This is a continuation of my last post: Making Sense of #MeToo, Part 2
The other problem I see with #MeToo, at least as it currently stands in the media, is that it’s divisive – whether or not it is intended that way. It’s largely pitting women and men against each other. Instead of being everyone against rape and sexual assault, it’s coming across as women against men who have or show any kind of sexual interest. I know… I know… patriarchy has put women in that position for years… correction… centuries. I get that, but two wrongs don’t make a right and two extremes don’t make for a fair, balanced, and equal society. It also raises everyone’s fears and anxieties over sexuality. For women this might mean raising fears that there are predators and pedophiles around every corner. For men it raises fears that any outward expressions of interest or sexuality could lead to public shaming, even job loss.
When the movement starts ousting men for the slightest expressions of sexuality because they don’t hold up to the highest ideals of sexual purity or for past incidents that maybe they’ve grown from, eventually you’ve got a lot of men on the outside. When it gets to that point it really does become a battle between women’s sexuality and men’s sexuality – rival sexualities and possibly rival moralities. Keeping on task and showing forgiveness for minor or unintended transgressions (especially if the accused makes a public apology) would mitigate some of this and ensure that the movement doesn’t lose its male allies. Right now, even seemingly sincere apologies are being met with hostility. A total zero-tolerance, zero-forgiveness stance will only lead to ongoing backlash against the movement.
While women are less likely to hold positions of power over men in our society, the #MeToo movement should also hold women accountable for sexual abuses against men in the workplace. It may not be as common, but it still happens. And just look at all the female high school teachers accused of sex with underage male students in the news. By shining the spotlight on women, not just men, such an action would show that the movement isn’t just a witch hunt against men. Right now almost all of those accused in #MeToo stories are men. They might be straight or gay, but they’re almost exclusively men.
Perhaps a problem too with the movement is that #MeToo isn’t really a proper movement per se, it’s really a large number of people telling their stories. Those stories are mainly about abuses and alleged abuses by celebrities and public figures. There is value in that because it raises awareness of the challenges that women endure in our society. It might also provide many with relief that their story is finally being told and heard. Seeing all these cases also raises awareness that men, even the “woke” guy next door, might not be immune to the impulses of their sexuality or to the institutionalized differences of sex and power between men and women in our society.
If #MeToo is to become a real movement and not just a means of revenge and shaming, I feel like the #MeToo folks should come up with some kind of unified platform or policy. Such a policy could keep the media from fully dominating the dialogue on these issues where the media currently interviews people and picks stories that are likely to provoke controversy and increase their ratings. Such a policy could outline levels of sexual abuse from the severe to the trivial and decide what actions are appropriate for each. The movement should also have a designated spokeswoman to weigh in on the issues. That would also help alleviate many of the mixed messages about the movement coming from media interviews with random women. Even prominent female celebrities and public figures might have different views on the movement and each case brought forward. Perhaps the movement could start a legal fund to help women who are currently or recently victims of abuse; and perhaps too the movement could work toward helping mitigate counseling costs for those who have been traumatized by sexual abuses. Perhaps the movement could host workshops on better communication about dating and sex for both men and women. Hopefully, the movement would distinguish between positive sexual expression and negative sexual abuse. Hopefully too, the movement would extend forgiveness to well-meaning men who have made trivial offenses or who made larger offenses in their past, but have since learned and grown from them.
This is a continuation of my last post: Making Sense of #MeToo, Part 1
Another thing that has been thrown around a lot by #MeToo advocates is that victims of sexual assault, harassment, and even those less heinous sexual infractions are traumatized by their experiences. There’s no doubt that some things are inherently traumatizing – rape, assault of any kind, being the victim of violence. On the other side of things, being publically shamed, or losing one’s job or career can also be traumatizing, though perhaps some people deserve that trauma. There have been others who have argued that that you can’t really put a degree on trauma and that all trauma for victims of sexism is equal. In this view, it doesn’t really matter whether someone was raped or traumatized because another person got a little handsy or flashed out his privates.
I can’t buy that for a number of reasons. The main thing is that trauma is subjective and individual. What traumatizes one person might not phase another. I think emotional trauma is often caused by the crossing of one’s own individual issues and boundaries by another person. It can’t always be predicted, and sometimes the offender is an external mirror of one’s own shadow and subconscious fears. I had a co-worker once who was traumatized by the thought that the folks mowing grass outside on riding mowers were chasing her. I suppose they could have been, but they were likely just a little reckless and going the same direction. If our legal system saw all traumas to victims of crime as the same, someone might get the death penalty for jaywalking. Our courts of law weigh the trauma of the victims along with the rights of the accused and the severity of the crime.
I’m not a woman so I can’t weigh in on women’s experiences of sexism in our society, but I am a gay man and I can draw some parallels with my own experiences of homophobia. I don’t weigh all instances of homophobia as the same, nor can I say that all instances of homophobia were inherently traumatizing. Ironically, “innocent” uninformed homophobia from family, friends, and loved ones might have been more traumatizing for me than incidents that involved threats of violence. I once had my life threatened for being gay by a group of men standing outside my car with tire irons. That’s been far less traumatic for me than some friends I’ve lost because of their anti-gay religious beliefs. That doesn’t mean I believe these former friends should be publically shamed for being party to a homophobic religion, though perhaps the religion itself should be. I’m not even sure the guys with the tire irons should be shamed 30 or so years later. After all these years, I’d like to hope that both the guys with tire irons and the former friends have evolved on these issues and become more tolerant. I guess if they were still chasing LGBT folks with tire irons or if they were running for public office on a platform of hate that might be different.
