At the beginning of his essay “Stones in my Pockets, Stones in my Heart,” Eli Clare writes, “Gender reaches into disability; disability wraps around class; class strains against abuse; abuse snarls into sexuality; sexuality folds on top of race… everything finally piling into a single human body.” Here, he sums up all the different facets of himself that not only make up his body but make up his identity, who he is as a person. I feel this passage highlights how aspects of everything Clare has been writing about in his book can extend not only to him, but to people in general, as he refers to “a single human body,” not specifically “my body,” leaving room for commonality. But there is also room to not see aspects of yourself in the minority groups he is referencing, as this phrase also implies that he is simultaneously not referring to everyone. So while we may be able to see parts of ourselves in the groups Clare discusses, we may not see all of them, and that’s okay.
This theme of open possibilities extends to Eve Sedgewick’s Queer and Now, where much of Clare’s sentiments seem to be echoed. She emphasizes that queer people should talk about themselves in the first person, leaving room for individual identities to flourish but also to be able to find commonalities with your fellow human without the pressure of feeling like you must find these commonalities. These two texts highlight how important it is to find your own identity and individuality, welcoming and embracing all the facets of ourselves that make us who we are. They also encourage people to share their lives with others, to tell all the stories of their experiences—the good, the bad, and everything in between. They also encourage, through our stories, for us to find and build communities rather than push people out because we don’t exactly align with them. Most importantly, they emphasize that it is okay to not be like everyone else, and that other people should see your uniqueness as okay and accept it and you for who you are.
~written by SilverFlute
Dear SilverFlute,
I would like to take a step back and set aside my “rage staff” for a moment, a staff which I often carry not because I want to carry it but because I feel like someone has to be the voice of wrath, and talk about how much I truly appreciate the work that Claire and Sedgewick do here.
Queer love is a powerful thing. Beyond sexual love, which is both a fun and important part of the queer community, queer self-love is fucking awesome.
It’s a fucking pain in the ass to be trans. I’ve spent so much of my life not living it and it’s a shit ton of work just to keep myself from crying when I see myself in the mirror.
Claire tells us that it’s okay that it doesn’t always rock to be trans, that we can be where we need to be on the mountain, and that it’s fine to descend the mountain. So many people shove all these stories of queer joy down our throats, making us feel like we have to be perfect paragons and fucking pretty rainbows all the time. That’s not the reality of being queer.
Yours at a Pizza Party,
Carmine “Red” Zingiber