Tulips 2020

cover art: Reilly Knowles

Tulips 2019/2020 Edition

Women's Studies & Feminist Research Undergraduate Journal

Tulips

Women’s Studies & Feminist

Research Undergraduate Journal

2019/2020

Produced by

The Women’s Studies Student Collective

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Our Editing Team

Editors-in-Chief

Julia Martins & Nidhi Marulappa

Layout & Design Julia Martins

Editors

Yasmin Ahmed, Reese Carr, Sandler Gordon,

Nicole Di Giuseppe, Macaulay Davison, Sierra Joseph

Cover Art Reilly Knowles

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Contents Letter from the editiors | 5 The Sterilization of Indigenous Identity | 6 Maya Ghai A Critical Analysis of Looking Behind the Stereotypes of the “Angry Black Woman” - An Exploration of Black Women’s Responses to Interracial Relationships | 9 Giselle Hinds The Greatest Lie I Ever Wrote, and Why I Will Never Write it Again | 12 Callie Whalen The Lady Discourse in Gothic Young Adult Novels and Girls’ Academies | 16 Reilly Knowles “Meat is King” and Other Fallacies | 20 Jenna Gade The Hierarchal Valuation of Sex Acts: Analyzing Rape Fantasy and Play in the Context of Sadomasochism | 24 Nicole Di Giuseppe

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Contents Queer and Disabled Bodies: The (In)visible Disruption of Normalcy | 28 Nidhi Marulappa The Art of Masking Colonialism | 31 Madison Osborne A Critical Media Analysis on Vaginal Rejuvenation: Problematizing medicalization of the aesthetics of the female genitalia | 38 Kayla. A. Benjamin Mis/Readings and the Making of Good/Bad Trans Citizens | 41 Reese Carr Who Protects Black Girls?

An Intersectional Analysis of Racialized Victimization and Gaslighting Utilizing the cases of R Kelly, Bill Cosby and the discourse of Public Lynching | 47 Yasmin Ahmed

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Letter From the Editors

It is with immense pleasure that we present to readers the 2020 edition of the Tulips Journal, which includes many amazing papers from our very own Women’s Studies and Feminist Research (WSFR) students at Western University. Upon reading this year’s submissions, what struck us most was the passion that we imagine went into writing many of these essays. The essays we have included in this years journal are ones which may ignite new ways of thinking and exhibt the passion of WSFR students. These papers which focus on the topics of gender and/or sexuality are enlightening, and we hope readers enjoy them. This year’s edition demonstrates the talents and the wide variety of subjects which our amazing WSFR students are passionate about.

With regards to the structure of the journal, it is important to note that papers are consecutively ordered beginning with first-year course papers, eventually progressing to fourth-year course papers. This year’s edition covers a variety of topics which are investigated using multiple theories including feminist theory, critical race theory, and queer theory to name a few. We are very happy to announce a returning author, Reese Carr, who has written the paper “Mis/Readings and the Making of Good/Bad Trans Citizens”, investigating the ways in which discursive power produces subjects and shapes dominant cultural discourses. We would like to extend a huge thank you to our new upper-year contributors this year, Yasmin Ahmed, Reese Carr, and Maddison Osborne for their spectacular contributions. We are also extremely grateful for the wonderful contributions by first-year and second-year authors, and hope that you will continue to be involved with Tulips in your future years at Western!

Finally, a heartfelt thank you goes out to the Tulips Committee and the Women’s Studies Student Collective (WSSC) at Western University for their help during the selection process. Additionally, absolutely none of this would have been possible without the WSSC co-presidents who have been a huge part of this whole process. We had a very large number of excellent submissions this year, and this would not have been possible without any of the people mentioned above.

We hope you enjoy this year’s edition, and encourage you to continue to read future editions as well!

Nidhi Marulappa and Julia Martins

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The Sterilization of Indigenous Identity Maya Ghai

The coerced sterilization of Indigenous women presents a dark chapter in Canada’s colonial history. While the majority of sterilizations occurred in the 20th century, the practice of uninformed sterilization is still occurring, with cases as recent as 2018 (Zingel, 2019). Forced sterilization is any process that interferes with an individual’s reproductive abilities without their informed consent that is free of coercion, miscommunication, or incentive (Sterilization of Women and Girls, 2011). While forced sterilization is an obvious means of controlling the reproduction and bodily autonomy of women, it must also be historically recognized as a means of subverting Indigenous communities for racist, sexist, and capitalist reasons. Thus, when analyzing the history of forced sterilization in Canada we must consider the axes of gender, ethnicity, and socioeconomic status, because arguments for sterilization ultimately depended on the intersection of these identities that historically placed Indigenous women in a vulnerable and susceptible position. Finally, intersectionality can change our contemporary understandings of sterilization practices in Canada when considering the definitions of cultural genocide and its current implications on the indigenous community. I will primarily engage with Karen Stote’s The Coercive Sterilization (2012) to analyze this issue.

It must be noted that sterilization practices disproportionately affect Indigenous women and can therefore be analyzed using a post-colonial lens. According to the National Inquiry into Missing and Indigenous Women (2019), “in addition to trying to assimilate First Nations through residential schools, governments also took other active measures to eliminate them physically” (p. 266). Eugenic policies to prevent the propagation of “undesirable” members of society were justified by legislature under the umbrella of the Indian Act. At one point, the proportion of Indigenous women sterilized reached 25%, even though Indigenous women statistically represented one of the smallest racial demographics (Stote, 2012). It becomes clear that the Canadian government used sterilization as a means of reducing Indigenous populations, for racist, imperialist, and even Eurocentric reasons (Stote, 2012). Without formal definitions on who could be sterilized, legislation could use sterilization as a vehicle to advance neo-colonial policies, which were predicated on the elimination of the Indigenous race.

Intersectionality considers discrimination against gender and ethnicity as joint forces. The imposition of colonial policies and requisition of Aboriginal resources was facilitated through the general subjection of Aboriginal women (Stote, 2012). Extensions of the Indian Act have compromised the sovereignty of Indigenous communities, and in the case of sterilization, the sovereignty of women over their bodily choices. Thus, sterilization practices in Canada implicated multiple dimensions of identity for Indigenous women, who faced intersectional discrimination regarding both their race and biology.

While men also experienced sterilization (Stote, 2012), these cases are significantly

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rarer. The targeting of Indigenous women primarily occurred because women were viewed as “the mother of the race” (p. 119), and hence, were recognized as a means to eradicate an “undesirable” race under eugenic policy. In the case of post-colonial Canada, this obviously manifested as an attempt to eliminate indigeneity.

Besides the intersection of race and gender, sterilization was used as a means of subverting sexuality. Even elementary feminist movements in Canada constructed notions of desirable femininity. Indigenous women were viewed as “savages,” “depraved,” [and] of “loose moral character,” (Stote, 2012, p. 119) and therefore did not fall within the popular parameters of womanhood. As a result, the sexuality of Indigenous women was heavily policed, a form of control that eventually gave way to the physical use of sterilization. Indigenous women were perceived to be divergent from mainstream ideals of sexuality and race, demonstrating just one example of interacting forces of discrimination.

In the larger capitalist structure, government officials saw sterilization as a means of eliminating poverty and healthcare costs of lower economic echelons. Stote (2012) makes the argument that “impoverished and marginalized women and their children, who were often forced to rely on state aid or private charity, came to be viewed as a costly burden.

They were also blamed for perpetuating social problems in society” (p. 119). It should be noted that Stote refers to impoverished women, rather than men, demonstrating the targeting of female reproduction by capitalist systems.

