Tag: college/universities

Back to School; Grudges, People, and Progress

Posted on by JAC

I’ve never been very dedicated to school. As a non-traditional learner with typical ‘atypical’ learning (dis)abilities, I was never very adept at the “learning environment” as it was presented to me. I entered grad school with two primary motivations: hope and desperation.  I was hoping to become better; to become more skilled and learn the things I hadn’t been able to teach myself. I was desperate for more; I wanted to do more to help my community. I wanted  more authority over the systems that ruled over me. I wanted more power, and power comes from getting that paper.

I really don’t like my university; And not just because it is an exemplary representation of the corporate college industrial complex; its sick sports obsession; its gross financial incompetence; or its staunch conservatism. I don’t like it because I’ve got a grudge. It was there I first put faith in my ability to change a system, and was first truly let down. I was used to being rejected by the learning process, but this was the first place I actively decided I would do something – not wanted to it or hoped to; I decided I would change it, no matter what.  Contrary to the stories I flung at administrators, I didn’t work for change out of  school spirit. My activism was aimed more at thwarting the institution’s dynamic, rather than supporting it. The institution pushed back, and hard, until I ended up spending all my time doing activism, not studying. The school was a system I was trapped inside and making resources felt like the only way out. Activism was my education, the classes were auxiliary. When I look back, I’m still amazed I graduated; only took me 6 straight years… And when I was done, I prepared my activist projects for new leaders and I got the hell out. I don’t think I thought I would ever come back, but here I am.

This winter, I attended an open house for the campus’ brand new LGBTQ Center. It was surreal for me to walk into the (exact) space that six years ago, I ignited the (long smoldering) fight to get. I came to the event feeling happy about the space being built, but still angry about my own blood in the bricks. But when I walked in the door, all I felt was nervous relief; a mix of retreating anxiety and seething frustrations. The small program started and I listened to the administrators ramble about how great their work was for this space. I wondered if they were really as delusional as they seemed. Looking them in the face, they didn’t remember me as the frustrated student activist in front of their desk. I was just another student they “helped.” I felt even more disconnected from the institution, and just as jaded about the administration. I listened to the last speaker with low expectations. There was a lot of disappointment in our joint past. Years ago, she was both a hurdle and a step in my work to get a queer center. I felt like she could never see past her desk, though perhaps not from a lack of trying. She always loved to compliment the faculty and staff, forgetting to mention the reason they were all there: the students. In my years as an organizer, it was a huge point of contention between us. I respected her for listening to my complaints; I judged her for not acting on them. When she stood in front of the room, I was shocked to see, through the folds of her papers, the names of student organizations. After all these years, she thanked the students first – in fact it was the only thing she talked about. You could tell she was a little out of her element, but her intention was clear. She was the only speaker that day who mentioned students in any context that was not a direct compliment to themselves. She made a point to show the students had done the work, and I made a point to thank her for that. In the after-program crowd, a dean walked past me. I recognized him as one of the many talking heads I had met as an undergrad; another face behind a desk, saying he wanted to help, but mostly powerless to do anything about it. As he came by me, he smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. “Good to see you again.” he said, “I glad you were hear for this.” I have to admit it. I was shocked. I smiled and shook his hand, but I doubt he knew why I was so glad to do it. I was grateful that someone cared enough to remember me. Sometimes we have to be reminded that administrators are people too. I guess I should know that, considering I was one for a short time. And if working in a college environment (as an activist and again as a professional) taught me anything, it was that administrators are not all suits behind desks; there are ones who really care about the students. Being in front of the desk showed me the red tape; being behind the desk made me feel it. An administrator can be a wrench in the gears, yes, but the machine is the real problem. “Higher Education” “Student Life” is a machine; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. That day, it worked, in more ways than one.

