Another Consequence Of Homophobia: Overcompensation?

14 06 2013

In my and other scholars’ research, the damage of discrimination to one’s health and well-being is clear.  On top of the constraints discriminatory treatment places on one’s life chances and livelihood, victims of discrimination are furthered burdened by the blow to their sense of justice and fairness, and their well-being.  It is no surprise then that so much research focuses on discrimination as a mechanism through which social inequality is maintained.

From my personal life, exercised in my professional life but not as a topic of research, I know well about the “positive” consequences of prejudice and discrimination.  I do not mean positive as in good or desirable.  Rather, I mean the consequences that otherwise would be good or desirable if they were not the product of facing discrimination or prejudice.  I mean the sense of solidarity with fellow members of one’s oppressed group, pride in one’s identity and community, and a drive to persevere and overcome adversity.

The “Gay Tax”

I know well of the “Black tax” that I and other Black people face, having to work twice as hard to receive equal recognition.  This is because Black people are stereotyped as unmotivated, unintelligent, culturally inferior, unprofessional, and immoral.  I find myself particularly concerned with how others will evaluate me and my work.  I find myself having to give a second thought to people who don’t give me a first.  It is hard for me to let trivial slights go because I refuse to be undervalued or underestimated.

In comparing how I navigate this homophobic society as a gay man to the “Black tax,” I can discern a “gay tax” that manifests as regulating (read: suppressing) my gender and sexuality.  To minimize heterosexual men’s discomfort with my sexuality, I remain physically and emotionally distant, and “man up” my gender presentation.  To dodge religious folks’ judgement, I make as little reference to my sexuality as possible.  And, as many couples do, my partner and I are rarely affectionate in public.

All at once, I am aware of these aspects of the “gay tax,” critical of them, but pay them for my safety and well-being.

Another “Gay Tax”: Overcompensation?

But there may be another aspect to the “gay tax” that is similar to the “Black tax.”  Aware of the devalued status of lesbian, gay, and bisexual people in society, some gay men have expressed through autobiographies that they throw themselves into their work to elevate their status.  Maybe, just maybe, if you are the first gay president, the world will see you just as “the president.”

In a recent study, Pachankisa and Hatzenbuehler (2013) found support for the “best little boy in the world” thesis.  In a sample of gay and heterosexual male college students, their results suggest that gay men are more likely than heterosexual men to derive their self-worth from academics, appearance, and competition.  And, the length of time that gay men remained in the closet, and the level of homophobic prejudice and discrimination in their state, were strong predictors of the extent to which these young gay men derive their self-worth from competition.

It’s the idea that young, closeted men deflect attention from their sexuality by investing in recognized markers of success: good grades, athletic achievement, elite employment and so on. Overcompensating in competitive arenas affords these men a sense of self-worth that their concealment diminishes (from NYT review).

The downside of this “positive” consequences of the stigma gay men face is their health and well-being.  Through a nine-day diary, these gay men’s focus on elevating their status (either professionally or aesthetically) predicted long periods of isolation, interpersonal problems, unhealthy eating behaviors, and emotional distress.

All Gay Men?  What About Women?

The researchers devoted a great deal of discussion to the generalizability of their findings.  With a non-random sample of gay male college students, there is reason to worry that these findings do not translate into the experiences of all gay men, particularly those from economically disadvantaged backgrounds.  Further, the sample is overwhelmingly white.  So, in a blog post about the article, the lead author noted:

Importantly, like the authors of “best little boy in the world” narratives, the participants in our study were mostly white, middle class, college-educated men.  The extent to which possessing multiple stigmatized identities might shape self-worth remains to be seen, as does the extent to which this or a similar phenomenon applies to women.

In addition to assessing how other gay men (especially gay men of color, working-class gay men, older gay men), are affected by and respond to homophobia, one curiosity remains: what about women?

What about female sexual minorities, you might ask? “The notion of the ‘best little boy in the world’ crops up everywhere in stories about gay men’s early lives and not as much in the narratives of young lesbians,” lead researcher John Pachankis of Yeshiva University told me in an email. “That certainly doesn’t mean that women don’t experience a similar phenomenon, but only that lesbians’ personal stories don’t seem to emphasize it as much.” Exploring that particular question is a next step for research, he says.

Ironically, the language of “overcompensating” has been used in discussions of this study, but without explicit reference to the gendered notions of (men’s) overcompensation.  It may be the case that these young men are emasculated by homophobia, and they (like many men) have found some way to compensate in their effort to measure up to the rigid expectations of masculinity.  And, funny enough, many appear to set their sights on arenas that are not vehemently homophobic — academics and aesthetics.  Athletics, sex with lots of men, and big trucks do not seem to top the list of the things gay men wish to brag about.  So, this raises some interesting (unaddressed) questions about gay masculinity.

That’s Me!

Ah, yet another study where I, as a scholar, am humbled to reminded that I am a human, equally affected by the social world as everyone else.  In his NY Times article, federal lawyer Adam D. Chandler echoed some of these sentiments:

But seeing your reflection in an empirical study has its drawbacks. The flip side of discovering you’re not alone is the melting of your presumed snowflake uniqueness. Now I’m a statistic, another data point, just an ordinary overachieving closet case.

That’s bad enough. What’s worse is that the biography is half finished. They haven’t told me what’s on the other side of the closet door. Once I’m no longer harboring my secret, will I lose my drive? Or will my lifelong trophy hunt expand to include a search for a trophy husband?

I don’t know the answers. But I’m ready to find out.

Toward (Some Of) The Answers

Like any manifestation or consequence of oppression, a starting point is becoming aware of this drive to overcompensate.  This is yet another aspect of the homophobic reality gay men note and challenge in raising our gay consciousnesses.  And, I can provide (some of) the answers Chandler wants.

In a general sense, strong social support will help to minimize some of the distress.  And, having multiple roles or other important, ongoing tasks, events, affiliations, relationships, etc. is beneficial as well.  We do ourselves a disservice as gay men by isolating ourselves — that’s the opposite of seeking social support and others like us (as well as supportive allies).  By focusing narrowly on elevating our status, we place so much stock into too few things, leaving us vulnerable to having our entire self-worth tank when those aspects of our status do not go well.

But, more specific to gay men is a strong, positive gay identity and connection to the LGBT community that helps to buffer the harmful effects of our exposure to prejudice and discrimination.  While inevitable, how we respond to these stressful aspects of homophobic oppression can reduce their impact to our health — namely, challenging discriminatory treatment and confiding in trusted others about these experiences rather than accepting and repressing them.  And, rejecting (rather than internalizing) the homophobic prejudice and stereotypes of our society, and general self-acceptance are crucial for our well-being.  I recommend (again) Dr. Crystal Fleming‘s advice on rejecting others’ stereotypes and hatred.

The lead author of the study, a psychologist, offered the following recommendations:

Our research also reveals some important lessons for young gay men’s health and well-being.  The results of our research suggest that gay men take careful stock of the extent to which their self-worth derives from seeking status from domains like being the best, looking the best, or earning high grades or lots of money.  If gay men do recognize that their self-worth comes from those domains, they might consider the health costs of doing so.  Do they experience trouble in relationships with others, such as frequent arguing or spending lots of time alone?  Will they compromise personal values to attain status?  Are they chronically stressed or engaging in unhealthy habits, like going to the gym to an unhealthy degree or restricting their food intake?

If gay men answer “yes” to any of these questions, it will first be important to recognize that these difficulties are not personal failings and may have their source in stigma and the early lessons learned from growing up in a stigmatizing world.  Psychotherapy with a compassionate, gay-affirmative therapist can help gay men understand the legacy of experiencing early stressors like hiding one’s sexual orientation during adolescence or growing up in homophobic environments.  For many gay men, the negative effects of these early experiences may not be obvious at first, but can nonetheless be successfully addressed with supportive help from friends or professionals.

In understanding this “gay tax” as a stressor unique to gay men (similar to the “tax” that other oppressed groups face), I also recommend mental health service that treat patients who are gay as gay patients.  That is, care that understands the unique needs and experiences of gay people, rather than treating them as interchangeable with any other patient.  I strongly recommend The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing Up Gay in a Straight Man’s World

Oh, and eliminating homophobic prejudice and discrimination helps, too!