However, the economic conditions that plagued many Indigenous communities, such as poverty, illness, and poor health, are just one of the by-products of colonial expansion. It is impossible to consider the socioeconomic status of Indigenous members without acknowledging the colonial contexts that entrenched the initial economic marginalization of these groups.

Sterilization was performed under the false assumption that the circumstances surrounding poverty were biologically and racially ascribed, instead of generated by inherent faults in capitalism and wealth distribution (Stote, 2012). Hence, discrimination occurred on multiple levels of identity, as general society perceived an essentialist interaction between status, biology, and gender. The economic-subordination of Indigenous peoples must be taken into account when considering intersectionality. The notion that poverty was a result of indigeneity and could be alleviated by preventing the propagation of Indigenous peoples was a chief argument for eugenics and sterilization. Women were sterilized on the basis of their combined gender, ethnicity, and socioeconomic status, undoubtedly making these practices an intersectional issue.

Considering intersectionality can position the history of sterilization within the larger framework of genocide. Stote (2012) claims that “it is this context that leads some to argue that this practice amounts to genocide” (p. 140). Article II of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide defines genocide as “acts committed with intent to destroy a national, ethnical, racial or religious group”, which can occur through “imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group” (UN General

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Assembly, 1948). Without considering intersectionality, we fail to acknowledge the deliberate use of sterilization as a means of eliminating Indigenous identity. Indigenous women were systematically attacked based on the elimination of their race and ethnicity, a condition that constitutes genocide under international law.

Conclusion It is necessary to consider the intersectionality of sterilization practices in Canada in both historical and contemporary contexts. Indigenous women experienced restrictions on their autonomy due to their combined gender, race, and socioeconomic status, which were seen as deviant from mainstream norms. Furthermore, these forms of discrimination did not act in isolation; rather, they overlapped in such a way that targeted Indigenous women, emphasizing the role of intersectionality. Current understandings of the issue can be altered when considering the broader definition of genocide, which acknowledges that the sterilization of women was a systematic attack against the larger Indigenous population for sexist, racist and capitalist reasons. Ultimately, acknowledging the network of discrimination Indigenous women faced, and may still face today, is imperative to fully understand the history of sterilization in Canada. It is only through an intersectional approach that we can realize the full extent of injustice.

References Forced Sterilization. (2019). Reclaiming Power and Place : Final Report of the National

Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 1a, 266–267.

Retrieved from https://www.mmiwg-ffada.ca/final-report/ Sterilization of Women and Girls with Disabilities. (2011, November 10). Retrieved from https://www.hrw.org/news/2011/11/10/sterilization-women-and-girls-disabilities.

Stote, K. (2012). The Coercive Sterilization of Aboriginal Women in Canada. American

Indian Culture and Research Journal, 36(3), 117–150 UN General Assembly, Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of

Genocide December 9, 1948, United Nations, Treaty Series, vol. 78, pg. 277, Re

trieved from https://www.refworld.org/docid/3ae6b3ac0.html Zingel, A. (2019, April 18). Indigenous women come forward with accounts of forced

sterilization, says lawyer. Retrieved from https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/north/ forced-sterilization-lawsuit-could-expand-1.5102981.

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A Critical Analysis of Looking Behind the Stereotypes of the “Angry Black Woman” - An Exploration of Black Women’s Responses to Interracial Relationships Giselle Hinds

Looking Behind the Stereotypes of the “Angry Black Woman”by Erica Chito Childs (2005), attempts to disrupt common societal perceptions of black women. The stereotypes projected onto Black women portraying them as angry, anti-revolutionary, or problematic are challenged as Chito Childs seeks to give a voice to this silenced party. Through focus group interviews with Black college women, and in-depth interviews with Black women who are in interracial marriages, the author explores preconceived notions that Black women’s opposition to interracial relationships are solely based upon jealousy or prejudice. Rather, findings allude that it is a problem of white racism, Black internalization of racism, and what interracial relationships represent to Black women and signify about Black women’s worth (Chito Childs, 545).

Institutionalized slavery has played a monumental role in instilling power dynamics and racial hierarchies between white and black communities. This article illustrates how, during institutionalized slavery, the sexual exploitation of Black women by white men was widely accepted. The origins of these interracial relationships allow Chito Childs (2005) to illustrate a brief understanding of the complicated history between Black-white unions.

These complicated interactions have lasting turmoil that still affects modern-day interactions. Recognizing the manipulation and abuse of Black women by white men establishes a better understanding of Black women’s hostility and hesitation towards interracial relationships for modern-day. Through analysis of Chito Childs’ historical significance, there is a definitive need for her work in understanding the ingrained hostility.

The approach of Chito Childs’ work draws on two data sources: focus group interviews with selected Black student organizations on three college campuses, and separate in-depth interviews with Black women married to white men. This approach aimed to illustrate the complexities of Black women’s views and further the understanding of college women’s perspectives (Chito Childs, 548). A definitive consensus of problematic interracial relationships was a common thread among her interview respondents. As this addresses Chito Childs’ thesis, the reasoning behind the women’s consensus in which she highlighted that not only solidified her thesis but differentiated her work as a whole. Addressed in their responses, as well as my own personal experience, when Black men try to validate their interracial relationships, they often try to blame it on a plethora of Black women stereotypes. Within the article, one of the women described how “there’s this perception of black women as more confrontational, too much trouble, which is coupled with

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with the idea that white girls are easy to control” (Chito Childs, 552).

These statements were a great opportunity to discuss the implications of these stereotypes on Black women’s mental health. However, Chito Childs (2005) failed to expand on this. Expanding on the issue of black women’s mental health would push forward her literature, by breaking away from the systematic cycle of brushing Black women’s mental health “under the rug”. Addressing mental health issues is important in finding effective interventions, as there is an undeniable gap in the literature regarding the mental health of Black women, and their unique experiences within a white supremacist society.

Chito Childs (2005) begins to demonstrate a new perspective often overlooked in mass media. She shines the light on how media uses harmful stereotypes of black women as a scapegoat for confronting the issues of racism and sexism that they profit off of. Her work makes reference to the implication of modern-day mass media culture in perpetuating the “angry black women” stereotype. She provides an effective piece of evidence from a movie, where black women are pictured discussing white women stating, “low class white trash white women who throw themselves at African American men” (Chito Childs, 548).

Appreciative of her example, Chito Childs found effective evidence in how mass media culture illustrates black women as aggressors and bullies. Associating Black women as these negative titles result in a society that isolates Black women in many aspects of life.

The juxtaposition of the “angry black woman” stereotype alongside the “strong black woman” title, often masks Black women’s deteriorating self-image and inability to seek sufficient mental health resources. From personal experience, I’ve seen many strong Black women in my life suffer in silence in order to uphold the belief that Black women always have to be strong. In referencing works such as Behind the Mask of the Strong Black Woman by Tamara Beauboeuf-Lafontant (2011), Chito Childs’ work would have been supplemented by Beauboeuf-Lafontant’s analysis. Beauboeuf-Lafontant discusses the ways that black women conceal their oppression and concede to dominant forms of discourse that depict this group of women as “pillars of strength” despite their exploitation and objectification as not fully human (Beauboeuf-Lafontant, 539). The concept of not being addressed as fully human directly correlates with our in-class discussions on the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights. Article 1 of the Declaration indicates, “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.” (UN General Assembly art, 1). However, Black women face discrimination not only based on race but on gender as well, which diminishes the essence of equality.

