In this reading, Eli Clare discusses and analyzes the issues around the reappropriation of words, phrases, and symbols that were once used to oppress certain groups. He points out some words that have been reappropriated by some people in the disabled community, such as gimp, cripple, retard, and freak. He then describes his relationship to each of those words. He also talks about his relationship to the word queer and how for him it is empowering to him because of its ability to be both a shocking word and a word infused with self-love. Out of all of the reappropriated words, a few are associated with more uneasiness and pain for Clare, for example, retard. However, the word that is most unsettling for Clare is freak. Clare tells a bit of the history of freakdom to show why this word is so complicated. On one hand it is a painful history of horrific objectification of people perceived as different, on the other hand the word freak holds within it the history of a time of greater autonomy for disabled people (complicated). Clare talks about how people referred to as freaks could start their own businesses and be employed because of their perceived otherness, this was before the medicalization of disabled people. After disabled people were medicalized (1930s-40s) and diagnosis/treatment entered the picture, freak shows became unacceptable. Also, civil rights made it unacceptable to objectify people of color in freak shows. Obviously, neither freak shows or medicalization was good, but Clare argues that for some disabled people at that time, medicalization could have been seen as worse. Oftentimes, doctors cared less about their dignity than the people running the freak shows, and at least then disabled people could be employed. Clare concludes with a summary of why reappropriation is complicated and certain words and symbols are harder/impossible to reappropriate than others depending on the person and the meaning behind the words.
We've talked a little about the reappropriation of words in class and this text just highlights how complicated the issue is. This text also relates to the notion that what works for some, doesn't work for all. Some people in the disabled community find it empowering to take back derogatory words, others find it painful. Just like within the LGBT community some words/ideas don't apply or appeal to everyone who identifies with the community.
Questions: What are some issues that arise from the reappropriation of words? Is it ever useful, or does it just reopen wounds? Should we use the words of our oppressors, or our own words? Can you ever truly take the hurt out of some words? What about the "Ubangi Savages" and other people of color, how do they complicate the story of freakdom? How were they further marginalized?
As someone who uses a reappropriated slur (queer) to define her sexuality, I often wonder about the politics of the word I have chosen to define myself by. On the one hand, I like 'queer' because of its combined ambiguity and assertion of non-heterosexuality- I am not straight and I wish to be recognized as not straight, but beyond that, I don't really wish to try to put a label on who I'm attracted to or how I'm attracted to them. Honestly, I sometimes feel like my choice of the word "queer" stems from pure laziness and apathy- I don't care to try to define my attraction more definitively and I don't care if that bothers you (using "you" in the general).
ReplyDeleteAt the same time, I am constantly aware that the word "queer" is reclaimed, and that my choice to use it is wrapped up in this complex discussion and decades of oppression, a lot of which I sometimes have trouble laying claim to. I spent all of highschool in a heterosexual relationship, didnt really engage with my queerness until I came to college, and often feel like because I am 'new' to being out and have never experienced what I would consider active oppression based on my queerness, that I don't have as much of a "right" to use the reclaimed slur as others do. I also would never want the label I use to be a trigger for someone else, although I believe (and please correct me if I'm wrong) that "queer" has more historical and less present-tense use as a slur (as opposed to the f-word or t-word), so I would run into this problem less with my peers and more with an older generation of LGBT people. Overall, I think that self-determination is important, and allowing people to choose which reclaimed words they use to define themselves and which they do not is of incredible importance.
This was such a thoughtful response, Micaela! Much of what you said perfectly expressed a lot of my own concerns/reservations for identifying as queer. The fact that we have to worry about whether or not we can take up a word with a contested history based on how "'to to being out" we are speaks a lot to the power of language and to how we understand ownership of words. However, wondering whether or not we are invited into the people-who-identity-as-queer club because we may not be queer enough, which must be based on an entirely arbitrary queerness scale, seems to reek of the same misconception, discrimination and intolerance that empowered people to use the word queer derogatorily against others in the first place.
DeleteMicaela, I'm 100% with you on 'queer.'
