I've been reading SO many of those "Introducing ..." books in the past month or so. I'm just finishing postmodernism today. Well "finishing postmodernism" is perhaps a slightly misleading phrasing - after all, I'm actually just finishing a picture book with few words that briefly presents basic ideas in postmodernist writings. Anyway, I'm really inspired by bits of postmodernist theory, mainly the scepticism towards metanarratives - in some ways, its similar to what I called "political agnosticism" in my previous post. I like to remain open to new ways of understanding the world (some of you may remember that was part of the thinking behind "Grey").
I'm also realising that my thesis is basically arguing that eugenicist and emancipatory ideologies have more in common than they would like to admit. It's a bit Hage-esque - Hage argues that tolerant cosmopolitans and intolerant racists are united in their sense of (Foucaultian) governmentality - or entitlement to control. This is despite the fact that tolerant cosmopolitans like to understand themselves as fundamentally opposed to intolerant racists (in fact, arguably their identity is constructed oppositionally to "racists"). I'm arguing that both eugenicist and emancipatory (or progressive) ideologies are predicated on similar beliefs:
(i) the ontological existence of categories of people,
(ii) extant hierarchies between them, (although, of course they are opposed in their ethical appraisal of these hierarchies);
(iii) that they have a governmental right to control this hierarchy (Hage's central idea);
(iv) and a fundamental sense of identity related to engaging in this control.
I'm not arguing a moral or ethical equivalence (or course), for one is horrific, the other is tolerable. But I disagree with premise (iii), and in fact, I think that those who engage in "defending the Other" are often profounding misguided and destructive. It's especially problematic when many of the arguments used by progressives to respond to existing hierarchies [ie. (ii) in my list above] arguments like "queers aren't really any different to straights", or "disabled people need pity and help from non-disabled people" silence the Other and serve more to construct the identity of the progressive as Good than to do anything "for" the Other.
Of course, this is all complicated by the discourses produced by the Other themselves, which often parallel those that I am critiquing. See, on the one hand, I valorise "self-definition", but on the other I privilege my own definitions!
Monday, August 27, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
political agnosticism
i've been thinking lately about political identities. in lots of ways, i'm a lefty. but i resist being a lefty in the sense that it is an inherenly oppositional identity, one that makes sense only in opposition to conservatives/right-wingers.
Barack Obama said something that really struck a chord with me:
"I'm considered a progressive Democrat. But if a Republican or conservative or libertarian or free-marketeer has a better idea, I am happy to steal ideas from anybody - and in that sense I'm agnostic."
Certainly, inasmuch as political identity is ascribed, I'm a lefty. Inasmuch as political identity is tribal, I'm a lefty with some hesitations ... I really like Obama's idea of agnosticism.
Barack Obama said something that really struck a chord with me:
"I'm considered a progressive Democrat. But if a Republican or conservative or libertarian or free-marketeer has a better idea, I am happy to steal ideas from anybody - and in that sense I'm agnostic."
Certainly, inasmuch as political identity is ascribed, I'm a lefty. Inasmuch as political identity is tribal, I'm a lefty with some hesitations ... I really like Obama's idea of agnosticism.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
nerd pride
i've been tossing ideas in my head for the past few days for new t-shirt ideas. i've just gotten into making my own t-shirts. the first one says "curls just wanna have fun" and has a gorgeous image of curls.
anyway, so this one is going to say "NERD PRIDE", and will be made from material sewn on to a t-shirt. the thinking behind it all is that i've identified as a nerd for a really long time - first in high school when i gave up being a rebel in year 8. i discovered this bunch of people who had fun without graffi-ing, smoking and who actually did their homework. apparently i delightedly identified us all as nerds, although noone else delighted in the label (thanks allie for bringing that repressed memory back up!).
then for several years i lapsed, or rather was a nerd but without self-identifying as such. but now that i'm doing my thesis, i'm reclaiming the label. i had forgotten about my earlier identification with it, but now that the connection has been made, it's feeling like a reclamation of my own past.
