Pure As the Driven Slush: Heather Corinna's Journal and Diary, Online since 1999
March 5th, 2010

It’s possible I may be stating the obvious here, or saying something someone else has posited before without realizing, but something struck me last night, in the midst of insomnia, I wanted to put out there.  In the case you have read someone else saying the kinds of things I am, please leave me a reference in the comments.  I’d love to read someone writing more in depth about this.

So, you may have seen that I’ve started a large sex study about multigenerational experiences with and attitudes about casual sex.  (If you haven’t, and/or you haven’t taken it, I’d be so grateful if you did, by the way.  Same with getting the word out.  The link explains more of what I’m doing with it.) It’s gotten a lot of responses so far and also some feedback.

Someone tweeted that they were delighted with how I handled sex and gender on the study, and many people commented in the study that it was refreshing, and not what they’re used to with studies, to have so many options with sex and gender. Then, late last night, someone else tweeted that they didn’t understand why anyone was so impressed, because as well as including male, female and transgender, I included trans female and trans male as options.

I was already aware of the issues with “trans male” and “trans female” as identifiers, and understand that, particularly when used by a cis-person, they suggest that someone who ID’s as female but is not female-bodied is not “really” female or “truly” female.  At the same time, I included them because despite that, I still know people who prefer and use those identifiers for themselves.  For the record, even in leaving an open field for gender so people can self-ID however they want, I have a handful of people who picked trans female or trans male as their own IDs, more than chose transgender, and more than chose to ID as one sex at birth, then as male or female with their gender.  So, whatever anyone may think about those terms, some people are clearly still using them to identify themselves by choice.

Certainly, people outside marginalized/oppressed populations often voice an annoyance with the ever-changing language which tends to be common in these groups, whether it’s about the spelling of women, what indigenous people call themselves, or how gendervariant people identify. For instance, none of us in North America have likely been spared someone’s whiny vitriol about how those uppity indians keep trying to force everyone to be PC by asking us to call them anything but indians.  If you are or have ever been a member of a marginalized group yourself, I don’t need to tell you that within these groups, there is often great frustration about language changes and keeping up with them, some general eyerolling from some members, as well as a lot of infighting about proper language.

So, here’s what I’m thinking about ever-shifting language on the margins. The dominant groups, the ones in power, have had a LONG time to have the freedom to firmly establish their identities, with the privilege of not having their identities or language challenged by anyone most of the time who had any power to enforce those challenges: there is a level of flux in language and identity they do not have. Anyone who has tried to question or change dominant language in any way knows this all too well.

On the flip side, there is a necessary inflexibility in their language around identity and in identity overall if they are to firmly sustain their position of power-over: if they change their language, they change their identity, and thus, potentially their level of power and privilege and their stronghold on either.  If a man wants as much male privilege as possible, for example, he’s got to call himself a man, especially within that group.  Calling himself anything even remotely outside that can make his privilege more tenuous, less solid, may put it in question and put him at risk of not being considered a full member — or a member at all — of that group.

It’s really hard sometimes to be patient with ever-shifting language, especially when you want to get it right and be respectful of everyone, to fully acknowledge everyone, but are trying to get it right by everyone, which is always impossible in some contexts as everyone isn’t in agreement in any given group,  or even just when you want to freaking get things done rather than argue about language.  It’s also sometimes tough if you find an identity you like within a marginalized group, one that feels true to you, and are later told it’s unacceptable or out of vogue (I think of how many old-school feminists I know, for example, who still prefer “wimmin” as an identifier but who are going to have to take endless shit from everyone, including other women and other feminists, if they use it).

However, I think it’s a little easier to be patient about it thinking of it in these ways. We’re carving out identities more slowly, are still more in process, because we have only had so much time and freedom to do so, especially without our identities being adjunct to the identities of, or controlled by, the dominant groups. We are still in process, and there’s really no way around or shortcut in that process, especially in groups that have been oppressed and marginalized the longest and/or the most.

At the same time, we also have a freedom in that which those in — or who want to or feel they must align themselves with — dominant groups do not have.  As someone low-income all my life, I’ll often talk with people about how while being poor mostly blows (especially the poorer you are: I may be without a lot now, but I have most definitely been way worse off than I am at the present time), some aspects of being low-income provide some semblance of freedom I appreciate.  I have little to lose, for instance, and am not beholden to certain things people of means are. For example, I have had people say that even if I can’t find a healthcare plan to give me actual preventative care, I should really get catastrophic coverage somehow in the case I get hit by a truck.  However, as someone with no credit cards, no car, no house, the fact is that all that’d be is one more expense, and one that really only makes sense for people of a higher economic class than me. If I had to file for bankruptcy because of a ginormous hospital bill, I’d likely lose little to nothing because I have little to nothing to lose.  Weird as it can seem, there is a freedom in that, and I’m grateful for freedoms like that, particularly given all the downsides and ways that I’m stuck.