One of the takeaways Chito Childs (2005) drew from her interviews is Black women’s concerns about whether there will be a Black man to raise a family because of the shortage of Black men. In addressing these concerns, Chito Childs uses the term ‘available “good” black men’. The ways in which Chito Childs uses the term desensitizes why available Black men are so important to Black women. Chito Childs fails to address and expand on how structural issues systematically affecting Black men - incarceration, drug abuse, and homicide - deeply affect Black women. She attributed the lack of ‘available “good” black men’ predominantly to large numbers of black men choosing white women.

This may stem from her own personal limitations as identifying as a white Portuguese woman. Chito Childs’ work fails to acknowledge other reasons as to why black women are concerned about the availability of black men in their life. Black men who are actively involved in Black women’s lives create support systems in a society where few support systems exist for Black women. Black men who engage in interracial relationships and do not maintain their commitment to their communities indirectly break down support systems for many Black women. Thus, Chito Childs’ biased suggestion that the availability of ‘“good” Black men’ is a result of large numbers of black men choosing to date white women, ignores a larger social issue at play. The lack of breadth of reasoning in her work leaves a huge gap in understanding the roots of the perceived anger of black women.

Chito Childs’ work would have benefitted from having a solidified conclusion or call to action. In understanding that a white woman conducted this research, I appreciated her not presenting a solution for Black women, rather giving them an outlet for their voice. However, Chito Childs could have overcome these limitations by referencing other findings to introduce practical solutions for how society should move forward and mend these tensions concerning interracial relationships.

Chito Childs’ (2005) work appeals to many black women on the preface of vocalizing issues that have been deeply internalized or silenced. Examining the diverse perspectives of Black college women and married women, across a wide age range, fosters a sense of community in terms of a common struggle. Creating literature that develops a sense of community among Black women begins to redefine what it means to be a Black woman and how we can effectively address interracial relationships. Chito Childs’ work invites society to bring all voices and all opinions into the discussion in working towards addressing the plight of racial and gender inequalities of our society, perpetuated through deteriorating stereotypes.

Works Cited Childs, Erica Chito.Gender & Society; Thousand Oaks Vol. 19, Iss. 4, (Aug 2005): 544-561.

Accessed 29 Jan. 2020.

Universal Declaration of Human Rights.” United Nations, 217 (III) A, 1948, Paris, art. 1,

http://www.un.org/en/universal-declaration-human-rights/. Accessed 29 Jan. 2020.

Wallace, Gail. “Behind the Mask of the Strong Black Woman.” Gender & Society., vol. 25,

no. 4, Sage Publications, Aug. 2011. Accessed 29 Jan. 2020.

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The Greatest Lie I Ever Wrote, and Why I Will Never Write it Again Callie Whalen

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“I am not trans” was the bold proclamation I made during my first year of university, as the title of my first ever university paper, and as the main argument. While my intentions were pure (I was trying to argue that my love of makeup and feminine things did not make me a woman and that men could love these things too), I was really out of touch with what I was truly feeling. During the weeks following my proud exclamation of identity, I increasingly became uncomfortable with being referred to as a man and the thought of being understood as a man by the people around made me feel upset and disoriented.

It dawned on me that my use of the name Callie instead of the name I had been given at birth might have been more than just an annoyance at others being unable to pronounce my name properly after reading it. So I started using they/them pronouns at school, and insisted that others see me as non-binary. But it did not start here, I did not just start feeling uncomfortable with masculinity and ‘manhood’, if you will, at 18 years old. That has been a lifelong struggle for me, but for the longest time it was better than being different.

I had grown to accept the inevitability of what had been assigned to me at birth, and for about 16 long years I was Callum. I was a man.

It all changed when I had stumbled across a little tv show at the tail end of Grade 10, at the end of my exams and probably when I needed it most. The show was, of course, Rupaul’s Drag Race and I was immediately enamoured with these people who could put on makeup and traditionally “girls” clothes and create absolutely incredible performances that blew my mind time and time again. I was instantly hooked, and knew that it was something I had to do. So, approximately eight months later, one of my closest friends and I went to Walmart and bought our first batch of makeup. What followed was over a year of makeup and lipsynchs for our lives with cheap clothes and even cheaper wigs. To this day, I am still incredibly grateful that I do not have many pictures from that time (I definitely did not look cute) but I still remember the happiness I felt as I put on makeup and brought the house down with Cher and Britney. It was because, in those moments, I was able to embrace femininity and perform womanhood in a way I had never thought possible previously (Egner and Maloney, 2016). In those moments, I could let go of Callum, my masculinity, and all the insecurities I held. I could shrug off the gender norms that I begrudgingly accepted and be comfortable in my femininity. I could look and act like a woman, therefore becoming a woman in my own right (Greaf, 2016). Through this idea of performativity, where gender is not something innate and something one is but rather one does, I began to challenge my own sense of identity (Butler, 1999). As I continued doing drag, my makeup was changing from typical drag style to a more ‘female’ look, in that my makeup began to match the makeup that women were doing online. I found that I liked

my look to be something that I thought was more ‘woman’ than drag queen, and the performativity became about the act of putting on makeup rather than a full on performance with lip synching and dancing. To achieve this, I began softening my contour, stopped gluing down my eyebrows, and stopped exaggerating my eye makeup. Over time, I wore ‘women’s’ clothing and stopped shopping in the men’s section entirely, despite identifying as a man. Doing drag had completely changed my sense of gender, and it was through drag that I was able to challenge the traditional views of gender that I myself held, and that those around me held as well (Egner and Maloney, 2016).

When I examine how much my life had begun to change, I often question why I was so resistant to the idea of being a transwoman myself. I have come to the conclusion that one contributing factor is that I came into my understanding of gender identity through drag, and drag culture is not kind to transwomen who do drag. Imp Queen’s interview with them. (2018) perfectly illustrates why I struggled with coming to terms with my identity. The article explains that to be recognized as a transwoman, often transwomen will distance themselves from drag to create a clear difference between what queens do and what they do (Alok, 2018). Imp Queen further elaborates that Rupaul’s Drag Race has created this idea of a drag queen solely being men out of drag but that this is a relatively new concept in the history of drag (Alok, 2018). I totally internalized this notion from the moment I started watching the show and when you take into account that I have been saying that I was not a woman since I was five years old, my mindset and confusion makes a lot of sense. I could not grasp the idea of being a woman because I thought of what I was doing as drag, not as an expression of my gender identity. But as I continued to wear makeup and presented in an extremely feminine way more and more, I began to challenge what I identified as and how I wanted to be perceived by those who were around me. But it was tough for me to let go of my own notions of trans identity and drag identity. When I did drag, I felt as though I could occupy femininity in a way that did not force me to give up my facade of masculinity, but when out of drag I did not understand how I could occupy femininity in the same way (Egner and Maloney, 2016). To be myself, I needed to let go of the masculinity I had tried so hard to mimic and cling to. Crawley argues that part of the operation of gender requires one to hold themselves accountable in either their masculinity and/or femininity (2008).

I really connected with Imp Queen’s comment on how our identity can be created on stage, but that does not make them any less real (Alok, 2018). I came to realize that Callie could be more than a wig and cheap clothes in a basement; it quickly became impossible for me to hold myself accountable in my masculinity. So I completely stopped trying (and failing) to present as male in any way and for a year identified as non-binary and used they/them pronouns, as I previously mentioned. But I also began to demasculinize my body, taking hormone blockers and then estrogen. But as I did this, people would refer to me with female pronouns and as a woman because my presentation was very feminine. The thing is, I was totally okay with this. Part of my identity is that I am not a man, and so if being mistaken for a woman meant I was not being viewed as a man, then I was

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more than okay with that. I had begun to use makeup and clothing to ‘pass’ as a woman.