All of this didn’t sell me on the institution. Call me a judgey mcjudgerface if you like, but it takes more than a couple warm fuzzies to win me over – though it is a good start. And though I wasn’t feeling any strong sense of kinship with the admins, I did sense was a bond with the students. I watched them sitting on the floor, smiling, happy to have their own space; a place where they could feel safe and be themselves. They have a LGBTQ center. It isn’t perfect, and I know I’ll soon decide it still isn’t good enough, but it is there – it exists. When I was in undergrad, that was just about all I wanted… Standing there, seeing the reality that I had only dreamed about, it reminded me of how I used to feel: that passion I felt, and the desperation; how tirelessly I worked, how much it hurt every time I was kicked down, and how much stronger I felt every time I got back up. I was filled by a humbling sense that I played a small part in something bigger. It reminded me of how important campus activism can be, how many people it can reach, and how many lives it can change. It may seem like an organizing “small fish,” but when the pond is a puddle, a small fish is pretty damn big.

Bad Parenting: Effects of an Noninclusive Movement on Queer Kids

Posted on by JAC

This past weekend I had a fantastic romp to the University of Toledo.  I met some stellar students working their asses off to support their community, and ecstatically networked and made friends with who I consider to be one of the most significant drag performance groups in history, The Kinsey Sicks.

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With the Kinsey Sicks and UT student organizers Elizabeth and David.

This visit was my first official “keynote” slot, which like most titles, makes me sound cool and significantly more important than I actually am. I presented a new talk that I’m still experimenting with “How to wake up society in 500 calories or more – a sweet tooth’s guide to sex, gender, and the illusion of normalcy.” The topic turned out to be more relevant to my own thought processes throughout the weekend than I had anticipated. UT’s queer community reminded me very much of the community I was in, or more so on the edge of, during my undergrad at the University of Cincinnati. Now, both UC and UT are large state schools smack in the middle of very racially and economically segregated, (initially) industry based Midwestern cities so maybe one would expect similarities. But even without location, population, or environment, I think there is a bigger influence in play here.  Queer communities -campuses included-  don’t live in a vacuum. We are all exposed to the same oppressive systems, whether it is anti-queer discrimination and hate or “GLBT” propaganda.

Sometimes I can’t decided which is worse. Having one million monsters outside the door, or one hundred inside the house. Everyday queers are not only dealing with the oppressions of heteronormativity, but homonormativity as well. There is a division in the house of non-hetero politic, but I feel the familiar saying of “a house divided cannot stand” doesn’t apply. I think a house divided can stand, but that’s about all it can do. If G.L. Homeowner can only afford to give minimal upkeep to the house, naturally they will take care of the rooms they use most. If given enough attention, the chosen rooms can get to be pretty swank, maybe accent it with some nice furniture… but the over-all value of the house will be the same. It will never improve, it will be just good enough. And you sure as hell can’t let your family get any bigger than what the nice rooms can accommodate- to break the metaphor, better not let any of those gender non-conformers or people of color in. Surely they’re better off where they are out back. They’re probably happy there, and they’re used to it.

Normative conceptualization of queer communities is not accidentally spread.  National marginalization of under-represented, often non-normative groups feeds our marginalization in smaller communities, like college campuses. Smaller communities will naturally have less resources and need to reach out to larger ones, creating a cycle of stagnation with no new exchanges of information. Perfect example: Most people have HRC stickers not because they even actually know what the hell HRC is, its because that was all they could find.All they know is the equal sign means good and means gay. What more is there? Race? Class? Identity? Not relevant. We’re all one homogeneous community, aren’t we? We are starving our youth of information, and they are paying the price for the community’s oversight. If young people are struggling for resources and isolating each other out of fear or ignorance it is because the greater community has not given them access to the information they need to develop their own autonomous understanding of the complex diversity of the queer community. The lucky ones figure it out for themselves, only to be stuck swimming against the current, isolated and alone.

How much can we really accomplish if our resources are close to inclusive, but not actually inclusive? Is this neglect any different from heteronomative society not teaching us  about queerness? We are promoting the same practice of oppression, we’re just excusing it because its in house.  “We’ll come back for you when we have more to go around” too easily turns into “We forgot about you” which might as well be “We never gave a shit about you in the first place, cause if we did, we would have brought you along in the first place.”

MBLGTACC and Inclusion vs. Illusion

Posted on by JAC

This past weekend was the Midwest Bisexual, Lesbian, Gay, Trans, Ally College Conference, affectionately called MBLGTACC (mmmble-tack). It took place in Madison, Wisconsin, the home of my fabulous friend-drag-troupe the MadKings and made new friends with a troupe called DragKing Rebellion. Both are genderfuckingly fabulous. This conference holds a special place for me because of the rarity of a large, open queer space in the Midwest, particularly one that is youth focused. I was also excited to get to hang out with friends made last year as well as my dear pals Helen Boyd, Rachel, and Kate Bornstein.