This might be a good time to bring up my own story of being on the wrong side of a harassment claim. I’ve told this story before in my podcast in an episode on ageism in the gay community. I had just turned 30 and had been working for only two, maybe three, years as a staff person for the university where I graduated. I’d also been heavily involved in the gay student group on campus as a student and upon returning as a staff person I’d gotten back involved in the LGBT community on campus including showing my support for the student group. There was this guy in the group that I developed a sincere attraction toward. I’ll call this guy John. I made the mistake of mentioning my interest to another guy (I’ll call him Mike) who was involved with the group, and asking if he’d help set me up on a date with John. Mike was a graduate student and he was appalled because there was an age gap between me and John. Apparently all older gay men who are interested in younger ones are predators or so seemed to go the narrative going around at the time. This narrative was also used to shut down talks of an LGBT mentoring program. All the younger gay men needed to be protected from the older ones. To put this into perspective, I was 30 and John was in his early 20s. John was of legal age and at worst a decade younger than I was. When I was his age, I dated men in their late 20s and early 30s. The ironic thing was that Mike was dating a faculty member who was probably 20 or 30 years his senior, though I’m under the impression they started dating before coming to the University. After I let Mike know I was interested in John, I started feeling less and less welcome at events, some things I was doing for the group like updating their web page were pulled from me, and John’s friends seemed to block any efforts I made to just try to get to know him better.
Things got even more complicated when I wanted to go to an LGBT conference with the student group that was taking place in a faraway city. I was denied transportation with the group in the bus they were taking so I ended up driving the entire 700 mile trip on my own to attend the conference. I’d see John here and there and usually I got a smile and a friendly hello. At one event he even sat down across from me and we had a friendly conversation. I knew that he knew that I was interested. I had sent him a few e-mails enquiring about going out sometime. As someone kind of shy and awkward, e-mail was my preferred method of communication. I know I didn’t say anything lewd or make any kind of sexual references. That’s always seemed a bit crude to me, and I was interested in dating and not just sex. The e-mails and other messages were never answered so I didn’t know whether he was being coy, not interested, or if he was just a person who didn’t check e-mail. Looking back, I can see that I was somewhat persistent, but I don’t believe I did anything inherently wrong. I felt like his friends might have been pressuring him not to interact with me, but I don’t know whether or not he was actually interested. He never said he wasn’t and never himself implied that I was bothering him. I totally admit that I’m terrible about reading people.
The crashing culmination to this story was when I was called in to talk with someone at the Human Resources Department at the college. The resource officer repeatedly talked down at me for having an interest in a student, despite the fact that I was literally only a few years from being a student myself. At the same time, despite the harsh condemnation, she affirmed a number of times that I’d done nothing wrong. I wasn’t in a supervisory position over the student. I hadn’t forced myself on him. I hadn’t said or done anything inappropriate sexually. She justified her condemnation by saying that the college looks down on relationships between staff and students. Things might be different at an isolated rural college, but at an urban institution where there is so much overlap between the university and the community that doesn’t even seem a reasonable thing to say. It’s very common for staff to have spouses, family, and friends who attend as students. Our college has a number of older and non-traditional and returning students. There are also plenty of opportunities for folks to meet in the outside community and then discover that one person is staff and another person a student. Such condemnation would be different if one party was a professor or supervisor and the other party was a student in their class or an employee under their supervision. None of this applied to me.
The thing about this situation is, if John had simply been upfront and direct, if he had told me in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t interested, I would have moved on. Perhaps I was expected to be a mind reader or to pick up on unspoken signals. Aside from not being good at that in the first place, this situation was complex and I do feel at times I got mixed signals from John, even if his circle of friends seemed hostile toward me.
This experience was extremely traumatic for me. I felt humiliated and shamed. After all these years, I have the maturity to understand that ultimately it was miscommunication between me and John that led to the event, and I have enough respect for him (and even his close circle of friends) to change their names for this post.
It was after this that I dropped out of all my involvements with the LGBT community on campus and even off campus. It was over a decade before I’d even went back to a gay bar or gay event. Even now, I probably err too far on the side of caution by rarely asking anyone out at all. I have a friend who frequently suggests “what’s the worse” that could happen if I ask someone out that I’m interested in, that maybe they’d say “no.” I know it can get far worse than that.
As someone who’s introverted, socially awkward, and a little geeky, I also know the toll it takes on one’s self-esteem to be rejected on a regular basis by people I’ve taken a romantic interest in. For many this could lead to desperate attempts to get their emotional and sexual needs met. While I’ve never forced myself on anyone sexually, I do admit that in my past (especially in my 20s) there were many awkward attempts to win someone over that I’m not especially proud of. Mostly I was just overly persistent because I bought into those movies about the socially awkward guy winning his love interest in the end. Sometimes I let my imagination run loose when trying to impress someone (Justin, I’m not really a Timelord… or am I?). And because of my shyness, there were lots of notes and e-mails expressing my interest, often before I’d developed a real connection with the person I was interested in.
I guess what I’m really trying to suggest in this post is that people are human on all sides of this issue. We all have potential for trauma, and it’s not always rational. And sometimes the real issue is miscommunication and differences in expectations.
