Bi radical

Vegan Sexual: I’ve been observing the commentary going around about bisexual access...

Reblogged from idatandgaudior

vegansexy:

I’ve been observing the commentary going around about bisexual access to and participation in queer spaces, specifically bars. Observing because I feel like I have conflicting things to add and also I’m genuinely just trying to listen. My experience with gay/lesbian bars is limited, because they are a pretty decent distance from where I live (closest one is almost an hour away, there are no public queer spaces in my town). Haven’t been to a bar since I claimed edge either, so that’s around 18 months. I want to write a fucking book about how there aren’t any sober public queer spaces in much of the country (I doubt I’ll ever have access to one in my home town) but that’s for another time.

I’m seeing a lot of people write that bi people don’t have much to complain about when it comes to being openly bi (if that means being with a different gender partner, specifically) in places like gay/lesbian bars. I’m seeing people write about why it’s been hard to come out as bisexual in those spaces, even if in just context of disclosure and not making-out-openly and such, because they have faced rejection in the past. I want to elevate this latter point.

I think bisexual people are speaking from a much less shallow place than is being represented in these exchanges I’m seeing in the tag and on my dash. If we return to facts and available statistical information, bisexual people report higher levels of isolation, less connectedness to community, and higher rates of emotional illness associated with these feelings like depression than their gay and lesbian counterparts. There are many reasons for this, and feeling rejected by other queer folks is a factor.

Bisexual people, including myself, feel like we are often only conditionally supported and accepted in queer spaces. For some I suppose that’s no problem, they feel more comfortable in straight spaces regardless. But for some of us who feel at home in queer spaces, this conditional acceptance provokes a lot of anxiety. The potential for being rejected is high. And even if you have invested time and effort in building community, respecting social spaces, etc., you can still be ostracized for coming out as bi to the wrong people.

I think the question is less often, “why can’t I make out with my boyfriend at this gay bar?” (because the bisexuals in these scenarios are almost exclusively thought to be women, and the misogyny of this singular focus should alarm everyone) but is more often, “why is the validity and acceptance of my queerness conditional?”

I’m not seeing people claim that their presence in bars with different gender partners in bars being met with hostility as oppression. I am seeing people who feel constantly uneasy and unsure about their position in any social scene; many of us sure don’t feel welcome in straight spaces either. I am seeing bisexual people try to argue for access to queer spaces because they are seen as known and valid queer people, all the time. That their investment in the community, political or social or both, is always valued. 

I’m not denying there are bi folks doing shit in gay and lesbian bars that make other queer people feel unsafe or annoyed or like they can’t get some goddamn breathing room and time away from all the straight people out and about. But in my experience and in the experiences of my friends, it was frequently groups of straight women throwing bachelorette parties or openly mocking drag queens or dancers, people using transphobic slurs, or straight men acting aggressive and on guard should anyone hit on them that was the most upsetting disruption of that queer space. 

Perhaps the answer to all of this is that bisexual people need their own spaces to hang out in (GOD I FUCKING WISH). But if you knew the first thing about bisexual invisibility and erasure you’d know that we are like in this ridiculous Sisyphean cycle of accepting the label in spite of stigma, discovering each other again, doing one thing, and then everything breaking apart literally every ten years. We’ve lost (in a big way) our momentum since the 90’s and there are a million reasons for that but I wonder what places with explicit, unconditional bisexual acceptance would do for us, or what would happen if we started channeling a lot more energy and funds (wherever those are) into creating physical bisexual-only spaces. 

Another solution could just be creating more queer spaces in total. Another difficult thing to do considering that queer people are still a small segment of the population plagued by joblessness, low income, poverty, inadequate healthcare, violence, drug and alcohol dependence and abuse and cannot financially support a large number of social spaces. And, especially considering that last piece about drugs and alcohol, a solution that might address many needs at once is more sober queer spaces. One could only hope.

Anyway looking for thoughts, as always.

Thank you, Jen. You’ve said some really important things.

I also have to echo the sentiments regarding misogyny in this type of dialogue. I think we probably need to talk more about this, and about the phallocentrism of these types of arguments. But since this wasn’t really the topic of your post, maybe we’ll leave that for later.

As a whole, my response as a bi activist to this problem has been to create separate spaces for bi people, and in particular groups and parties. I do this because I don’t believe in changes from “inside” - going into queer communities and “forcing” them to accept bi people just doesn’t work so well. It creates a lot of conflict, and progression is infinitesimal - especially compared to all the energies that have to be put into the conflict and into forcing the change. Note that I’m not against conflictual activism, I actually rather like it. I just think it has to be employed in the right amounts, or else it ends up burning you out.

On the other hand, creating bisexual communities can be fabulous awesome rainbow glitter wonderfulness - especially if you do it well. Keeping in mind the fact that we’re never really isolated (it is, in many ways, bisexuals’ “nature” to pass between communities and contexts) - creating one space that is safe for bi people to be in, where we can get some breathing space, is one of the best things that can happen.

In my opinion, creating this type of space - or community - can work on several different levels: The first one is the inner-community level, meaning creating a safe space for bisexuals. It means being able to support each other, to talk about our experiences as bi people, to develop a language, politics, activism, friendship and solidarity. The second is on an LGBT-community level - once a bi community is started, it starts to gain visibility, in a way that the rest of the LGBT community can hardly ignore. Bisexuality becomes more open, more spoken, given more space not only within itself, but also in all the other spaces that members of the community occupy. And lastly, this type of community can also gain visibility on a larger scale and reach straight populations - again, because communities are never self-contained. Because once there’s a community, creation, activism and dialogue, then the message gets out.