Link Roundup: Equality And Diversity In Academia

13 06 2013

Later this summer, I will be joining my colleagues in sociology for our annual national conference, hosted by the American Sociological Association.  This year’s theme is “Interrogating Inequality: Linking Micro and Macro.”  I am pleased to see that this focus on inequality — really the core topic of most sociological research — includes some inward reflection, as well.  Two sessions caught my eye:

  1. “Revisiting the 2003 ASA Race Statement,” a thematic session that asks whether we should continue to examine race and ethnicity in sociological research on inequality.  Scheduled for Sunday, August 11th, 10:30am-12:10pm.  Featuring panelists Nancy Lopez, David R. Williams, Michael Omi, Lynn Weber, Felice J. Levine, Roberta M. Spalter-Roth, and Deborah K. King.
  2. “Interrogating Inequalities within Sociology,” a thematic session that “will showcase critical analysis of inequality about sociology and its effects on our paradigms, concepts, methods, and findings.”  We, as a discipline, are stronger when sociologists of diverse backgrounds and perspectives are included and equally valued.  This panel, co-sponsored by the Committee on the Status of Women in Sociology, features Alenxadra Kalev, Eduardo Bonilla-Silva, Joey Sprague, Roberta M. Spalter-Roth, Rodney D. Coates, and Erin Leahey.

I have also come across a number of stories in the past few weeks on the status of equality and diversity in academia in general.





On Sexism And Sociology: Who Is Dorothy Swaine Thomas?

3 06 2013

Most sociologists know the adage that is fundamental to (much of) sociological thought — “If men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences” — the Thomas theorem.  It is so widely known and used that few actually cite the original source, noting simply, “according to W. I. Thomas…”

I looked to formally cite this notion in my dissertation, which meant having to search for the source.  So easily found: The Child in America: Behavior Problems and Programs (1928) by William Issac Thomas and Dorothy Swaine Thomas.

Who Is Dorothy Swaine Thomas?

Wait – what?  Never in my life had I heard of Dorothy Swaine Thomas.  It seemed odd that the second of only two others is rarely, if ever, cited when referencing the Thomas theorem.  Is it really that hard to say “Thomas and Thomas” or “Thomas et al.” or “the Thomases”?  I figured the mystery surrounding author number two had something to do with her being a woman academic in the early twentieth century.

I decided to do some digging to see who Dorothy Swaine Thomas is, and whether others had taken note on the conspicuous absence of her contribution to this important sociological theorem.  I thought others may have been wary of her contribution because she was seen as an assisting author, particularly as William’s wife, than a “legitimate” co-author.  Maybe she is otherwise irrelevant in terms of sociological research, theory, and knowledge.

Simply clicking her name on the Amazon page for The Child in America, I saw that she published upwards to 30 books.  Okay, so she is hardly irrelevant, even by the least generous standards.  (By all means, even co-publishing one pivotal book counts as relevant in my mind, but others may have higher standards of “relevance” to the discipline.)

Digging deeper, I saw that she was actually quite influential in sociology, as well as demography.  She began publishing research as early as age 22, and had her PhD by age 25.  She was the first woman professor at the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania.  And, she served as the first woman President (and, earlier, Vice President) of the American Sociological Association, and also served as President of the Population Association of American.

Let’s call it what it is: she was an academic badass.  Of special personal interest: “Although Thomas considered herself a social activist, [her adviser William] Ogburn persuaded her to become a ‘scientist,’ which in sociology meant a quantitative, preferably statistical approach to social issues” (from the Blackwell Encyclopedia of Sociology online).

So, I am left wondering why I had never heard or read about Thomas prior to my own search.  Especially because:

Thomas’s contributions to sociology were nonetheless substantial. Her high standards and clear thinking helped professionalize a discipline criticized for its armchair theorizing, jargon, and do-goodism. Despite the controversy that surrounded the Evacuation and Resettlement study, the Supreme Court later accepted it as a major resource in documenting a national wrong perpetrated by the government against its citizens.

The quantitative work Thomas pioneered helped gain sociology foundation support and provided a beachhead for women who might otherwise have been excluded from university positions. For her contributions to demography the University of Pennsylvania awarded Thomas an honorary degree in 1970 (from Blackwell).

On Sexism And Sociology

A good guess would be sexism.  Though she was successful, her career was not without the constraints of sexism:

Job prospects were also not encouraging. Although women of Thomas’s generation were earning doctorates in sociology in increasing, if still relatively small numbers through the late 1920s, these graduates were effectively excluded from jobs in university sociology departments through a pattern of formal rules and informal understandings.

Unfortunately, some of her success came with the dilemma that many women scholars continue to face – the tension between authenticity and success/relevance:

Thomas experienced the pressures of being scrutinized by members of an overwhelming majority, however kindly disposed. As a result, she not only shared the outlook, the professional ethos, and the passion for objectivity of Ogburn and other male objectivists, but was one of the most ardent practitioners of their brand of sociology. Otherwise, she would almost certainly not have realized the success she did.

At the same time, had she not had so constantly to prove her professionalism and objectivity, she might not have remained wedded to so narrow a conception of her discipline, might have produced richer and more valuable insights into human behavior and perhaps even a body of theoretical work more to modern taste. Viewed in this way, Thomas’s sex exacted a toll for the very reasons that she was so eminently successful in overcoming the limitations it imposed.

The Erasure Of Thomas’s Contributions

These constraints aside — blocked job opportunities, and the way “trading power for patronage” shaped her career — there appears to be some erasure of Thomas’s contribution to sociology.  In a review 244 introductory sociology textbooks (1945-1994) to assess citations of The Child in America, particularly for the Thomas’ theorem, R. S. Smith (1995) noted:

There  I was surprised to discover that W. I. Thomas was not the sole author of [The Child in America]; rather it was co-authored by Dorothy Swaine Thomas..  It was this experience that started me thinking about all the times I had seen [the theorem] quoted but had never once come across Dorothy Swaine Thomas’s name (p12-3).

Most of the textbooks that cited the “Thomas theorem” merely credited W. I. Thomas.  So, why is Dorothy’s work ignored?  Apparently, she was primarily responsible for the book’s data collection and analyses.  But, those parts are central to the book.  While she later penned a letter that suggested William was the “brains” behind the theorem, the letter’s 1991 publication in International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences fails to explain why she was rarely credited for the theorem from 1928 through the mid-1970s.

Unfortunately, the erasure of her contributions, as well as those of other women scholars, has a “ripple effect.”  I seriously doubt that my professors fail to credit Dorothy Swaine Thomas intentionally; rather, they failed to teach me about her because they never learned about her.  Her invisibility is further spread through introductory textbooks.  If it were not for accidentally “discovering” her, I, too, would likely perpetuate her erasure by overlooking her work in my classes.

A(nother) Call For The Sociology of Sociology

As I have written in earlier posts, sociology, and academia in general, is not immune to the biases of society.  But, what may have been intentional exclusion or erasure nearly a century ago (and, to be honest, even more recently) continues on as innocent ignorance.  This is inexcusable.

The erasure of “people like us” does marginalized scholars a disservice because it paints the picture that we have had little role in shaping academia and knowledge.  And, many of the names and legacies that have survived efforts to exclude and erase, as well as innocent “amnesia,” are often stripped of personhood.  For example, some sociological “greats” like W. E. B. DuBois are stripped of their activism and radical politics, characterized, instead, as cooperative, mainstream (apolitical) sociologists.

But, for all of academia, this supposed “amnesia” seems like a detriment to the advancement of knowledge.  Whole scholarly contributions have either been outright blocked, or eventually lost over time.  Who knows whether we are “reinventing the wheel,” missing crucial insights that had once been put forth and lost?

Again, I call for a sociology of sociology, where we turn our critical lens back on our field.  In many ways, exclusion and discrimination are still at play.  And, there are whole careers and specific studies, theories, and insights that are lost in the past.  Besides liberating these scholars and their work from academic “amnesia,” it may also be worth revisiting other “classic” work through a contemporary lens.  (Full disclosure, I remain wary of giving full credit to handful of dead middle-class white men to pen the theories of society.)

To be fair, this line of work would still be a bit too “navel-gazey” for my tastes to pursue as my primary research.  But, I remain intrigued enough to do my own homework in my free time (and, obviously blog about it).  If anything, I would like to know the herstory of the field I love, with specific attention to the stories that are not told, and to those scholars who are not celebrated as the “fathers of sociology.”