To be continued…
I’ve been watching the #MeToo news over the past few months, and I have to confess that I have mixed feelings about the movement. While I tend to consider myself very liberal on social issues and a supporter of women’s rights, I also believe in finding a fair, rational, and balanced view of things. I’m also a strong supporter of sexual freedom so long as one’s sexual expression is consensual and everyone involved is of legal age. Where my views tend to differ from a number of feminists (but not all feminists) is that I don’t believe sexuality and expressions of sexuality are inherently negative or to be repressed or closeted. I don’t believe that appreciation of naked bodies is necessarily objectification. And I also believe that it’s okay for men and women to have separate groups and events (as well as coed groups and events) so long as these groups aren’t about bashing the other gender and so long as we live in a free and pluralistic society.
On the positive side of the #MeToo movement, a number of really sleazy and predatory men (and possibly even a few women) have been called out for some pretty heinous things like rape, sexual assault, predatory behavior, and using positions of power to force women (and some men) into having sex with them. On the negative side, there has been the public shaming of men for minor (and sometimes unintended infractions) and for just being having an interest in sex and beautiful women (and again in some cases – men). I’ve seen a number of denials that #MeToo is about shaming men for such minor transgressions and declarations that it’s only about going after the big and monstrous cases. But for every denial, there’s also a news story shaming a male celebrity or public figure for something like putting his hand on a coworkers leg during an television interview, being a little touchy feely, being overly insistent about going on a date or sex, or not picking up on signals that a woman (or man) isn’t interested in more. And, of course, what happens when you have someone who generally supports women’s issues, but then gets called out for something that wasn’t rape or assault, but still involves following their sexual impulses? Is it unfathomable to believe that a man can support women’s rights and still be interested in sex, not to mention fallibly human?
The good thing about the #MeToo movement is that it’s opening up dialogues between men and women about what’s appropriate behavior, except I’m not sure it really is. Any disagreement with aspects of the #MeToo movement is seen (and shamed) as defending sexism and sexual assault, preserving a sexist patriarchal system, or as being on the same level as our conservative and not so enlightened social and political adversaries.
I’m not so quick to turn every man accused of something into a monster, nor am I quick to discount the stories and experiences of women as nothing more than overreaction and hysterics. At the same time, some of these men are monsters, and some women are jumping on board #MeToo over seemingly trivial offenses. Reality often falls somewhere between the extremes.
One of the criticisms I have of #MeToo is that it comes across as a mob mentality. The politically incorrect comedian, Bill Maher, even dubbed it #MeCarthyism. We live in a country where people are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, but #MeToo shames alleged perpetrators, even destroying their reputations and careers, based on accusations and hearsay. Admittedly in some cases, patterns of abuse come out, but in others only a few accusations stand. There’s also the point brought out in my recent “Trouble with Normal” post that there are differing attitudes about sexual morality and even rival moralities. Not all views of sexuality involve puritanical and heterocentric ideas involving monogamy, family units, or the idea that sexual expression in and of itself is negative. While we might all agree that rape and assault are bad (not to mention illegal), we might not all agree that patting someone on the leg, appreciating someone’s beauty, being a little persistent, or being attracted to someone in a different age group (so long as they are past the legal age of consent) is necessarily predatory behavior.
As a gay man (and as someone who hangs out with poly folks and fetish people), I’m very sensitive to the public shaming of people for their sexual inclinations. There was a time when LGBT folks were shamed. Many poly and fetish folks still worry about being shamed. Such shaming was part of mid-20th century McCarthyism that sought to root out not just communists, but homosexuals and sexual “deviants.” This included crusades against a number of Hollywood celebrities at the time. Often an accusation, regardless of hard evidence, was enough to cost someone their reputation and career. Back in the day, LGBT folks were also shamed in lists in the newspapers as criminals and sexual deviants after police raids of gay establishments. Many lost their jobs, families, and reputations. Compare this to some #MeToo lists of alleged predators that have sprung up on the internet. As a Pagan, I’m also aware that many folks had their reputations and lives destroyed during the Witch Trials, often based on flimsy or unsubstantiated accusations. Often these rumors included accusations of sexual deviance. Some of these folks even paid the price with their lives.
One of the big questions I have about #MeToo is: Are we really that surprised that men like sex and will go to great lengths to get it? Or that men like looking at naked women (and sometimes men)? Likewise, are we really surprised that women have different expectations about sexuality than men? Back in the 90’s there was that book claiming “Men are from Mars, and Women are from Venus.” And of course, there are differences in expectations and socialization for men and women. Men have been traditionally socialized to be the initiators in dating and sexual relations; while women have traditionally been socialized to be on the receiving end of date requests and so forth. Men have traditionally been given greater freedom and encouragement to have more sex and more partners, while women have traditionally been expected to save their virginity for the one special man they marry. Of course, women with multiple sex partners are shamed as “sluts”, while men who have multiple partners before marriage are seen as “virile” and to have a positive sexual prowess. Popular culture – including television, movies, and music – often even reflects these expectations. How many romantic comedies show the unlikely, but persistent, guy winning over his reluctant female love interest? How many songs talk about winning someone’s love? How many romance novels (even those written by women) portray women swooning over the strong, masculine, aggressive, virile, and possibly even dangerous male?
What is at issue too is that men and women have never really learned to communicate with each other, especially over issues of sexuality. Some have, and they probably have great relationships, but many others have not. There are a great many men out there who have no clue when it comes to communicating with or attracting women. There are a great number of women out there who never learned to set boundaries or to assertively say “no” when needed. Then, of course, there are even more folks who never learned to read body language and subtle signals. If they had, perhaps there would be fewer women who find themselves in compromising situations and more men who could pick up that a woman just isn’t interested.
