A Musing on Monogamy...

With the unjustifiable continuation of the war in Iraq, our government’s maladjustment to the presence of Immigrants and their rights protests, the seemingly unstoppable increase of gas prices, and the persistent race and gender dichotomies and divisions within our community, one questions if and where s/he can find peace of mind in the queer community. Rather than looking for peace, however, we might consider creating peace – in a revolutionary way – that can both distract us from those named calamities and confront the system that perpetuates them as stable and unchangeable realities in our society. Perhaps standing up against mandated, stoic and arguably violent relationships with other countries, “other” residents of this country, capitalist price gougers, and racist and gender-exclusive institutions and individuals requires us to consider how we participate in the system - or how we WANT to participate in the system.

Our involuntary relationships with one another – in the hegemonic system of monogamy – could possibly be viewed as a mandated, stoic and arguably violent perpetuation of structures that cause ruptures in human freedom of expression, identity, engagement and pursuits of both individual and communal happiness. Perhaps, especially in our community – the Black queer community – some peace may be created in the radical act of existing in non-normative, non-monogamous relation to one another. While existing in the queer community is itself a revolutionary act, some of us engage in that community in ways that are (or try to be) normative. Let's begin with the labels. Sometimes, we fall prey to unhelpful and usually unnecessary (but often constricting) gender title wars, advocating for some designation of “femme,” “butch,” “soft butch,” “bottom,” “top,” “versatile," "aggressive," "femme aggressive," "stud" "girlie girl" or whatever label that seems palatable so that we can communicate the validity of our existences to ourselves and to other people who might be interested in knowing who we are. On the one hand, this is important enterprise, as it offers us the opportunity to name ourselves and claim identities that are important to us, without being signified by dominant cultural naming practices. On the other hand, these labels are ways to translate what might be untranslatable realities and experiences to a culture which arrogantly and blindly moves through its own hegemonic system of nomenclature. In this way, we sometimes attempt to mirror normative labels extant in the social structure. 

Unfortunately (and moving toward my larger point), this practice permeates our concepts of relationship as well. We attempt to mirror relationships and relational practices that are limiting and proscriptive, regardless of their success, benefits, and costs. One could relate this speculum activity to nothing more than assimilationism and perhaps a lack of vision for the multifarious possibilities for how one might engage in relationship. But that would be unfair. I wonder if it might be more fair to think about the ways we construct relationships as emergent from our deepest fears (rather than our deepest desires). That is to say: even in the queer community, despite many and varied revolutionary acts and stances for justice, there exists persistent fears of intolerance, lack of acceptance, the absence of affirmation or worse: lack of recognition, denial of work opportunities, limited lifestyle and family choices, and even violence. Understandably so, right? Well, I assert that these fears have dire social effects, and one which is blatantly obvious is compulsory monogamy. 

To be clear, I am an advocate of MOST relationship types and styles, reveling in loves that are pure and happy and life-giving for all involved. This includes monogamy. What I am pointing to here, however, is the way that an obligatory style of relationship might be another result of the fears that are a part of queer communities (and surely others, but I'm not talking about those today). If, as various social communities we have been concerned with the maintenance of structures, categories, and rules in order to justly (usually not so justly) distribute and receive goods, rights, privileges and more, one could see how the relationship style of monogamy could maintain a structure. The problem, though, is that this maintained structure has been and currently is unjust, violent, oppressive, marginalizing, suppressive, and dehumanizing for many people. We could definitely talk about the continuation of uncritical, compulsive monogamy might as a proponent of gender disparities, role games, exclusivity, and selfish and insecure power dynamics that feed into other social norms of oppression and violence. 

So, am I saying monogamy is evil and worthy of being stamped out? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Am I saying that it has within it some assumptions, norms, and practices which might contribute to unjust and unfortunate ideas of how we can righteously BE together? SURE. To be clear, I want to advocate for a set of relationship options that incorporate lots of possibilities, including a monogamy that is revolutionized. Really, I just think the subject is complicated and deserves a robust discussion and analysis.

