Bi Bloggers

By

Gayville and Straight Town

Once, a very drunk man in a pub referred to the friends I was with and me as lesbians.  I explained how wrong he was, we got talking.  He told me he was of a generation that recognized only gays and straights, really.  I nodded; this is hardly new to me.

He got drunker and told me his great idea about gay towns and gay schools and straight towns with straight everything, different everything for gay people than for straight people.

I tried to appreciate where he was coming from: how much sense gay schools would make to people who lived through Section 28, how even if he didn’t remember homosexuality being illegal, he would have grown up in a culture where it hadn’t long been decriminalized.

But my brain loves taking surreal ideas to their absurd conclusions, so my attempt to be charitable didn’t last long.  I couldn’t help wondering where I’d fit in. Would I have to live in Straight Town with my straight husband?  I’d miss my queer friends!  A lot of them, if judged on a relationship they were perceived to be in, would have to abruptly move house at odd intervals.  What would happen when a child in a Gayville school realized they were straight?  Imagine the weird but necessary fostering programs.

I felt a little sad for this guy, that he thought that’d work, that the world cleaves neatly into gays and straights.  No edge cases, nothing outside the binary, no problems.

Even compared to that convoluted utopia, the world I am aware of is more complicated, marginalized, chaotic, misunderstood, and amorphous, but also capable of a kind of beauty that wouldn’t be possible withotu that complexity


By

The dangerous idea of two parallel lines

The great thing about being bisexual is that the stuff we care about and campaign for and everything benefits not just us but you too, even if you’re not bisexual.

Prime example: there’s increasing talk lately of gay marriage.  Or, as we bisexuals (and others) like to call it, equal marriage.

This is a personal bugbear of mine; I try to correct people who say “gay marriage” (sometimes I just make faces though).

It bugs me because I am married — I was able to move to a new country when I got married; it was a pretty big deal for me. And I was able to do that because I got married to a man, so that allowed the visa paperwork and the wedding in my mom’s church to go ahead smoothly.

If my transatlantic relationship had been with a woman, I couldn’t have gotten married in that church, I couldn’t get any kind of legal recognition for the relationship in the beloved state of my birth (where such same-sex civil unions are not only illegal, but voters will be asked next month about a constitutional amendment to guarantee they’ll never allowed), and there would’ve been no way to satisfy both the requirements for my visa and my family’s desire to be at my wedding.

Marriage isn’t equal.

But marriage isn’t straight either.  Marriage hasn’t traditionally, universally been “between one man and one woman” as conservative Americans keep telling me.  Relationships don’t have sexualities, so marriage isn’t straight and we’re not after a special dispensation to make it gay.

It’s interesting to see some people  realizing that they’re having to defend inequality.  The other day I read about the executive director of a homophobic group talking about the importance of logos because he’s just given his new group a logo.  He said “When I moved to Washington I noticed these small blue stickers with two yellow lines permeating the city. They were on cars, t-shirts, and lamp posts. It wasn’t long before I Googled “blue sticker yellow lines” and discovered it is the logo of the Human Rights Campaign, one of the nation’s largest gay rights organizations.”  This guy, Slacktivist says,

is surely aware that two parallel lines make an equal sign, he just can’t bring himself to say it. He won’t allow the word “equality” to be spoken, or even thought.

It reminded me of a previous example of the dangers of the E-word, which I remember from the Sociological Images blog earlier this year.

Gov. Christie says he will veto it.  The bill is a “marriage equality” law.

The governor is in a bit of a squeeze.  As a Republican with ambitions beyond New Jersey’s borders, he can’t very well be for gay marriage.  But if his opponents can frame the matter their way, he now has to come out against equality.

The author of that post sees “equal marriage” as a bit of a sneaky trick by the proponents of same-sex marriage, but I guess (I would say this though, wouldn’t I?) to me it isn’t just spin.  it isn’t about sounding good or winning people to our cause — though of course I think those things are awesome too.  It’s really what it feels like to me.

We really are having to live in inequality.


By

What not to say when you find out someone’s queer

I like living in an age where Frank Ocean comes out and people everywhere don’t give a shit, loudly, in text spk.

I read this on Twitter last week.  I do not like that I live in that age, but I couldn’t figure out how to explain it in 140 characters or fewer.  Being a curmudgeonly Radio 4 listener, I didn’t even know who Frank Ocean was until there was a tempest in an internetcup about him coming out. More about that later.