but there's an added layer of amusement for me. one of the central parts of my thesis is the idea that declaring something positive about a group in fact simultaneously declares its negation. so, when one says "nerd pride", this intrinsically suggests that nerds are not something to be proud of. in my data for my thesis, there's a line from a disability charity poster that says "because this is our community." the very act of declaring this evokes the idea that this might not be "their" community. typically, these posters assume a pre-existing rejection and are sincerely trying to oppose that rejection. but, i'm arguing, it's not that simple. anyway, before i go too far into my thesis in this post, i am amused that this t-shirt references my thesis and in so doing proves my nerd pride :>
anyway, so this one is going to say "NERD PRIDE", and will be made from material sewn on to a t-shirt. the thinking behind it all is that i've identified as a nerd for a really long time - first in high school when i gave up being a rebel in year 8. i discovered this bunch of people who had fun without graffi-ing, smoking and who actually did their homework. apparently i delightedly identified us all as nerds, although noone else delighted in the label (thanks allie for bringing that repressed memory back up!).
then for several years i lapsed, or rather was a nerd but without self-identifying as such. but now that i'm doing my thesis, i'm reclaiming the label. i had forgotten about my earlier identification with it, but now that the connection has been made, it's feeling like a reclamation of my own past.
but there's an added layer of amusement for me. one of the central parts of my thesis is the idea that declaring something positive about a group in fact simultaneously declares its negation. so, when one says "nerd pride", this intrinsically suggests that nerds are not something to be proud of. in my data for my thesis, there's a line from a disability charity poster that says "because this is our community." the very act of declaring this evokes the idea that this might not be "their" community. typically, these posters assume a pre-existing rejection and are sincerely trying to oppose that rejection. but, i'm arguing, it's not that simple. anyway, before i go too far into my thesis in this post, i am amused that this t-shirt references my thesis and in so doing proves my nerd pride :>
old friends
i'd been having a rough week
but last night i hung out with old friends.
i'm talking high school friends (which for me was 10 years ago now), friends i used to see daily but now see every six months or less. sare's in a band and it was her birthday.
i don't know the contours of these women's lives- in fact when i knew them they were barely women at all - and yet i feel at ease around them, unquestionably welcome.
sare had a boy draped on her arm often enough that i'm figuring he's a significant other in her life, but we've never spoken of it. i vaguely remember seeing him before. a friend of sare's remembered my name from last time we met, i didn't even remember her face. kat had a new boy, although, again, i don't know any of the contours. sara just got back from dubai. i vaguely remember her mentioning it being a pipe-dream but i didn't know she'd actually gone. these are not the people i am close to these days, i'm sure they know just as little of the shape of my life.
all our lives keep moving, the details all changing, the details that give our lives meaning. in some ways it makes no sense to say we know each other at all - i've changed so much since high school, haven't I? - our lives have taken such different directions. and yet there's an underlying continuity that's profoundly both comforting and discomforting.
these women can poke some old memory, summoning another time. my high school years were filled with frustration, deep disappointment and pent-up fury, constantly simmering not far below the surface, overlaid most times with a smile. their anecdotes could sound cruel, brutally honest, coming from anyone else. but the distance between then and now, and the intimacy between us back then, affords a chance for laughter rather than judgement.
it's cosy, comforting, like an old stuffed toy that plays a negligible role in adult life, and yet is kept. sare offered to read chapters of my thesis when i write them. and she was genuine. she always was so generous ...
but last night i hung out with old friends.
i'm talking high school friends (which for me was 10 years ago now), friends i used to see daily but now see every six months or less. sare's in a band and it was her birthday.
i don't know the contours of these women's lives- in fact when i knew them they were barely women at all - and yet i feel at ease around them, unquestionably welcome.
sare had a boy draped on her arm often enough that i'm figuring he's a significant other in her life, but we've never spoken of it. i vaguely remember seeing him before. a friend of sare's remembered my name from last time we met, i didn't even remember her face. kat had a new boy, although, again, i don't know any of the contours. sara just got back from dubai. i vaguely remember her mentioning it being a pipe-dream but i didn't know she'd actually gone. these are not the people i am close to these days, i'm sure they know just as little of the shape of my life.
all our lives keep moving, the details all changing, the details that give our lives meaning. in some ways it makes no sense to say we know each other at all - i've changed so much since high school, haven't I? - our lives have taken such different directions. and yet there's an underlying continuity that's profoundly both comforting and discomforting.
these women can poke some old memory, summoning another time. my high school years were filled with frustration, deep disappointment and pent-up fury, constantly simmering not far below the surface, overlaid most times with a smile. their anecdotes could sound cruel, brutally honest, coming from anyone else. but the distance between then and now, and the intimacy between us back then, affords a chance for laughter rather than judgement.
it's cosy, comforting, like an old stuffed toy that plays a negligible role in adult life, and yet is kept. sare offered to read chapters of my thesis when i write them. and she was genuine. she always was so generous ...
