Heteronormativity vs. Queer Theory; or, Butler applied

Let's start out here:

A month ago I went and saw a psychic who told me I was going to write a book in three years. I'm not a total sucker, but I figure that psychics and astrology are as good a tool as any to get you out of a rut, and that's what I was trying to do. So, do I feel like my success as a published author is imminent? Shit no. But I sure do like writing, and I might as well start somewhere.

Mostly, my writing is about my own emotions (I have a lot of feelings, in general) or really obtuse sociological theory. The 'general public' doesn't want to read either of these genres, unfortunately. But I am venturing, in this blog and (maybe) in the aforementioned book, to do a little bit of blending of those two, in hopes that I might come out with something a little more palatable. Worth a shot anyway.

So, here it goes. For context:
I do my professional work at a GLBTQ youth drop-in center. Like a boys and girls club (except way cooler), we are open about 30 hours a week, and youth (12-24) can come in, hang out, use the resources we have here, make friends, etc. We have activities - dances, drag shows, workshops, political education - and support groups, STI/HIV testing, food, short term crisis counseling, and a variety of other stuff depending on the month. I've been doing this job for a little over two years, and (just FYI) I don't have a formal education in this field - which absolutely impacts my perspective of my job.
I'm hoping this blog will be part an account of the sometimes really crazy adventures each of my days bring, part an unraveling of the complex and nuanced ways in which this community functions, and part a learning (for myself and whoever else ends up reading this) about how things can change, how they stay the same, and what agency we have in both.

I want to maintain as much confidentiality as possible for the youth I work with (and, to be frank, for myself) so I'll use pseudonyms generally, unless I have the explicit permission of particular youth. Same goes for my co-workers. Pictures will also be limited to people I have direct consent from. Just so you know, I take that sh*t seriously.

And with that out of the way . . .

I should say right up front that I read Judith Butler's "Gender Trouble" for the third time this past Monday. I'm taking a Queer Theology class and in order to get everyone up to speed, we spent a little time with some seminal Queer Theory texts. I'm warning you because, yes, I totally do get sucked into Butler's crazy (if somewhat conceited) rhetorical mind-fuck.

Gender here is complicated, and in general, much queerer than most LGBTQ communities. Youth is frequently the place where boundaries are pushed, crossed and dismantled. Its not so much that identity is fluid here (it is, sometimes, but not as much as other adults like to say) its that the lines are fuzzy, jagged, constantly shifting. Youth change pronouns by the moment, don't concern themselves with passing, identify as one gender and present as another . . .but identity is irrationally important. Words matter.

Monthly there is a drag show, and in approximately one hour January's show will be upon us. There is a lot of tension about performances. Sometimes this is about people's positionality in the social network, but it is also frequently about the legitimacy of a certain gendered performance. There are traditional drag queens and kings, there are trans identified youth who are doing drag (of varied stripes and variety) but the most populated genre of performance is what has been termed "faux drag" by the youth community.

Before I even get into the particulars of what "faux drag" is here, I think the language itself is worth some interrogation. "Drag" according to the all powerful Wikipedia (in some other post I will discuss why that is almost the only 'reference' I will ever use in this blog - intentionally - and for definitive political reasons) is "any sort of costume, but particularly one which does not match one's gender identity." And while I generally think that explanation doesnt carry with it the cultural weight that drag is endowed with and should therefore be mired in (even at play), I do think its a departure point. A costume is not our usual wear - it is something different, something distinctly marked as performative, something that we ourselves do not identify with, something used to tell a story, elicit reactions, establish difference.

"Faux" of course, means "fake." Fake as in "not real" or fake as in "incorrect" - false. Judged. Faux is another destabalizing word.

So what to make of "faux drag?" Is this an instance (my mother's english teacher voice is rumbling around in my head) of the dangerous "double negative?" That doesn't seem entirely rightt. Because while drag somehow indicates something that is not usual (for us), something that is intentionally constructed, something that points towards the lunacy of "authenticity" - it does not mean unreal or fake or false. As associated as it may be, for many people both within and outside the LGBTQ community, with "unreal" men or women, in the most PoMo Butlarian sense, Drag is not synonomous with false or fake. And yet, there is something unusual - if not redundant- about indicating that the drag being done is "faux."

In our particular circumstance, "Faux Drag" means a youth who is performing to a song sung by a performer of the same gender as the youth while wearing clothing that is commonly associated with people of the youth's same gender. So, you may wonder, where exactly is the "drag" in this faux  drag? and is calling it "faux  drag" just a way of justifying non-gendered performance at the "Drag" show?

There certainly are a lot of youth who do traditional drag who feel this way, and often feel particularly offended when these faux drag-ers seem to be the primary performers during the evening. And, to be fair, I see their point. It ain't easy to bind your boobs or tuck your package - for starters. And its not easy (even in the queerest of communities) to show up in high femme drag or put on a mustache when you're railing against your reality in every other facet of your life. And its easy, from that vantage, to see faux drag as an easy way out.

On the other hand, there is something too simplistic in the idea that drag must always mean taking on the opposite. This reifies the traditional narratives that the LGBTQ community has built its (unfair, problematic, irrational) borders on, and beyond being simply exclusive, it also fails to interrogate gender in any significant way. I don't want to sound like a snobbish post modernist (but I will) - that's so been done.

And the performances are often (if not always) about investigating some element of gender presentation, subcultural affiliation, or simply personality in a distinctly performative way. There are female identified folks looking sexualization head on, playing with the idea of sluttiness, promiscuity, objectification in ways that would otherwise be dangerous. There are male folks who take some sensitive rocker ballad to its logical conclusion, and in so doing look more closely at the limited "sensitivity" we allow in masculinity.

Listen, I'm not saying that these kids have some sort of corner on the advanced and complex fucking of gender, or that they would even call what they are doing "interrogating masculinity" (indeed, I am far more  sure that they would laugh heartily at me saying that about them) but I am saying that as convoluted, ethereal and confusing as Judith Butler is, she might have gotten a few things right, and if you'd like to see what she got right in action, you should come to a drag show.

************************************************************************************
I'm going to make a wholehearted attempt to blog from Creating Change - the nation's biggest LGBTQ conference. I already have a lot to say, but seeing as how it took me nigh on a week to get this post up, no promises on the promptness.