I’ve often thought that maybe there should be a class in high school where folks learn appropriate behavior for dating and interacting. I remember getting the sex education part describing all the biology and mechanics, but don’t remember learning the ins and outs of dating behavior. Maybe some folks had these kinds of classes. Some folks might argue that teenagers get this through extracurricular activities like dances and formals, or just learning to date each other. Perhaps early dating is an indicator of being better able to date and interact as adults, but not everyone gets this experience. As a gay person, I really didn’t have the opportunity to start dating until college and by then dating was even more complex. I was also the nerdy and socially awkward bookworm in high school, so even if I’d been straight, that’s not a guarantee I would have been dating.
That brings me to another point in this conversation about the #MeToo movement and sexuality. Sexism has largely come to the forefront in this movement, but what about other –isms related to sexuality. Some have argued that things like ageism and lookism have come into play in the accusations. I’m not sure there’s a word for it, but there’s also a prejudice against the nerdy, geeky, and socially and sexually awkward. While things like sexual assault and predatory behavior might be more cut and dry, there’s also this idea of “unwanted advances.” Aside from the fact that one cannot truly know if an advance is unwanted until one makes it and the other party clearly indicates they aren’t interested, “unwanted advances” can also indicate general undesirability on the part of the person making the advance. One can be undesirable if he is too old, not fit enough, differently abled, another race, socially or sexually awkward, or any other number of other subtle and not so subtle factors. I’m not at all indicating that someone should accept the advances of someone they are not attracted to or interested in, only that certain portions of the population are more likely than others to receive harsh contempt for simply making an advance or being assertive about dating or sex in the first place.
Too be continued…
While The Trouble with Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life written by Michael Warner was first published in 1999, I believe many of its core messages are still valid today. They are valid not only for LGBTQ people, but also anyone with non-mainstream ideas about sexuality or who otherwise doesn’t fit what is considered “normal” by society.
Warner starts with the premise that people like to control the sex lives of others and for many this is where their sense of morality begins. But Warner argues that controlling the sex lives of others is not only unethical, but that this attitude is actually moralism rather than any kind of ethics or true morality. Our culture governs sex, not just harmful sex like rape, but all sex by legally regulating what is and isn’t acceptable, prohibiting some forms of victimless sexuality and by restricting access to and information about sexuality. Society also claims one set of sexual values and practices as normal while vilifying all others. Those who fall outside the sexual norms might be humiliated, beaten, jailed, or stigmatized as deviants and criminals. Warner argues that what many would take for granted as immoral, criminal, or pathological might just be harmless difference and a rival morality. And society’s repression of sexuality may be the basis of pathology rather than sexuality itself.
Attitudes about sexuality have been tainted by the early Christian church’s fear and repulsion of the flesh and the belief that sex is only about procreation. As such, society dictates that certain things aren’t permissible and should be controlled including: homosexuality, sex outside the Holy institution of marriage, promiscuity, masturbation, group sex, casual sex, sex with someone outside your age group, public sex, pornography, BDSM sex, and virtually any other sex that doesn’t include the possibility of insemination. Traditionally, this even included birth control, and if you’re Catholic it still does.
All of these things are vilified and shamed by our society. LGBTQ people are particularly vulnerable to this shaming because we grow up in heterosexual families and with heterosexual peers who all assume we’re heterosexual. Our schools and religions assume the same and indoctrinate us to grow up to be normal, responsible heterosexual citizens. To those who grow up realizing they’re gay, this leads to a sense of estrangement and secrecy that further perpetuates those feelings of shame. Is it any wonder that many gay adults and even the gay movement itself seek validation and acceptance from the mainstream rather than sexual autonomy and difference? To embrace our difference and our sexuality would be to invite shame and our own feelings of inadequacy – of not being “normal.”
This creates ambivalence for many gay people. They want to feel normal and connected to the heterosexual world that includes their parents and family, but they’re also part of the gay world and the stigma associated with it. They may feel that their own feelings and actions are honorable, and so must blame this stigma on others in their group especially those that are further from straight norms and those who act in stereotyped ways. They may also feel a need to repudiate sex and to desexualize themselves, others, and the gay movement as a whole. This ambivalence plays out in the gay community with assimilationists seeking respectability and normalcy on the one end; and sex radicals embracing their sexual differences on the other end. Those seeking respectability are the most likely to be harboring sexual shame.
The trouble with normal according to Warner is many-fold but boils down to this. By trying to be “normal” we are only feeding into larger society’s stigma toward sex and sexuality and that when we take this attitude on as a movement the result is to reproduce a hierarchy of shame within our own community. Embracing normal throws shame on those further down the ladder or respectability including those who are effeminate or otherwise don’t act “straight,” those not in monogamous relationships whether bachelors or polyamorists, those into BDSM, sex workers, drag queens, those who actually admit to liking pornography, and so on. We do a disservice to ourselves and to society when we try too hard to win acceptance and respectability rather than challenging the faulty assumptions and ethics of the dominant culture. For gay people to disavow sex and sexuality in an effort to fight stigma is to reject the very thing that defines us.
Warner also points out that what we think of as normal is really what is statistically normal. People didn’t start worrying about normal until polling and statistics came into popularity. Being normal is not really a good reflection of desirability. It’s normal to have health problems and to be in debt. It’s not normal to be a genius or to be well endowed. People have come to see normal as meaning to be certified or approved, but in essence to be normal is to be common with nothing too special about you.
Warner spends an entire chapter with a compelling critique of gay marriage. This was long before same-sex marriage became legal in the U.S. Warner argued that while many believed same-sex marriage would somehow erase all the hate and intolerance existing in society toward LGBT people, it doesn’t address the real root of the problem which is society’s stigma and intolerance of sexual variation.
