"He just wanted to be himself without being political about it."

What happens when you live in a society where your mere existence is political? When you being what you are necessarily flies in the face of your society's idea of what's appropriate? You don't search for controversy; you are it. I mean, isn't that the problem? That choosing to stop dying your hair may be political but it may well not be; society treats both colors the same. But choosing to come out as queer has to be a political statement, it can't be anything else. This is because you have been politicized whether or not you agreed to it. You have no choice but to be political.

— political girl | Unregistered, Swarthmore

First up, I am not quite cogent right now, so nothing I say is guaranteed to make sense.
Anyway, you actually try to educate people with comics? Because my standby has always been to make the scissoring gesture with my hands and to explain the mechanics of the sex I'm bitterly not having with a large amount of sarcasm that will not be understood, thus exasperating the situation.
But it makes me feel better, so I don't care.
But that is an awesome comic anyway. I wish it came in Chick tract format. I'll have to get on that.
Other than that, I sadly seem to agree with everything you said, and thus cannot heckle you. This brings me great sorrow that only hot Dalek-on-Cyberman action can alleviate.

And political girl: your mere existence is not political unless you wish it to be. Just as SQU members often oppress themselves, you may be politicizing yourself. And shoving that auto-polticalization into your subconscious, where it won't nag at you.
How do I know this? Because there is nothing political about my being queer. There might be personal one-on-one scuffles, but that is not politics so much as a test of my ability to duck. I have never felt the slightest bit politicized, and most people definitely don't perceive me as straight, so there you go.
And yeah. Trying not to get into fights with rock wielding skate-thugs in Center City is not political, because hyenas do analogous things to each other, only with their teeth.
And do hyenas understand politics? No!

I wonder if that was coherent. I suspect it may not have been.

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore

political girl--

You don't search for controversy; you are it.

See, some queer people I know seem to feel like this politicizes them automatically, and some don't. I know that for myself, I do feel political in some spaces, i.e. church, and not political in others, i.e. most of Swarthmore.

Coming Out Week is weird for me because most of the time at Swat, I don't feel political, and am grateful for it, and suddenly BAM! it's Coming Out Week and goodbye to that place I was grateful for. But obviously if I felt constantly politicized at Swat, Coming Out Week would be awesome because I could finally express that constant feeling.

So there's an irresolvable contradiction here unless we want to tell one group they're wrong and should feel the other way.

I really do respect how you put it, though, about not searching for controversy but being controversy, and being politicized whether or not you agree. Going to go sleep on it now.

— Dr. Strokes | Unregistered, Swarthmore

I like the fetish map cartoon you link at the end. It’s not quite as detailed or complete as the fetish roadmap, but since I’ve been unable to find an image of the fetish roadmap where most of the words are legible, this is pretty awesome. On a sidenote, if you’ve seen a version that is legible, I’d love to hear where you found it.

I’d post more thoughts on coming out week and my own experience with it but it’s already kind of overwhelmed my life and I told myself I was going to set it aside for a while.

— FFL | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Unlike political girl, I was going to praise you for your statement, "He just wanted to be himself without being political about it, and he felt like Swarthmore made that impossible."

But political girl's reasoning is hardly convincing, as she relies on her old and not so reliable tween wisdom which dictates things are the way they are because she says so. "But choosing to come out as queer has to be a political statement, it can't be anything else. This is because you have been politicized whether or not you agreed to it. You have no choice but to be political." WHY can't it be anything else? Her statement is electrifying because it depends on no evidence and instead emerges from an ostensible senescent and sizable scar. And as I think we all know by now, emotion derived policies (DRILL NOW DRILL HERE! GAS TAX HOLIDAY! Let's 'suspend' our campaign... JK!) usually aren't so effective.

Unfortunately, political girl isn't the only member of the queer community who seems to believe being queer is political and that it demands involvement in queer advocacy. It's clear that some of our 'opponents' fervently abhor us, but most of these opponents exist outside urban areas, and as the NYT has frequently reminded us about the '08 election, average Americans care less about the GOP-popularized wedge social issues and are concerned more about simple economics. Does prejudice still exist in America? Sure, but it's nowhere as bad as it was 10 years ago. We can see timely evidence of this in Hollywood. Not so long ago, it would be nearly nauseating for USA Magazine or People to talk about gay relationships; now it's almost a faux pas not to. And though I don't plan to exactly idolize LiLo (Lindsay Lohan for those not in the know), we can learn from her 'coming out story' in that after coming out we didn't see her immediately join a PFLAG organization; she didn't start marching every day of her life. Rather she chose to LIVE HER LIFE.

