To Male Radicals: Be a Feminist

aight, i have a confession to make. i only really started reading feminist theory in the past three months. that is, i've only recently felt like my liberation was directly tied to becoming a feminist. sure, we can all say that we are "conscious" that women are oppressed, that sexism exists, etc. but that's not really very deep at all, is it? there's nothing radical about that kind of position. i've read tons of stuff on race and class, but very little on sex & gender.

well, in the past few months my efforts to understand queer liberation have inevitably led me into the thick of women's liberation theory and struggle. and oh, how many beautiful allies and ideas i have found. viva feminism!

looking back i see how we male "radicals" have perpetuated a division between the personal and the political by not taking up feminist theory as an important part of our political education. but if we are going to get anywhere (and i mean anywhere worth fighting for) we are just gonna have to get to work. we read endlessly about capital and globalization, etc, etc. and then we might ask "how are these oppressions 'gendered' or 'sexed'?" but this isn't really constructing a feminist analysis, it's appending a gender critique to a marxist analysis. let's get at the root y'all.

and don't just personalize the struggle either. it ain't just about intra-group dynamics. the point in politicizing the personal isn't simply to have endless discussions about group dynamics. it's about power. and those with power don't just give it up. liberation is a process of the oppressed creating completely new forms of power and using them to break the old dominating forms and create a better society. the question isn't reducible to who talked the most or who is always taking notes at meetings (though that's important too). the question seems to be what new forms of power can be built.

and let's not just sit back and say "well, when the women organize themselves, then we'll follow their lead". while women's leadership and organizing is the strongest force in ending patriarchy, there's a whole hell of a lot that we can do as men and as queer men. as a start, we should get together amongst ourselves to talk about where we stand (our political positions and our power positions) on the gender question (and trust me, we don't all stand in the same place just cuz we're all male). a good discussion like this should lead to some questions that would give us a direction for research into feminist theory, which in turn could clarify our positions and reveal openings for action and change. when we locate ourselves in the power struggle and make a decision about how we want to act, then we have a real motivation for getting into feminism.

i, for one, have become skeptical of any radical who doesn't know where s/he stands in the sexual division of labor and in the struggle to transform that structure. be a feminist!

but let me add something before i go: i think male radicals who are becoming feminists should do it in action and not as an announcement. feminist practice is better than a title any day. plus, nothing is worse than a privileged person claiming to be a liberator of the oppressed. let's just get down to the work. we need to abolish patriarchy and we need feminist theory and practice to do it. so let's get crackin'!

Release

what color is the scent
of the blue weeping of violets?
Pablo Neruda, "XXIII" Book of Questions

last night i fckd up and missed my bus. seems like a small thing, no? that's what i thought. but my heart felt differently. for the next 40 minutes i sat on my bathroom floor and rocked back and forth. then i got up, lit a candle in the bedroom and turned on the "mulheres" iTunes playlist that i've been building up for 4 months with the perfect songs for the moment of breakdown (i knew back then that the day would soon arrive). the tears started flowing at india.aire's "beautiful" and by the time i had gotten to sweet honey in the rock's "wanting memories" i was too worked up to sing.

a poppy opened in my throat, raw and potent. "now the world outside is such a cold and bitter place..." i remembered Ianna told me once that a bus door closed in her face one day and she cried. everything finds its way inside and, from there, works its way out. everything. [note to self: send Rainer Maria Rilke a letter. it should begin "Dearest Rilke, Living the questions is more dangerous than I had anticipated..." it should end "if I do not survive, have someone write a melancholy-romantic love song about me in portuguese."]

i lay in my bed last night and the tears just ran. and it felt good. across my mind a slideshow of faces passed, opportunities that i had missed because i was afraid or because someone else was. it passed through me. i mourned for so many moments that had gone by without being registered fully. i mourned for parts of me that aren't with me anymore. casualties of war. and for people no longer close or no longer sane or no longer free or simply no longer. i missed my dog Densu and the arms of my first boyfriend Solomon.

mourning is essential.

Black Lesbians & the Taximan

yesterday was thanksgiving and it would have been completely unbearable if it hadn't been for my matron saints: lesbians. i was sitting at the front desk of the hotel working a double shift and looking pretty miserable when a beautiful Black woman walked by and spoke: "i like your bracelet. that's wassup!" she was referring to the rainbow bracelet that i almost never take off. i smiled back warmly.

later that night i was sinking into moody-ness again when this same woman walked in with three other gorgeous ladies. they were all laughing and carrying plates and bags full of leftovers. before i could even say hello i was invited to have dinner and it was decided that it would be had in the lobby so i could keep an eye on the front desk. i was asked where i was from, how i was doing, whether i was seeing anyone. it felt like family. in fact, it was family. Foressa, another matron saint of mine whose kept me sane here in ncarolina, talks about queer folks as 'family'.

