This chant is a classic—the classic, really, when it comes to LGBTQ rights. It came to mind as I’ve been grappling with Sedgwick’s assertion that “there are important senses in which ‘queer can signify only when attached to the first person’” (9). Upon first read I was dubious: after all, don’t we as community members strive to “queer” spaces all the time? Spaces cannot self-identify and thus rely on us as third parties to prescribe them identities (already, an important use of queer that does not use the first person.) Another issue: wouldn’t queer individuals want to be recognized and described as queer by others, who would then not be using queer in the third person? It felt to me as though the ability to call oneself queer was simply a use, and that to even begin to construct a hierarchy of queer’s best uses was to undermine and trivialize the word.
Then, I started to really reflect on the significance of the self-identification in this chant. Although not exactly in the first person, the singular of “we” is “I” in the same way that the singular for “they” might be “he” or “she.” So if a singular queer person was to hold up a sign in protest, ze might shout “I’m here, I’m queer.” This is the two-fold assertion that yes, I am actually physically standing here and yes, I am different from you. For a queer person to say this is for zem is reject the systemic erasure that commonly refuses zem name or recognition. Another person, on the other hand, cannot bestow the title of “queer” upon someone else. To call someone “queer” before that individual has first called zirself queer is dangerous “because of the violently different connotative evaluations that seem to cluster around the category” (9). The word “queer” is so rooted in strangeness and violence and hate that it is always an act of reclamation in the first person and always a potential thread in any other tense. I now feel much more amenable to the idea that “anyone’s use of ‘queer’ about themselves means differently from their use of it about someone else,” and that the use of the first person is significant (9). I ultimately contest Sedgwick because I think there are other worthwhile uses of the word, some of which I mention above. I just now see the “important sense” embedded in the first person, and it is amazing for someone who identifies as queer to understand the power in my language.
Having heard the phrase, “We’re here! We’re queer!” multiple times, it is interesting to think about it in a new way. Thank you for that! A possible nuance would be to consider why the chant includes “we” instead of “I.” Although we is form of I, “we” insinuates a shared queerness, while “I” connotes an individually defined queerness. Although, according to Sedgwick, queerness is defined by the first person, there is still a sense of collective identity when groups use the phrase, “We’re here! We’re queer!” instead of “I’m here! I’m queer!” Where does one draw the line in self-identification of queer, if they should at all? I think that a shared identity of queer helps foster a community, but how does that affect our notions of the word?
I agree that there are other uses for the term Queer. The concept of queer to me, too, is something that I am learning to fully understand. Meaning I once thought it in terms of just LGBT but I feel like there is more to it. I think I am queer because I am different from the norm. I date a much older man. Who has kids. Who was once married. My friends think I am insane and I get a lot of ridicule for it. But why do I have to? I am happy. So yes, it is unconventional but I’m here. And I’m Happy. Maybe I am just in a queer space and time but I am not ashamed of my version of queer. I think you are right in saying that everyone has their own sense of what queer is, no one more right than then other.
I think the idea of queerness as a verb is very interesting and powerful. Queering of a space is for us, as a community, to take a space and declare safe for people like us when spaces have so often excluded. You can also queer pop culture, analyzing a pop culture text and determining that even though everyone assumes an exchange or a relationship is straight, to challenge that and say it’s queer. Queering pop culture also usually warrants an aggressive and dismissive response from straight people which I think speaks miles about how they view queer people and affirms why pop culture needs to be more queer and needs more queer interpretations. Sedgwick talks a little bit about using queer as a verb on page 9, just in case you wanted to give it a glance. Also, just as a clarification, not to be shady but the object form of ze is hir, ergo hir, hir’s, and hirself.
I think you touched on a really interesting point regarding the adaptability of language. Words that were originally the “established” way of calling something are later found to be insulting and are thus discarded. The word “stupid,” for example, used to be an acceptable way of referring to people with a mental handicap who had the intelligence of a five-year-old. The word “stupid” became so commonplace that it was insulting to continue to employ it to refer to people who fit this medical description (for lack of a better phrase). The word “queer” is particularly interesting because it appears to have lapped itself, in the way that you highlighted. The word “queer” is, unfortunately, still intentionally used in a highly derogatory manner among those who, frankly, hate queerness. However, even within the queer community the word has questionable connotations, as you highlighted, where it unintentionally, or maybe not, compels people under the “queer umbrella” to conform to certain ideals and identities. This is a really great way to question the kinds of language we use and the connotations it may have.