I presented two workshops, one of which I ranted about Katy Perry and had to doddle a bird to calm down. haha, it was ridiculous. Good groups this year, and the workshops were shockingly packed. It was nuts and totally unexpected. Also, this year I performed in the hosted drag show which was super fun. The stage was carpeted, so I had to do soft-shoe instead of tap. Oh well. My friend Lisa got some awesome pics of the show. My flapper number was particularly popular, again unexpected because I was the only solo performer (all else were large, fantastic troupes). One person even gave me a pile of change, which traditionally in drag is considered an insult, but I saw their rushed, smiling face and knew it was actually a compliment. Later the person told me that they loved the number but had no singles and wanted to show support the only way they could. Its kinda one of my favorite things ever now, very touching. This was also the first show I have ever performed in where I was being rated by a panel of judges. It was an American Idol skit involving 5 audience members. One judge made a joke saying “I though you deserved the change, because you have totally changed my sexuality.” It was hilarious. I think I don’t fully realize how genderfucked I look when I perform, because I never expect the reactions I get. I think its that classic tale of never knowing exactly how you look to others.

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[image:  JAC – in a black and white fringe flapper dress, pink hair, lipstick and blue eye make up, white feather boa, and sequined head band. Smiling with arm outstretched singing to the audience.]

Also, all us performers had to throw in another number because one group didn’t come. I had no extra costumes, and instead of throwing something together from other people’s clothes, I decided to make a bit out of it and go in my skivvies. Also got some really bad rug burn and bruises since I was rolling around and dancing practically naked. All part of the job. :)

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[image: JAC on stage in black binder and underwear. His arms are up in front of him in clenched fists with a hopeful look on his face]

My scantily clad performance was not just a cry for 1500 peoples’ attention.  It was also a message. I have a habit of creating numbers with messages that no one would catch on to except me. As a performer I feel that sometimes it is important to have your own meaning to things, even if no one else knows what it is.

Throughout the conference there was a rising tension about the accessibility and inclusion of the conference of people of color, trans folk, and people with disabilities. Being friends with several organizers I was able to hear the sides of the organizers but since I myself was not an organizer, I was able to also hear that of the general conference assembly. I an only speak for myself from where my communities are. As a trans person I didn’t feel there was an issue for me. I will admit I am more flexible than some, but I am constantly on the look out for problematic things, so the face that I didn’t notice something leads me to believe that issues of trans accessibility were small. Plus, of all the people I talked to, which was a lot, I heard no complaints about trans stuff. When I learned it was about something so simple as bathroom signs not marking ALL bathrooms as all-gender, I got a little irritated. All bathrooms were originally labeled all-gender but the building staff removed the signs leaving a mens, womens, and unisex bathrooms. When I saw that there was a unisex bathroom I was happy about it. I didn’t care if it was titled unisex or had a new sign on it saying all-gender. Where are these people coming from where unisex isn’t good enough for them? I was just grateful to have the bathroom, and even one that wasn’t a “family” bathroom. Unisex vs. all-gender, pish posh. And its not like I don’t think I deserve something specific, as you all probably have learned by now I am heavy about what my community deserves. I just think that picking shit apart to the nth degree creates more problems that it solves. There is a difference between calling it out privilege and inaccessibility and being a pretentious and demanding. Often times I feel the people complaining speak for the entire community without asking us. Or aren’t even IN the community. So, I performed in my underwear to show I am trans and I care about this space, that no one has the right to speak for me, and that I feel safe at MBLGTACC even if it isn’t perfect yet.

EDIT 2.24.10: Thanks to a buddy of mine, I have been alerted to something I should have mentioned. Because I was either presenting or working the majority of the conference, there was a lot of things I did not see. One of the issues raised was pronouns and language, indeed probably the most common thing we deal with. More is included in comments below, I encourage you to read them. I think it further reiterates the fact that so many people are caught up in the illusion of-not just equality, but of education. Knowing about your own identity does not mean you understand that of others, which includes language and pronouns or how to just not be a shithead.

