions. But the way it came out, and the context of the conversation, made it clear that he was operating in a mindset that was… well, kinda icky. I think he felt he needed to say thanks because in his world, girls didn’t like having sex; they did it as a favour to their men. Sex was a favour, an indulgence, a prize, something to be grateful for because really, it was a bit of a sacrifice on her part. It was a coveted object, a reward for good behaviour, a special treat when she happens to be feeling generous. It was a very gender-binary, heterosexual and transactional way of approaching sex, and it put me in a box that did not fit and attributed feelings to me that I did not feel.

It grossed me the fuck out.

I told him in no uncertain terms that I did not want to be thanked for sex. That I wanted sex as much as he did, maybe more, and that in no way was I doing him some sort of benevolent favour by getting in the sack with him. His thank-you blunted my agency, assumed I had no desire or interest or libido of my own; and since I am very much an agent of my own pleasure and a desiring, libidinous human being, I felt misunderstood and insulted that he could have misread my experience of our fuck as anything other than pure, genuine pleasure. What kind of actress was he accustomed to bedding? (And why would anyone even need to put on a show for him? The man had talent aplenty!)

We did figure it out. More or less, at least. He’d never dated a queer woman before and as time went on, it became clear that there was a lot about our sex life that was surprising or different for him, so the “thank-you” talk was one of many conversations we had that involved trying to mesh two worldviews that really didn’t fit very well.

That relationship eventually ended when the incompatibilities started to pile up just a bit too high. But that specific experience really stuck with me, and I carried it over into other situations that weren’t nearly the same. For a long time, “thank you” was a trigger point for me – it was an instant flashback to feeling incredibly misunderstood.

I have since had many experiences where “thank you” means something a whole lot different. “Thank you” can be a way to express respect and appreciation in a context of mutuality – not so much “thank you for allowing me to take my pleasure by using your body” as “thank you for enjoying the ride with me.” It can be a way to express the joy and honour of being allowed into someone’s vulnerability. “Thank you” can be a way to express submission and gratitude in a sexual D/s situation, when kindness has been proffered that actually is a favour – I had a conversation with a submissive not long ago who made it clear that he’d been trained by his first mistress to say “thank you” after anything sexual took place, as a way of indicating respect and appreciation for the efforts of the dominant. For that matter, “thank you” can come in handy for dominants too, in recognition of a submissive’s openness and trust. In short it can mean all kinds of things that aren’t the least bit icky at all.

But I’ll admit that sometimes, for me, “thank you” still echoes a bit funny when I hear it. It can create a distance I thought sex had bridged, a formality in situations where I thought intimacy was happening. It can still turn an experience of mutuality into an experience of transaction. That’s not the effect it has all the time; sometimes it’s really okay. But sometimes, with a certain tone and at a certain moment, with a certain look in the eye, “thank you” can still do more harm than good.

What have your experiences been with the words “thank you” after sex? I’d love to hear your stories.

comics / communication / condolences

December 4, 2009 - One Response

Tonight, I’ve got good news and bad news.

Okay, I’ll give you the good news first. Two pieces of it, actually.

First, a very fun article I got to write for the latest issue of Outlooks is just out now. I had the great pleasure of interviewing queer Canadian stand-up comics Elvira Kurt, Darcy Michael and Trevor Boris. I only wish they could’ve printed longer versions of our conversations! I swear, interviewing comedians is the bomb. It’s kinda like having your own private one-person show. Anyway, the results, woefully shortened though they may be, are here (scroll to page 52, “Funny Like That”).

Second, I’ll be giving a workshop entitled “Partner-to-Partner Communication” for Sweet & Spicy Aphrodite in Ottawa Friday night (tonight) at 7. It’s part of Pink Triangle Services’ week of events and programming for women of sexual and gender minorities. Come say hi! The direction of it will be very much participant-led, so come make of it what you need.

On a much sadder note, longtime Vancouver leatherdyke Catherine White Holman died last week in a plane crash in BC. I never met her, but her death has rocked the community out West and I was asked to help spread the word in case anyone didn’t yet know. (I checked in with friends who knew her and was assured that she was an out and proud leatherdyke who would have had no problem with this information being publicly posted as such.) As one of the entries on her condolence page reads, “Catherine was a fierce femme with a bold and beautiful spirit. We will so miss her bright light.” Read the Xtra West article if you’d like to learn more about the details of her life and her passing. My sincerest condolences to all those who knew her.

it’s over

December 2, 2009 - 2 Responses

Well, now it’s December, which means November’s over, which means NaBloPoMo is finished. I wasn’t completely successful at posting every day, but then again, this month I suffered a nasty back injury (I’m much better now, thanks, but it wasn’t fun at all), and a death in Boi L’s family that had the triad flying off to a funeral unexpectedly, on top of school and travel for speaking gigs and judging MLT and working and attending Laura Antoniou and Midori’s fabulous weekend-long Passionate Bonds D/s protocol intensive. So I forgive myself.

