Feature on my Art in the Huffington Post today.
"Today the dandy remains an influential figure in queer culture. Take, for example, photographer Sophia Wallace, who captures modern dandies with her sharp-edged lens, capturing the strength and fierceness not normally associated with typical feminine beauty. Instead these dandies emanate an androgynous beauty available to men, women and transgender individuals.”
Posts tagged Sexuality.
The process of “coming out of the closet”–when imagined as an act of political resistance–can, indeed, be seen as an emancipatory intervention. It is often considered the only means of survival for queer people. But, what would it mean for us–for queer people–to move from a mode of survival when our survival has always been connected to our ability to daily “come out” from a “closet” that some of us may, or may not, have ever inhabited? What does it mean for us to move from a state of quotidian protest to that of radical resistance when our sense of self and communal agency is ostensibly acknowledged and thought to be actuated only after we “come out”, only after we name and define ourselves over against heterosexuals, only after we speak out (even if we really want to keep some things “in”), only after we march in pride parades (even if we feel shame because some pride parades seem to absent other essences of our identities), or only after we live openly and always marked as a lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or questioning person (even if the labels themselves seem to delimit the fluidity of and/or experiences of our sexed and having-sex selves)? I wonder, then, if it is really efficacious to speak of our processes of self-disclosure, our moments of self-identification as LGBTQ/queer people, and the practices through which we become self-aware by way of the “coming out” metaphor.
Homeless LGBT Youth: Living on the Streets at the Dangerous Intersection of Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity, Race, and Class ›
by Laura A. Hughes, Executive Director of the Ruth Ellis Center
Article’s like Tatchell’s exhibit the exact concerns I attempted to address in my response to the email I received after posting my my Whitney eulogy. It’s so clear that Tatchell’s investment is not in honoring Houston or her relationship with Crawford. Rather, Tatchell sees Houston’s death as an opportunity to forward his own agenda. Houston is not a friend, but an example. And using people as examples is a horrendous thing to do, as it selectively chooses the portions we find (un)acceptable and does away with that we do not in order to preserve or undermine a myth we have locked in our minds.