Sometime after my exams (for which I should be studying RIGHT NOW instead of writing this note), I would like to think (together with you all) through various theo-ethical justifications for and approaches to non-normative relationship existences that allow for the liberal and live-giving visions of queer relationships, giving particular attention to the Black queer community. I speculate that, given the notion of love without boundary, in favor of abundance and with faith in one’s lovers, queers might find ourselves in a revolution of moral relationship philosophy. More clearly, perhaps the very idea of non-normative non-monogamy will open Black queers bodies to the freedom longed for since the revolutions of the rebellions of the slaves, the burning of bras, and the brawl at Stonewall.

Moments...

When my heart is full like it is right now, I can see the sun and not shade my eyes. I can feel The Presence and know no fear.

It is these moments when I feel most like myself, when I am resting in a place of peace and love that I know only comes from the very real existence of goodness in the universe. I am thankful for these moments – moments when my eyes blur, voices stand still, and the music just plays…in my heart, through my bones, and deep down in my soul.

Tonight I experienced an iteration – nay, a full realization – of something for which I hoped for so long. Worlds came together through the sharing of music, the merging of cultures, and the basic care of “learning the other.”

Yes, in these moments, I have felt more at home with my loves than anytime I can remember. I am grateful. The goddesses have shown up again.

Why I do What I DO

An experience at the 2005 Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Religion and Society of Biblical Literature caricatures the common educational and personal situations that are impetus for my desire to pursue graduate work in general and which drive me fervently toward serious ethical inquiry around issues of race, gender, and sexuality. I attended two Womanist panels, two Black Theology panels, one Gay and Lesbian panel, and a few others. I was an outsider in some major way in each of these environments. In the Black Theology panel, there was little to no discussion or presented scholarship about women and Black women's theology. Likewise, the Gay and Lesbian panel failed to engage in ANY discussion of race, and incidentally, my partner Julia, my friend Ashon, and I appeared to be the only Black people – the only non-white people – in the room. Most painful, however, was the disappointment I felt after attending the Womanist panels which gave little more than lip service to non-heteronormative realities. Interestingly, the one presenter at the Womanist panel who gave real attention to diverse sexualities and gender identities was a White woman. While I appreciated her presentation, I recognized the missing focus on non-heteronormative sexuality that emerged from Black women's scholarship. Two ethical questions emerged in response to the lack of interdisciplinary focus/scholarship in these panels and have continued to propel my writing/inquiries in my coursework. First, who, in the study of religious ethics, is concerned with non-normative sexuality and gender in non-white and non-male communities? Second, in what ways should I attempt to contribute to the apparent lack of desire in this area and/or enter the conversation in a manner that draws attention to these locations in the study of ethics?

As I have encountered them in my courses over the past three semesters, various historians, theologians, ethicists, sociologists, and anthropologists have studied Christian women's religiosity and have tried to consider the ways in which some women construct theology, institute and practice religious rituals, and formulate ways of being. While the majority of those studies have not been located in and focused on Black women and their experiences, in the latter half of the 20th century religious scholars have attempted to incorporate Black women's religiosity, experiences, and values into larger theo-ethical discourse. A review of these works, however, shows that scholars have often made at least one of two atrocious errors: ignoring or discounting the particularities of Black women's religiosity and analyzing or critiquing those particularities through a hegemonic paradigm that issues forth from White, hetero-masculine normative ideologies. That said, Black sexuality – as a tenet of Black feminist discourse – requires for a useful perusal of the subject, theoretical frameworks that take into account the particularities and diversity in Black women's experiences. I feel assured that Womanism, Queer Theory, and Quare theory – read together - are useful and necessary resources for reviewing, engaging, and critically analyzing Black Women's sexuality in relation to social ethics, as dualistic, hegemonic and normative perspectives common to Western philosophical and theological lenses, are limiting in scope and foundationally erroneous.