But I actually do not like living in a world where people don’t care that someone’s gay (or trans or bi or genderqueer or anything really).  I want people to care.

A friend told me the other day she tried to explain to someone why “So?” isn’t a good response to someone coming out.  I don’t know how the conversation went, but  Ican guess…

dear heterofolk: coming out is actually NOT a surprise party we’re throwing just for you; variations on “I’m not surprised” make u a douche

–also from Twitter

Unrelatedly, someone told me “We really, really need to not care about sexual preferences.”  She’s very proud she’s doing her part.  I told her this sounds like she didn’t care about me, because being bi is an integrated part of my identity — there’s more to sexuality than sex! — but it didn’t seem to make any difference.

People think the best thing they can do with minority sexualities is ignore them.  I disagree.

Don’t tell me it’s private.  Tiger Beatdown explains it better than I could:

Heterosexuals do announce their sexuality in public, all the time, of course. Walking down the street holding hands, kissing their lover, wearing wedding rings, clothing and other aesthetic codes… In his coming out letter, Cooper notes that he didn’t come out because a reporter’s private life shouldn’t matter. Indeed. But part of the point is, being heterosexual isn’t private – it’s public.

Oh there are some people who think they’re private about their heterosexuality, but they do benefit from a heteronormative culture.  Maybe they’re uncomfortable with anyone else’s display of sexual identity because they don’t really think they have to have one.   never have to think about it.

Pretty much anything that makes a person go “Wow, I never have to think about that” is probably related to some kind of privilege.  A lot of people don’t like the word “privilege,” but I think it’s just a word for not even knowing (or not caring) what you’re taking for granted.

And I can see how people are trying to extend this privilege by saying “I don’t care, it doesn’t matter” in the same way that they don’t care about their own sexuality and think it doesn’t matter.  They’re often well-intentioned, and often not worth quibbling with — we have to pick our battles.

And yes, it’s possibly not directly important to the quality of Frank Ocean’s music whether he’s straight or not…but actually, I could easily see that being out as something other than straight might give him the freedom to address songs to non-heteronormative partners (real or theoretical) or queer subject matter.  Maybe just not having the tension of keeping a secret will allow him to concentrate better on his art.

You can do better than “not care”: you can be happy for us; you can be nice to us, show some interest in us.  We don’t have to “admit” we’re queer like we’re confessing a murder, but if it sounds like we do, you can acknowledge our battles and help us fight them.

One reaction like this makes me happier than a million “we don’t care”s.

It seems to me that this reaction to Ocean’s statement is symptomatic of our lack of sensitivity and understanding when it comes to human sexuality. The media and general discourse wants to place a definition and polarising assessment of sexuality that, for many of us, simply isn’t part of our reality. Despite the gradual eroding of homophobia in British culture (and there’s still a lot more distance left to cover on that front, despite what we’re told) it seems to me that bisexuality is still very much a taboo, for women as well as men.

A public figure coming out is a big deal.  Someone you know coming out to you is a big deal.  It’s a chance not just to learn something about that person, but to examine our own assumptions, prejudices and the many ways in which the world we live in is not quite the world we might want it to be.  I know a lot of you want to be properly supportive and give the “right” answers and everything, and I just thought you should know that saying “So?” or “I don’t care” or “it doesn’t matter” or “I’m not surprised” isn’t really any help.  It does matter, and we care.

Again from that Tiger Beatdown entry:

So as a queer woman, I find cynicism and snark from heterosexual people who’ve never experienced the pressure of either the closet or outness just a little much. It’s not the sign of your comfort with queer culture that you might think it is, and it’s not particularly supportive.  We still face immense pressure, and that requires your empathy and compassion, not your judgment.


By

Happy What Happens In People’s Pants Is No Concern Of Yours (WHIPPINCOY) Day

Yes, IDAHO is fun for a minute. But it was never going to be a good acronym.

First of all, for something international, don’t name it after something geographical.  Every individual place, be it the Potato State or a Swiss canton or a Pacific island about to sink into the anthropogenic sea, pales in comparison to International.

Second of all, the International Day Against HOmophobia has in the few years since I heard about it morphed into the International Day of Trans People Snarking “It’s Pronounced in the French manner, IDAHOT with a silent T.”  Now you can tell the clued-in people who get that language matters by the fact that they call it the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia.