Opponents of gay marriage want their marriages to be holy at the expense of someone else. But that’s really the problem with the institution of marriage as a whole, and that doesn’t change much with the legalization of same-sex marriage. Marriage sanctifies and gives legitimacy to some relationships at the expense of others. It commends and privileges those who are married. It makes them special. If you don’t have it you and your relations are less than worthy. It’s kind of like being a single person on Valentine’s Day. Marriage confers a number of social and governmental benefits and privileges to married couples that are denied to single people, people in non-traditional relationships, and other types of cohabitating households. Warner argues that applying strict definitions of marriage onto same-sex relationships provides less freedom to LGBTQ people, not more.
Marriage might not be the right choice for gay people for other reasons as well. Historically marriage has been designed to define lineage and to perpetuate families by having and raising children, not to mention to indoctrinate and carry on a family’s religious beliefs – that’s why mixed religion marriages have traditionally be frowned upon and are still an issue in some families even today. As many feminists would point out, marriage has also historically been a way of dominating and trafficking women. A carry over from this can still be seen today when a bride’s father gives her away to the groom. Marriage allows the state to regulate and enforce the dictates and rules of marriage, as well as regulating and enforcing restrictions on sex in other contexts outside of marriage. Marriage gives power over to the state and third parties to legitimize and affirm the status of a relationship rather than letting that come from within the relationship itself.
Instead of gay marriage, Warner offers other solutions. These include extending the special legal privileges currently defined narrowly within marriage into wider contexts including domestic partnerships, common law marriages, and alternative forms of families. Rather than trying to force the plethora of gay relationships and even many straight relationships into the mold of marriage, it might be better to take the forms of relationships already existing and extend benefits and rights to those making them available and accessible to gay and straight people alike. Rather than trying to make gay relationships more straight, perhaps we should be trying to allow straight relationships to be more queer.
I’ve been a long-time fan of Doctor Who since long before it was cool. I started watching the adventures of the 4th Doctor back when I was 9 or 10 years old in the late 1970s. I followed him through his 5th, 6th, and 7th incarnations and also at some point caught up on Doctors 1 through 3. When the show went off the air, I followed the Doctor’s adventures through books and audio adventures. I watched the 8th Doctor’s television movie in 1996, and have followed every episode of the show since it’s revival in 2005. Doctor Who and one other show, Knight Rider, were defining and pivotal shows of my youth that have forever had an impact on my life and values. Doctor Who fights injustice wherever he goes. He doesn’t use guns, but uses knowledge, intellect, and technology instead. Knight Rider was similar in its own way – fighting injustice with intellect and technology rather than guns.
When I saw Sunday’s announcement that the upcoming Doctor will be a woman, I’ll just be honest and say I have mixed feelings. I’m not in the camp that the Doctor shouldn’t be a woman at all, but I’m also not in the camp that the Doctor should be female solely in the interests of diversity and representation either. I fall somewhere in the middle. I don’t feel that everyone against a female doctor is a misogynist bro-flake. In fact, some of my female friends also have mixed feelings about the Doctor being a woman. I don’t think everyone who wants a female Doctor is a left-wing, radical, hippie extremist either. I think some women want a Doctor who can be their own role model. As a male, I’ve experienced what it’s like for the Doctor to be like “me,” and I know many women want to have the same experience. The same could be said for folks of other ethnicities and backgrounds looking for regenerational representation.
The reasons for my mixed feelings are complex. Doctor Who has always been male and essentially British. In the classic series, the Timelords were portrayed as stuffy, traditional, and sexless, so the idea of them changing gender seems a bit of a stretch to me. It’s only been since Missy showed up a few seasons ago that we even got the idea that Timelords could regenerate into the other sex. I was actually rooting for her to be the Rani, a strong female villain Timelady who showed up a few times in the classic series. The Rani was a good character on her own, so why not take her character and run with it instead of taking a classically male character and turning him into her. In my own opinion, Missy would have worked much better as the Rani – everything from the life-after-death experiments from Season 8 to the fact that her character was more amoral than outright evil. The Doctor himself while being of the male gender, has mostly been portrayed as sexless, being above relationships and sexuality – whether by choice, temperament, or necessity. Sure there was once that fling with that Aztec woman in his first incarnation, the 8th Doctor’s kiss with Grace in the television movie, and many of the new companions such as Rose, Martha, and Amy have had crushes on the Doctor, but time and time again he’s deflected focus away from his own sexuality. There was also that dance between the 9th Doctor and Captain Jack. In the series, I’ve enjoyed a number of strong female companions – Romana (a Timelady of equal stature to the Doctor), Ace, Donna, Amy, Riversong, and others.
So why exactly do so many people want the Doctor to be female? I think essentially it comes down to the Doctor being like “me.” That’s also the reason so many folks want a female Doctor. Many of the female fans want a Doctor they can relate to and can internalize as a part of themselves (not to mention cosplay). The same applies to fans of color or other demographics. The Doctor’s regeneration has always been about change and about bringing in someone different (sometimes radically different) than the one before. We balance out old with young, reserved with brash, serious with fun, humble with self-important, and so on and so forth. In that tradition, it’s really not that big a stretch to replace male with female.
