existence and subordination

"Bound to seek recognition of its own existence in categories, terms, and names that are not of its own making, the subject seeks the sign of its own existence outside itself, in a discourse that is at once dominant and indifferent. Social categories signify subordination and existence at once. In other words, within subjection the price of existence is subordination." -Judith Butler

I would argue that these gender categories give us a sense of existence, a way of feeling we are real. For example, I identify strongly with being a lesbian queer feminist. The way I dress, the way I move and act and talk is informed by this. It is a political act because we know that what we think of as personal is in fact also political. It is a political and personal act because it helps define us and find others who identify similarly or find others who are open to us. When we identify as something or present ourselves a certain way, we are sending out a signal to others about what we do with our bodies (even if erroneously). Gender can also be subversive when it breaks norms. For example, I break what it means in our society for a female to be a woman. I have short hair, wear men’s clothing, often don’t shave nor wear makeup, and identify as a lesbian. Because I break these norms, my identity is often questioned, often even to the point of harassment. This is because my identity is not supposed to exist. Only “straight” “women” and “men” are supposed to exist. Everything outside that is subordinate, deviant.

Yet, this identity is also oppressive, as all identities are a type of subordination, whether you identify as “straight”, “man”, “woman”, “gay”, “trans”, etc. A gendered identity is an oppressive identity because gender is a mechanism of perception that automatically categorizes us, even falsely. We are caught up in something our language has defined for us. And our language is caught up in heteropatriarchy. Under an oppressive society, our language is oppressive, therefore those identities formed under that language are oppressive. As someone who identifies as a “lesbian,” I am caught up in a heteropatriarchal identity that can never fully define me nor my sexuality. Same goes with “queer” and any other identity formed under heteropatriarchy.

Heteropatriarchy is obsessed with categorizing our gender and sexuality so that it may keep us under a system of subordination instead of allowing us our full fluidity. 

fear

witches

I'm trying to learn more about the history of the witch burnings during the 1500-1700. This was an historical event that delegitimized and wiped out women healers (i.e. witches) in order to establish the male medical model. These healers were once respected members of society, but a smear campaign began in order to gain power over healing. This new model of medicine took over and professionalized healing, barring women from entering the profession since only men were allowed to be trained. Women were allowed back in but only as helpmates, who we recognize today as nurses.

victoria woodhull

Victoria Woodhull, the woman who spoke out and fought for the freedom to love whoever we wish outside the bonds of marriage.

Even under threat of condemnation, she went on fighting. She fought for the right to true love, to break free of the oppression to love under servitude. This is not to say that marriage is "bad" but under circumstances of extreme oppression, marital love is difficult. This is not the fault of individuals; although, in a society free from oppression, all would be able to take responsibility. Marriage under oppressive circumstances is a societal problem since our society is not set up to take care of its people.

It is set up to make profit off the backs of the poor, "wretched", and "wicked," condemned by society as "weak": its women, its communists, its blacks, its Mexicans, its queers and whores. I am here to say that I stand with those people, and I will fight for their rights until I die. Even those who stand with the rich, the 1%, are not who we are “fighting”. We are fighting a *system* that holds us under control, docile, never allowed to speak the truth of our lives and experiences without some sort of backlash.

We are under threat of violence for speaking our truth. Speak your truth and don't give up on it. Yes, it is hard at times and is risky business, and you have every right to retreat, to separate, to process. But you will find that nothing else opens up your mind, body and soul than to speak one's truth. So wear your badges of honor (and horror) held high above the self, one that can enter the other, penetrating the depths of another's being: in sex and love.

women as fetish

I do not for one second judge women who decide to do as they please with their bodies. I do, however, question how society has fetishized the female body so that women are expected to use whatever means, whether surgery, drugs, diet, exercise, cosmetics, or restrictive clothing, to find acceptance in a society that will never be able to accept them as they are. It is not vain to be a woman; under patriarchy women are a fetishized commodity. In order to find acceptance from their anti-female society that can't accept their natural bodies, they are expected to commodify their bodies into the form of a "true woman": heeled, high class, skinny, blonde, pretty, white, straight.

audre lorde

we are always off to war

Ferron. Misty Mountain.



Up the misty mountain
wild flowers bind the ground.

Down by the Russian river
force wears those boulders down.

Me, I'm underneath my covers.
Me, I'm trapped inside my brain
well up above the misty mountain
up above the Russian river
up above the bed of longing

The eagle takes the wind
The eagle takes the wind, my friend
The eagle takes the wind

It makes me think of this, my friend
Where does the eagle live in me?

Oh, I am crawling through this city
I say the city will be my home
I say, Farron, you are half-way pretty
And my you never be alone
Be it's gonna be a favor
Be it by the moment gone
But I stood before a mirror
Like an open ended cavern
Like a breathe held in holding

And I barely knew my name
I barely knew my name, my friends
I barely knew my name

It makes me think of this, my friend
Where do I live in me?

I barely knew my name, my friends
I barely knew my name

It makes me think of this, my friend
Where do I live in me?

O it's a planet of resistance
It's a whirling flame of choice
Are you my comrades in persistence
I swear they'll know us by our voice
Though we lay down in dusty corners
We are ragged as a scar
And when we rest our eyes stay open
We are always off to war
We're always off to war my friend
We're always off to war

And it makes my think of this my friend
Where can the quiet be?

O is it up the misty mountain
Where wildflowers bind the ground?

Is it down by the Russian river
Where force wears those boulders down?

Is it underneath my covers?

Is it trapped inside my brain?

Is it up above the misty mountain?
Is it up above the Russian river?
Is it up above the bed of longing
Where the eagle takes the wind.

Come on.
The eagle takes the wind.
Come on.
The eagle takes the wind.
Come on.
The eagle takes the wind.
Come on.
The eagle takes the wind.