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Disillusionment

I’ve been getting fed up with university this semester. I’ve really gotten to the point where I don’t want to be there at all, and so I’m having huge trouble motivating myself to do anything uni-related when I’ve always got something more interesting to do.

I’ve taken some frustrating courses in my time, but this semester has more or less been the final straw.

First up, I have the sociology course from hell. I’ve blogged about this course before, but it’s only getting worse as the semester went on. Tonight, I had a compulsory tutorial in which the first half was spent talking about racist stereotypes - not, as one might think, to tear them apart, but in the lecturer’s words, to establish “general themes”. Apparently Muslim men are all domineering and evil and the rest of the world thinks white women are all sluts, blah blah blah vomit. The second portion of the tutorial appeared to have no purpose apart from allowing the tutor to go on a screaming half-hour rant about sex trafficking. It’s impossible to speak up in that course, even when she’s spouting racist trash, because one would cop a mouthful of abuse and then in all probability be marked down for the rest of the course.

Secondly, we have the world’s worst feminist theory course. I was way excited about this one at the start of the semester. Unfortunately, the list of theorists, for the most part, sucks. The first third was spent studying Judith Butler, who I can’t stand and who isn’t even a feminist. It’s another course where the bias was pretty clear: getting marked down for being too superficial (what in blazes is one supposed to do when one is critiquing a book-length theoretical work in a 1,500 word essay?) in a way that certainly wouldn’t have happened if I’d been pro-Butler, an author the lecturer adores. Many of the comments on my returned essay came down to “well, I like Butler, so you’re wrong.” The second part of the course was on postcolonial feminism, and Chandra Mohanty is excellent, but the assessment on that basically amounts to an exercise in English comprehension. The third part is on Janet Halley, who I find incredibly frustrating. She’s a left-field feminist critic, and her entire work is based around the assumption that feminism is really a discourse of sexuality, which is a pretty stupid assumption in my opinion. Moreover, she’s very prone to making dichotomies that don’t make any sense and leave out practically every single feminist of my generation, or dismiss them to her chapter ironically labelled something along the lines of “others”. My attitude to Halley can be summed up in this way: if your definition of mainstream feminism doesn’t include Jessica Valenti, there’s something wrong with your definition. It irritates the hell out of me that it’s voices like Halley who get the book deals and the time in academia when there’s so many brilliant minds struggling out on the margins.

And the last course is perhaps the world’s most boring course on the history of sexuality. I just don’t get how anyone could manage to make such an interesting topic into such a boring university course. There’s really not even more to say on that; it’s just an incredibly dull course.

So I’m at a point where I’m really struggling to stay motivated at all, and I’m incredibly thankful that I’m only another semester away from finishing the arts side of my degree. It makes me kinda angry too, when I read about the great experiences of so many others I read have had in academia, that I’m being left in a position where I’m not even learning anything, and just waiting for the damned thing to end.

“Uh oh” is right…

via The Bilerico Project:

The American Psychiatric Association has named the members of it’s working group to reassess the inclusion of Gender Identity Disorder in the forthcoming new edition of the DSM, the DSM-V. It could almost not possibly be worse. The list reads like a who’s-who of obsessed creeps who’ve made a career out of attacking trans healthcare.

Let’s start with the chair of the working group. It’s Kenneth Zucker, of Toronto’s notorious Clarke Institute. As Mercedes Allen notes over there, he’s notorious for his use of “ex-gay” style “reparative therapy” to try and beat the transness out of trans kids. This is a man who shouldn’t even be allowed to practice medicine, let alone be put in this sort of position of responsibility.

It doesn’t improve from there. The next one on the list is none other than Ray Blanchard, the creator of the theory of “autogynephilia”. This is a theory that has zero credibility outside of right-wing circles, is patently unscientific, and relies on ignoring the entire existence of transmen to even pretend for it to make sense. How in the hell was this man let anywhere near this working group?