I certainly encourage others to reflect more on the past (and present) of our discipline and the academy as a whole.  At a minimum, I hope others take from this inspiration to credit the other Thomas (i.e., Dorothy Swaine) for the Thomas theorem.





A Recent Test Of My Bystander Intervention

2 06 2013

I have done some work in the past to advance bystander intervention approaches to sexual assault prevention.  In the days that I volunteered at Middle Way House, a local intimate partner violence and rape crisis shelter, I compiled a review of bystander intervention curricula, hopefully to extend MWH’s own anti-sexual violence curriculumHere, and at Kinsey Confidential, I have written about bystander intervention, as well — including using the approach to eliminate racism and its consequences.

I really like the notion of bystander intervention because it moves beyond victim-blaming, to place both the problem and the solution on society.  For sexual violence, this means recognizing the way that sexism purports an ideology that characterizes women as sex objects, and is manifest in organizations that promote or facilitate sexual violence.  It is much harder to focus exclusively on the perpetrator’s intentions (“maybe he got carried away”) or even the victim’s “guilt” when these incidents occur within a rape culture.  I see it as the missing complement to understanding social problems sociologically — that we must see the solutions as society’s responsibility, as well.

A Recent Test

A few days ago, I heard screaming from a nearby apartment.  Being nosy, I peeped out of my window to see what all of the commotion was.  I could locate the screaming to an apartment where a couple (I presume) argued.  I could make out some of what they said — something about a misplaced cellphone and, apparently, misplaced blame for its disappearance.  I watched as long as my fleeting interest held.

But, I felt that the arguing was quite heated.  I began to worry that it might develop into something worse.  It did.  “What did you say to me?  WHAT DID YOU SAY?” the man demanded.  Short of anything physical, this kind of verbal threat concerns me; it’s tone is hostile and intent is likely meant to scare the recipient.  And, through the small gap in their blinds, I could she him shake the woman and then push her against the wall.  Panic set in.  “I have got to do something,” I thought to myself.

First, I called 911.  The dispatcher calmly asked, “is it still just verbal at this point?”  Good – another concerned neighbor beat me to calling.  “No, he just pushed her against the wall.”  The police were sent to respond.  I felt my bystander intervention advocacy tested.  Do I run over, especially if it becomes more violent?  (How could I live with knowing something worse happened if I didn’t act?)  No, I have to live here for a while longer; my partner’s and my own safety cannot be overlooked.  I decided to call and text friends and family who either work in violence prevention or law enforcement — “what else can I do?”  That was it.  They all assured me that it was in the police department’s hands now.

The police did arrive soon after.  I could hear their knock at the front door; a dog began barking.  Fortunately, their arguing had settled slightly after I called 911, though the times of silence were no more settling for fear he had further hurt her.  I could not see or hear anything for a few minutes after the police arrived.

Then, the man, shirtless, darted behind the building.  I do not know whether he dashed passed the police, or even jumped from the second-floor apartment patio.  One police officer walked slowly behind him.  Then, I could hear police interviewing the woman, though it sounded as though they were badgering her.  She left with them to her own apartment.  After a while, the three police cars parked at the edge of the woods, which he ran into, left.  I was a little unsettled by a perpetrator being on the loose, so I peeked out every once in a while.  I noticed a police officer remained behind, probably to apprehend him if he returned.

The Aftermath

I had considered notifying my apartment complex about the incident.  But, I was not sure what would come of it.  Coincidentally, they emailed me the next day about a maintenance request I had not put in.  So, I let them know then.  With an apology for the disturbance, they let me know was evicted; he had that day to leave or be forced out by a Sheriff the next week.  I heard a commotion early the next week.  I presume he did not go willingly. But, he is gone for good.  But, the arguing suggests he was probably with his girlfriend/wife as he moved out.  This is what worried me.

Yes, I am relieved he was evicted.  It turns out this was the third time police have come for him.  And, I realized it was the second intimate partner violence incident within a week.  The previous weekend, I heard a woman’s frantic screams, but police were already involved so I did not investigate further.  Another nosy neighbor said to her boyfriend as they passed me, “I don’t know why she would scream that much about a broken window.”  She was probably screaming in sheer terror because this man, her boyfriend/husband who has a history of attacking and terrorizing her, was coming after her (again).  (This is my point about the problem of culture.  These people dismissed her as overreacting and never thought about her or him again.)

He is gone from this neighborhood, but who knows whether he moved in with her.  She is not out of harms way.  If their relationship ends, he may continue to perpetrate violence against others (and may already be doing so).

Bystander InterventionS

This, of course, was not the first time I have been tested.  There are many ways in which I have had, and sometimes taken, the opportunity to intervene in preventing violence and its consequences.  For, intervening is not merely about the immediate violent situation.  I can intervene by challenging comments and jokes that justify, glorify, or ignore violence.  I can support victims of violence, even as simply as offering emotional support, saying “I believe you” and “this is not your fault”; if they allow, and I am equipped to do so, I can offer resources to leave on-going violent situations or rebuild their lives.  I can work to educate others, especially to see violence as a social problem and prevention as a community responsibility.

I still do not feel that I did enough.  But, in the grand scheme, I did as much as I could safely do, and I continue to work on violence prevention at broad level.  The situation forced the reminder that my gift is in education, in research, in disseminating knowledge, and speaking out in general.  It is important that I do my part from these strengths and my own perspective, rather than trying to be superman.  And, I hope others will (continue to) do their part, as well.





[kinsey] April Is Sexual Assault Awareness Month (SAAM) – Are We Aware Yet?

22 04 2013

This was originally posted at Kinsey Confidential.

There is still a little over a week left in April – Sexual Assault Awareness Month (SAAM).  This is our annual 30-day-long recognition of a problem that affects far too many people, especially girls and women: sexual violence.  The primary goals of the month is to raise awareness about sexual violence and, ultimately, eliminate it all together.

With nearly forty years of anti-sexual violence activism — are we aware yet?  Unfortunately, not so much.

What Is Sexual Violence?

An important starting point for raising awareness about sexual violence is to define it.  A major focus of sexual violence prevention is on sexual assault, which is typically defined as any sexual contact with a person without their consent, through coercion, or by force.

Because of inconsistent definitions in the law, especially from state to state, non-consensual sex is sometimes referred to as rape.  Some distinguish rape from sexual assault to include any non-consensual sexual acts that involve penetration.

While these distinctions are important, at least for legal purposes, they are not inclusive of other unwanted sexual acts.  So, advocates have pushed for recognition of the full range of such acts under the broad umbrella of sexual violence.  This broader category includes:

Attention to sexual violence, as a broad class of non-consensual sexual acts, also allows for attention to victims who are often overlooked, including boys and men.

The Basis Of Sexual Violence

Next, it is important to understand what sexual violence is based upon.  Sexual violence is an expression of power.  It is a tool that is used to physical, mentally, and/or emotionally control another person.  It is not an expression of sexual desire.

In understanding sexual violence this way, the myths that someone simply goes over board, gets carried away, or that their hormones got out of control are dispelled.

Beyond Individuals

By “power,” I am referring primarily to the social hierarchies, which place members of our society either at a high or low status.  Most attention has been paid to sexual violence as an expression of sexism.  In particular, women are afforded lower status and less power in society than men.  There are various things that some men do to further limit women’s status or disempower them, or even take advantage of them, including sexual violence.

So, it is important to look beyond what, on the surface, appears to be a private, individual act of sexual violence.  For example, the seemingly personal acts of acquaintance rape  and spousal rape are fundamentally political because they serve as an express of sexism.  But, sexual violence may also be based on other systems of oppression, including racism, homophobia, transphobia, classism, ageism, ableism, and fatphobia.

Sexual Violence And Oppression

But, sexual violence is not merely an expression of one or more of these systems of inequality.  It is also influenced and justified by them.  For example, sexism includes the rigid control of women’s bodies and sexualities, the sexual objectification of girls and women, and so forth.  This creates a dynamic where girls and women are vulnerable to sexual violence, and in which some men feel entitled to women’s bodies.

When women are victimized, the act is justified by stereotyping men as naturally oversexed and women as asexual, or by blaming the victim.  Alternatively, others may turn a blind eye, or even deny that it occurred.

