Friday, November 5, 2021

Being Queer in Public Space

We've been talking a lot about public space throughout the class, and last week we really honed in on the implications of public space and how it affects different groups. For example, in Mitchell's article, the author argued that public space legitimizes and delegitimizes the public that inhabits the given public space. Mitchell focused mostly on the homeless, and how they are seen as an involuntary public, thus inept to be considered by definition, "legitimate citizens" (p. 118). The author explains, though homeless people are almost always in public spaces, they are rarely considered part of the public.

This made me think about the public as a cisheteronormative space, and how often queer and gender non-conforming individuals have to adjust their mannerisms or performance of identity in public space to not be the target of slurs, violence, stares, or other uncomfortable situations. I thought about how queer folks are often delegitimized in society, let alone in their experiences in public space. I found a great article that talks about these experiences of LGBTQIAP+ individuals' in their first times holding hands in public; some of the excerpts from the informants are endearing and overcoming, but others demonstrate perfectly the danger that queer folks tip-toe around in public.

For example, one lesbian respondent states, "I was 21 in Lincoln, Neb. It was 1996. In a moment of affection, I grabbed my girlfriend’s hand and was promptly threatened by an angry young man who fantasized in great detail about blowing my head off with a shotgun" (Phillip, 2018).

Another informant recalls, "...we really try to refrain from touching too much and rarely kiss in public. Not to say we aren't affectionate in public, but we stay very conscious of what is too much and what might offend people. Less than a year into my relationship with the woman I am now married to, we were walking into a Walmart holding hands. We were talking to each other and paying no mind to anyone else. A man was coming out of the store with his daughter (probably 3 to 4 years old) and made a face at us and then said, very loudly, 'That's disgusting'" (Phillip, 2018).

In my own personal experience, I was closeted in high school when I was dating my ex-girlfriend, and we never touched or stood too close to one another in public. We didn't want to call attention to ourselves, we were uncomfortable and scared, and had to press pause on our affection whenever we were out in public. This is a mild experience. Black and Brown queer individuals face racialised, intersectional discrimination as opposed to white queer folks, and I am privileged as a white, cis-presenting genderqueer individual in my experiences in public as gay.

This privilege is incredibly evident in this breathtaking spoken-word poem I have found on Youtube. It is titled, "To the Transphobic Cis White Gay Men at Pride." The speaker explains, "Did you know that pride was birthed from a [Black] woman with a penis? But most of us still can't call 9-1-1 when we are assaulted; when we are called a tr*nny n***** in the streets. When we are followed home with catcalls and fear lodged in our throats--I wonder, do you still think about the death toll when you come? [...] How there was never a flag to stop us from being murdered?"

I found this poem wildly powerful. I have linked both the Phillip article and the poem below. I hope both sources spark some thought or insight. Thanks all.


Sources:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/21/reader-center/pride-month-gay-queer-expressions.html

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KnXhH5yWoG8&ab_channel=ButtonPoetry

5 comments:

  1. Hi Lou,

    I really enjoyed reading your post!

    As you said, it’s incredibly apparent that public space has been designed to both serve and reproduce cisheteronormativity in one way or another. Public space is a means for social interaction to take place and queer experiences of the public are almost always marked by violence, discrimination, lack of access in general, etc. This is exacerbated by intersectionality of identity – queer folks of color are especially at risk in public spaces. I really think this begs the question, though, how do we create queer and inclusive public spaces within a structurally unjust society? The answers (that look good on paper at least) might be decentralization or cooperative planning. Marginalized folks might not be able to participate in these planning initiatives for various reasons, though. I could also see this being carried out through NGOs present day, which would inherently foster uneven development of new queer spaces. These methods could obviously pose issues if not implemented carefully, no matter which is used. Going into the future, I also worry about the implications of creating new queer spaces. This makes me think about gentrification and queer becoming the new convoluted Floridian (not like the state, I should specify for anyone unfamiliar with his ideas) “creative class”, which, as you probably already know, is a phrase used to serve this agenda.

    Honestly, I’m not sure if there is a way to develop a truly inclusive queer space without a total social revolution/ restructuring. We need them obviously, as another queer person who is sick and tired of feeling like an “other”, but I also think that planning for these spaces should be done in a conscientious way to not disenfranchise the most vulnerable in the queer community.

    Thanks for posting, Lou! :)

    https://culturehouse.medium.com/we-need-queer-urbanism-aee5d5934d40

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  2. Hi Lou, thank you for sharing your experience and the poem-- both were incredibly powerful. It is interesting how even "reclamations" of public space like pride are still exclusionary and supportive of oppressive systems. "To the Transphobic Cis White Men at Pride" exemplified that reality poignantly. Golden said that Pride reminds white gay men that they "were once oppressed," it allows them to "use (their) Donald Trump keycard to swipe into (a) marginalized experience," displaying it celebratorily in public. Pride-goers fly the rainbow flag, another symbol that "forgets the death toll of Black and Brown queers."

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  3. Lou, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences. I found your post to be very powerful and moving. It's incredibly unfair that queer and non-conforming individuals have to hide and suppress their identities and mannerisms when in a public space. Having spaces where LGBTQ people can simply exist in their own skin and express their identities needs to be more prioritized. Planners are responsible when creating space that caters to people needs of all sectors of the population and should strive for inclusivity and safety specifically in LGBTQ spaces. A suggestion could be for planners to better recognize sites that are important to the LGBTQ community and work closely with programs/activists that promote inclusion and safety in queer spaces. I follow an account on Twitter that is a network for LGBTQ planning professionals called Planning Out that works to create, protect and enhance queer spaces.
    Increasing the number of these networks and programs is a step in the right direction towards inclusivity in these spaces.

    I also really enjoyed the poem you included. Thank you for sharing Lou!

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  4. Thank you for this post! I can definitely relate to being scared to reveal my same-sex relationship in high school. My school was not a place of expression for LGBT people. If you haven't already, I think the book Queer Phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others by Sarah Ahmed is worth checking out. The author is a queer theorist and writer. She writes about place and space in relation to being queer, and how that influences the hierarchies we have created in society. I like it because it challenges the structures of power in our culture (like why cisgender and heterosexual people have more privilege in this world than queer people) and it is related to what we have been discussing in class because it encourages us to think about queer peoples' relationship with public space.

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  5. Awesome post Lou!

    There are many things in your post a can relate to as a gay man, I remember holding hands with my ex-boyfriend and being told "That's disgusting" as well.

    Creating queer spaces is such an interesting and frustrating topic to me. For example, some of the queer spaces that most people know of is a gay bar/club. While for some this can be fun, it can be a toxic enviroment at times, with excessive drug use, alcohol, and possibly sexual assault. Not every queer person wants that loud space. I love how organizations create gay sports leagues for example to encourage healthier lifestyles than nightlife, for example. Gay Cafes are becoming popular as well. I for example, take part in queer tango, I'm able to express my gayness without dealing with hypersexualized enviroments like clubs. But once again, these are in select areas, and all queer folk need a sense of place wherever.
    Your post made me reflect on queer geography, and the different intersections of how people in the LGBTQ community experience fear. The poem you shared for example states
    "Because how would you know what a rainbow is without our skin refracting you into a cause?" when regarding white gay men ignoring and marginalizing POC and trans in our community. While yes, white gay men can experience terrible forms of homophobia, it's vital to remember those most effected in our community, and lift each other up and let those most hurt speak.

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