There’s one clinician on the list who’s actually well-known for dealing with trans issues in a realistic context: Peggy Cohen-Kettenis. It isn’t a bad choice; she’s prominent and supports proper healthcare, but I’ve read some kinda odd work of hers that did take on board a bit of Blanchard’s work - perhaps the only respected psychiatrist to do so. It could certainly be worse, but I ain’t thrilled about it either.

There’s only one other person on the list who seems to have any knowledge about transpeople at all, and that’s an endocrinological specialist, Heino F. L. Meyer-Bahlburg. Unfortunately, he looks pretty terrible too: according to Robbie: “Meyer-Bahlburg seems pretty ambivalent about whether trans people should be treated at all, especially trans youth, and thinks that Money’s notorious ideas about intersex treatment need “only minor modifications”".

Of the rest (according to Zoe Brain in comments), we have a guy who specialises in violent male sex offenders, a guy who specialises in female orgasmic disorders, a guy who specialises in sexual dysfunction, a sex therapist, and another specialist in sex offenders. None of these last five have any relevant experience in dealing with actual gender issues.

This is nothing short of a nightmare. Think of it this way: what if you were queer, and the decision over your future legal status just got handed to Peter LaBerbera?

I just don’t even know what to say. It’s obvious that WPATH weren’t even consulted in choosing the makeup of this working group. I’m hoping to god that Cohen-Kettenis and some of the randoms can inject some sense into the process, or otherwise that the results of the working group get tossed out at a later stage, but this is just inconceivable. These people have the power to abolish trans healthcare as we know it.

Update: Mercedes Allen suggests in comments over there that the resistance to this has already started, with people pointing out that having Zucker anywhere near this group makes a mockery of the APA’s past clear opposition to reparative therapy being used against the LGBT community, and starting to link up with some of the veterans of the fight to take homosexuality out of the DSM. It’s a start, but god I hope it works.

The morning after

It’s been a fairly sombre day after yesterday’s revelation that the Civil Partnerships Bill, or at least the most important elements of it, were dead in the water.

We’ve done what we could to get at least some comment out there; for my part, several comments from me are included in this morning’s Age, and I’ve spoken to both ABC and Prime News during the day; a colleague spoke to several other papers. We now start preparing for a snap action on Saturday to make community outrage absolutely bloody clear, but the battle for this bill at least seems over. It isn’t the end of the line for the campaign, though - as I’ve been telling the press today, it may now be five years instead of five weeks until we see civil unions in the territory, but we ain’t going anywhere.

We’ve learned a lot through this campaign. Starting from a base of practically nothing in February, we’ve been given a crash course in everything from handling the press through to dealing directly with politicians; the challenge now is to make sure that experience doesn’t go to waste. There are still LGBT issues here that need fighting in the short term; the Discrimination Act is badly written; the trans sex recognition laws are flawed, and there’s a near-complete lack of queer support services in the territory apart from those directly related to sexual health. In the long term, we have campaigns for civil unions and same-sex marriage to fight, and it’s about time we started using our proximity to Capital Hill to our advantage.

There’s one last thing I want to put out there about yesterday, though. It’s my personal position that the ACT government did do everything they could do to get this bill up, and while I wish they had ploughed ahead anyway so we could have given the federal government a kicking, I can understand why they wouldn’t in the face of practically certain defeat; hell, I told Simon Corbell personally during the week that I was concerned about couples who need legal rights now being screwed if we were left without relationship recognition laws for another year due to an override, even in light of the above.

Which is why I find the timing of yesterday’s announcement very curious. The ACT government has everything to gain from blowing this sky high, even in defeat; being the defender of territory rights and the party of progressive reform are popular themes here (Stanhope’s popularity went through the roof the last time we went through this in 2006, even though he lost then too), and they’re facing an election in five months where the main threat to their majority is coming from the Greens, not the Liberals.

Yet they chose to release the news that the bill had been withdrawn under pressure on a Sunday afternoon that also happened to be the day of the Logie Awards, and the day before the territory budget, with previews of the most important spending commitments leaked to the media. While Stanhope has been on the attack today (I haven’t had time to read the reports yet, but the reporter from the ABC told me that he’d had some rough things to say about Rudd), that’s a timing that smells very heavily of trying to bury the story. There was no clear reason why the announcement needed to be released yesterday in particular, yet they have nothing obvious to gain from burying it. I’m still prepared to publicly come out in support of Corbell and Stanhope’s actions right through until today, but the cynic in me might say that I smell a bit of a rat.

The end of the line

Two hours ago, ACT Attorney-General Simon Corbell caved to federal pressure, and announced that the Civil Partnerships Bill would be withdrawn. And so ends two years of hope that we might see, at least one day soon, civil unions in the Australian Capital Territory.

I’m crushed, although I’m not surprised, for the prospect of a federal override has been looming very large in recent weeks, and we were in the early stages of putting together a snap national campaign against it. It’s just a disgrace that when most of the West is moving towards gay marriage, and even the United States is moving towards civil unions, that we have a supposedly progressive federal government actively standing in the way here. I’m disappointed that even with a supportive territory government, we’ve been left with a substandard scheme that anoints our relationships as firmly second-class.

The ACT government deserves huge respect of taking us this far, but I have to say that I’m disappointed that Corbell chose to pull the bill in the end. Had it been passed, it would still have given us a few weeks to put the spotlight firmly on civil unions, and to run a national campaign on the issue. It would have ensured weeks of bad publicity for the federal government, would have seen the Greens inevitably force a Senate vote on the issue, and in the process, putting huge - and deserving - pressure on ACT Labor Senator Kate Lundy and lesbian Labor Senators Louise Pratt and Penny Wong. It also runs against the assurances we’d been given for months. Even if they’d ploughed on and forced the federal government into legislating for a registry scheme, it’d still have had the positive side-effect of giving the Northern Territory one too. Now that they’ve chosen to withdraw the bill, it’s effectively - and suddenly - over, and that’s heartbreaking.

So it hasn’t been a good afternoon. We hit the phones within minutes of the news breaking so at least we could get comment out there, and there’s going to be a snap action next Saturday to give the gay and lesbian community here one last chance to show outrage at the federal government. It’s still effectively all over though. Still, if there’s one thing that might come out of this; there’s been talk for a while of us morphing into a permanent LGBT rights organisation in the territory, and I think there’s enough energy left to make that happen.

And one last gripe?

…this is an outcome which has its merits, even if some of them are unintended, and even if some people in the ACT may not yet be ready to see them…

It may have been the homophobia of Kevin Rudd and Robert McClelland that finally doomed the bill, but it certainly didn’t help that Croome and Wayne Morgan, two self-appointed spokespeople for this community, decided to go on a media blitz last week encouraging the ACT government to pull the ceremonial component of its scheme. The pair of you are an absolute disgrace, and you are no allies of ours.

Labor senator Kate Lundy has also been told to stick to her principles after saying she would not back the ACT’s planned same-sex civil union laws in federal parliament. Senator Lundy says she will back any Rudd government decision to over-ride the territory’s legislative assembly.

“If it comes to the Senate, I am bound by my party position, so I am not able to do what (Liberal ACT senator) Gary Humphries did in crossing the floor [in 2006],” Senator Lundy told ABC Radio. - This morning’s The Australian

A few years ago, there was a time when I was active in university Labor circles. I met Senator Lundy a few times, and as a person, she’s brilliant, progressive, and I used to look up to her. As a legislator, though, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s a complete waste of space. I’ve dealt with her office on LGBT issues before, and she wouldn’t even give a public statement that wasn’t quoted word for word from federal Labor party policy. That she won’t even publicly oppose either an attack on the rights of her constituents, or even the independence of the flaming territory, is a new low, even for her, but it’s not a surprise. A computer could show up, give the requisite vote with the government, and spit out the pre-written press releases - and save taxpayers the significant salary she’s getting paid.