As much as I loved David Tennant and Matt Smith in the role, I’m actually glad they didn’t bring in yet another Tennant-Smith clone. Those two Doctors were more alike than different, especially in the way they looked. That said, David Tennant, Matt Smith, and even Christopher Eccleston drew in a larger female audience to the show, and many of those young women weren’t interested in being the Doctor per se. They wanted to date him. I won’t lie. As a gay man, I did my own swooning even though I never thought of the Doctor sexually or romantically in the classic series – Peter Davison maybe, but not so much the other Doctors. As a man, the Doctor could be me. As a gay man, the Doctor could also be that mysterious, handsome, heroic, and unavailable stranger I could crush on. The same reasons attracted many young straight women who joined the fandom, but they couldn’t claim a male Doctor was like them. Therein lies the problem.
When I saw the announcement for a female Doctor, my biggest fear is that I won’t be able to relate to her and also that many of the show’s straight male fans may have a harder time relating than I do. If male viewers start turning off the show, will there be enough viewers to keep it going. Also, will the many straight female viewers who called for a woman Doctor be disappointed that the Doctor is no longer crush worthy? I know I will be, but the Doctor remaining male doesn’t guarantee this. Look at the falling demographics under Peter Capaldi. He wasn’t as sexy as his recent predecessors. Many of the women who liked Tennant and Smith and the borderline romantic relationships they had with their female companions tuned out under an older Doctor. With a female Doctor, I hope we’ll at least have some cute male companions or go back to a larger TARDIS team that is both male and female.
The biggest problem to me isn’t whether the Doctor is male or female. It’s why there’s such a call for him to be female, a person of color, etc. For me on some level it just bothers me to start changing demographics on an iconic character. It bothered me in the 2008 Knight Rider remake when they allowed KITT to transform into a truck. I wasn’t bothered that the new KITT was a Ford Mustang and not a Pontiac Trans Am. With a car, it really isn’t about race or gender, though I do have to point out that KITT has always been black. Changing types of car was fine for me, but there was something about KITT being able to change into an F-150 pickup that just felt wrong somehow. I have the same feelings about making Doctor Who a woman, or when they made Starbuck a woman in the new Battlestar Galactica. To me, it was about taking an iconic character that I’d grown up with and making them into something they weren’t originally. At the same time, I was pleasantly surprised by the all-female Ghostbusters remake, and I was able to totally crush on Chris Hemsworth’s “Kevin” character in a way I really didn’t feel about anyone in the original Ghostbusters cast.
As I was saying, the problem isn’t the gender or color of the Doctor, but why there are so few iconic and successful shows featuring female characters (or characters of color). We had Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the Charmed Sisters, Xena, Wonder Woman, Captain Janeway, and Agent Carter, but I really haven’t been able to think of that many sci-fi and fantasy shows that were carried by a central female character. The numbers are less when you start looking at spacefaring and time traveling heroines. Of course, the gender of these strong female characters was an important part of their charm. Buffy wouldn’t have been as strong or complex a character if she’d been male, Xena would have been just another sword and sandal warrior, the Halliwell sisters might not have cut it as brothers, and Wonder Woman wouldn’t be the same if she was a transgender male.
Instead of rewriting classic characters as someone of a different gender or color, why don’t we have more original female and ethnic characters leading their own shows? I thought Star Trek did this wonderfully with Star Trek Voyager. They didn’t remake Captain Kirk as a woman. They created a new show in the Star Trek universe with a strong, original female lead. I loved Voyager and Captain Janeway brought something to the franchise that wouldn’t be there if they’d simply recast Kirk as a woman. Deep Space Nine brought in a strong African American lead in the form of Commander Sisko. These characters added to the Star Trek universe and the unfolding Star Trek story in a way that recasting the original characters never could have done. The same could be done in the Whoniverse. I’d love to see the adventures of Romana in her own TARDIS, or what about Riversong, Clara and Me in their stolen TARDIS, or some of the other new series companions, or even classic series companions. I loved the Sarah Jane Adventures. Could something similar, but unique in its own right, be done with other female companions?
Regardless of the gender, race, age, or other characteristics of the Doctor, I will continue to watch the show and give each new actor / actress the chance to win me over. I’m looking forward to seeing what the new Doctor and the new producer bring to Doctor Who. Hopefully it will be something good.
I consider myself fairly left of center when it comes to social issues. I believe in LGBTQ rights and sexual freedom. I believe that people of color face systematic oppression and that should be fixed. I believe women deserve equal pay and equal opportunities to men. I don’t believe it’s my choice, the government’s, or anyone else’s whether a woman has an abortion. I also believe that teaching sex education in the schools would prevent not just abortions, but the spread of STD’s. I believe folks’ religious beliefs should be respected regardless of religion (so long as those beliefs aren’t predatory or used to put down or oppress others). I believe marijuana is no more harmful to society than alcohol and should be legalized. I believe that most porn is okay and that sex work and sex workers should be given legitimacy so long as we’re talking consensual adults. I believe in “reasonable” gun control measures. I also believe that the working class should be given a break and that the super-rich should be taxed more. I believe that small local businesses should be held to different standards than large national and international corporations.
I don’t relate to the idea of a liberal bubble as has been put out recently in the media, but I believe there are some at the extreme left who are out of touch with reality. I believe the same about folks on the extreme right. There are liberal bubbles, conservative bubbles, urban bubbles, rural bubbles, religious bubbles, and so on and so forth. I think most of us surround ourselves with people of similar beliefs and interests. I also think that it’s human nature for us all to tend to watch news that supports our own biases and to balk at news that challenges our beliefs about the world. The problem with bubbles is that we lose touch with the needs of those who aren’t like us, if we even understood them to begin with. The rural dweller who has never experienced being the victim of a hate crime is clueless about why there’s so much animosity against the rebel flag, just as an urban socialite is clueless about the deep rooted affiliation a rural Southerner has toward the same flag. Many against the transgender bathroom issue are truly afraid of sharing the same bathroom, but what they don’t realize is that transgender folks are afraid too. What we need to be doing is looking for solutions that are fair to all and that break down the fears and biases we have against each other.