Thanks to all of you who joined me for the endeavour – this month was a record-breaker in terms of the number of hits on this here blog. When I started blogging in early 2006, I never would I have imagined so many of you would end up stopping by. I am honoured to have you here and grateful for all your thought-provoking input. Do, please, keep it coming. And congrats to all the Queer Canada Blogs folks who managed to pull it off, as well as those who made commendable efforts. Yay for queer Canadian bloggers!

Somewhere amid all the craziness, I managed to squeeze in a couple of interviews with Dr. Dick of Dr. Dick’s Sex Advice in Seattle. He just posted the podcast of the first one – tune in here if you’re interested. It was a fun conversation about kink, terminology, the leather title circuit and more. Next week it’ll be about polyamory and other good stuff, and I’ll post that link when it’s up too.

What with the end of semester and three big term papers to write, I’m not sure how often I’ll be posting in the next month. On the other hand, my term papers are going to be about 1) the philosophical question of whether or not it can be ethical to use images of real-life violence for erotic stimulation, 2) a close analysis of an primary source in Canadian leatherdyke history, probably a complete set of old dyke porn mags from Vancouver that I managed to score while I was at Canadian Mayhem in May, and 3) what Audre Lorde’s “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power” might have to say about the topic of dyke sadomasochism. So it’s not like there’s any lack of brain fodder in there which could potentially serve as blog material. You’ll be the first to know!

In the meantime, good luck with the impending holiday madness.

down with elevation

December 1, 2009 - 5 Responses

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a talk with scholar Elizabeth Young Breuhl entitled “Sexual Diversity in Cosmopolitan Perspective.” By and large it was an interesting talk. Her main point was that our concept of what constitutes sexual deviancy is shifting from an acts-based model to an intent-based model (my words, not hers) – more or less, that we used to consider deviant acts to be those that fall outside the heterosexual monogamous reproductive imperative, but that we’re moving toward a conception of deviancy that’s more about whether those acts are based in real personal connection (i.e. not in violence or objectification) and with full consent of all participants. Perhaps a bit optimistic, but a good point nonetheless.

A few things bothered me about her talk, though, one of the main ones being that she pulled that classic white Western stunt of romanticizing Native cultures. Specifically she spoke about how Two-Spirit people were elevated in status in Native tribes, in service to making a larger point about how “other” cultures have been a lot nicer to their sexual minorities than contemporary Western society is.

Okay. Fair enough. I am aware that some Native tribes in some places did elevate the status of the people who were sexual and gender minorities, and that’s a beautiful and proud tradition well worth reclaiming as many modern-day Two-Spirit people are doing. But to hear her speak of this as though it were a simple, unproblematic and universal concept among all tribes everywhere was just not so cool. I’m no expert in First Nations history, not by a long shot, but it doesn’t take an expert to hear the tinny ring of romanticization in statements like hers.

For starters, not every Native tribe did or does things the same way. So to make any statement that lumps them all in together in their approach to Two-Spirit people is necessarily inaccurate. I would be very surprised if every single tribe in North America were universally friendly to sexual and gender minorities, pre-colonization, and among those that were, I’d be further very surprised if “friendly” operated the same way everywhere and was universally simple and wonderful. No culture has a perfect approach to sexual and gender diversity, now or in the past, and anytime I see a rosy picture of any culture painted by white people, my mind always leaps to basic racism. People often think that racism is only really racism if you’re holding negative stereotypes about people, but it’s a lot broader than that. Pseudo-positive stereotypes are just as problematic – you know the ones. Black people are such good singers and dancers, and they’re so happy (subtext: they aren’t qualified to be intellectuals or business people or much of anything beyond a source of entertainment for white people). Asian women are gentle, great lovers and highly skilled manual labourers (subtext: they are fit to be sexually and emotionally dominated by white men and underpaid in menial jobs). Women are naturally loving, nurturing and kind (subtext: they’re weak and pliable and have no real power). And so forth.

