Femininity and the Value of Self-Integration
In the ongoing culture war over orientation, particularly for teenagers and young adults, queer sexual labels have come to bear incredible amounts of weight, even in comparison to other sexual labels. Sexuality is obviously quite weighty on its own; nearly all our swear words and insults have their origins in some kind of sexual slur, and our society regards sexual dirtiness with a heightened level of disgust. When kids call other kids gay, or girl, or sissy, they tap into the weight of these forces, though it's often overlooked. I've become fascinated of late by the way that both the heteronormative world and the LGBT+A community itself treats sexual/gender labels - gay, straight, trans, queer, bi, pan, asexual - as inherent, monumentally-important, immutable labels, as though the words in and of themselves have some kind of incredible power. Many LGBT youth, myself among them, feel as though the people around us (from media to politics to church to friends and family) pay too much attention to the labels and too little attention to what they mean about them. At the same time that some are calling for people to just calm down and not care when their kids and friends and peers come out to them, others respond that it's anti-climactic and disappointing when they're actually given no reaction. I believe we should try to shift toward understanding people as gay instead of gay as people.
This might seem like an unfair burden - How can people know what they can't see or label? - but it's simpler than that. For many LGBT people, coming out is a huge statement of personal self-awareness and awakening, because identifying something (even if it might not be the perfect descriptor) connotes everything from a part in this powerful, prideful community - like realizing one day that you're black, or Brazilian - to a personal realization about the complex ways your gender and sexuality influence your interactions with everyone around you. Gender and orientation are deeply-rooted, fundamental pieces of us and everyone we know - there are huge dangers in letting either of those things go unrecognized and unappreciated. (That's no radical thought - heteronormative mainstream Christianity has had this down with gendered Bible studies and retreats and devotional books for decades, and for people suited to those things, it's a powerful way of fostering healthy community.) I could go on all day about the issues born of assumptions that people are straight or cis, or a certain type of male and female that are often too rigid for the dynamic personalities of individual people. But what I'm interested in for the moment is that those people with an understanding of the importance of gender/orientation appreciation often confuse fundamentality with permanence, which also has a bunch of regrettable side effects. The labels we pick should not be what is recognized and celebrated as ends in and of themselves. If we come to appreciate an individual as immutable in any of these categories - female, male, straight, gay, cis, trans - we create artificial standards and rigid boxes for that individual, which threatens the authenticity of whatever's being appreciated in the first place.
In Lisa M. Diamond's 2008 study "Female Bisexuality from Adolescence to Adulthood," a few alternative understandings of sexual labels are presented. Research has shown that especially among women, there are more ways of understanding sexuality than a binary between gay and straight, or even a third rigid option called bisexuality, although some people do relate to their orientation that way. She mentions an alternative view that suggests that “variable patterns of same-sex and other-sex desire and behavior may emerge in any woman over time, and might simply be more pronounced among the subset of women who identify as bisexual. According to this view, the distinction between lesbianism and bisexuality is a matter of degree rather than kind, and women’s adoption of a bisexual versus lesbian identity may have more to do with her self-concept, ideology, and intimate relationships than with her sexual 'essence' (Golden, 1996; Rust, 1993).” Contrary to popular belief, orientation is not some kind of biologically predestined certainty. It is not a gene, it is not a physical trait like eye color, it is not exactly like race. It make be likened to those things, and I often do, because it's an easy metaphorical contrast to frequently-employed unhelpful metaphorical counterparts (like alcoholism or a disposition toward anger), but gender and orientation are complicated and often shift over time. For many people, it does operate as a permanent condition, but it's important to recognize that all categories break.
