Disclosure

This was a piece for a doc class I am taking, and is specifically targeted toward the academic environment, but it raises issues about other vanilla environments. While it specifically address the LGBT community, I, like other theorists, extend the word queer to the BDSM community.

My questions for this post, what are your thoughts on disclosure and openess about your lifestyle? What are your thoughts about the application of queer to O/ur community?



The topics of sexuality, and its visible/invisible subsets of heterosexuality/homosexuality, have exploded into the public/media/political arenas of exposure and debate. If we accept that education is never apolitical, we must admit that these topics are ever present in the educational environment. In Teaching to Transgress, hooks notes an eroticism in education that can never be fully denied, but that most of us seek to repress. It can be taken for granted that our world is a predominantly “straight” world regarding sexuality and expressions of sexuality, barring a few token counter examples in the media that, nevertheless, remain firmly at the margins. The classroom and educational structures replicate and reinforce these positions of sexuality. So, where does this position gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender (LGBT), and by extension, BDSM instructors? An issue arises: Should LGBT instructors disclose their counter-normative sexualities in the educational space?

This letter will examine this issue, and the problems essential to it, through the lens of queer theory, a critical philosophy with roots in feminist epistemology. Queer theory challenges the position of heterosexuality’s normative state (heteronormativity), the dualism of gay/heterosexual, and the essentialism of sexuality as a fixed aspect of identity. It is a theory of destabilization regarding each of these uncritically accepted positions and of the power relations/distributions contained in the claims that derive from them. But what of this word queer? Queer in this context refers to two notions: queer as subject position and queer as politic inquiry. Regarding queer as position of subject, queer refers to the marginality of the placement of those who view themselves as queer, that is anyone occupying spaces outside of normative sexuality, while simultaneously challenging the existence of the center and the margins. This includes individuals who practice homosexual sex (gay, lesbian, an bisexual), who are outside of normative gender constructions (transgendered), and those who practice sexuality outside the norms of sexual practice (i.e. those practicing BDSM: bondage/discipline, Domination/submission, sadism/masochism). Regarding politic, queer critically examines the power structures constructed around gender and sexuality political position of all participants in relation to each other. Paradoxically, Queer rebuffs its position outside of the normal and challenges approaches to assimilate it within the norm.

When examining queerly the issue of whether or not LGTB or otherwise queer (LGTBQ) instructors should disclose their sexualities in the classroom, the conclusions are not as simple as one might suppose. While on the surface, the act of disclosure, or “coming out” seems to be an act of challenge to the heteronormative, it is decidedly more complicated through this philosophical lens. Without context of purpose, disclosure is an act of revealing something hidden, and the purpose for that covering is related to its counter-normative position. The act of coming out immediately admits to things: my subject position is marginal and the politic of my position is opposed to that which is heterosexual (or in the case of BDSM, that which is vanilla, or encompassing normal sexual behaviors). Taken one at a time, the notion of marginal subject position is counter to the philosophical tenets of queer theory in that it acknowledges the subjects complicity in heteronormative structures, that is there is the norm and there is the non-normative, and S/he occupies the later. It also acknowledges the essentialness of this subject position, that is, sexuality is a fixed and unchangeable state. Regarding the queerness of politic, there is overlap with the queerness of subject. Coming out, uncritically, reinforces the power-dynamic that is structured into the heterosexual/homosexual/BDSM/vanilla/singular gender/multiple gender dualisms. Admittedly, there is perceived and actual cultural capital present on one side of these dualisms that is gained at the expense of the other position. Coming out, as a political act, can easily reinforce the power inherent in these dualisms by acknowledging Power’s presence by omission of its existence.

As noted, coming out is a complex act, and just as coming out can represent an act complicit to the heteronormative, silence represents an act that is equally complicit. When done out of political necessity, it acknowledges the marginality of a queer position and the domination of the heteronormative power structures i.e. the lesser amount of cultural and political capital of a queer position. Omission or silence at the subject level is an axiological confirmation of the value of the heteronormative at the vast expense of the queer. It reinforces the centrality of a non-queer subject and relinquishes the queer position to the margins; furthermore, it acknowledges that there is a center and margin regarding sexual identity, as well as the fixed essentiality of such positions. Fluidity is denied as an option.