President Obama recently remarked on the concept of “political correctness.” (http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/obama-suspect-trumps-definition-political-correctness-mine/story?id=44274981). This article underscores the deep division about what political correctness means. Like Obama, I’ve always believed political correctness was about calling people what they want to be called, avoiding calling people derogatory names, showing courtesy and good manners to others, and being thoughtful that not everyone has the same background or beliefs as I do. I grew up in the rural South and to me this doesn’t seem a far stretch from the concept of good old-fashioned Southern manners. There’s this idea that you may not like the person you are talking to, but you treat them with courtesy and respect (at least publically). Of course, for conservatives, “political correctness” is a code word for hypersensitivity and a feeling of victimization among minority groups. It doesn’t matter that minority groups are systematically oppressed in our culture, and maybe they have legitimate reason to be sensitive about being treated badly or being called certain names. Somehow they should be quiet about it and not get upset when it happens. Ironically, many on the right are also hypersensitive and cry discrimination and victimhood whenever someone challenges their beliefs. Religious fundamentalists are especially prone to crying “persecution” such as when they are expected to bake wedding cakes for same-sex couples.
According to Dictionary.com “Identity Politics” is “political activity or movements based on or catering to the cultural, gender, racial, religious, or social interests that characterize a group identity.” Conservatives seem to see this as only applying to liberals who rally around minority identities such as race, gender, sexual orientation, and so forth, but the truth is most politics are based in large part on the beliefs one has based in their identity. The coal miner’s identity is based (at least to some extent) on their job and the values and norms of others with the same job. Rural Southerners have a group identity built on guns and the Rebel flag (among other things). Christians see Christianity not just as a set of beliefs, but part of their identities. The list goes on. For most LGBTQ people, our identities necessitate rallying against anti-gay policies and laws. People of color fight against racism. Many women fight for gender equality, because… guess what… it affects them. Many people have multiple identities and roles, so that’s why sometimes you see a gay Republican or a liberal Redneck (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTHsQd-vRXK1bp4vpifl6yA) .
Conservatives can be quick to label and shame, but so can we. I’ve been reading a lot of liberal media sites (especially since the election). While I’m in agreement with most of what is put forth on these sites, I have seen a disturbing tendency from some corners to quickly label folks as racist, misogynistic, or homophobic for holding differences of opinion and in some cases for being the wrong identity. I’ve seen white Liberal allies labeled as racist with little or any real justification. I’ve seen gay men and masculinity in general labeled as misogynistic and anti-woman for wanting to spend time among other men. Sure sometimes opinions and actions are built on hateful beliefs and unjustified biases. Other times you have people trying to live their lives, find the middle ground, or who mean well but just don’t have a full grasp of the issues. When we call out bigots for their racism, sexism, and homophobia, it’s often well justified. When we start throwing around these terms all willy-nilly at ourselves and our allies who have a subtle difference of opinion, we might be turning off well-meaning people from our cause. This also has an effect like crying “wolf.” If every minor thing triggers our name calling, it has less substance and impact when something major comes up that needs addressing.
Part of our challenge – especially in this new era of Trump – is to help folks understand (and agree with) our ideologies and not just our politics. We also need to be looking at the middle ground and not the extremes. Political correctness and Southern manners may be very similar in many ways, but getting folks past political rhetoric, ideology, and even simple misconceptions takes work and a real desire to find solutions that work for all and not just the extremes. Most people who are against political correctness don’t really want to go out calling Black people the “N-word” or gay people the “F-word”. Some do, but others have bought into the idea pushed by conservatives (and sometimes validated by liberals) that the “political correctness police” are out to punish them if they say the wrong thing, even a minor thing. They feel they have to walk on eggshells or fear being shamed. Many are afraid that if they call a Native American an “Indian” or an African-American “Black” they might be judged harshly even if they didn’t mean any harm. I will point out that many conservative Christians also get sensitive when you start talking about religion and they have their own brand of “political correctness” about what can and can’t be said about Christianity or their identities as Christians. The bottom line is that we need to be looking for shared values of civility and respect beyond our politics. If we do this, we might make greater progress than trying to push the politics themselves.
When seeking solutions we need to look for solutions that respect the rights of all, but also their fears, and also the cross-section of where everyone’s differing identities and ideologies meet. The Confederate flag is part of the identities of many Southern Americans who feel it represents their heritage. At the same time it is used as a symbol of many racists to promote their hateful cause. There’s probably no easy solution to this one, but perhaps there’s some kind of middle ground on this issue.
Transgender folks, like everyone else, need to use the restroom. They want to use the bathroom that conforms to their gender identity. They also risk being assaulted for using the “wrong” bathroom. Many straight folks truly fear sharing the bathroom with trans folks and also fear that bathroom laws will open the way for predatory behavior, not necessarily from trans folks, but from unscrupulous people using bathroom policies as a loophole. I honestly think the best solution (at least short term) is for public facilities to have individual bathrooms for folks with special needs. Many places already have individual bathrooms for disabled people; a number have “family” bathrooms which are basically unisex bathrooms anyway; so why not just extend their use to one more community.
