With the Autumn Equinox just past, it seemed like an appropriate time to get back to you all. A part of the delay was an effort to get my fall semester worked out and subsequently find the room for "fun" things like this emotionally-taxing-at-times blog and the occasional night of sleep. Happy to say I've done absolutely none of that!
While Queer Spirituality is back in full swing on campus, I have yet to return - mostly because I'm at home completing assignments until the last possible second and frequently just miss it. I've heard there has been a significant increase in attendance which excites me more than I can say. I have been taking the opportunity at home to actively inform myself on more current issues in the Jewish community, the trans* community, and other groups I feel as though I owe the attention to. I do miss the simultaneous relaxation and stimulation QS provided me in the spring though.
If you recall the last post I did before my extended absence (here if you don't), I was extremely aggravated about the exclusion of trans* bodies and individuals from medical discourse - particularly reproductive justice and the rights surrounding that, such as sterilization as a requirement for the recognition of gender changes, the old joke "Oh, you're a lesbian, it must be so nice not to need birth control," etc. I am more fortunate than most in my complaining because I've been given the opportunity to see this conversation get taken to the next level. Not only am I working with Advocates for Youth and their push for comprehensive sex education (which includes transgender individuals and their needs!) but my amazing partner has also expanded their masters' thesis to include similar discourse. Watching that come together is an amazing (and quite frankly, motivational) experience for me, and being so close to it has helped to remind me of why I was so aggravated in the first place.
I've also had several amazing chances to develop long-lasting connections with several individuals within the trans* movement and academic arena, all three of which have been inspiring in their own ways. Joy Ladin has really helped me reestablish that connection to my Jewish roots and make a space for that (personally speaking, not research-wise) reconciliation between bearing a trans*/genderqueer identity and my religious/cultural roots; Susan Stryker has motivated me to take my academic work to the next level and is out there creating a top-notch first program of its kind at the University of Arizona that I want nothing more than to be a part of once my time comes, and Janet Mock simply made my life by being one of the most beautifully down-to-earth women I have ever met in my life. Every day, these three women remind me of what destinations are truly possible and what the fights to reach them are often worth.
Anyway - I suppose it's time we get down to business. I've spent the last few months sinking in what seems like hopelessly difficult revelations, and while I've taken time to reflect on them in real life, we all know that nothing makes it easier to understand than writing an "angsty" blog post.
As I've said numerous times before, intersectionality is the air I breathe (because I was properly educated by amazing professors to do so). But I've forgotten recently that while intersectionality is a reality, that reality is constantly shifting, growing and evolving. While I've talked about several of my most important aspects of identity excessively on here, I've had the chance to dig up a few more over the summer that I had never really thought about before.
The Accelerating Racial Justice retreat I attended this summer was a catalyst for a very deep period of self-reflection and, as my friend Z said, growth of confidence in myself and who I thought that might be.
What I had never considered seriously before (although I had obviously thought about it because I very much view my Judaism as more ethnic than religious) was the racial aspect of my identity. I spent the entire duration of ARJ fighting battles with myself about how to accept that I had white privilege unless I voluntarily outed myself as something not white. I had felt guilty for "passing" but had also experienced racial discrimination as both a Jew and a Latin@ at the hands of "true" white people. So I obviously had conflicts there, not only within myself but in how I had identified myself to the group I was with. It was also the first time I had ever encountered myself as the racially disadvantaged member in a relationship of any sort, which created a weird sort of tension not only during the week but after I returned home.
I had also never previously thought about myself in the context of (dis)ability. I had, but only in the sense that it was an aspect I consistently refused to acknowledge. While I've had an interest in disability studies and the scope of that conversation for some time, it was hardly academic. It was mostly a selfish interest to test my limits when it came to owning my identity. This is a conversation I've had more in depth with my partner, but it was so long ago that I hardly remember what was said. Essentially, I just remember having a really difficult time with the idea of labeling myself as disabled in some way, because a) I don't think I even know the proper language to do so, and b) when I see someone in a wheelchair, or someone who is blind, or deaf, or in some other way more visibly, permanently so, how can I claim the right to that identity without feeling guilty? And then it occurred to me that I am really only disabled in the context in which I surround myself with healthy, able-bodied individuals.
In spite of this new development in how I see myself, I am happy to say that I have become more at peace with everything that had taken place in the winter and spring, and yes, I do feel even more confident in that self. I have started on the long journey to becoming more involved with things I am passionate about truly as myself, rather than someone whose rights were affected by such issues. I am beginning to embrace the community around me, and hoping to continue to expand it into the world at large.
I know this wasn't exactly revelatory, but I think it was a necessary "It's been so long, I've missed you, how have you been" sort of post.
Janet Mock and I at Urban Retreat 2013, Photo by "Lloyd"
No comments:
Post a Comment