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Derrida and undecidability (or the stranger)
OK, so i've been foraying into Derrida's ideas. At the moment, I'm getting my head around the idea of the "undecidables", those elements that disrupt binary categories (e.g. trans/intersex/androgynes "between" the categories of male and female), and how these undecidables undermine conceptual stability. Well, in the case of trans and intersex experiences, there's often an effort to assign categorical membership to resolve the "undecidability", so that a person is assigned (or actively participates in the assignment of) a sex/gender.
Anyway, a line that intrigued me was "between friends and enemies, the stranger".
I am interested in this idea of the "stranger" - one who is irreconcilably different to oneself, but with no sense of hostility. The reason for my interest is that I think this is a useful way of approaching socio-cultural diversity - how does one coexist with strangers? I think that often those who are different to the hegemonic norm (e.g. queers, people of color, disabled people) are often either framed as enemies or friends (or perhaps not in the case of disabled people who are infantilised and perhaps beyond this binary?). I mean specifically the rhetoric of well-meaning progressives who frame those who are different as friends, in the sense that they are "like us". This negates "their" differences from "us" as essentially meaningless. I am interested in how one can ethically recognise that another is (potentially) a stranger and coexist. I say potentially a stranger because some people do seek to assimilate into the hegemonic norms, and don't identify themselves as existing beyond those norms. I think radical queers often take pleasure in declaring their "enemy" status to the hegemonic norms, partly just for the pleasure of the act of rebellion, partly in order to carve a space for themselves that works for their desires, and partly challenging the power of the norms. I get it, and live my life partly as a radical queer, and I also live my life partly as an assimilationist, eager to carve a space that is not founded on perpetual struggle; but I strive to understand how to welcome the grey, how to relate to others without reducing their differences (from me) and assuming they are "just like me" and without hostility. How to be with the stranger.
Anyway, a line that intrigued me was "between friends and enemies, the stranger".
I am interested in this idea of the "stranger" - one who is irreconcilably different to oneself, but with no sense of hostility. The reason for my interest is that I think this is a useful way of approaching socio-cultural diversity - how does one coexist with strangers? I think that often those who are different to the hegemonic norm (e.g. queers, people of color, disabled people) are often either framed as enemies or friends (or perhaps not in the case of disabled people who are infantilised and perhaps beyond this binary?). I mean specifically the rhetoric of well-meaning progressives who frame those who are different as friends, in the sense that they are "like us". This negates "their" differences from "us" as essentially meaningless. I am interested in how one can ethically recognise that another is (potentially) a stranger and coexist. I say potentially a stranger because some people do seek to assimilate into the hegemonic norms, and don't identify themselves as existing beyond those norms. I think radical queers often take pleasure in declaring their "enemy" status to the hegemonic norms, partly just for the pleasure of the act of rebellion, partly in order to carve a space for themselves that works for their desires, and partly challenging the power of the norms. I get it, and live my life partly as a radical queer, and I also live my life partly as an assimilationist, eager to carve a space that is not founded on perpetual struggle; but I strive to understand how to welcome the grey, how to relate to others without reducing their differences (from me) and assuming they are "just like me" and without hostility. How to be with the stranger.
vulnerability
just read an email that describes children in public hospitals as "the most vulnerable in our society". There's a link between (perceptions of) vulnerability and paternalism - the word clearly comes from the idea of "fathering", today has elements of treating someone as if they need protection. i was thinking about the links between "Muslim women" and "Aboriginal women and children" and "disabled people" and "children dying of AIDS in Africa" in the progressive imagination. I think they are united in vulnerability, and a sense that "we" can "help" "them", even that "they" "need" "our" "help". Of course, it isn't just progressives who frame these Others in this way, it's fairly common for the enlightened privileged, but I want to problematise how we (privileged progressives) do this framing, because I think we don't get that we are colonising and degrading.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
ungrounded
last week i met up with an academic (sara wills, australia centre) whose academic approach was so similar to mine (or perhaps overlapping) that she invited me to a reading group she is in. i was so terribly chuffed at the time, and today i just got an email with suggestions for readings the group might like to undertake.
WOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!
oh my goddess this is like the most exciting thing for a nerd like me. so, anyway, yes, 10 minutes ago i was feeling all grounded and stuff, but this is like totally exciting!
i think i might work on my "nerd" t-shirt idea tonight as a celebration. :>
WOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!
oh my goddess this is like the most exciting thing for a nerd like me. so, anyway, yes, 10 minutes ago i was feeling all grounded and stuff, but this is like totally exciting!
i think i might work on my "nerd" t-shirt idea tonight as a celebration. :>
grounded
i just went for a walk along the merri with jessie. i've been ungrounded all day, but the creek and surrounding parklands never fails to ground me. the sun and movement of the wind on my skin reconnected me to my body, and the willowing of the winter sun and its dazzling reflection off the water reminded me of simple joy.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
I books for beginners
i've been reading a few of those books "Introducing ..." and "(so-and-so) for beginners" lately.
even though i've basically done 2 arts degrees (and half a law degree), there are enormous gaps in my understanding of what i would consider "fundamentals." i've been filling in (the enormous) gaps in my understanding of Foucault, Butler, Derrida, concepts like "the gaze", postcolonial theory, critical race studies, ... there are a lot of things I've done some reading in, but not enough to say i know even basics of the area.
as an aside, it's funny that i even structure the world like this - into "fundamentals" and other stuff. in many ways it's so elitist and hierarchical and often putting dead white men (or someone similar) up on pedastools, as if their thoughts are more valuable ... and yet all of those i am devouring at the moment are radically anti-establishment; in some ways they are the establishment of the "counter establishment." i think it's deeply ironic and anti-democratic, but yet i am nourishing my intellectual appetite.
the personal irony for me here is that when i first enrolled in uni, i wanted to study "the fundamentals" but i was very oriented towards the establishment's values - i studied Classics (Latin), Pure Mathematics, Philosophy, English literature (Shakespeare, of course, with some Modern classics too), and chemistry (it's not Physics, but it was what i excelled at). Pretty quickly, my foundations were shaken and I realised that English lit was full of postmodernism (which I couldn't get my head around until several years later), I took a linguistics course (in order to learn better grammar so I could understand Latin - and by second year I had added Ancient Greek and Old English to my repertoire), but instead of being told what's right and wrong, linguistics opened up a whole new, critical, world. then I got beaten up by cops at a protest, fell in lust with chicks and gradually realised that the establishment is boring, got involved in activism, later got burnt by activism, ...
anyway, here i am returning to my roots in some ways. because i do thrive on rigorous intellectual engagement. in some ways i miss maths and chem, the part of me that delights in brilliance, whether i myself am involved, or whether it's vicarious (like reading other people's brilliant ideas). but today my intellectual engagement is intrinsically coupled with an ethical awareness and commitment. At the heart of my ethical values is diversity, and here's where I am challenged - for many of the ideas that i am enthralled by are elitist ... my flash of inspiration in this thought has just fled me and i am left groping for coherence ... i think this all has something to do with class, which i confess i don't have much insight into. i am profoundly middle class in my orientation, passions (classical music anyone?), aesthetics, ambitions, ...
anyway, i have (physical) pain that i need to go deal with now. thanks for reading :>
even though i've basically done 2 arts degrees (and half a law degree), there are enormous gaps in my understanding of what i would consider "fundamentals." i've been filling in (the enormous) gaps in my understanding of Foucault, Butler, Derrida, concepts like "the gaze", postcolonial theory, critical race studies, ... there are a lot of things I've done some reading in, but not enough to say i know even basics of the area.
as an aside, it's funny that i even structure the world like this - into "fundamentals" and other stuff. in many ways it's so elitist and hierarchical and often putting dead white men (or someone similar) up on pedastools, as if their thoughts are more valuable ... and yet all of those i am devouring at the moment are radically anti-establishment; in some ways they are the establishment of the "counter establishment." i think it's deeply ironic and anti-democratic, but yet i am nourishing my intellectual appetite.