‘Passing’ is the idea of someone who can be perceived as the gender they are emulating through clothing, speech, makeup, and behaviour (Greaf, 2016). I was able to have people read me as female because they have notions of femininity that I was displaying, such as having painted nails and wearing makeup, as well as wearing feminine clothing and having longer hair. This worked, in part, because the people around me understood what I was conveying through my presentation and this is a large part of how gender identity operates (Crawley, 2008). Gender is a performance of understood characteristics that society deems to be either masculine or feminine (Butler, 1999). As everyone around me understood me as feminine, I began to see myself in the same way. By doing ‘femaleness’ and ‘womanhood’ over and over again, I realized that I was in fact a woman. I have finally reached a place in my life where I am comfortable with who I am, and I am proud to be a transwoman.

As with anything, I have encountered new struggles that I did not necessarily worry about before I identified as a transwoman. How I construct my femininity and identity have become more and more about working within the confines of hegemonic understandings of gender so that I can be accepted as a woman with no chance of being misgendered as a man (Greaf, 2016). I shave my face nearly everyday now because I feel like if I have any facial hair at all I will be misgendered (take into consideration that most of the time the facial hair is not even visible, but I can feel it so I know it is there). I constantly work to feminize my body and despite feeling like I have to do this, I would argue that it is the result of my agency in our society. Transwomen have the ability to construct their identity by rejecting certain notions of femininity and embracing others, thus operating within the heavily gendered society that we exist in (Shrock et al., 2005). This is a form of agency, Shrock et al. argue, because transwomen have different options of how they chose to feminize their bodies (2005). Clothing, behaviour, surgery, and hormones all offer transwomen different ways to construct their bodies despite being within societal constraints of femininity (Shrock et al., 2005). I use both makeup and ‘female’ clothing to present myself to the world as a woman, but have also chosen to take hormones and plan to get bottom surgery done as well to further construct my body despite those two things not being as obvious to the outside world.

So hopefully it has become very clear that my first ever university paper was one giant lie. I screamed at the top of my lungs in the most academic way possible that I was not trans. Or a woman for that matter. As much as I wish I could have come to this conclusion sooner, I also recognize that my journey needed to happen the way it did for me to be where I am today. I will always have a love and appreciation for the artform that is drag, and while it messed with my sense of identity at first, it ultimately brought me to myself.

Drag allows for people to find themselves, just as it did for me. I now look to queens like Peppermint, Imp Queen, Jinkx Monsoon, and other trans and non-binary drag performers as sources of inspiration to continue on forward. I promise to be the proudest transwoman that I can be, and I promise to never, ever lie again.

Works Cited Alok. “Imp Queen and the Perpetually Problematic Erasure of Trans Drag Queens.”

Them., Them., 1 Oct. 2018, www.them.us/story/imp-queen-trans-drag-queens.

Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble. Routledge, 1999.

Crawley, SaraL. “The Clothes Make the Trans: Region and Geography in Experiences of

the Body.” Journal of Lesbian Studies, vol. 12, no. 4, Sept. 2008, pp. 365–379. EB

SCOhost, doi:10.1080/10894160802278242.

Egner, Justine, and Patricia Maloney. ““It Has No Color, It Has No Gender, It’s Gender

Bending”: Gender and Sexuality Fluidity and Subversiveness in Drag Performance.”

Journal of Homosexuality, vol. 63, no. 7, July 2016, pp. 875–903. EBSCOhost, doi:10 .1080/00918369.2015.1116345.

Greaf, Caitlin. “Drag Queens and Gender Identity.” Journal of Gender Studies, vol. 25, no.

6, Dec. 2016, pp. 655–665. EBSCOhost, doi:10.1080/09589236.2015.1087308 Schrock, Douglas, et al. “Transsexuals’ Embodiment of Womanhood.” Gender & Society,

vol. 19, no. 3, June 2005, pp. 317–335. EBSCOhost, doi:10.1177/0891243204273496.

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The Lady Discourse in Gothic Young Adult Novels and Girls’ Academies Reilly Knowles

The first gothic novel, Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto, is over two-hundred-and-fifty years old, yet the genre it inspired shows no sign of fading. The gothic novel has, on the contrary, fanned out into an assortment of sub-categories over the course of its long history, including gothic romance and gothic mystery. One of its latest (and extremely popular) variations is gothic young adult fiction, which notably tends to write teenage girls in its leading roles. The heroines of gothic novels have traditionally been defined by their heterosexual romantic relationships, hardly ever expanding outside their roles as wives and lovers. Yet discourses around gender have changed radically since Walpole’s day. Consequently, the female characters featured in gothic YA teeter on the tightrope between traditional and subversive femininities, attempting a precarious balance of eighteenth-century tropes and Girl Power.

This development is elucidated by Michelle J. Smith and Kristine Moruzi in their article Vampires and Witches Go to School: Contemporary Young Adult Fiction, Gender, and the Gothic (2018), in which they compare three novels: Vampire Academy (2007) by Richelle Mead, Evernight (2008) by Claudia Gray and Hex Hall (2010) by Rachel Hawkins. Each novel charts the adventures of teenage girls with supernatural powers as they attend boarding schools. While the books certainly exist in the realm of fantasy, their protagonists, despite being literal monsters, share striking similarities with the real-life girls described in Alexandra Jane Allan’s The Importance of Being a ‘Lady’: Hyper-Femininity and Heterosexuality in the Private, Single-Sex Primary School (2009). Allan’s ethnographic research is the culmination of two years’ time with twenty-five students at Taylor’s Girls’ School in England, and sheds light on the ways in which discourses around femininity and heterosexuality are enforced in the girls’ academy setting. In this paper, I argue that both gothic YA and the contemporary girls’ academy share an ancestor in the traditional girls’ boarding school, which accounts, at least in part, for their emphases on hegemonic discourses of femininity. The common lineage of gothic YA and girls’ academies demonstrates that the education system acts as a powerful tool for the enforcement of these discourses around gender and sexuality.

One of Allan’s major observations is that students in all-girls schools are subject to the ‘lady discourse,’ which is composed of “certain classed, gendered and sexualised expectations of respectability…” (Allan 150). An important element of the lady discourse is the discouragement of sexuality. For example, books containing sexual themes are censored, and girls are chaperoned at dances to prevent “unsightly behaviour” (154). The dominance of this sex-negative lady discourse, Allan posits, can be traced back to codes of etiquette from the eighteenth century (146). Such etiquette was prescribed and circulated

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in novels set inside idealised boarding schools, novels in which ‘outsider’ girls molded themselves into “popular conceptions of femininity and girlhood” within the academic institution (Smith and Moruzi 7). These books came to form the girls’ school story genre, with The Governess, or The Little Female Academy (1749) by Sarah Fielding as the inciting novel. It is no coincidence that the first girls’ school story, indeed, the first novel written for children, doubles as an etiquette manual. The lady discourse dwells at the root of the British academy system, and consequently the literature it precipitated. While social mores have undergone immense transformations since the 1700’s, the lady and her many sexual hang-ups remains an ever-haunting spectre in the schools of reality and fiction.

This can be observed in the school stories of the present day, gothic YA novels, in which the lady discourse presents itself less as overt, moralistic instruction and more as unnamed, insidious implication. In all three novels examined by Smith and Moruzi, the female protagonists’ romantic relationships either directly or indirectly put the girls and their schools in danger. Two of three crushes have villainous intentions, and the last acts as a distraction, allowing the antagonist to enter the school (13). This trend implies the girls’ sexualities are “potentially dangerous to [their] health and wellbeing” (13). Moreover, by threatening the safety of their schools, the protagonists’ sexualities are constructed in opposition to the academic institution (16). The stories’ anxieties around the girls’ sexualities indicates a genre-typical belief in the discordance between female heterosexual desire and the school institution, i.e. an acceptance (at least in part) of the lady discourse.