Also, sexual violence actually reinforces these systems of oppression.  Again, using the example of sexism, women’s subordinate status to men, and constrained opportunities and well-being are partly the artifact of sexual violence.  Some reports suggest 1 in 4 women are survivors of rape or sexual assault, and, thereafter are at risk for facing various health problems.  Even more women live in fear that they may be victimized (or revictimized).

Sexual Violence As A Social Problem

Reflecting the systematic component of oppression, sexual violence is not a random occurrence.  And, all members of society do not share an equal chance of being victimized.  Women make up 90 percent of survivors of sexual violence.  In addition, there is evidence that repeat perpetrators of sexual violence account for most acts of sexual assault and rape.

Sexual violence, then, reflects a society-wide problem.  Further, some social organizations and institutions play a role, either by 1) ignoring such acts, 2) failing to support survivors and protect victims from further harm, 3) failing to punish perpetrators, 4) condoning these acts, and/or 5) facilitating sexual violence.  For example, colleges and universities have been criticized for (unintentionally) creating space for rampant sexual violence on campuses.  Recently, more and more schools have come under fire for doing too little in response to sexual violence, or even discouraging reports of victimization.

Culturally, how we talk about sexual violence (or not) contributes to the problem.  Too often, in everyday conversations, the media, pop culture, and so forth, jokes are made about rape and sexual assault, victims are blamed for their own victimization, and perpetrators are excused for actions.  In fact, many have argued that we live in a rape culture because sexual violence and the cultural norms that condone it are so pervasive.

Another facet to this is the harassment and bullying that survivors face for reporting their victimization, and their and allies’ public anti-sexual violence activism.  In other words, some victims and allies who speak out face a backlash, which aims to silence them.  A strong effort is made to keep sexual violence invisible, or at least seem like isolated, random, private acts.

Sexual Violence Prevention As A Community Responsibility

Because sexual violence is such a huge, widespread problem, no one person can stop it alone.  That is why many anti-sexual violence advocates are pushing for bystander intervention – a call for others to fight against sexual violence.  This includes:

  1. Intervening when sexual violence occurs if it is safe to do soFor example, this can mean alerting a teacher if your friend confides in you that she is being molested by her uncle (and she agrees to have you tell the teacher).  Or, making sure your friend, who is very drunk, gets home to his own bed after a party.  Or, letting your coworker know that whistling at women on the street is a form of harassment and encourage him to stop.
  2. Supporting victims and survivors of violence.  One of the most important things to do is ensure them that you hear them and believe them.  (Unfortunately, they may be doubted by others, and face the broader victim-blaming norms in society.)  Ask them how you can help them.  And, ask them whether they wish to report their victimization (e.g., to the police).  It is okay to encourage them to pursue either support for themselves or punishment for the perpetrator, but ultimately they can choose not to and you should respect that.
  3. Challenging victim-blaming and other aspects of our rape culture.  For example, speak up when you hear rape jokes or “slut-shaming.”  Or, write to media outlets or politicians who perpetuate these problems.  Or, join an anti-sexual violence campaign or organization.  Participate in your own or the nearest college’s Take Back the Night rally and other anti-sexual violence events.
  4. Educate yourself and others.  For example, help to raise awareness about what sexual violence is, how it is a society-wide problem, and what we can all do to prevent it.  Have frank, yet age-appropriate conversations with your children, students, or other young people about consent.
  5. Break the silence about sexual violence.  This goes for allies and, if they feel safe and comfortable, survivors of sexual violence.  This means bringing up the subject when opportunities arise, or even making those opportunities happen.  My own approach is to blog and cover sexual violence in the courses I teach.  While it may be difficult in some ways, I find that men who are allies to survivors can have great impact in speaking up about sexual violence.

Indeed, we are not there yet in having a good understanding of sexual violence and why it persists.  But, hopefully, we will at least be closer by next year’s Sexual Assault Awareness Month!  And, of course, our collective efforts should not be limited to the month of April.

Additional Resources

 





My Kind of Sociology! Toward A Self-Defined Activist-Academic Career

17 04 2013

DangerBeing forced to watch the  world whirl by me as I worked on my dissertation was tortuous: two cases on same-gender marriage heard by the US Supreme Court; horrendous media coverage of an already horrendous rape case in Steubenville, Ohio; a racist attempt at anti-racism in music.  And, just as I came up for air, the good news of finishing was overshadowed by the tragic bombings in Boston.  I tried by best to keep up, but, obviously, I have been way too busy to chime in.

But, one good thing has come out of the selfish time of dissertating — well, besides an awesome dissertation.  My mind has been boiling over with questions about research and academia in general.  In attending college, I learned; but, now (almost) with a PhD in hand, I see how I have learned how to learn.  And, increasingly, that critical eye has turned back on itself, raising questions about knowledge and science.

What is “knowledge”?  What is “science”?  Who defines it?  Who has access to it (and who doesn’t)?  Are the multiple types of knowledge and science — and, if so, are they equally valued in academia and society in general?

On Activism And Academia

As I near the completion of my graduation training, I feel both more qualified as a scholar, but also more empowered in defining my scholarship for myself.  And, I will tell you, the latter sentiment is largely a product of self-teaching, not so much my graduate program.  I alluded to this in my essay on blogging as a form of intellectual activism.

I have received mixed reactions to my essay, “Blogging For (A) Change.”  Initially, many were excited, supportive, and noted that they share my sentiments.  I was not surprised, since these warm responses were coming from my primary, intended audience — fellow sociologists of color and anti-racist sociologists.  (It was an essay for the ASA‘s Section on Racial and Ethnic Minorities.)  But, given its potential relevance to all scholars, I also provided the essay as a blog post.

Thereafter, I began to receive more cautioned responses.  In addition to private exchanges, I was honored to be the subject of another blog post by Dr. Fabio Rojas: “why activism and academia don’t mix.”  Fabio explains:

Why do we “beat [activism] out’ of graduate students?  The answer, in my view, is that academia and activism are simply different things. Every activity has a bottom line. In politics, it’s votes. In business, it’s money. In religion, it’s souls. Activism is about promoting social change, which is a different bottom line than academia, which is knowledge generation.

Beyond the differences in the goals of academia and activism, Fabio notes that the latter is neither rewarded nor institutionally sanctioned within the former.  And, he clarifies that, ultimately, academics do have a role in social change — the production of knowledge.  A few other sociologists chimed in with comments to emphasize that the commitment of a scholar of color to the advancement of one’s community or people of color in general does not necessarily imply that one is an activist.

Fearing that I may have been mistaken in speaking for other scholars of marginalized backgrounds, I posed the question on Facebook: “Was I wrong in assuming many academics are also activists, even at heart?”  For the most part, my scholarly friends suggested no, with many suggesting that they, too, are activists.  But, there seems to be good reason for the skepticism that some have expressed.

Activism And Academia Can Mix, But…

Let me start by removing the question –  “can one be an academic and an activist?” — from the table.  Yes, it is possible.  There are a handful of people who have suggested that this is the case for them; I strongly suspect that there is at least a sizable minority of scholars for whom this is true.

DuBoisAnd, history suggests that it has been done.  In the last subject of my leisure reading, Stalking the Sociological Imagination, I was reminded that some of the founders of sociology were activists, including W. E. B. DuBois and C. Wright Mills.  (Some who are discussed — for example, Talcott Parsons — were simply the unfortunate subject of McCarthyism despite maintaining a generally non-activist career in sociology.)  Before that, I was reading Dr. Patricia Hill Collins‘s On Intellectual Activism.

But, as Fabio pointed out, activism — here, meaning any efforts toward social justice or social change outside of research, teaching, and (academic) service — is not rewarded in academe.  For most academic jobs, one is hired because of their qualifications in this academic “Holy Trinity” – research, teaching, and service (usually in that order, especially at research intensive schools).  The same goes for tenure, promotion, and most of the other academic opportunities that scholars pursue (e.g., grants, awards).

But, let’s be clear that the sentiment that one shouldn’t be an activist is a separate matter from whether one can be an activist.  In addition, lack of professional reward implies what is valued, not necessarily what is devalued.  You can be a drag queen, baseball player, stamp collector, or whatever other activities you like outside of work even though the academy will not pay you for it.