And I can tell that if someone so much as mentions “Biphobia” it’s probably someone I know.

My issue, of course, isn’t that trans people should feel included, but that it shouldn’t stop there.  This is a general trend of queer activism in the last several years: everything that had been “lesbian and gay” switched to “LGBT” without changing anything but the name at first.  Trans folk have kicked up a massive fuss, very rightly so, and now there’s a lot of recognition that trans people should be explicitly included, listened to, represented, and respected.

But I think, if for no other reason than “it’s getting to be a mouthful to say the names of everything” (“End homophobic bullying in schools” is a snappy campaign; “End homophobic and transphobic bullying in schools” is even more worthy but starts to lose some people by the end; “End homophobic, transphobic and biphobic bullying in schools” is fairest, yes, but it’s also an unwieldy phrase that nobody likes, even if they like the sentiment behind it.

Ditto IDAHOBT.  That’s not even an acronym any more; it’s just a bad hand in Scrabble.

I don’t want to disparage trans or gay activists for the hard work they’ve done in getting things as far as they have.

But is this it? Are we done now?

I think some people think that bi people are covered by “homophobia” — after all, when they’re not acting gay, they’re acting straight, right?  Whiners!

Of course it’s true that bi people do experience homophobia — if someone shouts abuse at me for holding hands with a girl, I’m not going to stop and carefully tell them I’ve held hands with guys too, and even if I did, I don’t think that would impress them — but biphobia is not just “homophobia when it happens to bis.”

Biphobia is every time bis are called greedy, or indecisive, or cheaters, or the reason straight people can get STDs, or just going through a phase, or gay really, or straight really, or not really queer any more if they’re in a mixed-gender relationship.  Biphobia is bi erasure and bi invisibility — every time you talk about “gay” marriage, or tell me all people currently married are straight, every “bi women might hot but there are no bi men” …

This is all distinct from homophobia and transphobia and it would be nice if that were as widely acknowledged.  Right now I feel we’re like the state of Idaho: important to the people who live there, but what can anyone else tell you about it?


By

Response to google searches

bisexual and never been with someone my own gender

You are not alone, O searcher of the internets! (Though you’d do better searching The Bisexual Index than my blog; which explicitly mentions this issue, as well as many many others.)

Take heart; being bi doesn’t have these kinds of hurdles to clear — while I too once wondered whether I was “bi enough” to “count” as bisexual, as I like to say now, it’s not a fairground ride sign with a line on it, saying “you have to be at least this queer.”  Bi events don’t have a guy and a girl (or people of any other genders) standing either side of the door demanding you snog them both before you’re allowed to enter.

At least, not the ones I’ve been to!

While people who haven’t yet had a date or a shag or anything are believed if they say they’re gay, and if they don’t everyone assumes they’re straight, somehow with bisexuality there is a lot of pressure — both internal and external — to “prove” it, that you can’t really know until you’ve “tried both” (or more than one at least) genders.

I think this is especially true for people who come at bisexuality from a straight identity (maybe just because that’s what I did!).  When you’ve been trundling along fitting more or less into society’s expectations of what your partners should be like, it’s a little intimidating to think that might not be all there is to your attractions.  But how do you go about finding out?  The bars or clubs you go to and the groups or circles of friends you’re a part of probably don’t give you a ton of exposure to contexts where you can act on that same-gender attraction…or if you go to gay clubs, they may not like your “straight”-seeming history.

Plus you could be, like me, a fancier of girls who’s still utterly rubbish at pulling them.  This is a non-trivial concern: all the attraction in the world doesn’t get you anywhere without someone reciprocating!

how to tell if a bisexual man fanceys you

The same way you can tell if anyone else fancies you, I suppose: ask them? look for subtle clues? spy on their social media updates? quiz their friends? be nice, look interested and see what happens?

Being bisexual doesn’t change the rules of stuff like this.  We don’t have a secret signal or anything.  (Or if there is one, no one’s told me about it!  And I’m a card-carrying bisexual and everything!  Man, it’d be awesome if there was a secret signal.  I’m what we call flirt-blind.  But anyway, I digress!)

This blog supports the radical notion that bis are people too, so the rules you’re used to probably apply to us too.  Probably.  Some of us are contrary just for the sake of it.  But we still want to know if you fancy us.

do bi people get married

Yes!  Bi people do get married. I’m a married bi person.