We are forever transitioning in our community. Accessibility is a major issue that must continue to have our full attention. One of the strategies for the planning committee for accessibility is to have no closed sessions next year in a move to include everyone.  I agree that we need to communicate with each other, foster coalitions, and educate ourselves and each other. That doesn’t mean we each have the right to know everything about everyone all the time. There is this illusion that in order to be equal we all have to be the same, that everyone can’t be included unless we are all in the same place with the same information. The same rights and access is not equal to the same EVERYTHING. As a trans person and a person with disabilities, I think this is bullshit.  I look forward to having some private community space. I want a safe space where people aren’t going to assume something about me, or ask a shitty question. I want to talk about what I am dealing with where I know everyone gets it. It’s not ok for people to come into community spaces just because they think our specific issues are interesting. Take an educational workshop if you want to learn something. “Learning” is about education, not entertainment and fascination. Its not always everyone’s business what a community is dealing with. I do not take it personally if a space is not for me, I feel others should not either. If you don’t like it, make your own fucking space. Its what we had to do. I can not label people by sight, and I won’t try, however I have been in spaces where I know people do not belong there. Even when prompted that it was a closed space they still stay, only later to openly identify themselves as someone from outside the community. WTF? Who do you think you are? You think its easy for people of color to carve out a space in a predominantly white movement with white language and white theories? You think its easy for trans people to fit in when all anyone is talking about is gay this and gay that, wrong pronouns flying, getting asked about their bodies, or being kicked out of their communities because they are who they are? I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me because my body is different, I don’t need anyone analyzing why I am not “healthy” like them. If you are able bodied, I don’t want to tell you anything about my situation and I shouldn’t have to. I think the result of having no closed spaces will not be that people will learn more, it will be that people, myself excluded, will just stop talking.

One thing I think is easy to forget in the confusion, stress, and hub-bub of big community spaces, both open and closed, is that in the end we are all in this together. What we need to do is make it the best for all of us in this greater house of queer, even if that means some rooms of the house are private. No one would expect to be allowed in the bathroom with you while you’re on the toilet. Why is that recognizable privacy but a closed session for queers of color is not? Or for trans-folk? Or disabled people? I think that people need to stop looking outside themselves and complaining, pull their heads out of their asses and and educate themselves for real. We can not get caught up in the fantasy of a magic utopia where we are all the same, because we are not. We do not all have the same rights, the same access. We can not pull through this together if we don’t respect each other, and that includes respecting each other’s right to privacy and space.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You Scream, I Scream

Posted on by JAC

He stood in the doorway. I could see him shaking from my desk. He sat across from my desk, avoiding eye contact. I tried to get him to speak, but before he got two words out he broke down. I didn’t need to ask. I knew who he was.

About a week before a student had come to my office looking for advice. While working at a center on campus, she met a community member who had come in looking for resources.  She gave me a brief description that could be summed up to: this person had been through a lot of shit.  It sadly wasn’t an unfamiliar story of a Midwestern  queer, but even I have to admit that it isn’t often you run into a case this bad. Abandonment, abuse, discrimination, rape, homelessness, unemployment, isolation, infection… he had been through it all.

I listened to myself as I spoke words of encouragement I had at one point told someone else… or myself: “You’ve been strong enough to get this far, no reason you can’t keep going. There is nothing wrong with you. You have a right to live and be happy.”

I did my best lend a listening ear and set him up with some resources. The sad truth was that there was no real queer community service system for him around here… or anywhere in the state. I wish I could have done something more to help him. I should of at least shaken his hand… His eyes reminded me of another set I have never forgotten. A young genderqueer I met about a year ago in Indiana. They came up to me after a presentation with tears in their eyes and said, “This is the first time I’ve ever met anyone like me. ” I looked at them and I could swear I was looking at myself.  All I could do was hug them. “I know its hard to imagine now,” I said, “but it does get better. If I made it this far, you can too.” As the words left my mouth I wondered how much farther I had come than this kid. Did I really have it all together like they thought I did?