The presence of the lady discourse in both Taylor’s Girls’ School and all three fictitious academies is made more apparent by its conflict with modern discourses of femininity. In her findings, Allan describes her research subjects’ internalised discourses around ladyship as being in constant battle with the “‘post-feminist’ demands of heterosexualised hyper-femininity (the need for girls to be sassy, sexy and successful)” (Allan 147). The students are pulled in multiple directions as they attempt to define their identities, resulting in a composite of femininities emblematic of the conflicted modern age. The incongruence of these different discourses brings each one into sharp relief. At the same time, gothic YA’s conservative characterisation of its heroines as ‘dangerously sexual’ is at odds with its comparatively radical embrace of the monstrous. The novels are premised on the idea that true monsters are those who perpetrate hateful crimes, rather than those with uncommon physical forms or abilities (Smith and Moruzi 13). This opens up space for the protagonists to explore (with admitted reluctance) alternative, subversive femininities made possible through their statuses as supernatural beings – “Each girl’s unique qualities offer an opportunity for her to… define a new model of femininity that allows her to become the hero of her story.” (11) There is a fracturing of identities evident across both scholars’ texts – between antiquated and modern, conservative and liberal, sexual and modest, and monstrous and normative. Yet the hegemonic discourse of the lady constrains and ultimately dominates its competitor discourses. Even while Allan’s students reach for the power promised by Girl Power, they can only perform it in ways that maintain and enhance “heteronormative (upper-middle-class) femininity,” i.e. the image of the

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lady (Allan 156). Meanwhile, the gothic YA protagonists studied by Smith and Moruzi each pair up into heterosexual romantic relationships at the end of their respective series, proving they are powerless against the sexual compulsions their narratives already demarcated as personally and institutionally dangerous, and thereby undermining their agencies as characters (Smith and Moruzi 14).

The active workings of the lady discourse within modern girls’ academies and gothic YA is ultimately due to the influence of the education system. The education system’s purpose is to impart important, factual knowledge to the next generation, but it also serves a significant role in instilling specific ideologies and behaviours in its attendees.

How gender should be conducted is a critical subject of learning. As Judith Butler explains in Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (1990), “gender is an identity tenuously constituted in time, instituted in an exterior space through a stylised repetition of acts” (Butler 179). The lady discourse was developed over several centuries, and is simply a mode of performing femininity which has accrued cultural cachet, rather than an inherently superior type of behaviour. Since ladyship is a “stylised repetition of acts,” a performance, it must be taught to its performers, and the education system is a major site of this teaching. This is seen most obviously by the enforcement of codes of sexual propriety at the all-girls school studied by Allan. For example, the girls’ skirts are frequently inspected by teachers to make sure they are at “‘acceptable’ and ‘appropriate’” lengths (Allan 154).

Discouragement of sexually-coded fashion is subsequently internalised and re-transmitted by the students – Allan notes that the girls “‘police’ one another in these ways too; often telling their friends that their clothes [are] too ‘tarty’, ‘too sexy’…” (154) The influence of the education system is also found in gothic YA. Though the novels in this genre are not directly produced by any formal education system, they bear the fingerprints of their ancestor, the girls’ school story. Books like Fielding’s The Governess functioned in their time as behaviour manuals for young girls with the explicit intention of turning them into ‘little ladies.’ Vestiges of this agenda have lingered within the genre and transferred to gothic YA, where the lady discourse still echoes out from the recesses of its past, manifesting as anxieties around the sexualities of its female protagonists. In the academies of both reality and fantasy, the education system operates as a tool for the enforcement of hegemonic discourses. Its power is such that the objects of its indoctrination become indoctrinators themselves, absorbing notions of ladyship and directing it onto others. Furthermore, it is so persistent that it sticks to a literary form otherwise defined by its contemporaneous embrace of the Other, delivering its dour lessons many decades after its contact with the genre.

Gothic YA and girls’ academies appear completely unrelated on the surface, but are in fact intertwined through a shared history of the British girls’ boarding school. This common ancestor has inserted the lady discourse, including its suppression of girls’ sexualities, into their very DNA, the ramifications of which continue to be played out every day in girls’ classrooms and in their libraries. The discourse of the ‘little lady’ persists in these venues by virtue of the power of the educational system, one of the main priorities of

which is to uphold hegemonic discourses around gender and sexuality, particular performance considered ‘natural’ and ‘right’. Girls’ academies and gothic YA may be populated by the young women of the twenty-first century, but the attitudes around femininity and heterosexuality therein come to us all the way from the eighteenth.

Works Cited Allan, Alexandra Jane. “The importance of being a ‘lady’: hyper-femininity and heterosexuality in the private, single-sex primary school.” Gender and Education,

vol. 21, no. 2, March 2009, 145 – 158.

Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York City:

Routledge, 1999.

Smith, Michelle J. and Kristine Moruzi. “Vampires and Witches Go to School:

Contemporary Young Adult Fiction, Gender, and the Gothic.” Children’s Literature

in Education, vol.49, 2018, 6 – 18.

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“Meat is King” and Other Fallacies

Jenna Gade

In Western culture, meat consumption is normalized through powerful discourses of race, class, and sex. In The Sexual Politics of Meat, author Carol Adams unpacks the social inequality that is perpetuated through discourses of meat (1990). Adams addresses historical values and beliefs that underpin our current dietary habits, bringing to our attention the class, patriarchal, and racial distinctions that meat consumption proclaims (1990). In this paper, I will break down Adams’s arguments of class, race, and patriarchal inequality presented in her article to better understand the radical sexual subject. Adams becomes a radical sexual subject when she produces discourse that critiques compulsory heterosexuality. The history of meat promotes a hierarchical ordering of subjects and supports compulsory heterosexual ideals.

It is necessary to draw on Michael Foucault’s theory of discourse in The Incitement to Discourse to better understand how power operates through discourse (1978). Through my personal experience, and as exemplified in Adams’s article, it is evident that consuming meat is a way to perform gender. Utilizing Judith Butler’s article Gender is Burning: Questions of Appropriation and Subversion, I will explore how Butler would understand the gendered discourse of meat as a call to perform (1997). As we better understand the gendered dynamics of meat, it is evident that femininity and masculinity dictate the retrieval and consumption of meat. Julia Serano’s arguments about femininity and masculinity in Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininitycontrasts Butler’s understandings of gender as being a construction (2009). Serano suggests that socialization exaggerates the biological gender differences that are already present (2009). Serano belief in biological gender differences challenges the radical sexual subject produced through the discourse of meat consumption. Serano likely would not critique compulsory heterosexuality and would not view the discourse of meat as a radical standpoint.

“Meat is best” is a powerful discourse that ensures those who obtain, and consume meat are the most powerful. This discourse promotes a hierarchy of power based on the form of protein consumed. This hierarchical discourse dates back to colonial attitudes which determined which societies were considered civilized, and those who were not. As a result, the plant-based protein sources of the “less civilized” societies and cultures became inferior. Adams explains this discourse is upheld by white superiority values (2009).

Cultures that obtain their protein from plant-based sources have historically been labeled as “savage” and “lower” classes in society, (2009). Utilizing Adams’s arguments, and the theory of discourse from Foucault, we can see that the racist discourse of meat stigmatizes and stereotypes those who do not consume it (1978).