Being queer isn't a political issue unless you want it to be. I can live a pretty awesome life free from general oppression in NY or MA or CA or IL or FL etc. Or, I could *make it an issue* by moving to a place where I might not be so popular. And ultimately, if some legislation comes to the floor that seriously affects me, den I's goinz ta get pohliticahl. For now, however, I plan to live what ideally should be –– and certainly is the Swarthmore bubble –– a normal life.

— whateva | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Brava, Dr. Strokes. You're the first person to talk {in a public forum} about how some of the stuff going on this week is kind of a counter to the actual goal.

As a queer person, I was embarrassed when I saw a couple of the chalkings {although 2006 seems like it, uh, took zee cake}, but it was something I had difficulty expressing to others in the community.

So, thanks!

PS: Your column is great. Keep trucking.

— A. M. | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Loved the column.

Coming Out week has been a serious challenge to me ever since my years as a student at Swarthmore (the mid 1970s). Who knew then that I was going to have to relive the ambivalence of that week every year for the rest of my life! Ah yes, those chalkings. Some years they thrill me, some years I cringe. Yes, the gnawing compulsion to be political about things that on a good day I am just trying to work out so that I can function. But the politics is not about whether some moronic people think I don't have a right to live or whether they want to express their opinions violently. The politics is lodged in the fact that I still cannot access fundamental benefits of citizenship, in a society whose rhetoric trumpets equality of access. And of course I'm not the only one for whom the gap between the rhetoric that promises equality and the willingness to enforce it sometimes seems unbridgeable.

Don't take this the wrong way: I don't want to get married. (My partner and I are just too much the product of the 70s). But yes, it does matter that all his social security benefits can't go to me, or that there are more than a thousand laws that bar us from access to the civil rights many people take for granted. And again, one thing that makes it political I think is the glaringly unacknowledged contradictions between rhetoric and law. Being political in one way or another (students, faculty, staff, alums) actually transformed Swarthmore in the 1990s from a queer-intolerant--or overwhelmingly ignorant-- community to one that that took action on several crucial fronts (like health benefits) where the state simply discriminated. What produced those changes here was a lot of constant talk, a lot of constant negotiation, and probably even a lot of chalking... Being political doesn't demand loud statements of identity--identity itself is such a constraining and often useless term--but it does demand talk.

— Pieter M. Judson | Unregistered, Swarthmore

What bothers me is the idea that simply coming out as queer is a political statement. For me it was just a matter of convenience, and I expect this is true for a lot of people. Actually, I wasn't really in the closet in the first place, but whatever.
I wouldn't mind a flame war about LiLo. I can't stand her.

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore

I suppose I let *my* emotions get the best of me. Basically someone from the queer community (not lying; not paraphrasing) told me my feelings/outlook was invalid and wrong.

— whateva | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Thanks for the link Dr. Strokes, I've been hunting for a full-sized version of that for weeks and have only found small ones or broken links. Really looking forward to next week's column!

— FFL | Unregistered, Swarthmore

I think I count as queer. Some parts of Coming Out Week seem open-minded and welcoming, others make me feel like I don't exist, and being queer is innately sexual.

— asexual | Unregistered, Swarthmore

I don't mean to be a douche, but what do you all mean by political? I think I know what you intend, Dr. Strokes, but I'd be curious to hear it in your words.

— ari | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore

Ari, I think that's totally the best question to be asking right now. When I disagree with people about whether coming out is innately political or not its usually because we disagree about what political means (and it seems to me that that's what's happening here). When I say political (and I am by no means speaking for anyone else, including the SQU/Coming Out Week Planning community of which I am a part) I mean personal social/cultural politics. Not governmental politics in the way of democrat or republican or down with the government, but rather an engagement with society that forces people to stop and think, that questions social norms, expectations, perceptions of reality, whatever. What that means is that someone can be political without any intention because there mere existence can force people to question in that way. As a result, in my world coming out can be political whether you want it to or not. And I certainly agree with many people that that's often painful and not what I want at all. Often times I want to hide and not be political but there are times when that is not an option for me because I am out and queer (and in the times when I'm closeted, the silencing politics of the world crash in on me). Coming out is political because if you have to tell someone that you are queer it means that they were assuming you weren't queer before. Therefore, in coming out you have forced them to confront the reality that queerness, which is socially non-normative, exists.