I never heard from them. I wonder where they are now, what they are doing, if they’ve made it out ok. I don’t remember their name, only their face… the sight of my own painful past played out in someone else. I don’t think its a specific thing for the Midwest, but I do think it is part of a bigger picture. The fact that there are so many of us out there suffering when we shouldn’t have to. I wish there was some better, faster way to for all of us to know that no queer is alone in all this. Every time someone feels a pain because of their identity, someone else is having the exact same pain some 200 miles away. In that bond we can all be stronger.  That bond, that connection is the reason why we have to keep working, keep fighting to make things better. It isn’t over til we are all in the clear, and no one is left behind.

Ohio to Texas, My sister is awesome

Posted on by JAC

From my sister, to her school paper and student government at University of North Texas, in Denton, Texas:

“October 1, 2009
Dear Fellow Students,
I was recently accepted at UNT as a doctoral candidate in the English department. During a visit to Denton last spring, I was reassured that Denton, and UNT, were “not like the rest of Texas,” or, rather, not like the stereotype of Texas that I might conjure up: repressive, backwards, and rigid.

I was not worried, as I come from a red area in an often red state myself: Cincinnati, OH. And during my time as a master’s student at the University of Cincinnati I saw, thanks in part to the tireless efforts of my brother, Jac, vast changes for the better in University policies regarding the LGTB students and their rights. My brother, who is trans, was in fact elected Homecoming King last year.” [I actually wasn’t, I just ran as an activist statement. Hardly anyone voted for me, but I like that at least in someone’s memory I won. :) ] “…the University is supposed to be a bastion of tolerance and change, dedicated to protecting all of its students from discrimination and, in doing so, serving as a model for larger society…

…It has been brought to my attention that the University of North Texas (UNT) Student Government Association (SGA) has rejected the Homecoming Equality Bylaw, which would allow people to register for consideration as Homecoming King or Queen, regardless of gender. Further, the reasons given for this denial involve sound quite suspicious: LGTB students are not a large enough population to merit “special consideration”. Donors and alumni are uncomfortable with the passage of this basic civil liberty. Fundraising might be compromised.

Pedagogically, this is a nightmare. It says: “change is not possible after all.” It says: “questioning gender? Exploring issues of heteronormativity? Only applicable within the closed sphere of the classroom.” This is not an issue that only effects LGTB students. It effects every person who has embraced critical thinking. It effects every student who hungers for self-expression and holds back, terrified, because their individuality has been deemed “unworthy” of “special consideration” by some shadow majority. If the college years are not a time for self-exploration and individuality, when will these students again have a chance to find out who they could be?

Questioning heteronormativity is a task for every person, every day. Reversing this ruling is a chance to make a change for the better, and to demonstrate that UNT will not stand for policies that compromise the rights of any of its students. This is not a special consideration. It is a basic human right.”

This just further illustrates that even “liberal” spaces don’t always follow through on their progressive promises. They make just enough “progressive” moves to make themselves feel special, still claiming privileges whenever its convenient. Institutions are no different, they do exactly the same thing, pretending to be supporting and inclusive, then cut corners (and communities) when funding, opinion, or reputation is at stake.

Another point shown here is that you don’t have to be queer or genderqueer to get it. Inclusion is not a hard concept to understand and it is up to all of us, not just the freaks and weirdos, to stand up for each other.

I love you, and thank you for loving me.

University of Cincinnati Mega Fail for Queers

Posted on by JAC

I recently received an advertisement email from my Alma Mater, the University of Cincinnati, for the LGBTQ Meet and Greet. I was disturbed, but not surprised at the number of errors. Community titles were misspelled, several were un-named, and university groups names were out-dated and inaccurate. Another group hasn’t been around for almost two years.

When I was a UC student I resurrected a movement to install a university funded full time staff person for the queer community and adding queer center or queer inclusive multicultural center (their choice) to campus life. Petitions were signed with over 1,000 student, faculty, and staff signatures in support, meetings and rallies were held… This was four years ago… The fight still goes on today.