Activism And Science Can Mix, But…

A second issue is whether activism and science, in particular, mix.  As one of my friends pointed out, the primary concern is that the biases of someone with activist leanings pose a threat to the objectivity required in science.  For example, if a researcher wishes to advocate for the legalization of same-gender marriage, what would she do if her research suggested that children of LGBT parents really do fare worse than those of heterosexual, cisgender parents?  But, a few things need to be unpacked from the science vs. activism dilemma:

First, sorry folks — “objective science” is an oxymoron.  Humans, who are biased in all sorts of ways (e.g., passions, interests, experiences), do science.  Scientists typically study the things they find interesting or about which they are passionate.  Sometimes we get sleepy and make mistakes.

This is where the peer review process comes in.  While it is not perfect. we gain more confidence when new studies have been vetted by other scholars in that subfield.  When done right, a researcher should be well aware of prior research to aid in research design, analyses, and interpretation.  The roles of anonymous reviewers and the journal’s editor(s) are to verify all aspects of the study.  So, if a researcher submitted a study heavily laden with political motivations, with little sound science or major ethical concerns, the reviewers and editor should catch it before it gets published.

A third issue is the failure to acknowledge other problematic biases in research that do little for society as a whole.  In particular, I am referring to the “publish or perish” dictum that places great emphasis on where one’s articles are published, and how many publications one can obtain in a certain period of time.  Not only do I worry that this pressure poses a threat to scholars’ health and well-being, I sometimes fear that scholars’ motivations for prestige and quantity lead them to overlook bigger contributions to theory and to society in general.

Another unspoken consequence of this pressure is the number of studies that have been tweaked or totally abandoned because researchers yield “null findings” — for, it is the significant findings that get you published!  My point here is that science is not perfect, whether activists are doing research or not.

Activism, Academia, And Research Can Mix, And…

phcI argue that it is important to weigh the benefits of the mixing of activism and academia, too, before we jump to a decision on this mixture.  If activism reflects one’s passion for a particular social or political cause, then the work of activist-oriented scholars may benefit academia on the whole because of their unique motivation about the subject and the extra care they take in their work.  In addition, this activist flare may bring a creative lens to one’s scholarship.  Just think of where the social sciences be if Patricia Hill Collins never pursued an academic career, deciding instead to continue working toward educational reform.  Would some other sociologist have applied and extended Kimberlé Crenshaw‘s legal scholarship on intersectionality?

Indeed, for some scholars (myself included), one’s research, teaching, and service are interdependent.  There is a sort of synergy among these three components of our scholarship that is greater than the sum of research + teaching + service.  For example, I experienced a great sense of mutual influence among my research (discrimination and health, LGBT health), teaching, and my work as a co-facilitator for “Boyfriend Lessons” — a series of workshops for bisexual, trans, and gay young men on health and well-being (particularly sexual health).  I brought to the latter insights from others’ and my own research to articulate how the health of queer men is shaped and constrained within a bi-, trans-, and homophobic context.  These insights have also been articulated in my blogging for Kinsey Confidential.  When I taught Sexual Diversity in 2009-2010, I often shared my Kinsey Confidential blog posts, as well as news of current events, to spark discussion and “warm up” the class for the day’s lecture.  My teaching, my service to the community, as well as my personal experiences and interpersonal connections, in turn, have influenced my research.

But, this comes with full knowledge that service that is not serving the academy does not “count” professionally.  And, again, I stress the importance of the peer review process for publishing research.  How I get to the research process in the first place, and what I do with research once it’s published are undeniably influenced by my commitment to social justice.  While it also influences how I do research, I based my decisions and interpretations on existing theory and research, and have my work vetted by other scholars, just like my non-activist colleagues.

Now, About The Elephant In The Room…

I keep harping on the matter of science, despite its imperfections, because there are some ways in which academia and activism do not mix.  Well, there is one big way, and that is when scholars shirk standards of ethical, empirically- and theoretically-based science all together.

The scandal surrounding a 2012 study by University of Texas Austin sociologist, Mark Regnerus, has been at the background throughout my public dialogue on activism and academia.  Since this story first emerged as I entered the job market, I decided to stay silent on the scandal.  And, even once I secured a job, things had grown to a level that I felt it was best to let those protected by tenure to chime in.  But, this case is likely the example of the concern that skeptics have raised.

Besides my fear of professional consequences, a further complication is the concern that calls for academic freedom must acknowledge that the political pendulum swings both ways.  If I wish to have more space for scholars to blog, speak to the media, and use their research for public “good,” I must recognize that some will be doing so for causes that are not my own, or are even counter to mine.  Sure, Regnerus should be free to blog (as he does), no matter his conservative views.

But, this case stands out because there is evidence that he did not draw upon existing theory and research throughout his research design (namely, how he defined “families with lesbian parents“).  Further, to some extent, the peer review process was usurped.  Even if this paper was not used in political efforts to oppose same-gender marriage, this is simply bad science.

The harmful mix of this bad science and his conservative activism is further apparent in the use of this study (which should have been retracted all together) to encourage the US Supreme Court to deny legal recognition of same-gender couples.  Even when the American Sociological Association spoke for the discipline to say there is no empirical evidence to cause concern for the well-being of children of LGBT parents, he co-signed on an amicus brief that said otherwise, largely based on his and another flawed study.  Unfortunately, his singular voice and study were reframed in the actual SCOTUS case as evidence that sociologists have yet to reach a consensus on LGBT families.

Bad science + activism = public harm.  The peer review process should have prevented the study from ever being published.  And, in being responsible scholars, greater effort should have been made to balance supposed mixed findings: 50 studies say X, but, there is one that says not X; here’s why we the latter study is important (or not).  (The ASA brief did this, and further stressed why Regnerus’s study is flawed and irrelevant to LGBT families.  Regnerus et al. did not do this in their brief to the Supreme Court.)

I believe that scholars can be activist-academics or activist-leaning academics or academics from 9-5 and activists on the weekends.  But, this is with the caveat that scholars should be responsible and ethical in how they do research and what they do with it, and how they teach and on what topics, how they serve academic and non-academic communities.

Academia Needs Activism

A final point on the activism-academia mixture is that they need each other.  Activists need the work of researchers to make a case for social change, particularly to change laws and policies.  Researchers, in turn, benefit from their work being carried beyond the pay-walls of academic journals.

But, beyond the notion of active activists and passive academics who simply do science and produce knowledge, academia benefits from activist efforts to bust down barriers to the ivory tower.  Despite his undeniable contributions to sociology, W. E. B. DuBois was not welcomed into the discipline because he was Black.  Eventually fed up with the racism of sociology and the academy in general, he turned more exclusively to activism, co-founding the NAACP.

Recently, I have learned of other marginalized scholars who were either kept out or whose contributions were ignored. Today, I began reading Imagine a World: Pioneering Black Women Sociologists.  I am embarrassed to admit that I have never heard of the five Black women sociologists featured in the book: Jacquelyne Johnson Jackson, LaFrancis Rodgers-Rose, Joyce A. Ladner, Doris Wilkinson, and Delores P. Aldridge.  But, considering that the discipline has not been (and still is not) immune to the prejudices and discriminatory practices of the outside world, why would I?

THOMASThe most mind-blowing revelation I have had on this matter is the obvious erasure of Dorothy Swaine Thomas.  She co-authored a book with W. I. Thomas, from which “his” famous quote comes: “If men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences” (Thomas and Thomas 1928: 572).  Yet, Dorothy is rarely given credit for the “W. I. Thomas quote.”  Sadly, what was originally outright sexism that drove the discipline to erase her contribution, my generation of scholars is never taught about her just because our teachers do not know otherwise.

These revelations have fueled my aforementioned interests in the sociology of knowledge and sociology of science.  It is a scary thought that what is taken as Truth is based on science done overwhelmingly by privileged scholars (i.e., middle-class white men) sometimes based on samples that do not reflect members of marginalized groups.  Marginalized scholars are excluded or their work is undermined (sometimes as a result of the exclusion).  For example, there is a slow growth of studies on sexuality published in the top journals in sociology, yet such scholarship published in sexuality journals is regarded as unimportant to mainstream sociology or it is dismissed as “mesearch” if conducted by an LGBT scholar.  (Because the work white middle-class men do, even on themselves, is Objective Science and Truth.)

It is unsurprisingly to me, then, that some minority scholars who were initially interested studying their communities (for their advancement or liberation) end up doing work on the sociology of knowledge (e.g., Patricia Hill Collins) or critiquing research methods (e.g., Dr. Eduardo Bonilla-Silva).