Some people are intentionally political, many more are not. And others still are privileged enough by their position in society to have the option of not being political at all. That is a privilege. People who do not belong to a socially privileged group (and there are tons of overlapping, intersecting ones) do not always have the option of not being political in the way that I define it. Thus the inability to choose to be apolitical comes from a position of privilege.

BUT (and this is a big but) people who have the privilege of being apolitical still impact the social/cultural politics of society in a big big way. Because I see oppression and privilege as systemic issues, I think that simply choosing to be silent (that is, apolitical) when the option is yours, reinforces the oppressive, silencing system we are. But silence is not the only option afforded to privileged people (Hooray!). They (we, depending on what we're talking about) can often speak up (yay allies!) and do so with less threat to personal safety than, in this case, queer people (but really all oppressed groups), and are usually taken more seriously by other privileged non-allies than queer people are.

OK so by now, if you stayed with me at all, you're probably like "woah woah woahhhhhh how did we get all the way here from the definition of political?" It may seem far away but I really do think that it's impossible to understand political in the way I do without understanding oppression as systemic. So that's where it comes from. That's what I mean when I say political, and hopefully it clears some things up.

— Sasha R | Unregistered, Swarthmore

You know, I think this column helped me more than anything else to understand why the 2006 chalkings bothered me besides the fact that everyone around me was upset. Things seem to be better this year, at least. Or at least not as... tumerous.

— Amber | Unregistered, Swarthmore

I'm not sure how I feel about your comment, Sasha. I am not what one would consider privileged, and with respect to social politics, I feel that I could have easily allowed myself to become politicized, but I skirted that by simply refusing to take people seriously.
And so far as telling people that I'm queer, my experience has been that, yes, some of them assumed I was straight (and if you know me you'll probably find that amusing), but many of them didn't assume anything. Like asking me what my major is, not assuming I was one thing or another.
And, in all fairness, it isn't all that terrible to assume that someone is straight, seeing as the vast majority of people are. It isn't an assumption that I feel comfortable making, and I may openly mock people who do make that assumption, but it is an understandable assumption to make.
How politicized one feels probably has a lot to do with where your comfort levels are. I don't feel politicized when people ask me awkward questions, for example, and if I was being politicized I'd know it, because politics make me puke.

There have been rare occasions in which I have been nauseated by having some sort of politics forced on me, and in those instances, those attempting the politicizing were invariably members of the queer community.

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Nothing's going to change my support of queer individuals, but it does make me question my classification of asexuality as queer and also my support of the greater queer community, just a little. To me, hypersexualizing queerness undermines it, because to me, sex means a whole lot less than other aspects of queerness (while I understand it is important to others, that's where I'm coming from), and at moments I feel like that's all "the community" cares about, even though I know that's not true.

I keep looking for some kind of chalking related to asexuality, but I haven't found it. I don't consider myself closeted, but I don't randomly tell people. If it comes up, I generally will try to explain, but that often consists of people arguing with me (especially because I "came out" as bi before I understood that I am more complicated that crushes on guys, girls, and a genderqueer or two making me bi). I'm a freshman, and I haven't explained it to anyone here yet. I considered going to NOTA, but I'm not sure it would do anything for me and, although it's silly, I think I'd be a little disappointed if I showed up and no one there knew any asexuals.

— asexual | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Hey Sasha. Thanks a lot for writing such a thoughtful, engaged response. Your definition, ("an engagement with society that forces people to stop and think, that questions social norms, expectations, perceptions of reality") really made me think. Your definition of political is, at core, combative; by "forcing" other people to engage with you, you are not only declaring your own opinions, but directly challenging the worldviews of your peers.

I think this is a good definition for some political activity, but not all. Being queer in a context that does not accept it is definitely a combative position, because so long as other people think being queer is unacceptable, simply being queer throws down the gauntlet. But does all political activity have to challenge others to be considered political? I don't think so. If I wear a McCain button to class, I am not directly challenging the Obama supporters' opinions, just declaring that I see things differently.