Normalizing meat discourses requires a constant and powerful denunciation of all opposing discourses. Foucault argues that nothing exists outside of discourse, but rather

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sex are created and utilized to exercise power (1978). Foucault discusses the archaic and forceful ways power has been utilized to construct discourses of sex: “This scheme for transform­ing sex into discourse had been devised long before in an ascetic and monastic setting” (1978). This struggle for power is exemplified when we study the sexual and racialized politics of meat.

Powerful people in our society maintain their dominance through eating meat; meat serves as a way to reassert power over others. Dominant discourses invalidate plantbased protein sources by calling forth assumptions based on classism, racism, and respectively, sexism. Adams discusses in depth the patriarchal and class distinctions that this dietary habit proclaims: “The sexism in meat eating recapitulates the class distinctions with an added twist: a mythology permeates all classes that meat is a masculine food and meat eating a male activity” (1990). In western society, where food supply is abundant, it is difficult to see the sex and class distinctions that meat eating perpetuates. Historically in times of food scarcity, we can see class and gender dynamics are at play; men are given meat, while lower-class civilians (often women) suffer (1990).

Modern science has aided in our understanding of nutrition and changed our understanding of protein requirements. We are now aware of the health, environmental, and unethical drawbacks of the meat industry. However, the dominant discourses of meat eating still plague our society. Adams addresses this dichotomy in the field of nutrition: “It was one thing…to demonstrate there were many viable alternatives to meat, “but it is another to convince a man who enjoys his beefsteak.” The male prerogative to eat meat is an external, observable activity implicitly reflecting a recurring fact: meat is a symbol of male dominance.” (1990). While we may be aware that meat is not the only protein option, many societies rely on meat to establish dominance through masculinity and power.

Adams would understand the radical sexual subject to be one who subverts these power dynamics of meat. Moreover, a radical sexual subject would be one who is aware of the gendered discourse around meat eating and strives to challenge this heteronormative discourse.

Discourses in western societies exemplify the assumption that meat is for the man.

Adams views the culture of meat as a patriarchal system that favours the upper-class white man. Discourses of meat assume that to become strong, one must eat another animal.

Further, meat discourse tells men to prove their strength and masculinity by conforming to gendered behaviours such as animal consumption. Judith Butler discusses the theory of performativity which views socialization as the reason for gender difference (1997). Utilizing Butler’s theory of performativity, it is easy to understand how the dominant discourse of meat consumption is perpetuated in society; through the call to perform (1997). Men are called into the “meat is for men” discourse through heteronormative standards which proclaim that meat is masculine. Further, this hegemonic discourse operates by situating the absence of meat as a symbol of feminism.

We are called into “meat is power” discourses through stereotypes and assumptions.

Following this call, we then have the option of acknowledging the call and identifying

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with that subjectivity. As a result of this identification with meat eating, we internalize this performance and solidify its prevalence in our society. Butler argues that this call into discourse is formative: “The call is formative, if not performative, precisely because it initiates the individual into the subjected status of the subject” (1997). Butler would argue that the gendered, and racialized discourses came before our social understanding of meat, suggesting that radical sexual subjects are produced as a result of the resistance to meat discourse. The discourse of manhood in western cultures is strictly linked to the consumption of meat. This intrinsic link of meat to masculinity restricts one’s ability to form a unique identity, making it difficult for heterosexual people to resist the hail (1997).

Biological sex differences are exaggerated in our society and produce assumptions that men require more meat than women simply due to bodily requirements. Moreover, biological theories suggest men have an innate “hunter like” drive that women seem to lack, justifying their consumption of meat accordingly (2009). Theorist Julia Serano contrasts Adams and Butler when she asserts that biological gender differences exist (2009).

Serano believes that sexism in our culture exists: “Femininity and femaleness are not appreciated nor values to the extent that masculinity and maleness are.” (2009). Similarly, to Adams, Serano acknowledges the exaggerated gender differences in our society historically, and currently. Throughout Serano’s transition to female, she experienced harmful gendered expectations: “I felt overwhelmed by all of the negative connotations and inferior meaning that other people began to project onto me” (2009). Adams and Serano both agree that the attributes of masculinity and femininity are wrongfully segregated, and exaggerated.

In Contrast to Adams and Butler, Serano criticizes socialization explanations for gender differences. Utilizing her own experience as an example, Serano explains that biological gender difference is real (2009). Further, Serano suggests that the desire to simplify gender into two distinct categories has led to a toxic gender dichotomy restricting both men and women. While acknowledging the biological underpinning of gender, Serano makes a point to contest theorists such as Butler, who believe gender difference is solely due to performativity: “since some attributes that are considered feminine or masculine are clearly affected by our hormones, attempts by some gender theorists to frame femininity and masculinity as being entirely artificial or performative seem misplaced” (2009).

Serano would argue that meat masculinity is not performative, but rather men’s biological need for meat is socially exaggerated.

Historical accounts of dietary habits exemplify the power relation attached to the consumption of meat. Although gender, cultures, and science have evolved, we are still stuck in a harmful discourse that supports meat as the most powerful food. Much like compulsory heterosexuality, meat consumption is normalized in our society resulting in harm for all genders, races, and classes. Through an exploration of the radical sexual subject, it is evident that Carol Adams becomes a radical sexual subject when she views the discourse of meat as a form of compulsory heterosexuality. Through my activism for the plant-based lifestyle and feminism, I contend the norm. As a result, I too have become a

a radical sexual subject.

References Adams, C. (1990) The Sexual Politics of Meat: A Feminist-Vegetarian Critical Theory. (pp.

47-63) Bloomsbury.

Butler, J. (1993) Eds. Anne McClintock, Aamir Mufti, and Ella Shohat. Gender is Burning:

Questions of Appropriation and Subversion (pp. 381-395). University of Minnesota Press.

Foucault, M. (1978) The Incitement to Discourse: The History of Sexuality (Vol. 1).

Vintage Books.

Serano, J. (2009) Boygasms and Girlgasms, Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on

Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity (pp. 65-76). Seal Press.

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The Hierarchal Valuation of Sex Acts: Analyzing Rape Fantasy and Play in the Context of Sadomasochism Nicole Di Giuseppe

Sexuality and sexual fantasies are complex and unique to individual experiences of pleasure and intimacy. Similar to other binary classifications like gender, sexual acts are often socially categorized under two groups: “good sex” and “bad sex.” Gayle Rubin’s article “Thinking Sex: Notes for a Radical Theory of the Politics of Sexuality,” explores the hierarchal valuation of sex acts which rank sexual practices as good or bad (1984). Under the hierarchal valuation of sex, sadomasochism and kink fall on the side of “bad sex;” such acts are often demonized and thought of as vicious and misogynistic. Hence, those who participate are frequently ostracized, and often thought of and/or labelled as abnormal and violent. Despite the dominance of rape culture in Western society, it is understood that sexual violence and rape are not synonymous with consensual sexual interactions.

Rape and sexual violence are not categorized as either “good sex” or “bad sex” because lack of consent does not render them as sex in the first place. This concrete distinction between rape and consensual sex is complexified by sadomasochistic fantasies of rape and rape play. In this essay, I will explore the intricacies rape fantasy and rape play pose in the discussion of sadomasochism and sexuality at large. Rape fantasies and rape play do not exist separate from the reality of modern-day rape culture in which sexual violence is perpetuated through patriarchal power and domination. It is difficult to fathom situations in which individuals fantasize or re-enact circumstances of rape as in reality they are harmful and traumatic. However, in the context of BDSM and kink, such fantasies generate discourse around the social hierarchies of valued sex acts. This discourse considers the ways in which subjugated fantasies and sadomasochism actively work to dismantle the automatic assumption that rape fantasy and play inevitably perpetuate rape culture, sexual violence, and misogyny.