DeleteQueer seems to me like it's been used a slur more in the past compared to other gender- and sexuality-based words. I grew up in MA, though--maybe it's different elsewhere.
I also use 'queer' a self-descriptor out of laziness. Sometimes I use it simply because the vocabulary lesson required in explaining my gender/sexuality to straight people (and sometimes other queer people!) is too much of a pain.
In public places occupied mainly by straight people, I worry about saying 'queer' out loud because if they can't tell I'm queer I think they might think I'm using the word in a derogatory way. Anyone else find this happening to them?
I agree. The word "queer" may have a painful history, but worrying about whether it offends people may not be productive, especially when we use the word in a positive context (as I believe I do). I think the word queer is great because it doesn't force people to have to explain as much about their sexuality. I also think that the people the word describes have a right to use it, even if other generations may not feel the same way.
DeleteI first began identifying with the term "queer" after I met Micaela, actually. For a while, I struggled with others trying to assign a particular sexuality to me. They didn't seem to want to actually get into my head and understand what I felt toward people; only put a label, a simple word, onto it so that they could feel they knew more definitively what it was. I've accepted that that label is more for them than it is for me, and I've found that "queer" – although occasionally requiring elaboration – is the most comfortable and least confining term to use. It's like an umbrella that says just enough to satisfy curiosity.
DeleteLike some of you, I sometimes wonder how my use of this word may be perceived by others. I use it casually; it's not something delicate to me because it is how I identify. However, I understand that, for some, that might not be the case. For me, it is empowering; a way to identify without having to, and that is validation enough.
I love this response! You properly espoused my sentiment about the self-labeling as "queer".
DeleteHowever, you guys should consider yourself lucky that you are from locales that never used "queer" as a slur. Coming from a fairly conservative (highly homophobic) suburb in California, I heard the word queer a lot growing up (in addition to a plethora of other homophobic slurs). In middle school this term was used to regulate people's mannerisms, speech, and sexual desire. While it was not always the first word kids would use to "emasculate" a peer, it definitely would be thrown around as a means of bullying. However, I do believe this is changing and might just be a specific case to add to the long list of horribleness that occurs in Orange County, my suburban nightmare.
I see your comment was well liked by our classmates. However, I disagree with your response wholeheartedly. Words can hurt and oftentimes that hurt lasts longer than physical abuse. You hid behind your queerness in high school by being in a heterosexual relationship and only after you came to college you opened up about your "queerness". My guess is because you are away from your family and your friends back at home and, thus, your life is much easier by being open about it now than it would have been then. As the author pointed out on page 68 how being called a retard by not only strangers but by teachers, doctors, classmates, and neighbors and how this word and others hurt him much more than rocks and rubber bullets. As you wrote, "I believe (and please correct me if I'm wrong) that "queer" has more historical and less present-tense use as a slur (as opposed to the f-word or t-word), so I would run into this problem less with my peers and more with an older generation of LGBT people.", this has less to do with your generation using the word to oppress others. The fact is people of your generation, and perhaps the next one, are still being oppressed by this word (among others) and you should think of yourself as lucky as to have not yet (hopefully not ever) to be subject to such malice. I agree with you, who people are attracted to is of a personal matter and is no else's business. However, that is not going to protect the LGBT community from being harassed, bullied, or even worse.
DeleteHi, all!
DeleteAn important note, Gari, as I catch up with the blog from my wisdom teeth healing: Let's refrain from using others' sexual identities in quotation marks given the implications of inauthenticity, and let's not presume whether being in a different-sex relationship means one is "hiding".
I will address this tomorrow in class, everyone, but civility must be maintained for our blog to work, and there have been a few instances already among a few of us where civility was unfortunately not achieved.