This is not trivial, I think, because it gets to what sort of community you perceive Swarthmore to be. Really, do you (and this question is open to everyone) think, on net, that Swarthmore is hostile to queer people? If it is, then your type of political action, Sasha, which challenges others to renegotiate their conceptions of reality, is the only type possible. If, however, Swarthmore is queer-friendly, then it is possible to have a McCain button/Obama bumper sticker type of political dispute, in which, going by google's definition, political means "of or relating to your views about social relationships involving authority or power," and we can disagree peacefully.

I don't mean to set up a black and white choice; I think a community like Swat can be both hostile and friendly to queer people at different times. I also think that if you believe Swat is truly hostile, graduating is going to suck; after school, it's probably going to get worse.

I think how hostile you perceive swat to be is proportional to how much you need to offend people, to remove them from their silent complacency. Judging by 2006, that group of chalkers must have really felt Swarthmore was awful, because they really offended me. As a freshman, I had to wonder if the oppression at this new-found paradise was so severe that it merited drawing graphic sex where young children walk. I felt it wasn't, and so I felt the chalkers were being immature (look at me I can draw a penis on the sidewalk isn't college great!1!!1) and disrespectful to the people who felt offended (that letter which insinuated all those offended were homophobic...). Looking back on it, I find that opinion much too harsh, but I feel that the if chalkings engendered that reaction (and many people to whom I spoke felt similarly), they were somewhat counter-productive.

So to get back to what it means to be political, Sasha, I think your definition has serious drawbacks. If to be political means to challenge (and that really translates to "offends the sensibilities"), then you preclude starting the conversation politely. If Swat is such a hostile community that there can be no civilized discussion, that would justify politics as combat. However, I don't feel that way, and if you (anyone!) do, I would like to know why.

— ari | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore

All these responses are really interesting and thoughtful--thanks Dr. Strokes for starting this conversation!

I just want to throw another distinction into this definition of political. I think that there is (or at least I believe there should be) a distinction between the politics you have to exist in because that's who you are (experiencing and responding to homophobia, for example), and the politics you choose to make central to your actions and beliefs. This seems to me to be important because both queer and straight people can choose to make this important, and queer people can also choose not to make it important to their beliefs.

What I'm really reacting to, Sasha, is the idea that there are only two options--a self-conscious political identity or complicit silence. If that's not what you meant, then never mind. But it seems to me that there is a middle ground of addressing the issues that happen to you personally, but not choosing to make queerness the center of your identity.

I was closeted in high school mostly because I knew that if I came out all anyone would ever see about me was that I was "the bi girl." OF COURSE it's a privilege to be able to exist without that, and of course it's a struggle to maintain that. But I would be wary of saying that the only way to have a positive impact on the world is to center one's identity around queerness.

It seems to me that what makes identity politics so powerful--that they spring from a core of personal experience--can also make them dangerous, because while it's admirable to harness the power of your identity to further a goal, that shouldn't be the only good option for what to do with that power. Surely just existing as a queer person can have a positive impact? Again, back to high school, I was totally inspired by my physics teacher, who was very matter-of-factly out and also a completely awesome person. She made me realize that being queer didn't have to mean being fundamentally different from everyone.

To make a ridiculous analogy--being a very political queer is kind of like doing Honors, with Swarthmore itself representing the group of the privileged. It's intense, it can be more difficult, but that doesn't make it the best option for everyone, and it doesn't make the people who are in it better. Everyone's coming from a different place, and everyone has to live their lives as a whole--according to their priorities as a person, rather than only as a queer person.

— Abbey | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Dear asexual,

I encourage you to go to NOTA! I'm a junior currently abroad, but I know most people (well, upperclassmen) in the group and I promise you are not the first asexual. Nor are you the first person whose desires/sexuality/gender/what-have-you don't fit neatly in a box - that's what we're all about. Being a small and paradoxically both very broad and highly specialized group, we also try very hard to respond to the needs of the people who come to meetings. It's true that it may not do anything for you, but it might, and rumor has it the snacks have gotten way better this semester.

— NOTA '10 | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore

Dr. Strokes, I just want to say that I've read your column since the beginning and it's been a good and thought-provoking read, kudos.

As a recent visitor to Swat from across the pond, it really struck me how different the cultures are between where I'm from (Oxford, England) and Swarthmore. From an outsider's perspective, or perhaps just the perspective I got whilst there, Swat is like a self-contained community which differs wildly from the rest of American society and even English society. It seems like there are a lot more queers - or alternatively, the same number but they are more active/militant - and especially in Coming Out week they dominate the political landscape of the college.