Next to that, Western colonization came into the picture many generations ago and inevitably took a devastating toll on Native cultures of all sorts, bringing with it a repressive religious framework and rigid concepts of gender and appropriate sexual behaviour – not to mention atrocities like residential schools and numerous other horrendous examples of oppression. So even if it were accurate to believe that Native cultures were perfect havens for the sexually diverse at some unspecified point in the past, that past is a long time ago and the present looks very different indeed.

But that’s just the surface level of what bothered me. On a deeper level, the concept of “elevated status” itself is problematic. Much like “positive” stereotyping comes with reductive subtexts, just because we elevate the status of a given group doesn’t mean there’s no down side. In fact, the vast majority of the time, when we elevate the status of a group we simultaneously subject that group to some really rotten hatred. So just because in some cases Two-Spirit people were elevated in status doesn’t somehow mean that prejudice or restrictions were not also operating against those people at the same time.

We see this all over the place. Women are often elevated in status – in some contexts, we’re worshiped as goddesses of fertility or purity, held up as examples of moral and sexual virtue, treated with great politeness and consideration. Our history is full of examples of this sort of treatment. But that hardly eliminates the dark side of worship. When you’re on a pedestal, it’s awfully easy to fall off – to literally become a “fallen woman,” fit only for abuse and degradation. The old idea, for example, that women shouldn’t have to work for a living comes hand in hand with an insistence that women don’t have the right to work or get paid equally when they do. The idea that women are sexually pure and morally virtuous very easily transforms into a restrictive double standard about the right to sexual pleasure and agency, and brings with it a need for “dirty” women to serve as receptacles for men’s sexual needs that they simply could never bring home to their wives – Madonna/whore dichotomy, anyone? And all of these ideas come with huge unstated racial bias in the first place – white women are good and clean while women of colour are dirty and fit to be used; white women shouldn’t work, but black women can be enslaved.

Other examples abound. Here’s one. We live in a culture that worships children – that perpetuates the myth that children have no sexuality and are the models of innocence, until they hit an age that’s arbitrarily chosen by the state after which point they’re magically transformed into adults. It’s totally unrealistic, of course, but the mythology holds tremendous power. It’s spawned (or been spawned by?) a cult of youth-worship, fed by commercialism and mass media, in which we all strive, beyond any semblance of realism, to appear and be as youthful as possible. But actual kids are treated like shit in our culture. They’re stripped of agency, denied information about their sexuality (for fear of corrupting them – or is it for fear of corrupting our own holy paragons of innocence?), and abused and disrespected in the home and in institutions (just look at the Catholic church). When they don’t comply with the standard of sexual innocence, they’re seen as deviant and treated as such. Of course, this isn’t true for every child in every home all over North America, but it holds as a general statement. (Read Judith Levine’s amazing book Harmful to Minors for an eloquent analysis of this problem.)

The underpinning of this worship/abuse pairing is objectification. I’m not just talking about the classic use of that term, in the sense of looking at women’s bodies while ignoring them as people – although that’s certainly one example. No, I mean objectification in a broader sense. I’m talking about our strange tendency to use people – both individual people (in the case of celebrities) and groups of people (lumped together around their common characteristics) as projection screens for our own anxieties, hopes and desires. In modern-day North American culture specifically, this little habit is so common as to be unremarkable. We create heroes and icons so that we can place our hopes and dreams on them; and we treat them with a potent, and sometimes deadly, combination of worship and disrespect that’s only really possible if we forget about their humanity. This dehumanization takes place in such disparate areas as celebrity stalking (“I love you so much I’ll invade your privacy and possibly even injure or kill you”), certain forms of misogyny and racism and child worship/abuse like I mentioned above, the projection of ideals on disabled people (“you’re brave and long-suffering and inspiring to all we able-bodied people, but we won’t employ you or give you any dignity or make buildings and transit systems that you can use”), and many more.

The specific social realities of each example are vastly different – I’m certainly not trying to equate the hardships of a stalked movie star with those of an oppressed disabled person, for example – but the psychological process is the same. As soon as we start to elevate and worship a person or group of people, we simultaneously turn them into an object that reflects our needs and hopes and anxieties, and that objectification in turn creates the grounds for abuse.

This isn’t to say we can’t admire individuals for the good work they do, or praise the richness of a given culture, or even seek metaphor in the social situations of various groups based on their shared characteristics. I think I’m just pointing to the problems that come with these practices when we go a step beyond human admiration to hero worship, or a step beyond genuine interest in a group’s reality to simplistic stereotyping and fetishizing. It may look good and shiny on the surface, but it’s rotten at the core.