Some can’t marry the people they’d like to, because of marriage inequality, but some of those would like to get married…and some wouldn’t.  Same as any other kind of people.

wat does council wombat feel in the story

I have no idea what this means. I just think it has a lovely dadaist quality to it somehow.


By

We notice

“Did you enjoy Rule 34?” my husband asked when he saw it on the kitchen table.  I’d been unpacking from a holiday for which that book had been my main reading material.

“I’m only halfway through it, but I am really enjoying it, yeah,” I said.

“Did you notice how all the characters are LGBT?” he asked.

I nodded.  “Well, I don’t know about all of them, but I’m only halfway through the book.  I did notice it right away about a couple of them, though.”

“I didn’t, until Stross said so on his blog.” *  Rule 34 is set in the near-future, and I really appreciated that he’d made a point of not making a big deal of the queers (though I was a little chagrined that he’d referred to a civil partnership as if his readers would assume that was a same-sex relationship, then all the more chagrined when I realized I’d immediately made that assumption myself! bad equal-marriage activist, no biscuit! still it’s the only time I can remember reading about a civil partnership referred to so casually in a piece of fiction; admittedly they haven’t been around very long, but still they’re just about novel enough that if they’re mentioned at all, it’s not in this deliciously offhand and normal way).

“I noticed,” I said.  “Especially because so many of them seem to be bi.”  (Behaviorally, if nothing else; none of the characters have labeled their sexuality as anything as far as I can remember.)  Yes, I notice that particularly…but these matter-of-fact representations of bisexuality are still so remarkable.

I notice these things.  We notice these things.  I wasn’t surprised when a commenter to this blog, Ste, said  I find myself thinking “yes, thank you”, whenever I hear or read someone refer to “same sex marriage”.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who recognizes that little flash of excitement, gratitude or relief when someone gets the language right.  Yes, maybe it shouldn’t be a big deal, but for now it still is.

Ste also noted that the BBC news had referred to it as both “gay” and “same-sex” and found it a little odd that the one station (radio 2) veered between using gay and same-sex. obviously, i was pleased when they called it same-sex marriage, but maybe it just goes to show that for some (many) people, the two are interchangeable. which sort of spoils the fact that they got it right at all, if they don’t understand the difference in the first place.

I think a lot of people. probably including those who wrote these BBC news snippets (or write about marriage equality for the Guardian or Channel 4 or any other news source), would be surprised if they knew how much their word-choice matters.  It’s not just a matter of accuracy and fairness, it’s about giving people that little moment of thankfulness and relief in being understood, in feeling someone’s “on our side” a bit if they say “same-sex” rather than “gay”…and how quickly that good feeling can be lost if these are treated as meaning the same thing, when they don’t.  Not to us, because we notice.

To those still getting it wrong, or getting it right only intermittently, I can only say: Take notice.  Because we sure do.

* From here: Yes, all the main protagonists in the book are LGBT, or are somewhere on the Kinsey scale other than a 1, with the exception of the Toymaker. Yes, I was trying to make a point. There are a lot of cliches in fictional depictions of LGBT folk (or, to be fully inclusive, QUILTBAG people). Cliche #1 is the novel with the single token gay protagonist whose sexuality, if it is visible at all (rather than merely being flagged by the author) is purely stereotypical and there to flag how open-minded and inclusive the author is. Cliche #2 is for the STGP to fill in for the magical negro, and come to a similar sticky end. Cliche #3 is the bisexual female who, after a night of passionate hetero sex, comes to see that she doesn’t feel attracted to women any more … well, fuck that shit. You will spot some of these cliches in “Rule 34″ as photographic negatives. “Rule 34″ is written from a perspective of queer normativity rather than closeted invisibility.


By

People have sexualities; relationships don’t

There’s a lot of talk about marriage lately.  The government making progress on implementing equality in civil marriage is, predictably, bringing a lot of homophobes out of the woodwork.  While some religious people and institutions are in favor of marriage equality, of course a lot aren’t too.

I’m not a religious person so I don’t feel qualified to talk about that (though I will say it’s unfair to ban religious groups from having anything to do with same-sex weddings, although this is starting to change now that civil partnership ceremonies are allowed in religious settings, but there’s still the “separate but not equal” issue to be sorted out, because marriage is currently only for mixed-sex couples and civil partnerships only for same-sex couples).