Coming Out week is a great thing, and I wish we'd had an analogue of it in Oxford (I'm straight, but I recognise that it can be really helpful to those who are still in the closet). It's admirable to bring these issues to people's attention and demonstrate support for those people who are out and who choose to come out then.

However, it seems there's the potential to be counter-productive. I guess Chalkings 2006 would be the example; the backlash from the community was not against Coming Out week or the gay community, and blaming it on homophobia is a little bit of a stretch - it was against the hypersexualising of the week and the "in your face" attitude that a minority demonstrated.

The underlying problem here is not that people are being in any way malicious in their expression (I believe that they weren't), but that there is the danger of misinterpretation. Militancy anywhere whether it be religious, social, or even for one's sports team is associated with fanaticism. There are always going to be reactionary people, but even otherwise reasonable people balk when they have people up in their faces.

A good example of this from Oxford life is with the controversy over the new animal testing laboratories which the University recently constructed. The local animal rights group, SPEAK, were incredibly militant to the point where they started upsetting students. They set fires and destroyed property, and then came out to threaten anyone connected with the university (including students) as fair game for attacks if the University didn't stop. Of course, a great majority of the student population then took a stand against the animal rights group - these are students who were probably on the fence or apathetic before, who might even have been wooed over to the AR side. The militancy of the group really worked against them.

Perhaps the lessons learned here are that whilst it's admirable to get out and declare that being queer is normal and okay, you shouldn't really push the hypersexual stuff in people's faces.

Chalkings like "I hate straightness" (even if it's meant to be satirical) aren't likely to warm straight people to the queer cause and as such are counterproductive in developing the sort of alliances central to promoting it. The danger is also in turning "being queer" into a militant statement, just as feminism has been hi-jacked by a militant crowd and now (however wrongly) it is associated with that attitude. Acceptance was never won by forcing things on people, it's won by including people.

Coming Out week is a brilliant concept, and long may it continue in a tradition of acceptance and of all points of view.

-Dave

— Dave | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore

Last year's chalkings were not only offensive, but clearly indicative of the queer community's belonging to the Yahoo Race. However, the content of said chalkings was not so disconcerting to me as the reaction of SQU kids when I mentioned that they weren't exercising their free speech in a responsible manner. The idea that rights came with responsibility seemed to scare the crap out of them, and I was accused of being an anti-free speech Nazi as a result.
Which is a tad harsh, I think.
At any rate, SQU in general seems to encourage the crafting of one's identity from one's sexuality, which, though not inherently bad, results in a lot of people with pretty damn shallow identities.
This is the primary reason why on campus there exists a small population of queers who attend SQU purely for comic relief.

I think a lot of the militant groups on campus, queer or otherwise, are militant because their members feel unable to do anything meaningful. Much like political riots, in which I participated frequently before I wised up, really offensive action tends to be a product of impotent raging against an enemy that does not exist. At Swat, that means freaking the hell out about homophobia on a campus that is patently not homophobic. We could be concerning ourselves with queers getting publicly executed in the Middle East, but, since we'd be almost powerless to resolve that problem, that energy is redirected at Swat.

Or maybe some people have serious persecution complexes.

Dave - I heard about the students who stood up to that AR group, and it was a brilliant demonstration. Militant groups of that nature, who get to the point of not only being violent, but anti-scientific, are the reason why I left the radical community. Nice to actually have been at Oxford and able to witness that.

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Argos, you made an excellent point:

"Much like political riots... offensive action tends to be a product of impotent raging against an enemy that does not exist."

cough... Swarthmore.

— whateva | Unregistered, Swarthmore

We're still not sure anyone has answered Ari's question earlier of what everyone means by "political." Sasha seemed to be saying that "political" just means being non-normative, and many others (Ari's response included) seem to say that "political" is a militant position taken up by a small proportion of all non-normative people.

Going with the "political = non-normative" angle, here's how just being different can be political. Everyone, just by existing, fits in with some group or groups. However, some people, whose groups are in the majority, are able to set up their lives so that no one ever challenges the way they act out their group identity. These people, when they come to a place like Swarthmore, where other people look or act differently, are shocked. They tend to say things like, "Whoa, you people are weird," and "Don't you know it's not normal?"