Moving Forward

In sum, I reiterate that it is possible to be an activist and an academic.  If responsible, one’s work in one domain can benefit the other.  And, for some, the synergy among all aspects of your activist and academic selves cannot be compartmentalized into research, teaching, (academic) service, and community service or activism.  The question is not whether you can be.  And, frankly, I think it is time to move beyond asking whether you should be an activist.  Some people just are.

I conclude, then, by suggesting that it is time to recognize the reality of activism in academia, and better appreciate the good it does for it.  Arguably, science would remain limited and exclusive without activist efforts to end discriminatory practices in education.

Moving forward, the question should be how to support students and scholars who are activists at heart (because you never know what impact they can have in society!).  I call for ending the practice of “beating the activist” out of graduate students.  It is no secret that many students come into graduate programs, especially in the social sciences, with the hopes of making a difference.  It is time to support them as they are.

My Kind Of Sociology

And, I am working toward my own self-defined sociology, even after six years of “beatings” in graduate school.  You may have noticed that I renamed my blog, My Sociology.  This was the name of my very first blog.  By the title, I do not imply that I own sociology (though we could debate whether it can be or is owned, and by whom).  Rather, I take the position that there is no one, singular way to do sociology nor to be a sociologist.

Seeing the doubt that students from marginalized backgrounds experience, particularly in graduate school, makes it particularly important to support activist-leaning academics.  A narrow image of successful scholars is purported, and the disconnect between one’s social justice desires and what they learn in graduate school persists.  So, too many — just too many — scholars of color, women scholars, first-generation and working-class scholars doubt themselves, questioning whether an academic career is right for them, and, frankly, whether they are right (read: good enough) for academia.

There are a number of examples of sociologists, whether or not they identify as activists, who serve as inspiring role models, folks who pursue their own kind of sociology:





Oppression As Terrorism

7 03 2013

What image comes to mind when you hear the term “terrorist“?  I can imagine most Americans think of something like the images that a quick Google search yields:Screen Shot 2013-03-07 at 7.14.25 AM

Right now, these are the kinds of images that predominate US discourse on terrorism, particularly after the terrorists attacks in NYC, DC, and PA on September 11, 2001.  Before that, this was the image of terrorism, at least in my mind:

That of domestic terrorist, Timothy McVeigha white supremacists.  As a nation, we are more fixated on the threat posed by those pictured in the first image — those people in that country.  Our fear of terrorism is used as justification for our xenophobic prejudice toward nations outside of the West.  Arguably, it also undergirds the vehement anti-immigration sentiment, now that “immigrant” has become synonymous with “Hispanic,” “Latino,” “Mexican,” and “illegal.”

For the oppressed members of the US — people of color, women, lesbian, gay, bisexual, and trans* (LGBT) people, religious minorities, and immigrants in particular — terrorism exists daily within our borders.  Defining terrorism simply as a systematic effort to evoke fear and terror in another group, oppressed groups experience both violence and the threat of violence (i.e., terrorism).  In addition to the daily microaggressions and discrimination, these marginalized groups are kept in “their place” through violence and terrorism.

Power And Defining Violence

Continuing to gobble up every idea in sociologist Patricia Hill Collins‘s book, On Intellectual Activism, I got the encouragement I needed to write this post, which I have been contemplating for some time.  She has a chapter, “The Ethos of Violence,” in which she argues that violence is not a given phenomenon.  Rather, it is socially constructed, wherein its meaning is taken from its historical and social context.  But, as I usually do when drawing upon a social constructionist perspective, I echo her argument that the power to define socially is not shared equally.  Rather, dominant social groups hold the power to define violence.  Whites, the middle- and upper-classes, men, heterosexuals, US-born citizens, and so on define violence.

Take the unfortunate example of the shooting in an elementary school in Connecticut.  It would be unimaginable to think anyone would dispute that this was a tragedy — yes, even one that warrants the overdue changes to gun control laws in the US.  But, as some pointed out, that kind of rare tragedy in middle-class white America garners great national attention, while everyday violence in urban, poor, and Black and Latin/o neighborhoods rarely get attention.  As Collins’s points out, these events, though more common, are not treated as noteworthy violence because they do not directly affect the privileged members of America.  In fact, such violence is treated as something to be routinely expected of the inferior classes of people who are stereotyped as natural savages.

Look at the intense political battles against protections from discrimination and violence for women, trans* people, people of color, and lesbian, gay, and bisexual people.  It is difficult to fathom how one could oppose protection from violence.  But, men, cisgender people, heterosexuals, the wealthy, and whites are shielded from violence.  As a part of their privilege, they neither witness nor experience violence enacted toward them because of their status.

Oppression As Terrorism

Collins also notes that, in addition to the violence enacted against oppressed people, they are also terrorized by the threat of such violence.

The routine nature of violence is highly significant in maintaining the social control needed for social inequalities to be seen as natural, normal, and inevitable.  The significance of violence goes much deeper than the small number of visible violent acts that actually occur in relation to the size of the American population as well as the interpretive climate needed to define it.   Rather, the threat of violence constitutes a powerful tool of social control.  For example, women who monitor what they wear, where they walk and with whom, and the time of day they appear in public places adjust their behavior in response to the fear of violence against them.  Women do not have total access to the streets because these spaces remain coded as male spaces, at least most of the time.  A particular woman need not be raped to know that some streets are always dangerous or that all streets are sometimes dangerous.  The fear of physical and sexual assault is sufficient to keep her in her place.

In the above quote, Collins points out that, while at least one-quarter of women experience actual sexual violence, they and the remaining 75 percent of women are plagued by the threat of sexual (and other forms of) violence.  That sexual violence affects women such that they live in fear and adjust their behaviors to minimize their vulnerability and this fear constitutes a form of terrorism.  And, that seemingly isolated acts serve to threaten and disempower an entire marginalized group (women), rape and sexual assault constitutes a type of hate crime.

In a forthcoming article in Journal of Homosexuality, considering the intersections among race and ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation, Doug Meyer and I found that white men and heterosexual men (the sample was too small to consider all three identities simultaneously) were the only groups wherein fewer than half (~30 percent) reported being afraid to walk alone at night within 1 mile of their own homes.  All women, regardless of race, ethnicity, and sexual orientation, Black and Latino men, and sexual minority men had comparable percentages of those who said they felt such fear (between 70-80 percent).  These patterns held even as we accounted for their prior experiences of robbery or other crimes.

Marginalized groups have real reason to live in fear.  The rates of documented acts of violence are high — just imagine what the rates would look like if most acts of violence were actually reported.  And, think about the costs of the fear that most members of marginalized groups experience.  This fear and the efforts one may take to protect oneself from violence can mean watching every aspect of your behavior, remaining vigilant and in a heightened state of arousal when walking alone, being wary of strangers of privileged groups, staying away from certain parts of town, or forgoing certain activities all together.  For myself, as my partner and I visit Richmond next week to search for a place to live, I have such concerns weighing on my mind; where will we feel safe as an interracial queer couple?

Given their privilege, whites, men, cisgender people, heterosexuals, those born in the US, and the wealthy do not have to experience nor think about violence and the fear of violence.  Beyond that, they do not have to acknowledge or validate the fear experienced by members of oppressed groups.  Further, they have the power to subvert our claims of violence, either as isolated acts that are not motivated by hate (rather than systemic violence and terrorism) or even as something victims brought on themselvesMaybe it was the short skirt she was wearing.  Maybe it was the hoodie he was wearing.  Maybe he flirted with the guy.  Maybe she “lied” about her sex-assigned-at-birth.

Terrorism And The State

What complicates this further is that the state, which proclaims to protect all Americans, is implicated in violence against the oppressed.  Laws on the books are either selectively or weakly enforced.  Proposed laws to protect marginalized groups from violence are somehow characterized as a threat to privileged groups.  And, too often, the state itself enacts violence (e.g., police brutality, injustice in the criminal justice system, forced sterilization, interment, enslavement, raids).  Who protects us when even our protectors enact violence against us or fails to intervene when others attack us?

How quickly we developed national efforts to guard against terrorism (and protect our national borders from “illegals“) — of course, that is when dominant groups come under threat.  There has never been a Homeland Security to protect against racism, sexism, heterosexism, cissexism.  The oppressed are on their own for that.  Ironically, it seems that when the state moves to protect all Americans, the oppressed become suspects.  Anyone with brown skin can be searched and demanded for their “papers.”  Transgender and gender non-conforming people are subjected to additional screening through TSA security checks at airports.  But, c’mon — this is in the name of security for all!