What I wanted to say, though, is that all this discussion has reminded me of one of my pet peeves.

A lot of people know this issue as “gay marriage,” and this sort of illustrates my problem; it’s not just about gay people.  Restrictions on who can currently get married have implications for bi and trans people too (a huge range of issues for trans folk, which I am not qualified to get into and which are outside the scope of this blog, but even what I know is, like so many things about dealing with legal recognition of anything other than happiness with the gender one was assigned at birth, intimidating, complex and unfair), and calling it “gay marriage” erases us and our unique issues.

But we’re used to that.  That happens every time people say “LGBT” to mean “gay.”  It happens when market stalls selling biphobic t-shirts and main-stage MCs making fun of bisexual people are part of a Pride festival that supposedly celebrations LGBT life.  It happens when that great LGB charity, Stonewall, answer the question  of whether civil partnerships should be extended to opposite-sex couples  with “This is a matter for heterosexual people and Stonewall would recommend consulting with them and stakeholder organisations representing them.”  This is bad enough.

Something else, though, bothers me about all this talk of “gay marriage” and “heterosexual civil partnerships” and “homosexual relationships” and “straight relationships.” I really dislike labeling relationships as straight or gay…or anything really.

For one thing, this contributes to bisexual erasure too.  When (say) a married male public figure is suspected of or discovered to be having an affair or some dodgy sex or whatever with another man, the press unfailingly reports this as a “gay encounter,” a “gay affair,” a “gay relationship.”  The man’s “straight” marriage is negated by this gayness.  (Now when the story is about cheating, we might be glad of the potential bi erasure, because we are — wrongly! — assumed to be incapable of fidelity quite often enough already, thank you very much.  But seriously, this kind of “straight until proven gay” rhetoric is no good for anyone, of any sexuality.)  I actually wrote about this in the now-defunct version of this blog, when a politician faced “gay rumors” that led to him feeling he had to justify his childless marriage by giving details of his wife’s miscarriages.  “The implicit reasoning,” I said, “goes something like ‘If Hague’s shagged this young man, that means he’s gay.  And if he’s gay, that means his marriage must be at best in tatters and at worst a lie all along.’”

This is just one of the ways that the labeling of relationships, rather than people, with a sexuality can, if carried to its logical conclusion, be very illogical indeed.  And needlessly unfair on lots of people.

Take, for instance, my non-bi different-gender partner.  We’re married.  Do we have a “straight marriage”?  I don’t like to think so; it rankles on me.  I already dislike how much I “pass” for straight, even as I take advantage of it to, for instance, not cause friction amidst my homophobic family.  But we certainly don’t have a “bi marriage”; that’d be unfair on him, give most people ideas of threesomes or group marriages, and anyway it just sounds ludicrous.  (I hear about gay marriages and straight marriages all the time, but bi marriage is something my brain trips over and has trouble parsing as a meaningful phrase.)

Again this is something where the tendency of bi people to be in relationships with people who aren’t bi goes ignored.  Most people, I’m sure, don’t think twice about saying “gay marriage” or “heterosexual relationship,” because it’s assumed that the sexual identity applies to both the people in it.

It’s not something I tend to bring up, because there are always bigger points to be made.  If someone is speaking in favor of “gay marriage,” does it benefit anyone for me to spikily insist that they say “same-sex marriage” or “equal marriage’ instead?  Possibly — I have said that a lot — but I pick my battles.  Mostly I’m happy that someone’s on the right side, and I don’t want to let the perfect be the enemy of the good.  Similarly, while I may (for example) feel vaguely disappointed when someone I know from bi contexts talks about the “lesbian sex” she’s having, because I don’t understand how it’s lesbian if she isn’t, I’m reluctant to get churlish about word-choice at a time when it’d be such a buzzkill.

But I do think about it.


By

Relationships with non-bis (or Do You Have an Ally-Bi?)

Like a lot of bi people in relationships, I’m in a relationship with someone of a different gender to my own.

Why are a lot of bi people in mixed-gender relationships?  This can make the whole bi activist thing seem a bit silly: if we’re so indistinguishable from straight people, why don’t we just shut up, right?

Because the relationships we’re in don’t dictate our identity — just as, for example, a gay person is still gay when they are single.  (Bisexuals in any kind of long-term relationships face a lot of this “you’re gay really”/”you’re straight really” nonsense, which I have never understood.)