Womanism, in my reading, has many accomplishments to be acknowledged, and I want to lift them up, as they continue to help me think through my project. First, Womanism – specifically related to race, class, and gender – has worked hard to insert non-normative contexts into highly normativized discourses. Theological and other disciplinary discourses have been couched in particularly imperialist, colonialist, positivist, enlightenment-based, or simply myopic assumptions and language. Womanism – particularly theology and ethics worked as a corrective for that huge error in scholarship. Second, Womanism has offered Black women a voice where they were voiceless in the academy and in so doing, it has taken Black women from a position of being signified upon to one of agency that allows for truthful, contextualized disclosure. Third, Womanism has worked to make religious studies a study of embodiment – bridging our sacred selves with our embodied selves by refusing to separate race from gender or social experience. This re-humanized our scholarship of the sacred as un-separate from the human. Finally, Womanism has tried to make space to talk about sexuality and healthy sexual living in the church.

I am confident in saying that Womanism's great contribution thus far is just as praxis- oriented as it is poetic. Offering praxis and poesis on the living and the studying of Black women is well within the realm of what Black women scholars already do. In my work, I want to think about that in relation to sexual ethics, particularly queer sexuality and ethics. Rather than diagnose the "them" of which we speak in our ponderings, I want to participate in scholarship that continually invites the "them" to speak for themselves.

Indeed, I am concerned with the ways this type of work is done in the academy. As many scholars have opened the door for more valid – if not reliable – productions of knowledge, I find myself wondering: Should scholarly claims about sexual ethics emerge from a standpoint of universalism or particularity? This question naturally leads to another for me: What can be done about the significations that occur as a result of universals, and likewise, what can be done about the invisibility rendered to persons who are left out of the "particular" conversations? Let me be clear about my assumption regarding academic engagement with both sexual ethics and queer perspectives: it seems that what makes our scholarship authoritative is the ability for it to be understood mostly in terms of reliability. To be sure, my training thus far has centered on the possibility of an audible and authoritative voice in my work, which has undoubtedly produced a normative, often imperialistic, method of scholarly engagement. For my evaluators, this has been an exercise in the rigors of academic translation of the ideas and issues pertinent to my own work.

This is all to say: my work is oriented not toward constructing a normative voice in Black queer sexual ethics, per say. Rather, it is oriented toward constructing relationships between disciplines or theories that helps us to think about ethics – especially as I encounter and engage more persons in my moral community – whether in the academy or on the street. Story-telling is a part of my history as a Black person and as a woman and as a scholar, and I want to investigate the trajectory of story-telling that has occurred through Womanist ethical scholarship through to Black queer declarations. In as much as a legend is what is told or written when a story's truth is too dangerous, I want to be sure not to make the experiences of Black queers legendary in the academy and in the community. Thus, a few lingering questions remain for me: How does the elimination of race and gender from the Christian ethics conversation about sexuality result in an incomplete development of a sexual ethic? What is affirmed about the normative voice in Christian Ethics when it is not held accountable to all the members of the faith community? How do concepts of race, gender, and sexuality emerge from differing images of God? For those whose identity lies in an intersection of particular races, genders, and sexualities, how are decisions about sexual moral action made in light of particular images of God?

So...we'll see how it goes, huh? I'm doing this PhD thing...for real :)

Blogging Virginity...Taken by Self-Pleasure

I'm always looking for new ways to be a virgin. I mean, it's probably not because I find virtue in virginity as much as it has to do with the invigorating feeling that comes from discovering newness, inexperience, and longing and moving past those feelings into ones of experience, knowledge and groundedness.

This blogging space is like that for me. I suppose I could call myself a writer of sorts. I'm a graduate student, for goddesses' sake - it's what we do...read, write, read, write. I generally enjoy the process of encountering a writer, some eloquent offering into the universe and then participating in the sacred conversation of critique and general engagement. What is less often exercised, though, is my own offering into the universe - one that is unincumbered by academic speak, verbose entanglement with the issues in a text, or some other heady shit. It is the process of free writing, free expression, and sacred sharing that i seek...that my virgin pen (or keyboard in the 21st century) calls for. I seek the sharing of myself through the process...