The defensiveness with which LGBT people have to approach culture in regard to their adopted labels creates a perception of artificial rigidity concerning the labels. I'm fascinated that most people had little change in the genders they were attracted to over the course of the 10-year study, but that there was quite a bit of fluctuation in the adopted label, regardless. It seems as though even if people do have one central disposition, that it's a way of relating to gender that might be permanent, and not the actual patterns of attraction themselves. I know that although I recognize strong patterns of continuity in the character, the "soul" of the development of my own orientation, the genders and sexes I find attractive during any given period of my life have fluctuated considerably. The study suggests an explanation for this tendency: "bisexual women’s attractions [vary] over time, but these variations center around a relatively stable set point. One potential interpretation, then, is that both the 'third orientation' and 'heightened fluidity' models of bisexuality are correct; that is, bisexuality may best be interpreted as a stable pattern of attraction to both sexes in which the specific balance of same-sex to other-sex desires necessarily varies according to interpersonal and situational factors." The degree to which this "specific balance" varies seems to differ from person to person as well, amounting to a huge amount of potential orientational variation in any group of people. The labels are not the orientations themselves: they are humble descriptors of every individual person's unique orientation. And this thing that so profoundly and deeply effects the way we perceive each other is what I believe communities of all sorts - schools, churches, neighborhoods, families - ought to celebrate.
It occurred to me while reading this article that much biphobia that results from this culturally-reinforced rigid approach to orientation may be linked to sexism. Women have historically been understood as fickle and temperamental, prone to changing their minds about things that ought not be changed. If this tendency has been discriminated against, then even male-directed biphobia may be linked to a hatred of their "feminine" tendency toward fluidity - obviously not just sexual fluidity, but perhaps other qualities, like empathy, mercy, or compassion over practicality, fairness, and efficiency. Bisexual people are frequently seen as people going through a phase, as confused, or as kids experimenting. But Diamond's study doesn't indicate that there's anything particularly unstable about bisexuality at all: "these changes [in adopted label] do not appear attributable to social or developmental factors such as psychological immaturity, instability, or fear of stigmatization." Without any correlation of bisexuality to the instability it's associated with, it seems rather pitiful to continue to discount bisexuals as people of a lesser orientation, or people that are only "half-gay." It isn't coincidental that there is a higher rate of bisexuality among women - I'm not going to deny that these tendencies toward fluidity can be correlated (to some degree) to femininity. But perhaps this ability isn't a negative thing after all.
In my Psych 151 class, we reviewed the functions of the left and right brain and the ways the two hemispheres interact with one another to allow for holistic thought. The corpus callosum, which connects the hemispheres and allows them to work in sync, is sometimes severed in patients with severe seizures. Studies on these individuals have shown a complete inability to put right- and left-brained thoughts together and integrate their thoughts. My rudimentary understanding of neuroscience prompted me to wonder whether the larger corpus callosum in females, which I've heard mentioned in contexts where (straight, rich, Christian, white) men described women as "scatterbrained" or "overly-emotional," might contribue to a greater capacity for self-integration. Perhaps this same quality so often condemned as instability might be the very key to women's rediscovery of their own, more authentic, approach to psychological stability: a heightened ability to make connections between the rational and emotional sides of the brain. It's no wonder that men often think of themselves as less emotional if less emotions are likely to be communicated to the left side of the brain, and that's a fair way of dealing with things; but what if femaleness (or perhaps femininity? I'm not quite sure how the neuroscience works at this level) could be used to help individuals reduce harms that result from the compartmentalization of thoughts and feelings? Perhaps making more connections could help the system to remain more stable; perhaps the brain could become more resilient in the face of external change and be capable of more fluctuation without harm. Perhaps feminine bisexuality is every bit as fluid as it's accused of being - and maybe we could come to understand that as a particular strength of feminine stability instead of demonizing the natural shifts of our desires.
Although it has been culturally necessary to move away from an understanding that sexuality can be changed because this idea has been used by conservative institutions to force LGBT people to suppress their identities and personalities, I would love to see a time when we no longer have to tell people we were "born this way" to let them know we're proud of who we've become, that our identities are authentic and legitimate. Maybe something more like, "Ooh, there ain't no other way, I'm on the right track, baby, but I became this way through a very complicated series of environmental and endocrinological factors that science will likely take centuries to explain." Not that that rhymes very well, but it's much closer to the truth. My hope is that we could celebrate beyond the label, looking to the person inside it. That goes beyond political action and moral judgment: this is about loving people, and getting to know their full, beautiful personalities exactly and completely as they are.