The same can go here with identities and language: there is a freedom in having flexibility around our language and identities, of being in flux, that I think often goes unacknowledged and unrecognized, especially when we’re tearing our hair out and driving each other up a tree about language.  The fact that any of us in marginalized groups are able to try on certain words and identities and adjust them as we go is no small deal.  It can allow us/others an authenticity and diversity that those who have privilege/power, especially those trying to make very sure they hold unto it, don’t have (or, more to the point, choose not to have, or feel they have too much to lose to have ) the freedom of having.

9 comments so far

  1. Tsunami Says:

    Here’s a few things I’m having trouble with in the survey:
    1) your definition of safer sex is a demanding one, and the options for answering are binary, so if I practiced somewhat safer sex (condoms, but no regular STD testing, say), it’s not clear how to answer.
    2) On 44, you ask what scares me about casual sex, but won’t accept “none of the above” as an answer — this is making me bail on the survey at this point, as I don’t want to pick something untrue in order to move forward.

    Overall I find my interpretation of “casual sex” is shifting a fair amount as I go through the survey, so I don’t necessarily mean the same thing by it on the first few pages as I do halfway through.

  2. Tsunami Says:

    Oh, another one: about alcohol and sex (or drugs and sex), picking a particular age range in which I had most combined alcohol and sex did not make sense to me. It seemed to imply a sort of binge activity that one would grow out of, rather than the “adults drink wine while watching a film and then maybe go to bed” experience of most of my adult life.

  3. Heather Corinna Says:

    Thanks for those comments.

    I agree, the one about drugs and alcohol is tough in that regard. I wasn’t thinking of it as necessarily binge or phasal activity. Rather, what I was looking for was information to make clear that drug/booze with sex is not something that only belongs to teens and high school students. But given the troubles with construction, I have been thinking about dumping that question there and putting something different about it in the follow-up survey.

    I don’t know why “none of the above” in that one Q isn’t working for you: I have some people who chose that answer recorded, so I don’t think it’s an issue with the study. :(

    The thing with the safer sex one is that from a sexual health standpoint, only using barriers but not getting any testing just isn’t practicing safer sex. Sure, it’s one part of it, but we frame safer sex as a group of things, not just one. So, I hear you, but at the same time, we know that it’s the group, not single parts of it, that actually work to help prevent and decrease STI transmission. Know what I mean?

  4. Tsunami Says:

    Yep, I know what you mean re safer sex, but does that mean you want everyone who falls short of that standard to answer as if they don’t do anything at all? Seems like you’re collapsing a large spectrum of behavior there, even if you view everything along that spectrum as equivalent in the (lack of) protection it provides. If so, that’s fine, but you might want to make that clearer for the people who are trying to figure out how to answer.

  5. tg Says:

    I had a little trouble with the “are you out?” question as the options were yes, no, NA, which seemed a bit drastic. I picked no, but I am out to some friends and certainly all sex partners.

  6. Cas Says:

    I got as far as question 9 before I was unable to answer.

    9. Have your sexual partners been:
    - Exclusively same-sex/same-gender
    - More or mostly same-sex/same-gender
    - More or mostly opposite-sex/opposite-gender
    - Exclusively opposite-sex/opposite-gender
    - A pretty equal mix/variety of sexes/genders

    I am genderqueer and there is no gender opposite to mine. However, most of my partners have not been genderqueer. So none of the options apply to me.

    I don’t think there’s a way that you can create a questionnaire within a multiple-choice format which doesn’t run into this kind of problem, so I’m not objecting specifically on this point, but more generally to the use of multiple choice questionnaires on sexuality.

    I understand the advantages that they bring (easily collating data, lower barrier to clicking-through and completing) but simply by their structure they will erase those of us who live in the gaps.

    I notice that the “religion” question had an “other” option. Perhaps this would be appropriate for every question, as well as a blurb which explains your objectives for the questionnaire and urges those completing it to only tick “other” if it’s either essential to their self-definition for a particular question, or if any other answer would align poorly to your research goals.

  7. Heather Corinna Says:

    Actually, on that one, I think the error was more mine than just about multiple-choice. It only struck me well after starting the survey that “different” is SO much better than opposite.

    I think we could still have it be multiple choice if I changed the language to same or similar, and opposite or different. So sorry for my (stupid, really) oversight. I feel particularly idiotic about it because those language constructions would fit my own sexual history better, too.

  8. Cas Says:

    What I mean about multiple choice being a poor medium is that the language of the kyriarchy is poorly designed to describe the variety of experience of marginalised people; when answers are restrained and can only be expressed in that language it’s going to be pretty much impossible to avoid that kind of mistake. Hell, I know that I couldn’t possibly write something on which every respondant could even make it to question 9. :P

    So I don’t think I’d characterise the mismatch as stupid - more, inevitable! I think it’s essential to have a minimum provision of “other” on every question where there could possibly be this kind of collision between kyriarchal language / diverse experience, to allow dialogue to take the place of picking and chosing our places in the heirarchy. :)

    Thank you for the response!

  9. Heather Corinna Says:

    Thanks for yours!

    You’re right. While I can’t fix that on this study at this point, I will on the follow-up.

    Certainly, it may mean way more time with data-collection (and also a lot of people who will have fit in one section, but don’t count themselves there: we got that a LOT w/people who clearly had had casual sex but checked in the main Q that they didn’t), but it’s worth it in my book.

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