Another Irony Of Oppression

Something akin to the “double bind” or “dual-edged sword” that oppressed people face — the sense that you are “damned if you do and damned if you don’t” — is a sense of irony about systems of oppression.  A good example of the “double bind” for women is the reality that they are penalized for being feminine in a masculinist society, but then punished if they are “too masculine” — something that, in overly simplistic pragmatic terms — would make sense to get ahead in life.  But, what I find more ironic is a twist on certain aspects of oppression.

In particular, I find it ironic that members of oppressed groups face everyday threats of violence, discrimination, and subtler expressions of hatred, yet are characterized as a threat to dominant society.  People of color are subject to violence by, yet are portrayed as violent to, white America.  Gay men, in particular, are frequent targets of homophobic violence and discrimination by, yet are characterized as threatening to, heterosexual men.  Women, if given the power to control anything (even their own bodies!), are seen as a threat to the livelihood of the nation.

There is an exchange in the 2007 movie version of the play, Hairspray, that sticks out in my memory:

Screen Shot 2013-03-07 at 10.31.36 AM

Seaweed: “And this young lady right here is Penny Pingleton.”
Penny: “I’m very pleased and scared to be here.”
Motormouth Maybelle: “Now, honey, we got more reason to be scared on your street.”

Concluding Thoughts

I suppose the take-away points of this post could be: 1) calling for better attention to collective understandings of violence and terrorism, which erase the ways in which oppressed people are attacked and terrorized daily; and 2) calling for real, sustained efforts to account for, outlaw, and remedy the vast amount of violence that routinely occurs against marginalized groups.

This should entail, as Collins points out, better understanding violence at the intersection of systems of oppression, including the heightened risk of violence among those who belong to multiple oppressed groups (especially women and LGBT people of color and poor LGBT people and women).  For, even within our own communities, we face violence.  Yet, for some reason, many members of privileged groups continue to dismiss our efforts protect ourselves from discrimination and violence — basic, fundamental rights — as “special rights.”





A Gay Guy’s Guide To Feminism – A Brief Introduction

4 03 2013

With the start of Women’s, Womyn‘s, and Womanist Herstory Month this past Friday, I have been wondering what more I can do to challenge sexism — including my own.  As I have noted in previous posts, I have an evolving awareness that my own disadvantaged social location as a brown queer man does not make me immune to sexism, nor any other system of oppression.

One important task of my anti-sexist advocacy is to become aware of the ways in which I am privileged as a man.  I know this to be a particular challenge for queer men because of our awareness that we are disadvantaged among men.  So, I was disappointed to find little beyond a few personal reflections from feminist-identified gay men to guide me and other queer men to understand and appropriately fight sexism.  The Guy’s Guide to Feminism seems like a good start, but I find it useful to engage gay men from their unique relationships with sexism, women, and male privilege.

Feminism For Gay Men 101

Though I am just at the beginning of a lifelong journey to understanding sexism and my own male privilege, here are a few lessons I would like to impart to my fellow gay men:

      1. We are men.  We hold male privilegePeriod.
      2. Yes, number 1 is true despite our sexual orientation and despite our gender expression (no matter how feminine, androgynous, or queer).  Though gay masculinity is devalued relative to hegemonic masculinity (i.e., white heterosexual middle-class able-bodied young/middle-age masculinity), it is still privileged over all femininities.
      3. Systems of oppression are linked including — particularly relevant to this discussion — sexism, heterosexism, and cissexism.  As such, our liberation is tied to the liberation of ciswomen and trans* people.
      4. While number 3 is true, we are not immune to sexist attitudes and behaviors.  And, most importantly, being gay does not make us anti-sexist.  Our marginalized status among men may make it easier to understand sexist oppression, but it does does not preclude us from it.  Just like heterosexual cisgender men who engage in anti-sexist activism, we must be active in challenging the prejudice, discrimination, and violence against women, and to keep our male privilege in check (i.e., give it up or use it for good).
      5. Though we generally are not sexually attracted to women, we are just as capable of sexually harassing or assaulting women.  The root of sexual violence is power, not sexual attraction.  I must point out here that too many of us have sexually harassed or assaulted women and naively excused the behavior as innocent because we are gay.  Sexual violence by any perpetrator is wrong.  But, that of gay men has the added element of placing our women friends and allies in the difficult position of questioning whether to feel violated or upset.
      6. Related to number 5, we must stop treating the women in our lives as objects or accessories.  Yes, many heterosexual women are guilty of doing this to us — the gay BFF, every girl’s must have! — which is also wrong.  Friendships that exist because of her gender or your sexual orientation are forms of exotification.
      7. Attraction to male-bodied individuals, men, and masculinity must be stripped of the presumed aversion to female-bodied individuals, women, and femininity.  We need not be repulsed by female bodies just because we are not sexually attracted to (cis)women.  Even when joking, this is no less problematic than (cisgender) heterosexuals who proclaim to be repulsed by people of their same sex.
      8. Certain aspects of gay men’s culture that promote pride and empowerment among us come at the expense of women’s empowerment.  To call a fellow gay man “bitch,” “cunt,” and, more commonly in the drag scene, “fish,” is to use a term that derogates women.  Though they may be positive in intent and meaning, these are not instances of reclaiming pejorative terms used against us: self-identifying as queer is; “servin’ up fish!” isn’t.  Just think how outraged we would be if women decided to adopt “faggot” as a term of endearment among themselves.
      9. Our queer, bisexual, and lesbian sisters are oppressed by heterosexism and sexism.  We, as LGBT and queer people, will not be fully liberated by addressing homophobia and heterosexism alone.
      10. Related to number 9, we must recognize that LBQ women are often subject to our sexist prejudice and behavior, ranging from anti-lesbian jokes to outright exclusion (often disguised as innocently bonding with other gay men or even the product of our exclusive attraction to men).
      11. The way that we devalue femininity among ourselves is another arm of sexism.  The “no femmes” sentiment, aptly called femmephobia, is nothing more than the hatred of femininity, which is associated with women.  Beyond eliminating this silly prejudice in our anti-sexist efforts, we do ourselves the favor of freeing the constraints on how we can behave and express our gender.
      12. We owe it — yes, we owe it — to the ciswomen and trans* people who have fought against the injustices we face to fight against those they face.  Even when kept at the periphery or outright excluded, transpeople have fought for equal rights and status for lesbian, gay, and bisexual people. Many lesbian and bisexual women served as caregivers to gay and bisexual men with HIV/AIDS during the 1980s and 1990s, while also fighting along side those who worked for better HIV/AIDS health care.  Feminists of all walks of life have advocated for our protection from prejudice, discrimination, and violence, seeing it as important in (and linked to) activism against sexist discrimination and violence against women.

We owe it to our ciswomen and trans* friends and allies — and ourselves — to be better feminists.





In Defense Of Femininities — All Of Them

1 03 2013

Happy Women’s, Womyn’s, Womanist Herstory Month!  Yep, it is March already.  A time the US has set aside for obligatory celebration of girls and women and their contributions to the world.  Sadly, there is a sense of obligation, with the whisperings of “do we still need this?”

Comprehensive Gender Equality

Yes, we do still need these 31 days — barely 10 percent of the entire year — to reflect on girls, women, feminism, sexism and patriarchy, and gender.  By no means have we achieved gender equality.  And, we are overdue for broadening our vision of gender and equality.

Some time ago, I blogged about the narrow definition of “gender equality.”  In this limited, traditional sense, we are referring to the the equal status and treatment of women and men, still recognized by their gender and presumed sex.  This is certainly the dominant vision of mainstream feminism, or was at least in the days of second wave feminism.

There are at least three aspects of gender inequality that remain in this limited view of gender and gender equality.  First, this vision reinforces the treatment of “woman” as a singular status and “women” as a monolithic group.  The unique experiences and needs of women who are also of color, poor, disabled, lesbian, bisexual, queer, older, immigrant, and so on are overlooked.  Second, this focus fails to address the marginalization of transwomen, and transgender and gender non-conforming people in general.  Finally, while aiming to free women from oppression, certain gender identities and expressions — namely femininities — remain stigmatized and invisible.

Gender Diversity

There is a great deal of gender diversity that is too often overlooked within our society that continues to treat sex and gender as binaries: females and males, women and men.