Another issue that is often thrown about is why can minority groups celebrate their heritage or have special interest groups, but if someone from a majority group does so it’s shamed. A prime example often given is that folks can celebrate Black heritage or Gay pride, but not White heritage or Straight pride. While I think there is often more of a need among minority groups to celebrate their uniqueness in an often oppressive world, I don’t see why anyone should not be able to celebrate who they are as long as they are doing it in the spirit of history and heritage and not in the spirit of hate. Often the “White heritage” and “Straight pride” groups form from a spirit of hate and mocking rather than to share a positive history or identity to the world. Truth be told, there are a number of groups out there that do celebrate a mostly white or European heritage that don’t get shamed at all (at least not for celebrating their heritage). Examples include Irish Americans celebrating their Irish heritage; Italian Americans celebrating all things Italia; and there’s an annual Greek festival in my area that highlights Greek food, music, and dancing. These folks celebrate their unique foods and culture, not hating folks who aren’t white or who aren’t of their nationality.
It doesn’t always have to be all or nothing, sometimes the best solution is a compromise. Later on when folks are comfortable with the compromise, additional adjustments can be made if desired or necessary.
One last thing I’d like to talk about before wrapping up is how conservatives often take our language or make up code words and twist the meaning against us. I’ve already talked about how political correctness can be seen as either civility or oversensitivity. I’ve also talked about how most everyone’s politics are based around their identities. Conservatives have made these code words that they’ve twisted and injected with negativity. I’d like to suggest in this age of Trump that we start calling out their identity politics and their own versions of political correctness. We also shouldn’t fear not being “politically correct” when we call out racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia and the like in the Trump era. Just make sure it’s justified and make sure it counts!
I woke up to the news of the 2016 Presidential Election results this morning with horror. I was not the only one. Many other LGBT folks, women, people of color, immigrants, Muslims, and other minorities have reacted with the same horror and a very real fear of what a Trump presidency might bring about. Already bastions of hate and intolerance, including the KKK, the Alt Right movement, and other groups, have come out of the woodwork feeling validated by Trump’s rhetoric during his campaign and his unexpected election to President.
I rewind the clock to just under a year and a half ago when same-sex marriage was legalized in the U.S. by the Supreme Court decision on June 26, 2015. As LGBTQ people we felt we had finally arrived. Many LGBTQ advocacy organizations shut down claiming their work was done. The average, mainstream gay or lesbian person became more interested in wedding planning than in activism. Those already privileged in other areas of their life, ghosted themselves from coalitions and organizations of people fighting for other causes – women’s rights, the rights of people of color, trans rights, sex worker rights, religious tolerance, helping the poor, LGBTQ youth, homelessness, and many others. Once we received some semblance of rights, many of us didn’t care to continue fighting for the rights of others. Those issues were someone else’s problem not ours.
Up until a today, the biggest LGBTQ concern on most LGBTQ people’s minds was the Trans bathroom issue. Little did we concern ourselves that the achievements we’ve made in the past decade could possibly come tumbling down. Progress only moves forward, right? We have marriage equality, gays in the military, record numbers of LGBTQ characters on television, and droves of LGBTQ celebrities and even sports figures coming out of the closet or in support of LGBTQ folks.
The mass shooting at the Pulse Orlando nightclub last June was a shock and a wakeup call suggesting that prejudice still exists against LGBTQ folks, against people of color, and against Muslims, but did we really heed the call? Sure there were vigils and speeches and the forming of LGBTQ gun control groups, but a month or two later after the hubbub and after all the summer Pride festivals died down, how much have we really done to address the underlying issues that caused such a tragedy to happen in our country in the first place? How many of us have gotten involved in any kind of actual cause as a result of the tragedy?
LGBTQ folks are not the only ones who became complacent under the eight years of Obama’s presidency. Many believed with an African-American serving as President, that racism was a thing of the past. While we’ve never adopted the Equal Rights Amendment for women, many folks believed women’s rights were also secure.
With Trump’s election and his pending presidency, we live in fear. Will he reverse same-sex marriage? Will he close down Planned Parenthood? Will he deport immigrants and Muslims, and close the borders? Will he give huge tax breaks to the rich, while the poor get poorer? Do we really want someone that unstable to have control of military forces and of nuclear weapons? Will he continue to incite the anger, hate, and divisiveness we saw in his campaign?
What about all the people who voted for him? Does approximately half of the country really hate and look down on LGBT folks, people of color, women, immigrants, Muslims, and anyone else defined as other? Were they just reacting to calls for sensible gun control and political correctness? Were they feeling frustrated and left out in a time when a number of minority groups celebrated increased visibility and increased rights? Could we really miss the subtle racism, sexism, xenophobia, and homophobia brewing just below the surface of American society?
While I’m not looking forward to a Trump presidency, I hope we as a people can learn from the circumstances we’re faced with. Perhaps we will feel compelled to get involved, not just to secure our own rights, but to look out for others. Maybe we will learn to work together among our different disenfranchised or potentially disenfranchised demographic groups. Perhaps we’ll learn that an injustice to one group is an injustice for all. Perhaps the younger generations who grew up feeling they were totally accepted by society, will learn what the older generations already knew about prejudice and intolerance. Perhaps somehow they will become better people for it. Perhaps all those who voted for Trump will realize their mistake, when the people they love – their friends, their neighbors, their co-workers, and their family members, start being affected by his policies.
It is a dark day, and we do not entirely know what a Trump presidency will bring us. Until then, we must be vigilant. We must stand together and we must not go quietly into the night!
November 9, 2016 | Categories: Social Musings | Tags: Activism, Election, Hate, Intolerance, LGBTQ rights, Marriage Equality, Orlando, Pulse Nightclub, Racism, Trump, Women's Rights, Xenophobia | Leave a comment