the personal irony for me here is that when i first enrolled in uni, i wanted to study "the fundamentals" but i was very oriented towards the establishment's values - i studied Classics (Latin), Pure Mathematics, Philosophy, English literature (Shakespeare, of course, with some Modern classics too), and chemistry (it's not Physics, but it was what i excelled at). Pretty quickly, my foundations were shaken and I realised that English lit was full of postmodernism (which I couldn't get my head around until several years later), I took a linguistics course (in order to learn better grammar so I could understand Latin - and by second year I had added Ancient Greek and Old English to my repertoire), but instead of being told what's right and wrong, linguistics opened up a whole new, critical, world. then I got beaten up by cops at a protest, fell in lust with chicks and gradually realised that the establishment is boring, got involved in activism, later got burnt by activism, ...
anyway, here i am returning to my roots in some ways. because i do thrive on rigorous intellectual engagement. in some ways i miss maths and chem, the part of me that delights in brilliance, whether i myself am involved, or whether it's vicarious (like reading other people's brilliant ideas). but today my intellectual engagement is intrinsically coupled with an ethical awareness and commitment. At the heart of my ethical values is diversity, and here's where I am challenged - for many of the ideas that i am enthralled by are elitist ... my flash of inspiration in this thought has just fled me and i am left groping for coherence ... i think this all has something to do with class, which i confess i don't have much insight into. i am profoundly middle class in my orientation, passions (classical music anyone?), aesthetics, ambitions, ...
anyway, i have (physical) pain that i need to go deal with now. thanks for reading :>
amy
today is the anniversary of the death of my lover, amy, in a car accident. 6 years now.
grief is not linear and it is unaware of how the rest of the world measures time. but this date is always a time for reflection. more than anything, a time to wallow in memories and appreciate her life.
last night i had an extended conversation with a friend who had also lost a lover in a car accident, the year before. our situations were so similar that there was profound recognition as we shared our histories. ... first lesbian love, the awakening into a new way of being, the intensity, the discoveries of unimaginable joys and delights ... and yet the complexity, the "should we really be doing this", the secrecy, the pleasures layered with doubt and shame ... and the brevity. then the shock, the horror, the disbelief, but then almost instantly, overlaid, instinctive, mandated silence, sealed with shame, repression of all feeling, energy spent comforting others instead of grieving ... the evasions, multiple and ever multiplying, "my friend", the uncertainty of what details could be shared, what lies needed to be perpetuated, who knew what truths, or what subtle shades of truth. and then slowly, grief surfacing at unexpected moments, as a car like hers passs by, or someone walks her walk, or has green socks, or shares some trivial detail with her, or something happens and i want her to know.
even now, i am unsure of who to share this whole part of my life with. because our story is hers too and she's not alive to tell me her thoughts.
happily, over time, the emotional landscape becomes less harsh, the complexities and doubts become washed over with a clarity of focus: the fact of love. love happens and it's magic. so today i am giving up feeling any more residual guilt, shame or doubt about what Amy and i shared. I loved her, and I know she loved me. That was beautiful, while it lasted, it was what life is about.
grief is not linear and it is unaware of how the rest of the world measures time. but this date is always a time for reflection. more than anything, a time to wallow in memories and appreciate her life.
last night i had an extended conversation with a friend who had also lost a lover in a car accident, the year before. our situations were so similar that there was profound recognition as we shared our histories. ... first lesbian love, the awakening into a new way of being, the intensity, the discoveries of unimaginable joys and delights ... and yet the complexity, the "should we really be doing this", the secrecy, the pleasures layered with doubt and shame ... and the brevity. then the shock, the horror, the disbelief, but then almost instantly, overlaid, instinctive, mandated silence, sealed with shame, repression of all feeling, energy spent comforting others instead of grieving ... the evasions, multiple and ever multiplying, "my friend", the uncertainty of what details could be shared, what lies needed to be perpetuated, who knew what truths, or what subtle shades of truth. and then slowly, grief surfacing at unexpected moments, as a car like hers passs by, or someone walks her walk, or has green socks, or shares some trivial detail with her, or something happens and i want her to know.
even now, i am unsure of who to share this whole part of my life with. because our story is hers too and she's not alive to tell me her thoughts.
happily, over time, the emotional landscape becomes less harsh, the complexities and doubts become washed over with a clarity of focus: the fact of love. love happens and it's magic. so today i am giving up feeling any more residual guilt, shame or doubt about what Amy and i shared. I loved her, and I know she loved me. That was beautiful, while it lasted, it was what life is about.
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