Last year an appeasement piece was offered, a space documented as a temporary space for queer students until a permanent one could be established. It is literally a closet, not big enough for more than 11 people -standing room only with no furniture that is. The “LGBTQ Center” is run by the Women’s Center, which currently holds its toe over all queer recognition and legitimacy for the University. (Can someone say problematic?) The ‘center’ holds irregular hours and is closed more than it is open. The space offers no private space for consultation with a staff person – an untrained graduate student who works out of the Women’s Center and is primarily ‘staffed’ by student volunteers who have minimal if any training in any crisis support or resource education. Additionally, and equally as important, the space has never been recognized as a safe space for queers of color or international queer students. Such a space does not exist anywhere on campus.

The Univeristy of Cincinnati and the UC Women’s Center have epically failed at supporting queer students in every sense. They cannot provide comprehensive queer education, a private community space, or a reliable, accessible resource person for students. The University of Cincinnati has no excuse for its behavior towards queer students. It is time for the school to step into the modern world and support its students as equal, valued members of the campus. I never got my queer center. How many other students must creep through their college careers never feeling included, never feeling respected, and never feeling safe?

Bloggers Note: It is worth mentioning that queer students are not the only students lacking support and space, esp. international students, many students of color, student parents, and non-traditional students.

x-posted AmplifyYourVoice.org

No More Cincinnati GenderQueers

Posted on by JAC

I have just found out that the radical, genderqueer activist organization I founded almost four years ago has reworded its description. What once described the group as “a radical queer group for all gender identities and sexualities, focusing on queer, trans, and genderqueer issues” now reads that it is a “queer social, support and activist group for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and allied students focusing on gender issues.” In the year and a half I have been gone, GenderBloc has gone from being a genderqueer and trans focused, queer radical organization to a LGBTQ social activist group… and just like the rest of the movement gender has moved from the forefront to an afterthought.

I cried when I read it.

Now the current focus of the group is “LGBTQ rights, inclusion, and visibility” and that it discusses “topics of gender a lot particularly in regards [to] those people who have a non-normative gender identity such as transgender or genderqueer.” Well, at least they talk about gender “a lot.” They wouldn’t want to leave “those people” out. They need our money and our blood to power our movement machine. They need us to die on the front lines because they are too pretty to do it. They need us to stir their souls into knowing that there is more here than what we’ve all been told… but they’ll never tell anyone about it.

I realize that this is an honest attempt to make GenderBloc better. I realize this makes GenderBloc more packagable. I realize that some people feel queer isn’t good enough and need to separate us into an acronym. I realize that there aren’t hoards of genderqueers around Cincinnati so people think we don’t need help. And I’ve finally realized that GenderBloc isn’t my baby anymore…

Someone once said to me, “I love GenderBloc is because its a place to belong for people who have never belonged anywhere.” It was one of the best things anyone has ever said to me, and I’ll always have that.

x-posted Amplifyyourvoice.org

Midwest Reality

Posted on by JAC

The open house was packed. I fought my anxious impulse to disappear, reminding myself that now it wasn’t just my responsibility to be a visible, social-activist butterfly… it was my job. I wandered my way to the middle of the mass and into a conversation with two first-years: One from D.C. and one from Northern Kentucky, near my hometown of Cincinnati. The Kentucky student and I chatted briefly about the conservative environment and the contrast Oberlin had to offer.

“Really?” the D.C. student asked. “Cincinnati is conservative?”
I stopped, amazed at the concept of someone reading the ‘Nati as a liberal space.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t think it is…” said Kentucky, “Its a city, but its a more conservative city.”
I was even surprised at this implication that all cities were automatically full of the enlightened. “Its a red city.” I said, hoping to impart the severity I was feeling. “Blood red.”
D.C.’s eyes widened brightly. “Whoa, so you’ve actually met a real republican?”

I was tempted to ask what planet these people were from. I had no idea there were people who didn’t know any conservative people personally, let alone never officially met one. I think its best put in the words of my dad. “In this city, every person you see is likely to be one of them. Every face I see I can’t help thinking “You support everything I’m against… “”

I smiled at the optimistic first year. “Met a republican?” I laughed, “Honey, down there you can’t escape ’em.”
She laughed and I smiled. On the inside, part of me brightened at the idea that there are places out there that are, theoretically, so “liberal” conservatives won’t even show face. The rest of me sunk, once again reminded that the rest of the country has forgotten about us.

x-posted on Amplify