Some people, whose identity (because that's what these groups really are) is not in the majority, have often been confronted with the majority identity, either through mainstream media, or through actual interactions with majority people. They know that they are seen as "different." As such, when they perform their identity, they are aware that it is in contrast with the majority identity.

For queer people, there are many ways to perform queer identity. One of those ways is coming out. When a queer person comes out, they declare their belonging to a non-majority group, often to a person who is in the majority. This is a risky act.

Whenever I (one of the two people writing this is queer) come out, I worry: "What will this person think?" Will they say, "you don't look queer," trying to put me into a stereotypical box from their position of privilege? Will they say, "I hope you're not one of those militant people," letting me know how they now expect me to perform my identity? Every time I come out, I think of it as political, if only because I must identify myself with a group. Ari pointed out that by wearing a McCain button, a political activist identifies themselves with the McCain camp, with all the associations that brings with it. As a queer person, coming out feels like putting on a big rainbow button.

As for "political = militant," once people come out, they have to pick their battles for themselves. We often don't have the energy to pick a fight with every person who brings up a sensitive issue dealing with our identities. But that doesn't detract from our identification with our groups. Therefore, our lack of what is defined by many on this forum as "political activity" doesn't detract from our being political.

Passing is a privilege that many people in the queer community do not have. People who cannot or do not pass may not have to come out for others to see them as “queer,” as a political body. But the choice to engage in “political action,” or action that works towards some ideological goal, is their own.

— Two Monkies in the Middle | Unregistered, Swarthmore

"However, it seems there's the potential to be counter-productive. I guess Chalkings 2006 would be the example; the backlash from the community was not against Coming Out week or the gay community, and blaming it on homophobia is a little bit of a stretch - it was against the hypersexualising of the week and the "in your face" attitude that a minority demonstrated."

Having chatted a little with people, I recognise that this was an inappropriate thing to simply baldly state without qualification. I should clarify that this is merely the impression I had from reading the Phoenix and other newspapers and talking to people who were there. I wasn't there, and I don't in any way mean to assume that I know as much about the issue as those who were.

To clarify further, I recognise that coming out week is different for everyone and people have different ideas about what sort of expression the week is about. The point I was making was about the potential problems of antagonising apathetic people outside the queer community, which I thought I'd add to Dr. Strokes' concerns about antagonising those within it. From what I could see, Swat seemed to be a very inclusive place and that's brilliant, and long may that continue.

Again, apologies if I caused offence.

— Dave | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore

(This entire comment is basically going to be a sign that I've been here too long - fair warning.)

Sasha R - So, if I understand your definition of political, a political person is someone who forces others to think about the system. We can think of everyone in terms of two types of people: normative and non-normative (or, alternately, oppressor and oppressed). Normative people don't force normative people to think. But I also think it's not always the case that non-normative people force other non-normative people to think. And, non-normative people don't always force normative people to think because that demands a moment of confrontation (such as coming out). But normative people *always* force non-normative people to think, because otherwise non-normative people would not become aware of their non-normativity. Therefore, under your definition, the only people who are apolitical are non-confrontational and non-normative, *unless* your definition says that the only important thinking is thinking done on the part of normative people forced by non-normative people, *or* that it's impossible for a non-normative person to be non-confrontational.

Certainly there are people don't partake in discourses about privilege or oppression, but I don't think these people are all normative. This might be my elitist impression, but it seems to me like the ability to discourse about privilege and politicization is in itself a privilege.

I think we're using the same definition of political discourse, being one about social power and normativity. And we both describe the people who take part in that discourse as political. But just because other people conceive of you as part of a political discourse doesn't mean you necessarily conceive of yourself in that way (which is part of what I think Argos has been saying). It seems more like if you choose to operate -- for whatever reason, including that you feel forced to -- in a political paradigm, then *everyone's* political in one way or another.

— Ariel | Registered, Swarthmore

I just want to reiterate that I definitely do believe that just because someone is acting in a political way (as I define it) does not mean they are choosing to or are even conscious of it. So yes, non-normative people need not be consciously political and many (as I said before) are not.