I think that in many ways, creating such spaces is like creating ripples through water. You start small, but the community gives itself power to expand. This is what has been happening here, with my local community, and it’s been fucking great.

Your Fence Is Sitting On Me: on not criticizing monosexism inside the queer community

Reblogged from tearingdownthatfence

vegansexy:

tearingdownthatfence:

chamberlian:

jessiray:

tearingdownthatfence:

vegansexy:

kiturak:

[snip]

While I’m certainly not into claiming that “the lesbians oppress me,” which is silly and I wouldn’t do it… Yeah I have to agree. No one gets a get out of jail free card when it comes to bullshit. I kind of take the attitude of: if you don’t want to be called out, don’t do things that are shitty.

Especially don’t do things that are shitty to people who you’re supposed to be working with and who would be happy to work with you (most of the time). It’s not “oppression” per-se… I don’t like referring to my feelings with buzzwords… but I think it actually hurts a little more to be antagonized by fellow queer women. I mean straight people can be super shitty and they caused almost all the problems and continue to perpetuate them but, at the same time I expect to get shit from them. I expect them to give me a hard time and I’m prepared for it. I can emotionally deal with it because I always have. 

But when a lesbian or someone else on the LGBTQ spectrum does it, it’s just like… why? Why would you do that? Why do I offend you so much for just existing? Can’t we all just get a long? They should know better. They know how this feels coming from straight people to a GREATER DEGREE than I do. So it’s really shocking coming from inside “the community” and it really hurts. I don’t want to numb my self to my lgbt siblings like I do with hetrosexuals, I want to help them and feel solidarity with them. But at the same time, I hate feeling automatically rejected.

IDK. I know I get passing privilege at times. If I have a cis male partner, as I have had before, people treat me like I’m straight. During those times I tend to step back and take ally status. I don’t know if I should be doing that. Lately I’ve been trying real hard to think about my sexuality and what that means for me and my interaction with other people. I’ve thought about coming out to my family. I’ve thought about what I’ll do when I’m away from them and how I’ll be more active. But I won’t lie, I’ve been trying to ignore this whole fyeahbiphobia thing because it reminds me of my experience with my last lesbian girlfriend and it’s extremely upsetting and hurtful to me.

Ok I will shut up about personal stuff on this reblog chain. That was rude. I’ll be quiet now.

I think that this is really the same point that fyeahbiphobia is making.  Yes, she is more abrasive, but I think that those of us who have the stomach for it really ought to look at her blog, and put ourselves in her shoes.  Because her experiences are valid.  She is reacting to the homophobia that she has felt directed toward her from bisexuals.  Let me repeat that: she is reacting to the homophobia that she has felt directed toward herself from bisexuals.

She has the right to be angry.  She has the right to feel rejected by her own people.  We have spent the last two years on tumblr discussing our experiences of being suppressed by the rest of the queer community homosexuals.  Now it turns out that some of our own have been doing this very thing.  She has the right to be disappointed.  I’m disappointed for her. She has the right to be angry.  She has the right to write aggressive blog posts.

God knows we do.

Any right she had to be listened to by us went out the window the moment she chose the name fyeahbiphobia.

Yeah, I have looked at her blog. I have found nothing worth actually examining.

She has made it obvious that she’s not looking for dialogue every time she’s suddenly started ignoring one of us the minute we bring reasonable arguments to the table.

And no, we have no obligation to listen to someone who denies the very existence of our oppression.

You know I keep visiting that blog because I do want to lean in, I do want to challenge my defensiveness and see where I could be fucking up and where I can learn.

But if you look at the content that’s available beyond responses to asks (which is the vast majority of the blog at this point), it is all transmisogynist. The critique of bisexuals she’s advancing heavily relies on cissexism and gender essentialism and misogyny. So no, I don’t think we should expect anyone to lean in or feel like they have something to learn from her when you have to stomach all that bullshit just to get to her point. That’s fucked. No one should have to wade through transmisogyny because someone “might have a good point” and I will not take kindly to people who say we should see past something like that.

I’m deeply upset that it’s not being taken more seriously, that people who defend that blog don’t give a single fucking fuck about the transphobia both embedded and blatant woven through that entire blog.

Yes, that! Plus what angrybisexual said.

I also need to say that what chamberlian is saying sounds a lot like victim blaming to me. In particular, fyeahbiphobia has constructed a straw figure of a bi person who is “actually straight”, who appropriates lesbian culture and who then dares to accuse gays and lesbians of oppression of bi people. But this person doesn’t actually exist. As others have pointed out in this thread, the blog’s operator ignores actual bi bloggers’ arguments and instead retorts against an imagined figure that doesn’t really exist.

So far, I have not seen one bi blogger seriously arguing that gays and lesbians are responsible for the oppression of bisexuals. On the contrary - we’ve been engaging in some highly sensitive discussions about how to call out and talk about gay and lesbian biphobia without calling it oppression, and without losing sight of the fact that the great majority of monosexism (as structural oppression of bis) comes from straight society. This has been emphasized so many times by so many of us that I really don’t see how anyone could seriously forward this accusation (unless, that is, they’re setting up a straw figure, etc.).

In addition, let’s remember that fyeahbiphobia did not invent these sort of accusations and tropes. As I pointed out in another post, and another one, this is a particular brand of radfem/radscum politics that has been around for decades now. The arguments the blog’s operator uses might be particularly influenced by contemporary privilege/oppression and accountability politics, but the skeleton is the same.

I agree that we are walking a fine line here - between calling out biphobia and simultaneously being aware/wary of scapegoating and homophobia. But I think we need to remember both sides of this equation, and particularly in this case, not to lose sight of biphobia, nor to dismiss it when it dresses itself as something else.