Before exploring the implications and complexities of rape fantasy and rape play, I believe it is necessary to define both. Rape fantasy encompasses sexual fantasies that involve the use of physical or threat of force, incapacitant by way of sleep or intoxication, and/or coercing sexual activity against one’s will (Bivona & Critelli, 2008). Generally, rape fantasies contain the elements of “force, sex, and nonconsent” (Bivona & Critelli, p. 59, 2008). Rape play can be defined as the consensual role-playing of such conditions during sexual encounters. For this analysis, I will be referring exclusively to fantasies where the fantasizer is taking on the role of the victim. Sex negative perspectives position non-traditional forms of sex as largely dangerous and destructive (Rubin, 1984). Sadomasochist sex, which is commonly depicted as dangerous, supports sex-negative ideologies when

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misinterpreted as such. Ideologies concerning rape reinforce sexual violence as a negative force, despite being made possible in a culture which sexual violence is perpetuated through patriarchy and misogyny. Thomas Macaulay Millar (p. 29, 2008) in “Toward a Performance Model of Sex,” denotes rape as “an act of war against women, one that can be committed only because of an entire culture of support, which makes most rapes permissible.” The traumatic reality of rape and rape culture complicate our understanding and ability to comprehend fantasies and sadomasochistic rape play. For those who do not experience such fantasies and desires, it does not seem normal or permissible (Bivona & Critelli, 2008). Thus, we are quick to judge, scrutinize, and marginalize individuals who participate.

In Western culture, there is a dominant understanding of what sex should look like. There is a need to create and preserve an “imaginary line between good and bad sex” (Rubin, p. 282, 1984). According to Rubin’s hierarchal system of sex, sex which occurs under the conditions of heterosexuality within monogamous marriage and for the purposes of reproduction is at the top of the hierarchy and is considered “good” and “acceptable” (1984). While at the bottom of the hierarchy, falls any sex that violates these rules. This may include, but is not limited to, sex involving trans bodies, sadomasochists and fetishists, sex workers, and people who have sex across generational boundaries (Rubin, 1984).

Sadomasochistic and kinky sex have traditionally been depicted as violent and unsafe which has allowed such practices to be misinterpreted as inherently “bad.” These depictions are often reinforced inaccurately through sadomasochistic pornography.

Rape fantasies and play cause moral panic as they combine sadomasochism and the concept of rape: two morally abominated occurrences. Patrick Califia in “Feminism and Sadomasochism,” explains that as a result of violent depictions of sadomasochism, “most people do not think there is a great deal of difference between a rapist and a bondage enthusiast” (p. 169, 2000). I believe it is important to reiterate that individuals who participate in rape fantasies and play are not automatically rapists or enthusiasts of rape. Califia emphasizes fantasy as the key word in understanding sadomasochism (Califia, 2000). He outlines “…a free society must distinguish between the fantasy or thought of committing a crime and the actual crime. It is not a felony to fantasize committing an illegal act, and it should not be…” (Califia, p. 179, 2000). However, I do believe it is important to be critical in understanding the influence rape culture culturally informing sexuality at large.

The obvious difference between consensual rape play/fantasy and rape itself is the presence of consent. Califia reinforces that sadomasochism is not sexual assault but rather a highly consensual sex activity which “involves polarized roles and intense sensation” (171, 2000). I believe this detail is nuanced when combining sadomasochistic fantasies and re-enactments of sexual assault and rape. As mentioned before, rape fantasy/play do not exist apart from the reality of rape culture in our society. Susan Brownmiller in her book Against Our Will contends that “women’s rape fantasies are a pathological manifestation of male-dominated culture” (cited in Bivona & Critelli, p. 65, 2008). Sex in Western culture is dominated by realities and fantasies in which men act as sexual aggressors and

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women as victims of men’s violence (Bivona & Critelli, 2008). It is critical to challenge whether or not rape fantasy/play exist as a result of rape culture and rape myth acceptance. However, I believe such challenges become problematic when they demonize and shame individuals who experience such fantasies and consensually participate in sadomasochism through rape play. Califia notes that, for some, the presence of consent in sadomasochism makes it acceptable while for others, it is the consent that makes it more horrifying (2000). Again, as Rubin outlines, there is a constant attempt to maintain an imaginary line of what is sexually acceptable. Rubin’s work also suggests that, “a democratic morality should judge sexual acts by the way partners treat one another, the level of mutual consideration, the presence or absence of coercion, and the quantity and quality of the pleasures they provide” (pg. 283, 1984). Thus, in the presence of consent, mutual respect, and concern for safety, sadomasochism through rape play and fantasy do not call for judgement of ethics and morality outside of Rubin’s democratic morality (1984). Especially from those who are not involved in the exchange. The notion of consent may justify rape play and fantasy or complicate our understandings further.

Experiences of rape fantasy and play are unique to each individual who participates.

Corie Hammers (2014) in the article “Corporeality, Sadomasochism and Sexual Trauma,” offers a perspective on rape play that suggests its therapeutic influence on survivors of sexual violence. She proposes that “rape play is for survivors of sexual trauma a performance that encompasses physical and psychic pain… Rape play interrupts the doubt and disabling that had held the body hostage. It is through this sharing—a consensual type of dumping—that the somatic pain loosens its grip on the victim…” (Hammers, p. 7173, 2014). In re-enacting scenarios of rape and sexual violence, the survivors included in Hammers’ study express the effect rape play has on them regaining control of themselves and their trauma. One participant explains the reclamation of her power through the quote, “in re-enacting my rape I’m doing it on my own terms… I own my power, my body with SM in my rape play. With kink the pain is no longer there. The pain I felt physically is more or less gone... I lost this with the rape. I have reclaimed myself ” (Hammers, p. 79, 2014). Rape and sexual violence strip its victims of autonomy and choice, and in many cases a sense of self. Reclaiming one’s agency and autonomy through sadomasochism after experiences of sexual violence, through re-enacting past trauma, speaks to sadomasochism’s power on gaining confidence and sexual control of one’s self. It is important to note that this is not to assume that all people who participate in sadomasochism and rape play are survivors of sexual trauma. It is also not to suggest that rape play should or can be used as an intervention to trauma. However, it is significant to acknowledge that through rape play some survivors have reconnected with their bodies and freed the “bad pain” that they experience as a result of rape (Hammers, p. 87, 2014).

Society works to order sexual acts in a hierarchal system of value categorizing sadomasochism as dangerous and destructive. Creating a discussion about rape fantasy and play is one of great difficulty; as both rape and sexual violence exist as a painful and traumatic reality in the lives whom they affect. The presence of rape culture in Western

society complicates the intersection of sadomasochism and fantasy, and the notion of rape. However, I believe the complex conversation around rape play/fantasy is necessary to destigmatize those who participate and work toward dismantling the imaginary line of what is and is not deemed sexually acceptable. Sexuality and fantasies are multifaceted and should not be considered ethical concerns when informed consent, respect, and mutual understanding are present. Rape fantasy and play in the context of sadomasochism are not the epitome of violence and misogyny, and do not inevitably perpetuate rape culture.

Rape and sexual violence do. Sexual subjects will continue to fantasize and participate in sexual acts that make sense to and please them, and, in some cases, heal them. However, it is critical to consider the cultural implications that render as a result and the challenging discussions that are created when fantasy/play and the notion of rape are merged.