This might seem like an unfair burden - How can people know what they can't see or label? - but it's simpler than that. For many LGBT people, coming out is a huge statement of personal self-awareness and awakening, because identifying something (even if it might not be the perfect descriptor) connotes everything from a part in this powerful, prideful community - like realizing one day that you're black, or Brazilian - to a personal realization about the complex ways your gender and sexuality influence your interactions with everyone around you. Gender and orientation are deeply-rooted, fundamental pieces of us and everyone we know - there are huge dangers in letting either of those things go unrecognized and unappreciated. (That's no radical thought - heteronormative mainstream Christianity has had this down with gendered Bible studies and retreats and devotional books for decades, and for people suited to those things, it's a powerful way of fostering healthy community.) I could go on all day about the issues born of assumptions that people are straight or cis, or a certain type of male and female that are often too rigid for the dynamic personalities of individual people. But what I'm interested in for the moment is that those people with an understanding of the importance of gender/orientation appreciation often confuse fundamentality with permanence, which also has a bunch of regrettable side effects. The labels we pick should not be what is recognized and celebrated as ends in and of themselves. If we come to appreciate an individual as immutable in any of these categories - female, male, straight, gay, cis, trans - we create artificial standards and rigid boxes for that individual, which threatens the authenticity of whatever's being appreciated in the first place.
In Lisa M. Diamond's 2008 study "Female Bisexuality from Adolescence to Adulthood," a few alternative understandings of sexual labels are presented. Research has shown that especially among women, there are more ways of understanding sexuality than a binary between gay and straight, or even a third rigid option called bisexuality, although some people do relate to their orientation that way. She mentions an alternative view that suggests that “variable patterns of same-sex and other-sex desire and behavior may emerge in any woman over time, and might simply be more pronounced among the subset of women who identify as bisexual. According to this view, the distinction between lesbianism and bisexuality is a matter of degree rather than kind, and women’s adoption of a bisexual versus lesbian identity may have more to do with her self-concept, ideology, and intimate relationships than with her sexual 'essence' (Golden, 1996; Rust, 1993).” Contrary to popular belief, orientation is not some kind of biologically predestined certainty. It is not a gene, it is not a physical trait like eye color, it is not exactly like race. It make be likened to those things, and I often do, because it's an easy metaphorical contrast to frequently-employed unhelpful metaphorical counterparts (like alcoholism or a disposition toward anger), but gender and orientation are complicated and often shift over time. For many people, it does operate as a permanent condition, but it's important to recognize that all categories break.
The defensiveness with which LGBT people have to approach culture in regard to their adopted labels creates a perception of artificial rigidity concerning the labels. I'm fascinated that most people had little change in the genders they were attracted to over the course of the 10-year study, but that there was quite a bit of fluctuation in the adopted label, regardless. It seems as though even if people do have one central disposition, that it's a way of relating to gender that might be permanent, and not the actual patterns of attraction themselves. I know that although I recognize strong patterns of continuity in the character, the "soul" of the development of my own orientation, the genders and sexes I find attractive during any given period of my life have fluctuated considerably. The study suggests an explanation for this tendency: "bisexual women’s attractions [vary] over time, but these variations center around a relatively stable set point. One potential interpretation, then, is that both the 'third orientation' and 'heightened fluidity' models of bisexuality are correct; that is, bisexuality may best be interpreted as a stable pattern of attraction to both sexes in which the specific balance of same-sex to other-sex desires necessarily varies according to interpersonal and situational factors." The degree to which this "specific balance" varies seems to differ from person to person as well, amounting to a huge amount of potential orientational variation in any group of people. The labels are not the orientations themselves: they are humble descriptors of every individual person's unique orientation. And this thing that so profoundly and deeply effects the way we perceive each other is what I believe communities of all sorts - schools, churches, neighborhoods, families - ought to celebrate.
It occurred to me while reading this article that much biphobia that results from this culturally-reinforced rigid approach to orientation may be linked to sexism. Women have historically been understood as fickle and temperamental, prone to changing their minds about things that ought not be changed. If this tendency has been discriminated against, then even male-directed biphobia may be linked to a hatred of their "feminine" tendency toward fluidity - obviously not just sexual fluidity, but perhaps other qualities, like empathy, mercy, or compassion over practicality, fairness, and efficiency. Bisexual people are frequently seen as people going through a phase, as confused, or as kids experimenting. But Diamond's study doesn't indicate that there's anything particularly unstable about bisexuality at all: "these changes [in adopted label] do not appear attributable to social or developmental factors such as psychological immaturity, instability, or fear of stigmatization." Without any correlation of bisexuality to the instability it's associated with, it seems rather pitiful to continue to discount bisexuals as people of a lesser orientation, or people that are only "half-gay." It isn't coincidental that there is a higher rate of bisexuality among women - I'm not going to deny that these tendencies toward fluidity can be correlated (to some degree) to femininity. But perhaps this ability isn't a negative thing after all.