Let’s say that 15% of the population are attracted to people of similar genders.  95% of the population are attracted to people of different genders.  (Yes this already adds up to more than 100% because some people are in both categories; otherwise there’d be no reason for this blog to exist! And it isn’t counting the proportion of people who are attracted to no one, and so on, who are not mentioned here because my list is not exhaustive as I am only using it to make a point to which gender and attraction are relevant.)

That means that even if I am the “50/50″ bisexual that some people think you have to be in order to label yourself with the B-word, even if I’m equally attracted to men and women, I (a woman) live in a world where a lot more men than women are likely to consider themselves capable of attraction to my gender.  Add to that the heteronormative societal pressures that benefit mixed-gender romance and sex (from marriage law to the ubiquity of cultural signals telling us how romance is supposed to work to having one less thing to get bullied about in school) and the fact that some bi people are just low Kinsey numbers anyway, and you’ve got a lot of bis in mixed-gender relationships.

And while some of the people we’re in those relationships with will also be attracted to more than one gender — whether they call themselves bi or pansexual or omnisexual or sapiosexual or heteroflexible or homoflexible or queer or “I can’t stand labeling myself at all” or whatever — a lot won’t be.  The majority of people who are attracted to genders different from theirs are only attracted to genders different from theirs (or as they might be more likely to put it, “the opposite sex”).  They’re straight.  A lot of them have never thought about there being more than two, or about the difference between sex and gender.

I didn’t know or think much about sexual or gender minorities for a long time, because I thought I was straight, and I am cis (not trans, i.e. experiencing no distress based on the gender I’ve been presumed to have since birth), and those things mean you don’t have to think about this stuff because you’re the default; you’re what’s considered “normal,” you’re what you see in ads and TV shows and anniversary cards in the Hallmark store and everything, you’re probably not going to get awkward questions or weird looks based on your sexual or gender identity.

But it’s an odd thing. If you’re gay or lesbian or straight,  you’re probably used to having romantic/sexual partners who are that too.  Makes sense, right?  But if you’re bi, you can have partners who are any of those things…as well as bi of course. And thus of course not every lesbian, straight or gay person will have a partner who is what they are, but I think it’s assumed that they would, to the extent that in many contexts people remark on a non-bi person who they learn is dating/married to/etc a bi person.  Especially if the non-bi person’s straight; in my experience, lesbian and gay people are much more likely than straight people to have developed strong opinions about bisexuals and bisexuality.  Even though we’ve already demonstrated that a bi person is more likely (all else being equal; of course they may particularly seek out people of similar genders for whatever reason) to end up with a straight person.

And this is what I have done.  And because he’s a straight cis person, he feels that he doesn’t have anything personally to do with “LGBT” stuff.  He’s extremely aware of the issues and supportive of his friends who are members of sexual or gender minorities…but I think it’s partly for this reason that he is wary of joining in.   “I don’t want to encroach on your spaces with my straight maleness” is something we both know he says tongue-in-cheek, meaning “I don’t fancy going to the pub with you for a bi social” or “I can’t be bothered to march in the Pride parade where you’re marching with the political party we’re both members of.”  Bi-friendly partners, friends and allies are explicitly welcome at all the bi events I ask him go along to, and having straight cis people politically supporting the rights of sexual and gender minorities sends a great message — but also I totally respect his right not to be around crowds, which he finds stressful, or just to make his own choices about what he wants to do.  He has his own activism and leads a busy life as it is.

While he’s supportive, respectful and kind towards people regardless of whether they share his straight or cis status, he doesn’t feel like my bi stuff and LGBT stuff is about him.  And that’s fair enough, certainly understandable, but it is a little weird for me.   I share so much with him.  And while he certainly listens sympathetically to my woes (annoying e-mails regarding LGBT political activism or the paper cut I suffered while helping get an issue of Bi Community News into envelopes and off to a postbox; it’s a glamorous life, activism), there’s always a sense that it’s separate.

It’s nothing personal, this isn’t about a flaw in me or my partner; indeed I’m sure this is how it is for a multitude of relationships that comprise one person who only fancies one gender and another who fancies more than one.  But it’s not something I remember ever reading about, so I thought I might write about it.


