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on "not believing" ...
2004-05-24 @ 2:06 p.m.
Suddenly, it seems all these people I thought were my peers say they don't believe in marriage. A radical, queer, feminist spoken word poet I admire and adore recently proclaimed, "I don't believe in marriage," during a performance. Sitting next to my partner, whom I married in an act of civil disobedience at San Francisco's City Hall, I feel my cheeks flush. Is it embarrassment, or do I feel slapped in the face? The words "I don't believe�" usually precede concepts like ghosts, god, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter bunny and Santa Claus. Suddenly, something I did, something a Movement simultaneously condemns and fights for, becomes akin to an apparition, a folly to be discarded with the onset of maturity or intellect. As queer and/or radical and/or feminists, I think sometimes we've theorized ourselves into a corner. That which earned you an A on your thesis may not actually apply in the real world filled with shades of gray. And then some. Secretly, I feel embarrassed sometimes that I fell prey to the mainstream and got married. Not-so-secretly I'm fucking pissed that I feel ashamed and bound into a new box this way. It's no coincidence that I did the deed wearing my Radical Feminist t-shirt. How's that for fucking things up? But suddenly I'm a traitor to my politics? Take, for example, the feminist leader�a new mother, I might add�who asked me if it was hard for me, as a feminist that I got married. Never in a million years would it occur to me to insult her decision to have a child by asking if it was hard for her as a feminist to pop out a kid, the way she insulted my decision to get married. Yet, suddenly I'm no longer revolutionary, no longer radical? Sometimes being radical and thinking for yourself involves stepping out of the current mainstream of what's considered radical. Suddenly, I don't fit in your club? Suddenly, I'm outside the norm of radical? Sometimes being and thinking outside of the box means going beyond the box that formed to be out of the proverbial box. Four walls and a roof don't suit me so well. So to say, "I don't believe in marriage," is to negate all the royal we are advocating and fighting for. I never wanted or planned to get married either. But here I am. Maybe at some point we need to think about reclaiming and redefining the notions of partnership and love that currently fall under an umbrella called marriage. And that will be a great topic for a future dissertation or reunion with my feminist theory classmates. But, in the meantime, I'm not going to pull up my soapbox and tell women who've terminated their pregnancies that I don't believe in abortion and I'd never have one but it's ok because I vote pro-choice. And I'm not going to tell my partner's 4-year old niece that I don't believe in Santa Claus but have fun opening your stocking. At some point, are we much different from the right wing when we hint at what's ok and what's not ok? You don't believe in marriage. John Ashcroft doesn't believe in homosexuality. A disturbing parallel emerges. You don't believe in marriage? I don't believe in lack of liberal logic. For all our queer/feminist/radical/activist love of deconstruction, I think we could all benefit from some deconstruction of phrases like "I don't believe in marriage." And for all our embracing of theory, I think we might profit from employing theories of respect. Creating divisions between those of us who supposedly sold out and got married, and those of us who didn't because�one might say�we were already wedded to our theory, is the homophobic's wet dream. Divide and conquer. Bush & Company would love nothing more. So come on, help a sister out. I've got an entire venomous, hate-filled right wing disbelieving and opposing the fact that I got married. I don't need it from you too.
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