If you really want to get into it, I actually believe that everyone is political because we all live in a world with certain politics. Normative and non-normative people alike. Normative people impact the politics of the world through their actions too. Staying silent is hugely political in that, if you are privileged (in other words, that you are supported by the current system), your silence allows the politics of the moment to continue (and you are, by extension complicit in them whether you like it or not). The more relevant distinction, for me, may lie in the ways in which people are political - whether they are conscious of it or not, or whether they are willingly political or not. For example, if someone outs me without my consent, it's political but I don't want to be political then at all. Or when I'd rather blend in but can't, things like that. (I do not by any means think that anyone should be forced into any kind of politics. That includes coming out. I feel very strongly that it's an individual's choice to come out and issues of safety and preexisting relationships matter a whole lot. I do, however, feel that people should at least think about politics critically, especially normative people who have the easily available option not to.)

I do think that privileged people are not forced to be political in a way that questions rather than supports the normative order against their will unlike people who lack that privilege. They have the choice to be silent and therefore complicit (and safe) in the current politics. This also means that non-privileged people are way more likely to be consciously political because they've been forced to go against mainstream politics in a way that normative people have not.

I also think it's important to keep in mind that there are multitudes of different kinds of privilege and lack there of and that these categories intersect and overlap. Most people (everyone?) is privileged in some way and not in another. This "normative" and "non-normative" person of which I speak is an ideal type. Not someone who actually exists. We all have a bit of each of them in us to varying degrees in different times and places. So, keeping that in mind, if you can think about the ways in which you are sometimes forced to be political in a way you never meant or wanted to be, it can wake you up to the ways in which your existence alone can be political whether you want it to be or not. Hopefully, that also wakes you up to the ways in which your silence/silencing of others is impactful as well in the moments/ways you are privileged.

So, being an ally (yay!) might mean never forcing someone to be political in a way they do not want to be and also (this is a big one) helping to open up the space for people who are not privileged to be political in ways that may undermine your privilege. That actually does mean stepping back far enough that you may not have a say in the direction of the movement (in this case, the queer movement). Yeap, you may think that talking about sex is not a part of our (queer) liberation but actually that's for us to decide. And I know, it's messy and we don't all agree but really give us some space to figure it out amongst ourselves crazy as that gets. You don't feel the pain so you don't know where it hurts! So please, step back step back step BACK!!! (That means shut up! There's your complicit silence and then there's the silencing of non-privileged people which ends up doing the same thing.)

But you know what's awesome? Your privilege allows you to open/gain access to space and allow room for new voices in a way that people lacking that privilege can rarely do - at least with as much ease. Also, other straight people are way more likely to listen to you than to us queer people. So it's easier for you to make allies of them than for us. See? there's a lot of work to be done by all of us. And you can help so much! The biggest work of turning non-allies into allies is a great place to make a difference and a place where you really can. We really need all the allies we can get. Only please, step back and take us SERIOUSLY. The issues we need to resolve within the queer community about what our liberation means is actually not the place for you to weigh in at all; it's for us to figure out (and please remember there are millions of us and we will never all agree cause, hey, we're all different). But please, be an ally. We need you.

— Sasha R | Unregistered, Swarthmore

I'd like to forget the purely academic discussion of the definition of the word "political," a word which I think, much like the label terms eschewed by the student panel on Monday, needs to be replaced by something more specific to the context.

The motive for the chalkings that is always forgotten is that the chalkers do it for themselves, not for anyone else. Not to make friends or allies or to educate anyone but to be able to express everything they may feel they need to keep under wraps the rest of the year. They have every right to do this, but, as Argos says, they are also responsible for thinking about the consequences it will have. (I say “they” only because I have not participated in the chalking, and only referring to those to do participate in it.) Sasha, when people chalk all over the school, they are no longer “figuring it out amongst themselves,” they are figuring it out amongst everybody. Again, they have every right to do this, but they should remember that they’re not just yelling this off a mountain top. They are expressing themselves in a community space and I would really like to see them express their grievances and try to solve their dilemmas in a community fashion. I have “stepped back” for two years because I know that I can never understand what a queer person has gone through or goes through every day, but if this column and this discussion show anything it is that the controversy doesn’t only offend some more sensitive people on campus and damage relations between the people that write them and the people that are offended by them, it strands people that are in the middle, whether allies or queer students such as asexual and Dr. Strokes.