since coming to ncarolina black lesbians have taken an active role in my life. once they realize i'm queer they take a fierce interest and concern for me. this experience is so different from my experience of the gay (male) scene in nyc which feels more like a meat market then a family/community. i hadn't realized it until yesterday, but i have never had other queer people support and encourage me so directly. it provides a model for the role that i would like to play in the lives of other queer youth of color.

today i got another supportive boost from a 'stranger in solidarity' while taking a taxi to work. i live in the student housing area and the African man named Immanuel who picked me up made it a point to ask me whether i was in school. when i told him i wasn't he asked why and proceeded to advise me on learning a trade. for 25 minutes he talked about the fluctuating labor market in the area, the Triangle area's exploding population and urban development, and the nature of immigration policy. he talked about how he often picked up Black students and asked them what they were studying. most folks, he said, were studying business admin and he told me (as he told them) that this was only training to work for the white man. that what we really needed to learn as a people were trades that we could use to run our own businesses and develop our own communities. we debated a bit back and forth about whether studying Black history in school was valuable (his argument was that we should study those things independently and should learn concerte skills in schools). his philosophy seemes like a Booker T kinda thing, but i could see the value in what he was saying.

most of all, however, what i appreciated was that he took concern for me because we shared a certain social condition. he kept calling me brother (i haven't been honestly called that by Black folks round here) and he kept emphasizing how our people had to think about trades. it was refreshing to talk to someone truly concerned about our people.

Angel says the world conspires to help you. i agree.

On Suffering: Job

Behold, I cry, ‘Violence!’ but I get no answer; I shout for help, but there is no justice...Why do the wicked still live, Continue on, also become very powerful?...They cause the poor to go about naked without clothing, And they take away the sheaves from the hungry...How then will you vainly comfort me, For your answers remain full of falsehood?...But I am not silenced by the darkness, Nor deep gloom which covers me....What you know I also know; I am not inferior to you...But I would speak to the Almighty, And I desire to argue with God.


from the Book of Job

today i spoke to Angel about my reading of the Book of Job. it was great to be talking about religion and radicalism together again (something rare in a society in which "religion" is seen as the tool of conservatives and "social science" is seen as the tool of radicals). i would like to share some of the thoughts that i expressed in that conversation here. i shall try to do it in three installments. in the first i'll talk about my reading of Job, in the second the concept of unfinished creation, and in the third the relationship of these spiritual reflections to radical social theory/practice.

[note: it's not really necessary to read the Book of Job to get an idea of what i'm saying, but it would help. anywayz...]

what i loved about Job was his audacity. in his suffering Job talked about the unjust ways that innocent people suffer and how the unrighteous amass power and wealth at their expense. reflecting on all of this, Job sought to challenge God. Job did not ask, however, how injustice could exist in a world created by a just God. rather, he sought to compel God to act. Job, who lived a righteous life, believed that this living itself constituted an argument which could compel a shift in God's relationship to humanity and the world. this is important.

many people forget that the bible is not a story about the gradual revealing of God's nature, but rather the story of a developing (that is, historical) relationship between God, people, and Creation as a whole. and it is the behavior of people--prophets, nations, prostitutes, carpenters, and kings--that leads to shifts in the God-humanity-creation relationship. this is explicitly represented in God's developing covenants with the people but is also implicit throughout the bible.

[2nd thought note: this post seemed a bit out of place. i kept wanting to edit it and i didn't want to rush the next installments. so, on second thought, i cut it and moved the complete post to my Máti wikipage on Meditations. if you wanna read the full post as well as parts 2 & 3 check the developments there.]

a Black Q is more than 'queer' could ever express

“I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,” said Alice a little timidly; “but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”

“Explain all that,” said the Mock Turtle.

“No, no! The adventures first,” said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: "explanations take such a dreadful time.”

Alice In Wonderland: The Lobster-Quadrille

what happens when a sexually repressed Black nationalist boy grows up, comes out, and drops out of school? well, it has to do with dildos, a lime tree named Jethro, broken hearts, the African Diaspora, lesbian feminists, service labor, the laughter in a fuji apple, Paulo Freire, surrealism, a lot of loneliness, cast iron cookware, and the dream and life work of a revolutionary mass movement in the United States. interested?

welcome to the Black Ineffable Q, blogsite for dispatches from yours truly, the embattled but never embittered culture queer. what's a culture queer? well it's what i became once i stopped trying to be a 'race man': a Black radical whose homoerotic desire was the key to seeing the possible in the actual. but i agree with the Gryphon, all this explaining is taking terribly long and i'm getting restless. you'll just have to follow my adventures to figure out what it all means.

down with Bill Cosbyism!
long live short-grain brown rice!