By

Here’s how easy bi-inclusion is

Catholic doctors offer homeopathic ‘treatment’ for homosexuality went a headline I read on Twitter this morning.

It’s a very Twitter-friendly phrase (not least because the article it links to is nine months old and I’ve not seen this mentioned on Twitter), almost asking for sarcasm and jokes from people who only have to think either that homosexuality is fine or homeopathy is evil.

If only all “treatments” for queerness were as harmless as water! I thought, but I’m glad I didn’t say so, because of course when you read the article it turns out that this homeopathic treatment is “controversial in itself… using high concentrations of substances like platinum.”

All the more grim and sad because of course like all other horrifying “aversion therapy” it isn’t even going to have the advertised result; in so many ways, homeopathic “cures” for same-sex attraction are based on ideology, not science. Wanting it to be true doesn’t make it so.

Apart from that, what struck me about this article is how easily and effectively bi-inclusive it is. The Lesbian & Gay Federation of Germany said this “treatment” is “lacking respect for homosexual and bisexual people.” A couple paragraphs later they’re quoted as saying these offers of supposed help from the Catholic Physicians in Germany are dangerous because “they exploit the insecurities of homo- and bisexual young people and their parents.”

Of course the word-choice isn’t exactly the same as I’d expect, but that is what I’d expect in something originally said or written in another language.*

As with the play the other day, the strength of the effect it had on me to see such matter-of-fact instances of the word “bisexual” is evidence of how unusual it is.

And not just used in a “find and replace” kind of way.** I kind of like that “homo-” is shortened to be tacked onto the full word “bisexual” there, even if an unintentional function of the translation or something, it makes me think of the distinct problems that would affect bi people who, if surrounded by the kind of homophobia or biphobia (internal or external) that leads to seeking such “treatment,” face a unique set of challenges like having to hear “you do know how to be attracted to the opposite sex [sic***], why don’t you just do that?”

By specifically including the word “bisexual” — twice! in a short article! — these quotes led me to consider this particular plight of bi people in this situation (which is not better or worse than that of gay people, but different) and also made me feel included as a part of the community facing the issues being written about. All of this is to the good.

And it’s so easy to do, people. I’ve written 800 words so far just to tell you about the benefit of four little words — “and bisexual” twice — in a random short article that was called to my attention for entirely different reasons.

So yes. Do this. If it’s appropriate; if you actually mean “and bisexual people too, yes.” Hell even just thinking does this thing I’m about to attribute to “gay,” “lesbian” or “homosexual” people apply to bi people too? would be pretty awesome in my book, even if you then decide that it doesn’t apply and there’s no outward evidence that they’ve thought this thought. As a bi person reading about “gay” or “LGBT” things, my standards can be pretty low! Because even with them, I am still so often disappointed.

Don’t keep disappointing me. Please think about what you’re saying, and how you can contribute to bi inclusion rather than bi erasure.

* I’ve also been told that “homosexual” is not a good term because it was coined in a medical context that problematized same-gender attraction; it wasn’t a word used by the people with that attraction to describe themselves… and since this led me to notice it more, I’ve realized how often “homosexual” is used in the UK and U.S. (and possibly other anglophone places, but these are the ones to which I pay most attention) by people who are complaining about those uppity queers wanting to be treated like real people. For instance, I immediately thought of the anti-equality comments made by a Tory MP a couple of weeks ago, e.g.: “In my view Civil Partnerships has already made great strides for homosexual rights.” And in googling to find this story again, I found that searching for “homosexual” instead of “gay” (even though Google includes both words in its results even if you only search for one) brought up many more results about the “intolerance” and ‘backlash,” proving again that “homosexual” isn’t a word used as much by gay and lesbian people as by their opponents.

** Bi friends of mine and I have long recognized the trope of Stonewall, when we finally pestered them enough (we had postcards that said “Some people are bi, get over it” and sent lots and lots of them to Ben Summerskill), seemingly going through their new publications to replace, e.g., “lesbians” with “lesbian and bisexual women.” Bis never seem to be considered separately; statistics and generalizations are split up by gender (and of course assuming only the two genders causes all kinds of problems of its own that we can’t expect the country’s leading queer charity to deal with!), if at all.

*** Of course I think “gender” is the appropriate word to use here, and that “opposite” supports the incorrect assumption that there are only two, but people who talk like this are unlikely to be so considerate of that.