There’s a chalking behind Parrish that says “Allies: step up!”. I’ve tried to be the best ally I could be over the past two years and attended events both to support the queer community and to learn how to be a better ally myself. I fully understand that I am in a better position to make people allies. Tell me where, tell me when, and I'll be there, and in the meantime I'll try to keep spaces safe for queer voices and queer identities. I fully respect you and take you completely seriously, but please, please don't tell me to shut up. That hurts. I try to be constantly mindful of where you are coming from and how my words and actions will affect you, and all I ask is that you do the same.

Respectfully,

— Cole | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Hey Cole,

Sorry about the shut up. You're right it was way harsh. When I said that it was coming from a place of hurt rather than a constructive place. So yea, I don't actually mean shut up at all. I shouldn't have said it that way. Sorry about that and thanks for all your hard work and all that you've done in the way of being an ally.

— Sasha R | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Dave - You didn't say anything wrong or unqualified, and there was no need for you to apologize just for providing a little criticism. You raised an excellent point.

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore

In my ideal world, straightness is like queerness.

— F | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Only one thing can express the way that kind of statement makes me feel:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPgHbt0ODr4&feature=related

You need to back that statement up, mate.

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore

"In your perfect world, would queerness be radically different, or would it be like straightness, but with more same-sex sex and less gender binary?"

Similarly: If alternative sexual identities were accepted by society, should there still be a distinct "queer community"? What would be its distinguishing characteristics?

— Lucas Sanders | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore

No Lucas, only the assimilationists want to be accepted. And SQU eats assimilationists for breakfast. With artificial butter-flavored syrup.

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore

I really appreciate this column. I know my bisexual best friend would be uncomfortable with a lot of the chalkings, and as a straight girl who is opposed to promiscuity in general, I wondered how many other people felt a little discomfort last week. I think Coming Out Week is brilliant, don't get me wrong--but I felt that if a straight person made sexually graphic chalkings on the sidewalk, I would erase them. Because of all the shit I know LGBT individuals have to go through, I felt it would be disrespectful for me to erase chalkings this week. This forced me to temporarily hide in my room and feel like I must be the only virgin-on-purpose on campus. I think, personally, that that wasn't supposed to be the goal of the Coming Out Week chalkings... the ones like "all love is good love" and "love makes a family" were more positive and accepting of everyone who walks around campus.

— K | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Dear K,
You're not the only virgin-on-purpose on campus. I was walking with my friend past the chalking that said "I'm a dyke who f---s dykes" and she said (she's bi, by the way) "Well, yes, if you're a dyke who else are you going to f---?" and I said "Well you might be a virgin." The funny thing is, we're both virgins but somehow the more graphic/explicit chalkings on campus made us both forget that we existed in that capacity. I really do agree with everything you've said; it does feel sometimes that some of the chalkings are prejudiced against virgins (especially virgins-by-choice).

— Rachael Mansbach | Unregistered, Swarthmore

It crossed my mind that the "I'm a dyke who f---s dykes" could have been intended to be opposed to bisexual women or women who reject such labels or use less common ones.

— z | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Sasha-

I hate to be adding to the nonconstructive mountain of shit that gets piled on the chalkings every year and I feel like just another pain in the ass continuing to talk about this, so try to keep in mind this all comes from a positive place. The point I was trying to make was that some of the chalkings seem to come from a similar place to the place of hurt where your "shut up" came from. It's anger and it's very legitimate, but everybody has to feel it, even the friends of those who write them. So, the point I was trying to make was that in any public space, whether it's a comment thread on a Daily Gazette column or a sidewalk in front of Parrish, I would like to see people keep in mind who they are talking to and consider how what they say will affect those people instead of firing off into a void in which they perceive the target of their frustration. I realize this is not the purpose of the chalkings, I just think we'd get a better dialogue going and better alliances built that way.

— Cole | Unregistered, Swarthmore

Cole, I think you make an important point. I've been wishing for two years now that we as queers and as Swatties could have some kind of discussion about our responsibilities to the community and the appropriate use of public space. It's difficult because the point of the experience of the chalkings is getting a chance to be public about these things, but the experience of making them--in the dark, with only other queer people--makes them feel more personal than they look during the day. Then they look like this really really public thing, and it appears absurd that the people who made them weren't thinking about what they would look like to others.

Do we as queers have responsibilities to the community of Swatties that might interfere with our uncensored chalking experience?

— Abbey | Unregistered, Swarthmore

You have responsibilities to the community as human bleeding beings. Not "as queers".

— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore