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Last night I felt beautiful
Mar. 13th, 2009 06:53 pmLast night there was an evening (academically) celebrating the writing of Joan Nestle.
She founded The Lesbian Herstory Archive, she's been Out since the 50's and is an advocate for LGBT and Queer rights and writes the most amazing Lesbian writing.
Recently several stories from her books A Restricted Country and A Fragile Union have been translated into Hebrew (and if rumours are to be trusted, they will be translated into Arabic as well some time soon).
I bought the translated book a few months ago, as a treat for myself and my dear friend![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
arnavtul lent me her copy of Nestle's book in English.
There aren't a lot of books that enable you to see yourself more clearly.
Last night was a community evening.
My friend V said that these evenings haven't changed in the past 15 years.
For me there was something so beautiful about knowing that these evenings exist in my Uni, that they are sponsored by academia and that I know without a shadow of a doubt, that I'm part of the majority in a space in which that majority really is a community.
For me these cultural evenings are new.
So while I understand V's frustration at it being the same people over and over again, for me it's fantastic.
It was in my IDF service that I met, for the first time, other Queers.
People with who I could talk about my desires and know they understand.
My daily lunch breaks were more than just a break from the tedium of office work and the oppression I didn't know was crushing me with Dacron uniforms and a military mindset that drove me nuts for two years.
These breaks were also a kind of community building in which my queerness wasn't odd, it was the norm.
It was awesome.
And after my service that little community disappeared and I was Queer alone except for the internet and seeing a portion of the U.S. LGBT community while I was in the States was very a good thing, it was also when I really freed myself of all kinds of things I didn't know were crushing me - the oppression I couldn't name.
I shaved my head.
I travelled alone.
I knew I belonged in Israel.
Entering Uni was great.
Studying what I study - Literature and Women & Gender - Those are the fields (any of the Humanities, really) in which we tell ourselves who we are and who we perceive ourselves to be.
The head of the Lit department is Gay and visible about it - not in the sense that he talks about it, but in the fact that the closet is just not there. Same with so many other lecturers that I love and admire and hope to eventually speak to on an even keel.
The visibility of LGBT lecturers and LGBT evenings and conferences is so precious and important.
For most Straight and Cisgender* people they are sub-cultural events which are fun to attend (it's awesome that Straight and Cisgender people attend) but I always get the feeling that they attend because they want to see something Different, even if they are very close friends with Queers, their world view is filtered through the default and it's probably thrilling to be in a place in which they feel different because of their sexuality and gender identity.
Queers feel excluded every day because of that.
It may sound dramatic, but my friend V told me of violence I've had the privilege not to experience.
The double standard of dates because I'm with another grrl and not with a boi.
The assumption that everyone is straight unless proven otherwise.
That we chose this life.
This hard life in which same-sex couples have to go to court in order to adopt and travel to Canada in order to marry.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.
Last night was so good.
I felt beautiful.
I felt as though I was bubbled in a cocoon of a culture that really is my own and not one I am on the margins of because of what's between my legs and in my heart.
Thank you Joan.
Foor Notes
*Not Transgender
She founded The Lesbian Herstory Archive, she's been Out since the 50's and is an advocate for LGBT and Queer rights and writes the most amazing Lesbian writing.
Recently several stories from her books A Restricted Country and A Fragile Union have been translated into Hebrew (and if rumours are to be trusted, they will be translated into Arabic as well some time soon).
I bought the translated book a few months ago, as a treat for myself and my dear friend
arnavtul lent me her copy of Nestle's book in English.There aren't a lot of books that enable you to see yourself more clearly.
Last night was a community evening.
My friend V said that these evenings haven't changed in the past 15 years.
For me there was something so beautiful about knowing that these evenings exist in my Uni, that they are sponsored by academia and that I know without a shadow of a doubt, that I'm part of the majority in a space in which that majority really is a community.
For me these cultural evenings are new.
So while I understand V's frustration at it being the same people over and over again, for me it's fantastic.
It was in my IDF service that I met, for the first time, other Queers.
People with who I could talk about my desires and know they understand.
My daily lunch breaks were more than just a break from the tedium of office work and the oppression I didn't know was crushing me with Dacron uniforms and a military mindset that drove me nuts for two years.
These breaks were also a kind of community building in which my queerness wasn't odd, it was the norm.
It was awesome.
And after my service that little community disappeared and I was Queer alone except for the internet and seeing a portion of the U.S. LGBT community while I was in the States was very a good thing, it was also when I really freed myself of all kinds of things I didn't know were crushing me - the oppression I couldn't name.
I shaved my head.
I travelled alone.
I knew I belonged in Israel.
Entering Uni was great.
Studying what I study - Literature and Women & Gender - Those are the fields (any of the Humanities, really) in which we tell ourselves who we are and who we perceive ourselves to be.
The head of the Lit department is Gay and visible about it - not in the sense that he talks about it, but in the fact that the closet is just not there. Same with so many other lecturers that I love and admire and hope to eventually speak to on an even keel.
The visibility of LGBT lecturers and LGBT evenings and conferences is so precious and important.
For most Straight and Cisgender* people they are sub-cultural events which are fun to attend (it's awesome that Straight and Cisgender people attend) but I always get the feeling that they attend because they want to see something Different, even if they are very close friends with Queers, their world view is filtered through the default and it's probably thrilling to be in a place in which they feel different because of their sexuality and gender identity.
Queers feel excluded every day because of that.
It may sound dramatic, but my friend V told me of violence I've had the privilege not to experience.
The double standard of dates because I'm with another grrl and not with a boi.
The assumption that everyone is straight unless proven otherwise.
That we chose this life.
This hard life in which same-sex couples have to go to court in order to adopt and travel to Canada in order to marry.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.
Last night was so good.
I felt beautiful.
I felt as though I was bubbled in a cocoon of a culture that really is my own and not one I am on the margins of because of what's between my legs and in my heart.
Thank you Joan.
Foor Notes
*Not Transgender
