Of our assigned readings this week, I responded most strongly to "Butch, Bi, and Bar Dyke: Pedagogical Performances of Class, Gender, and Sexuality" by Michelle Gibson, Martha Marinara, and Deborah Meen. I think this article is especially relevant because of the current political storm, which makes the divided and contradictory nature of our country all too apparent. Identifying as an American, or even as a Democrat or Republican, has transformed from an answer to a prompt for more questioning. In many ways, academia as it is presented by the three authors in the article, can be viewed as a microcosm for our country as a whole. Now more than ever, Americans are being questioned about their dossiers, about what makes them a valid citizen of the country.
When discussing class distinctions, the author that identifies herself as Bi mentions that the social narratives about one's class identity "are [...] fairy tales; the reality is an identity that never quite fits, is never quite comfortable, authentic, or believable" (Gibson, Marinara, and Meen 73). This doesn't just apply to class identity, but to any identity, most notably writer identity. I think that a lot of students believe a "fairy tale" about identifying as a writer. In their minds, a writer is an amalgamate being composed of so many dust jacket pictures and coffee-scented stereotypes. It wears a turtleneck sweater, speaks in beatnik riddles, and keeps a bandolier of ink quills and effortlessly brilliant papers on its chest. It may or may not have a moustache and the brooding eyes of a pachyderm. Seeing that they're not this mythical creature, these students decide to reject "writer" from their identities. That, or they try to quantify the writer identity: "Well, a person is a writer once they're published." "A writer has an MFA." "A writer works at a newspaper." The truth is that those are fairy tales too. There are plenty of published, MFA-holding newspaper journalists that don't feel comfortable calling themselves writers. It's almost a paradox. A writer is someone who writes, yes, but also someone who is comfortable "lying" about being a writer.
Another quotation from the same part of the article actually made my eyes tear up as I thought of it in relation to my own identity: "I can talk or write about my working-class past, but I no longer live in it. I have no real identity there, and I have no real identity in the professional class; I only have the dream" (Gibson, Marinara, and Meen 74). I feel this way at the current hour of my life. I struggle to identify as a graduate student because of the difficulties I'm having adapting to grad school life; I also know that I'm no longer an undergrad, and I'm certainly not a professional anymore (despite working a full time office job for 6 years before focusing on school). I'm not really an adult, but I'm not a child. I'm just kind of here, dreaming of becoming something, and wondering when any moniker will fit without bunching at the seams or draping like a tent.
Going back to the whole political theme (I know this blog has been disorganized; forgive me), I think something said by "Bar Dyke" toward the end of the article can be taken as the best advice for all of us. "I believe that constructing and performing our nontraditional identities through personal experience is an inherently political act designed to transform the public spaces we inhabit from oppressive realms into inclusive realms" (Gibson, Marinara, and Meen 92). There is a chance that in the coming years, the social climate of our country will change drastically, that many more identities will be seen as "nontraditional." The best thing we can do is perform our identities, whatever they may be, as authentically and loudly as possible. We must show the nation and the world that we the people will tolerate nothing less than "inclusive realms," even if oppression becomes the norm.
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