In my Psych 151 class, we reviewed the functions of the left and right brain and the ways the two hemispheres interact with one another to allow for holistic thought. The corpus callosum, which connects the hemispheres and allows them to work in sync, is sometimes severed in patients with severe seizures. Studies on these individuals have shown a complete inability to put right- and left-brained thoughts together and integrate their thoughts. My rudimentary understanding of neuroscience prompted me to wonder whether the larger corpus callosum in females, which I've heard mentioned in contexts where (straight, rich, Christian, white) men described women as "scatterbrained" or "overly-emotional," might contribue to a greater capacity for self-integration. Perhaps this same quality so often condemned as instability might be the very key to women's rediscovery of their own, more authentic, approach to psychological stability: a heightened ability to make connections between the rational and emotional sides of the brain. It's no wonder that men often think of themselves as less emotional if less emotions are likely to be communicated to the left side of the brain, and that's a fair way of dealing with things; but what if femaleness (or perhaps femininity? I'm not quite sure how the neuroscience works at this level) could be used to help individuals reduce harms that result from the compartmentalization of thoughts and feelings? Perhaps making more connections could help the system to remain more stable; perhaps the brain could become more resilient in the face of external change and be capable of more fluctuation without harm. Perhaps feminine bisexuality is every bit as fluid as it's accused of being - and maybe we could come to understand that as a particular strength of feminine stability instead of demonizing the natural shifts of our desires.
Although it has been culturally necessary to move away from an understanding that sexuality can be changed because this idea has been used by conservative institutions to force LGBT people to suppress their identities and personalities, I would love to see a time when we no longer have to tell people we were "born this way" to let them know we're proud of who we've become, that our identities are authentic and legitimate. Maybe something more like, "Ooh, there ain't no other way, I'm on the right track, baby, but I became this way through a very complicated series of environmental and endocrinological factors that science will likely take centuries to explain." Not that that rhymes very well, but it's much closer to the truth. My hope is that we could celebrate beyond the label, looking to the person inside it. That goes beyond political action and moral judgment: this is about loving people, and getting to know their full, beautiful personalities exactly and completely as they are.
I'll first of all compliment your article for being rather provocative, not in the sense of being shocking but in provoking me to articulate a few thoughts I've been having in relation to how we think about people in general.
ReplyDeleteOur theories of personhood in the West are still closely bound, in fact if not in word, with highly deterministic and mechanical conceptions of matter and existence. Since we can't go through life thinking that our closest friends are clusters of quarks, we have to invent some kind of ineffable soul that contains their personhood. The trouble with souls is that we think of them as untouchable and eternal. Whatever we attach to our identities can thus easily parasitize us, making us think that they're somehow fundamental to who we are.
I'm wrestling with how to implement this throughout my thinking, but I think that it would be better to think of people as contingent and non-ultimate. All of their identities are fluid and fickle, even ones that seem encoded by genes or that are rooted in some physical trait. This is a little disorganized but I hope I got something across here.
Thank you for the compliment. I like being provocative.
ReplyDeleteYou've sparked a thought in me that these ideas might link outward from here to concepts of race/ethnicity, class, religion, ability, personality type, or even things like highschool clique cultures. It brings a whole interesting film onto interpersonal interaction interpretation formulas... If we're pushed to recognize all pieces of identities as fundamental to some degree or another, but simultaneously understand that nothing fundamental is NECESSARILY permanent, we could have a much easier time finding and celebrating and building community with the "ineffable soul," as you say, in some ways.
Also might link to the way that *very* parasitic labels, like "smoker" or "drunk" or "cutter" or "loser" or "slut" might effect our self-understanding... If this distinction between fundamentality and permanence could be made with more frequency and success, it could be easier to help people shift locus of control without invalidating the sense of identity and community they've built around their struggle.