Queer theory radically problematizes this issue of whether or not LGBTQ faculty disclose their sexuality in the classroom. For one, it presupposes that there is a fixed sexual identity. It also acknowledges the normative at the expense of the queer by maintaining that there is a reason for closedness, or in this case, closetedness. If nothing more, it raises problems of complexity and complicity in the issue at hand.

Thanks for posting.

Having not read 'Teaching..." I won't comment too much on the letter, other than to say it seems to assume a rigid view of the educational process. Perhaps the environment is less determined, and can support multiple analyses of power, ideology and 'eroticism'. Or perhaps not all educational systems participate equally in this complicity. This would call in to question whether silence is always equal to repression. Of course one could also say that the act of 'coming out' is useless as this action has already been co-opted and remains futile by its very definition of announcing oneself at the (powerless) margin.

As for your real question, disclosure is problematic to me because BDSM has not (yet) been viewed thru the same social lens as LGBT individuals. Although I would champion its inclusion, I think it is a much more slippery Identity, with far more shades of inclusion/exclusion. For the most, LGBT folks can each identify with a singular vision. BDSMers are all over the map (including LGBT BDSMers). Sadly, its almost as if BDSMers are still stuck in the 1950's while LGTBers move forward (of course no one is being billy-clubbed like gays in the 50's).

Disclosure to me, is not that important, but would be nice in certain situations. Using Queer as a signifier may be helpful, specifically in academia, but not that helpful 'on the street'.

As a bisexual bdsmer, I'm kind of uncomfortable putting BDSM under the umbrella of queerness in a political context. In a literary/cultural context, sure, a story about a person who practices BDSM could obviously deal with a lot of queer themes, and be read in a queer studies class. But when we're talking about politics, and, by extension, real peoples' real lives, I'm uncomfortable saying that the experience of being a BDSMer is anywhere near as politicized or as marginalizing as the experience of a GLBT person.

Why? Because when I'm talking to a co-worker, family member, teacher, etc, sometimes I want to tell a story about my girlfriend and say that she's my girlfriend without a lot of drama involved -- whether that means them saying "ohhh, I didn't know you were..." or asking me questions about whether I'm bi or gay, or just trying to act extra understanding and friendly for the rest of the day to make sure I know they're "okay with it." I don't get to do that. Now, I don't get to openly talk about my Master either, but the difference is that I don't *want* to, and neither do most other BDSM folks I know.

I know I'm going to get jumped for saying this, but for most of us, BDSM is about eroticism. That doesn't mean that it's ALL ABOUT SEX -- I know that a lot of the things my husband and I do as a D/s couple aren't automatically sexual and don't always happen in the bedroom or immediately before and after sex. But even when it's something "innocent," I think the primary purpose of almost all BDSM behaviors is to play on and enhance the eroticism of the relationship itself, or just of the particular moment you're in, in the case of people playing outside of a relationship. Some people are interested in talking about their erotic lives with everyone, all the time, but for most of us, part of what makes it exciting is the fact that it's relatively private. In fact, for exhibitionists/voyeurs, humiliation sluts, the erotic blackmail community, and a lot of other categories of BDSMers, the thrill actually originates from the fact of participating in an activity that isn't considered socially acceptable or appropriate for public viewing.

Unlike BDSM, being queer is *not* just about eroticism -- it can just be about wanting to go out to a movie with someone you have a crush on, not about what you're doing when the lights are out. And honestly, the people I've known who are most adamant about wanting the right to talk about BDSM whenever, wherever have generally seemed like the sort of straight, white, privileged young man who really wants to be able to argue from a place of oppression.

I admit to also being kind of amazed by the juxtaposition of the context and the article, which is about queer teachers coming out to their students. Honestly, I think it's entirely the teacher's business whether they're comfortable coming out or not. No one should have to come out in order to educate or be a role model for someone else. On the other hand, does anyone think it's a good idea for a teacher who does BDSM to "come out" to his/her students? To me it seems like a nightmare. Give one harsh lecture and all of a sudden you'd be accused of sexual harassment for trying to sexually dominate your students. Honestly, when I'm teaching I don't mind if my students know that I like to go out with women, but I'd really rather not have them thinking about what I like to do in bed with them.