By

Here’s how easy bi-inclusion is

Catholic doctors offer homeopathic ‘treatment’ for homosexuality went a headline I read on Twitter this morning.

It’s a very Twitter-friendly phrase (not least because the article it links to is nine months old and I’ve not seen this mentioned on Twitter), almost asking for sarcasm and jokes from people who only have to think either that homosexuality is fine or homeopathy is evil.

If only all “treatments” for queerness were as harmless as water! I thought, but I’m glad I didn’t say so, because of course when you read the article it turns out that this homeopathic treatment is “controversial in itself… using high concentrations of substances like platinum.”

All the more grim and sad because of course like all other horrifying “aversion therapy” it isn’t even going to have the advertised result; in so many ways, homeopathic “cures” for same-sex attraction are based on ideology, not science. Wanting it to be true doesn’t make it so.

Apart from that, what struck me about this article is how easily and effectively bi-inclusive it is. The Lesbian & Gay Federation of Germany said this “treatment” is “lacking respect for homosexual and bisexual people.” A couple paragraphs later they’re quoted as saying these offers of supposed help from the Catholic Physicians in Germany are dangerous because “they exploit the insecurities of homo- and bisexual young people and their parents.”

Of course the word-choice isn’t exactly the same as I’d expect, but that is what I’d expect in something originally said or written in another language.*

As with the play the other day, the strength of the effect it had on me to see such matter-of-fact instances of the word “bisexual” is evidence of how unusual it is.

And not just used in a “find and replace” kind of way.** I kind of like that “homo-” is shortened to be tacked onto the full word “bisexual” there, even if an unintentional function of the translation or something, it makes me think of the distinct problems that would affect bi people who, if surrounded by the kind of homophobia or biphobia (internal or external) that leads to seeking such “treatment,” face a unique set of challenges like having to hear “you do know how to be attracted to the opposite sex [sic***], why don’t you just do that?”

By specifically including the word “bisexual” — twice! in a short article! — these quotes led me to consider this particular plight of bi people in this situation (which is not better or worse than that of gay people, but different) and also made me feel included as a part of the community facing the issues being written about. All of this is to the good.

And it’s so easy to do, people. I’ve written 800 words so far just to tell you about the benefit of four little words — “and bisexual” twice — in a random short article that was called to my attention for entirely different reasons.

So yes. Do this. If it’s appropriate; if you actually mean “and bisexual people too, yes.” Hell even just thinking does this thing I’m about to attribute to “gay,” “lesbian” or “homosexual” people apply to bi people too? would be pretty awesome in my book, even if you then decide that it doesn’t apply and there’s no outward evidence that they’ve thought this thought. As a bi person reading about “gay” or “LGBT” things, my standards can be pretty low! Because even with them, I am still so often disappointed.

Don’t keep disappointing me. Please think about what you’re saying, and how you can contribute to bi inclusion rather than bi erasure.

* I’ve also been told that “homosexual” is not a good term because it was coined in a medical context that problematized same-gender attraction; it wasn’t a word used by the people with that attraction to describe themselves… and since this led me to notice it more, I’ve realized how often “homosexual” is used in the UK and U.S. (and possibly other anglophone places, but these are the ones to which I pay most attention) by people who are complaining about those uppity queers wanting to be treated like real people. For instance, I immediately thought of the anti-equality comments made by a Tory MP a couple of weeks ago, e.g.: “In my view Civil Partnerships has already made great strides for homosexual rights.” And in googling to find this story again, I found that searching for “homosexual” instead of “gay” (even though Google includes both words in its results even if you only search for one) brought up many more results about the “intolerance” and ‘backlash,” proving again that “homosexual” isn’t a word used as much by gay and lesbian people as by their opponents.

** Bi friends of mine and I have long recognized the trope of Stonewall, when we finally pestered them enough (we had postcards that said “Some people are bi, get over it” and sent lots and lots of them to Ben Summerskill), seemingly going through their new publications to replace, e.g., “lesbians” with “lesbian and bisexual women.” Bis never seem to be considered separately; statistics and generalizations are split up by gender (and of course assuming only the two genders causes all kinds of problems of its own that we can’t expect the country’s leading queer charity to deal with!), if at all.

*** Of course I think “gender” is the appropriate word to use here, and that “opposite” supports the incorrect assumption that there are only two, but people who talk like this are unlikely to be so considerate of that.