It’s a good article though - as Kevin Rudd makes exactly clear why he loves the registry option so espoused by Croome and Morgan so much:

Despite previously arguing it was a matter for the states, the Prime Minister said today that no other state was proposing laws similar to the ACT. Instead, Tasmania and Victoria have established relationship registers, which largely involve filling out a form, rather than a ceremony or the creation of a legally binding partnership.

Which is, y’know, what I’ve been saying all along.

It’s kind of ironic that the voice of sense in this situation comes from Liberal Senator Gary Humphries. I’ve met Humphries as well; he met with a group of us to discuss his position on LGBT issues prior to the last federal election, and his position amounted to “but the children! but the children!” to the point where I nearly wound up laughing at him because it was so nonsensical. Still, at least he had the guts to cross the floor in 2006 against his own government because of the territory rights argument - which is a hell of a lot more than can be said for his supposedly progressive Labor counterpart, Lundy.

Senator Humphries said it would be hypocritical if Senator Lundy did not cross the floor to vote against any government disallowance motion.

“Labor, having voted two years ago on the floor of the Senate to defend the right of the ACT government to pass this very same legislation, (is) now standing on the other side of the chamber saying: `Actually we don’t think you do have that right after all’,” Senator Humphries said.

He couldn’t be more spot on there. It’s hypocrisy of the worst degree from Labor.

Rodney Croome redux

I originally had a long post here responding to Rodney Croome’s attacks on me and his attempts at justifying his evangelism of relationship registries where they’re not wanted.

In light of some things that have come to light since, I’m not going to prolong this argument.

I’ll merely say this. Rodney Croome, you are a jerk, and a sexist one at that. If you’re so respectful of your new buzzword, “choice”, you might want to learn to respect this community’s support for civil unions, and do us the courtesy of backing the hell off. Do whatever you want in Tasmania - but keep your hands the hell off our scheme, and quit calling for our government to change it and playing into the federal government’s hands.

That’s all I’m saying on this. Comments closed.

A request

Okay, considering what I say about myself on this blog, I’m sure it’s pretty easy for people who know me in real life and stumble across this blog to put two and two together. I know that the address of this blog has been floating around local queer lists on a couple of occasions, so I’m not surprised that a few people I do know have found it. I know a few specific people who I do know personally read this (both from comments and watching incoming traffic logs), and that generally hasn’t bothered me.

However, it’s been brought to my attention that a few more people who I do know in real life may be reading this blog than I know about. So, if you do fall into that boat, I’d appreciate the courtesy of asking my permission first. It’s a public blog, and I can’t stop you, but considering I do take a very personal tact with my writing here, I would rather I knew specifically of those I know in real life was reading. This also applies to people I know spreading it around among our friends: if you’re going to tell other people I know, in future, please ask me.

I know there’s a few folk on LiveJournal who read this blog, so I thought I’d point out that this blog is now apparently syndicated on LiveJournal, courtesy of commenter Alyx.

Thanks to Alyx for setting this up.

People who read this blog might have noticed that I’d become a bit worried over the last couple of months about where exactly the Stanhope government was going with the Civil Partnerships Bill - specifically, whether it was ever going to be taken to the floor of the Legislative Assembly. I was relieved last week when Stanhope publicly attacked the federal government over its attempts at preventing the bill’s passage, and today, he’s gone a step further - a very crucial step further.

He’s publicly stepped forward on Melbourne’s queer community radio station, JoyFM, and declared that’s going to pass the bill before the ACT election in October, establishing that as something of a deadline for negotiations with the federal government, and all but affirmed once and for all that he will not accept a registry scheme as a replacement for the bill.

I’m stoked. I did not see this coming. I’ve got the actual quotes from the transcript (or at least the important bits) over the fold (props to Heidi from Good Process for passing this around). I’ve put the most important pieces in italics.

Continue Reading »

On queerness

I find myself having a strange dilemma these days.

I’ve never really passed for straight, or at least not until recently. From the time I was old enough for people to make assumptions about my sexuality, people have thought I was queer. In my early teens, that meant most people assumed I was gay. In my later teens, and then initially at uni, that meant that they still probably thought I was gay, but otherwise genderqueer and a bit confusing. And then when I first transitioned, when I wasn’t particularly confident and didn’t have the money to replace my old wardrobe, I found myself pretty seamlessly going from being read as gay to being read as a dyke.

As a consequence of all of this, I’ve never much cared as being read as queer in the past. It’s just been assumed, and it always felt as if it was being trumped by the trans stuff. I’m probably one of the more out queer people on this campus these days; I’m a past president of the campus queer group, and I tend to wind up being called up whenever there’s something happening here that calls for a queer voice. I’ve had closeted queer people that I’ve never met come up to me and come out to me before so they’ve at least been able to tell someone in this city. I’ve never had a problem with being the one to speak up when it’s needed; it’s been barely a month since I was interviewed on the TV news about the civil unions campaign, and my name’s probably going to be in the paper again in a couple of weeks when I speak at this press conference. So I’m pretty out on that front; I find myself in the slightly odd position these days where many more people I know read me as a dyke than know that I’m trans.

The upshot of this, however, is that I’ve generally only lived in queer, or otherwise really progressive circles, even a bit of a bubble if you will. I’ve never really had to take crap from people specifically for being queer (or not since I was about fourteen), because I tended to get judged based on being trans first. I’m not in that position anymore, though; since I don’t get misgendered accidentally any longer, it’s increasingly only those who need to know that I’m trans who find out about that. And since my presentation has changed some as I’ve become more comfortable with who I am and gotten myself a little bit more money, I’m increasingly being read as a straight girl by people that I’m just meeting. While this is very useful in environments where being out as queer might not go down so well, and a great relief not to even worry about being othered, I also find it very odd in light of all of the above.

There’s something deeper at the heart of all of this, though. I had a fairly conservative and heteronormative youth compared to most of my friends these days; most people I know now find it hard to believe that of all my friends from my mid-teens (who I was very much out to and who were fine with me), I’m the only one who isn’t engaged or married - at 22. I may have been presenting as in some way queer for years, but the expectations learned in those years, for me, have always been pretty ingrained. There’s a certain life that I’ve always expected I’d wind up having, even if delayed a few years because of the delays I had in transitioning. I’d always identified as bisexual because I knew I was attracted to women too, but I think on some level I always thought I’d wind up in a het marriage. Which is where I get to my current dilemma.

I’ve been starting to realise over the last couple of months that I don’t think I’m actually bisexual, and that I’m rather more likely a dyke. I’ve never really had to consider sexuality before, but now I find myself having the sort of internal battle over being a lesbian that most of my friends here had years ago. The prospect of going without that het privilege for good really scares me, and for one thing, it means an end to that particular idealised future. Beyond that, it means that I’m always going to have to worry about how less progressive types are going to react to me, even now that my transness is largely reduced as an issue.

I’m feeling that one directly at the moment. I have a job where all of my coworkers are straight, and where I suspect my being found out to be queer would probably result in my being treated differently, especially by the older women, meaning that I’m very much not out, and with no plans to become so. I’m not used to having something to lose by being outed as queer - but after a coworker saw me at a gay club on Thursday, and I’m assuming saw me kissing another girl, I find myself pretty worried that it’s going to get back to the girls in my department. It’s a situation I’m not used to being in, and a fear that I’m not used to having. There’s something else, too: the prospect of coming out specifically as a dyke feeds into my internalised transphobia, for being a lesbian is a bit of a cliche for transwomen, and I hate finding myself fulfilling those stereotypes with a bitter passion.

So I’m in a bit of a strange situation, and it’s all the more difficult for being unable to coherently explain it to most people. I’ve been effectively out as in some way queer my entire life, but it was either at high school, where I was so marginalised anyway that I really didn’t give a damn, or it was in the comfortable bubble of the queer community. Now that I’m stepping outside that, and finding comfort as being read as normative for the first time in my life, the prospect of actually being a dyke, as opposed to bisexual, and of being outed outside that comfortable bubble, appears as pretty fucking terrifying - and it’s a fear that I never really saw coming.

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