Thanks,
Shannon
I firmly believe that the reappropriation of a word should be determined by the group that that word was used against, and also that individuals have a right to find a word personally offense and disagree with the majority of the group (not that a group of any marginalized people is some sort of monolith, but when I say "the group believes" I mean "the majority of the group" or sometimes, unfortunately, "the loudest voices of the group"). A petite person finding the word "stick" to be hurtful is not on the same plane as a LGBTQA person finding the word "faggot" offensive. Any word can be triggering because of personal reasons, and individuals have a right to ask friends or family to not use that word because of the trauma it causes. That being said, an individual's personal pain is not on the same level as institutionalized words created or morphed to degrade people. I also believe (and I'm sure someone may disagree) that "slurs" against oppressive groups are not the same as slurs against marginalized groups (in fact, I struggle just to think of any "slurs" used against, say, white people, but I know they exist heavily in "reverse-racism" arguments).
ReplyDeleteAnother thing this piece made me think about is what words we perceive as offensive. For example, as a queer woman, I am hyper-aware of terms such as "faggot," "dyke," "bitch," "whore," and so on. To me, those words are inappropriate and I don't think they should be used by anyone. I'm sure people will disagree, and I'm okay with marginalized people reclaiming the word (e.g. women reclaiming "slut," although I don't think there is a need for this word) but am very upset by oppressive groups who try to re-reappropriate a word (e.g. white people saying "nigga/er" because they see African American groups reclaiming it and think it's okay to say it now). I'm strongly of the opinion that if a word is a slur against a marginalized group, no matter if it reclaimed by that group or not, it should never be used by the non-marginalized group. This leads me to my next point, which is that I don't always notice words that have never been used against me due to my own personal privilege. Casual racist or ableist language slips by me all the time, and since I am never it's target, I was (until very recently) never aware of its use. Now, I do try to call out people who use offensive language, even if I am not the target.
I echo what's stated above. I do, however, want to emphasize that "reappropriation of a word should be determined by the group that the word was used against". This is highly important because these words only further marginalize [group] when used by a group that is not the group in question, especially when used by the oppressive group (e.g., I'm okay with women using "bitch" as a term of endearment; I am not okay with men referring to me using this word)
DeleteI completely agree with Eliza's statement about oppressive groups. While I think that reappropriation of words has the potential to be empowering, I've seen a lot of instances where the group that originally used the word in an oppressive way uses it freely and, in my opinion, inappropriately. For example, I overheard a conversation in the dining hall a few weeks ago where a group of white guys was arguing about whether or not it was okay to use "nigga" in reference to a song. It was interesting that any of them thought they had the authority to decide if this was okay or not at all.
DeleteI was happy to see the reference to the Coco Fusco and Guillermo Gomez-Peña piece as it was something I was thinking about throughout this reading. I've written on it and studied it a bunch before so I thought for anyone interested I'd add this link to a video made in relation to it (TOTALLY WORTH WATCHING) and Coco Fusco's arresting paper dealing with the exhibition of humans, especially in post-colonial sensibilities.
ReplyDeleteVideo: http://vimeo.com/7319457
Paper (if you don't want to read the whole thing, I recommend at least reading the timeline as it is jarring): http://www.csun.edu/~vcspc00g/301/CFusco-OtherHistory-TDR.pdf
Thanks so much for posting links to the video and the article, Drew!
DeleteAlso, I'm a little confused by Clare's specific definitions of "witness"/"witnessing" here so if anyone has any clarification I'd much appreciate it!
ReplyDeleteThe reappropriation of words is a complex issue that shouldn't be seen as black and white. There are so many different instances where some of these terms are appropriate, and where some of these terms should stay a taboo. It can definitely be argued that the reappropriation of the word queer shows our progression as a society, that we have advanced the bigotry associations of the word queer and in doing so, embraces the concept proudly. We are always progressing as a society, and hence, terms could change from a derogatory manner to a positive term.
ReplyDeleteHowever, the history of a word might be subjective, and words can bring agony to people who find themselves strongly affiliated with the term. Eli Clare writes about the history of the term freak. To Eli Clare, freak associates with the circus, and this touches upon issues such as exploitation, and the subversion under the supremacy of whites. Although I find that today's pop culture adopts the word Freak as a term associated with frisky, fun sexual activity, personally to Eli Clare, there is too much sorrow to this word that it can never be an reappropriated to a term for him to use. To respond to your question, you can definitely take the hurt out of some of these words, but I believe this can only be a subjective phenomenon.