Women, as a group, come from diverse backgrounds: race, ethnicity, social class, sexual identity, nativity, body size and shape, religion, region, and ability.  It is unsurprising, then, that various branches of feminism — or, more accurately, various feminisms — emerged to counter the exclusive focus of mainstream (second wave) feminism to the lives of US-born white middle-class heterosexual cisgender women.  Some of the prominent feminisms in both activism and academia include Black feminism, Womanism, Chicana feminism, multiracial feminism, Third World feminism, lesbian feminism, and working-class feminism.  Today, feminist advocacy and organizations are now more inclusive, but there is still a strong tendency to slip into “single issue” politics.

Related to this diversity among women is the variation within the category of “woman.”  Just as thinking of gender in binary terms, women and men, a singular view of women misses the existence of trans* and gender non-conforming people, particularly transwomen.  Unfortunately, feminist advocacy and organizations have even excluded transwomen in the past, and many wrestle today with deciding how far their inclusivity should extend (e.g., should women’s organizations serve transmen?).

Beyond diversity in terms of gender identity is the recognition of diverse gender expressions.  In reality, there is no universal femininity.  Rather, there are multiple femininities.  Because of the conflation of sex and gender, we tend to assume that femininity = woman; so the reality that femininity can be expressed through any body, regardless of sex and gender identity, is actively resisted and suppressed.  This means we also overlook the hierarchy of femininities, wherein hyperfemininity in female-bodied individuals is rewarded and valued over other expressions of femininity and its expression in other bodies.

Just to make sure the above discussion is clear, I stress that there is a great deal of gender diversity that is too often ignored or erased.  “Woman” does not imply white, US-born, able-bodied, heterosexual (or even sexual), cisgender, feminine, middle-class, Christian, and thin.  There is no singular status or identity of woman.  As a consequence of overlooking this gender diversity, we also miss the inequality that persists among women and among femininities.

In Defense Of Femininities

Despite the many gains that (cis)women have made, and increasing attention to the lives of transwomen, femininity itself remains stigmatized and devalued.  In fact, I would argue that some of the gains made toward gender equality have come at the expense of femininity.  Indeed, early on, some feminists expressed concern that the elevation of women’s status to that of men’s would largely men that women become men.  You can join the old boys club on the condition that you become a boy.

My discipline (sociology) recently tipped over the threshold of gender parity to become a predominantly-female field.  Though the “glass ceiling” has been cracked, if not completely shattered, in some of the field’s top-departments and leadership positions, feminist sociologists continue to struggle to gain legitimacy in mainstream sociology.

Further, we continue to prioritize and reward masculine (or even masculinist) presentations of self.  On two occasions, I witnessed a woman professor scold women students (in front of a mixed-audience) for appearing to lack confidence and aggressiveness: “don’t do that, that’s girly!”  I, too, was discouraged by a (man) professor from being a “shy guy” during an upcoming talk, which, upon comparing notes with another student, realized was the softened version of “man up!”  (I suppose I was assumed too sensitive or critical for the more direct assault on my gendered presentation of self.)

These interpersonal constraints are compounded by those at the institutional level.  In particular, academic institutions continue to evaluate scholars, particularly for tenure, using standards of the days where (white) male scholars had stay-at-home wives to take care of house and home.  Women who become parents face great professional costs, while women who forgo parenthood are rewarded.  Of course, an ironic twist to this aspect of sexism is that fathers receive a slight boost.

Liberating Femininities

As an optimist, I see liberating girls, women, as well as femininity as beneficial to all members of society, no matter their sex, gender identity, and gender expression.  As a critical scholar, I see this liberation as inherently tied to the liberation of all oppressed groups. Sexism is linked to transphobia is linked to heterosexism is linked to classism is linked to racism is linked to xenophobia is linked to ableism is linked to ageism and so on.

For example, two groups of oppressed men — Black men and trans, bisexual, and gay men — stand to benefit from the liberation of femininity.  Just as a hierarchy exists for femininities, one exists for the diverse expressions of masculinity, with that of US-born white middle-class able-bodied heterosexual men as the most valued.  Thus, Black masculinity and queer masculinity are devalued, stereotyped, and simultaneously threatened and treated as a threat.  As a result, many queer and Black men devalue femininity in society and particularly among themselves.  (Some rationalize this by asking, “why would you want to be further stigmatized?”)  True racial and sexual equality cannot exist if these men’s gender expressions remain constrained and policed.

It is time, then, to update our feminist vision of the future.  Feminism cannot be limited to the goal of liberating (a “narrow” category of) women.  We must liberate all women, regardless of their sex assigned at birth, race, age, ethnicity, ability, nativity, religion, body size and shape, and social class.  And, we must liberate all expressions of gender, particularly femininities.  For women will never be truly free in a society that oppresses femininity.





No More Sexism-Colored Glasses?

31 01 2013

The United States Military has finally lifted its ban on women armed service members serving in combat.  Women have long participated in military and war, and have increasingly been allowed to participate in all spheres and roles.  However, the ban preventing women from serving in combat remained the last
official barrier to their full inclusion in military activity.

In many ways, this move is overdue, considering the number of women service members already serving in combat.  The notion of a contained combat zone reflects war practices of yesteryear; so, beyond excluding women from war all together, there remains little possibility of protecting them from direct combat.  The longstanding reasons for prohibiting women from participating in the military — and then, once included, arguments against allowing women into specific spheres and jobs in the military — also reflect outdated views about women, sex and gender, the body, and sexuality.

Not Discrimination, Just Practical!

It is now (somewhat) unpopular to openly espouse some of the most hostile sexism of the past.  Rather, like in the case of the lingering combat ban, opponents have pointed to practical matters:

Over the years, people have made silly cases against women in combat, but the prevailing argument seems to have been that women have less upper body strength than men — and so would have trouble carrying heavy rucksacks over long distances or wounded soldiers out of harm’s way.

As a soldier, if you’re injured and cannot move, do you want a 6’1″ 220lb. muscular man to carry you to safety, or a scrawny 5’2″ woman to slowly drag you out of danger (likely leading both of you to your deaths)?  When framed that way, it makes it more difficult to refute such concerns.  The problem inherent in this opposition is it underestimates the strength of all women (and/or overestimates the strength of all men) and exaggerates the differences between women and men by erasing the diversity among women and among men.  If we are actually concerned about the 5’2″ marine’s strength, why exclude 6’1″ muscular women from combat while including short, petite men?

Body shape and size aside, there is a good chance any fellow soldier will be able to carry you to safety.  Even beyond equality between women and men in strength, some things make me think women are actually stronger and tolerate a lot more pain in life than men.

But, some view the world through sexism-colored glasses, taking a perspective that places differences between men and women at the center, with beliefs about women’s inferior status, strength, intellect, and talent used as justification.  The problem, though, is that sexism also affords men the power to force this view, now matter how inaccurate; the reality according to sexism retains the status of Truth while everything else is an opinion.

Women Were Already In Combat

As I noted above, the lift of this formal policy prohibiting women from battle comes after women were already involved in war and combat. But, sexism-colored glasses blind us to the multiple wars that exist.  War is not merely a series of battles between nations (run by men) that officially declare war, drawing on armed militaries, and ultimately reach some peace settlement.  Throughout history, everyday, and everywhere, there are ongoing wars against women: sexism, patriarchy, misogyny, intimate partner violence, femicide, sexual violence, sexual harassment, sexual objectification, reproductive control, and so on.

War on Women

The Battle (For Equality) Is Not Over

Lifting the ban on women serving in combat is, indeed, a major victory for gender equality in the military.  But, the institution, like every other, remains anything but equal.  Though there are few remaining policies that explicitly discriminate against women, women in the military remain targets of discrimination, harassment, and sexual violence.  Among women service members who file charges when sexually assaulted or harassed, many are silenced, dismissed, or even falsely diagnosed with mental illness and discharged from the military.  Further, women and children of other nations are often unnecessarily or unfairly attacked, harassed, and sexually assaulted by US troops.

On a related note, we are still celebrating the recent repeal of the US Military’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, which prohibited openly lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) people from military service.  However, transgender and gender non-conforming people are remain excluded from service.  And, although LGB individuals are officially included, the military is slow to recognize same-gender relationships and marriages, and to afford military benefits to same-gender partners.  By no means is the US military free of sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and racism.  But, there has been some (slow) progress toward equality.