References Califia, P. (2000) Feminism and Sadomasochism. Public Sex: The Culture of Radical Sex

(2nd Ed). Cleis Press, 168-180 Critelli, J., & Bivona, J. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory

and Research. The Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi. org/10.1080/00224490701808191 Hammers, C. (2014). Corporeality, Sadomasochism and Sexual Trauma. Body & Society,

20(2), 68–90. https://doi.org/10.1177/1357034X13477159 Millar, T. M. (2008). Toward a Performance Model of Sex. In Yes Means Yes: Visions of

Female Sexual Power and A World Without Rape (pp. 29–40). Seal Press.

Rubin, G. (1984). Thinking Sex: Notes for a Radical Theory of the Politics of Sexuality.

Pleasure and Danger: Exploring Female Sexuality, 267-319.

Brownmiller, S. (1975). Against Our Will: Men, Women, and Rape. New York: Simon & Schuster.

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Queer and Disabled Bodies: The (In)visible Disruption of Normalcy Nidhi Marulappa

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Upon learning about and living amongst various populations and forms of oppression and discrimination, it was with skepticism that I had approached the topic of considering two commonly oppressed groups of individuals – queer and disabled bodies, as being similar, while also working towards the disruption of the various normative dichotomies which exist in our society. However, after continuing to attend lectures and reading author Mara Pieri’s “The Sound that You Do Not See: Notes on Queer and Disabled Invisibility,” I was able to develop a larger and better understanding of how this may be so. Mara Pieri discusses visibility politics to successfully establish similarities between queer and disabled experiences, and explains how as “acousmatic figures,” these groups are considered to be invisible, but can also embrace their invisibility and in turn, disrupt normalcy as a means of transforming popular societal views. In this essay, in order to elaborate on, and support my agreeance with Pieri’s arguments, I will make connections to the silencing and invisibleness of queer and disabled experiences that I have personally witnessed, and will also discuss how acousmatic figures have, in reality, been working towards the disruption of normalcy, simply by being themselves.

In order to assist the reader in understanding that queer and disabled experiences are connected and share similar features, Pieri discusses the ways in which invisibility is constructed amongst both groups. To explicate the claim that queer and disabled individuals are considered to be similar in that they are both “silent and invisible subjects” (Pieri, p. 559), she focuses on the concepts of deviancy and normalcy. Given that these groups do not follow systems of compulsion which reinstate and value standards of normalcy, and more specifically, the notions of compulsory heterosexuality and compulsory able-bodiedness, they become deviant from the norm, and therefore are marked as “others from the ‘normate subject’ – white, heterosexual, able, cisgender man” (Pieri, p. 560). Moreover, when queer and disabled groups face such exclusion and are deemed abnormal beings, political, social, and cultural conditions of invisibility are created, in which they are unavoidably positioned. Due to this exclusion and invisibility, both groups tend to share histories and recurring patterns of oppression and discrimination. This makes it extremely difficult for them to take part in, and contribute to day-to-day activities and decisions in the social, political, and cultural realm, as norm-conforming subjects do. In turn, these individuals are seen as unworthy, unimportant, and unwanted bodies which are invisible and illegitimate to others, causing many difficulties for them, in accessing various spaces and being taken seriously.

In my personal experience working at a women’s shelter, a space which is meant to be inclusive of all people regardless of their age, race, sexuality, and able-bodiedness, I

seen the invisibility brought upon queer and disabled bodies, first hand. In order to preserve the identity of the shelter’s participants, I will use different names when describing each of their experiences. Alex, a young transgender woman, and Lily, and elderly woman with a chronic disability which causes her to use a wheelchair to perform all tasks, were constantly discriminated against and deemed invisible and unworthy bodies to those around them. One day, Alex approached me about continuing and completing her high school education, but made it clear that nobody took her seriously when she had gone to enquire about the matter, including institutional employees, as well as her friends and acquaintances at the shelter. Similarly, Lily waited daily for the workers at the shelter to bring her meals as she was not able to do so (an agreement which was arranged years ago), but nobody would remember, and did not seem to care when she brought up the fact that she had not eaten yet. If they cared to reply, they would reply with remarks such as “I’ll do it later Lily, you can wait.” These are examples of the ways in which queer and disabled bodies are very similar in that they are constantly invisible to the eyes of those around them, as well as examples of how these bodies are considered unworthy and deviant, resulting in their lack of access to not only basic human needs such as nutrition in Lily’s case, but also their “difficulties in accessing spaces of political legitimacy” (Pieri, p. 559) such as spaces of employment, education, and housing, as seen in Alex’s case.

Speaking on the invisibility and lack of understanding and acknowledgement towards queer and disabled individuals, Pieri attempts to challenge these notions and in doing so, refers to the groups as “acousmatic subjects” which produce “acousmatic sounds” – “those that are heard but whose source is not visible” (Pieri, p. 567). In other words, she is challenging the perceived unworthiness and deviancy of invisible bodies, by insisting that while they embrace their invisibility to the systems of compulsion of able-bodiedness and heterosexuality, they can also contribute to awareness and consciousness-raising by creating their own voices and stories. By accepting that visibility is not something that is easy to achieve for them, queer and disabled individuals should, and are striving to transform normative views regarding society’s perception of them, by being heard, despite the fact that they are considered to be invisible. Disabled and queer people, as discussed above, have been, and are continuing to be excluded from numerous social, political, and cultural spaces and areas, which needs to be challenged and changed, as Pieri emphasizes.

An example of these acousmatic subjects challenging invisibility for example, may be something along the lines of what Alex, the participant at the women’s shelter, had done. Although she acknowledged her deviance and invisibility, the act of actually going to the school’s committee and enquiring about her enrolment serves as a perfect description of challenging society’s normative way of thought, and in turn, her invisibility. She realizes her marginalization and oppression, and still strives to engage in fighting for her needs that she believes, and rightfully so, should be accessible to all people. We can even see invisibility among disabled and queer groups being challenged by considering the numerous queer and disabled actors, singers, academics, athletes, educators, and celebrities, amongst others, that exist. Moreover, in my opinion, we can then see how many queer

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and disabled people as acousmatic subjects, in fact, are already challenging invisibility simply by being themselves. By embracing and letting their queerness and disabilities be known to others, and attending public, political, and cultural spaces which should accessible to all people, they are disrupting and transforming the concept of normalcy, and are actually adding themselves into the realm of “normative” bodies and behaviour, straying away from the disturbing and exclusive systems of compulsion and dichotomies which have been in place for much too long. By challenging invisibility, we, as a society, can then move and transform towards a different society which eventually embraces invisibility and invisible bodies such as those of queer and disabled bodies.

Seeing as Pieri’s article contained extensive information regarding queer and disabled bodies, which I believe is an extremely important topic, I was able to articulate that she was successful in communicating the similarities between the experiences of these groups. Furthermore, I also agree with her statement that as acousmatic subjects, queer and disabled individuals have the ability to challenge invisibility politics and disrupt normalcy and systems of compulsion. The fact that her article allowed me to make connections to the experiences I have had working with queer and disabled bodies and the ways in which they experience invisibility, largely assisted in the formulation of my thoughts and agreement with her arguments. Seeing as visibility and invisibility are “inter-relational concepts, since they require more than one subject to engage in the process” (Pieri, p.

569), I believe that if we work together and dismantle our compulsive views while accepting and embracing invisible bodies and seeing them as visible and legitimate bodies instead, we can truly achieve the disruption of normalcy.

Works Cited Pieri, Mara. “The sound you do not see: Notes on queer and disabled invisibility.”

Sexuality & Culture, Vol. 23, no.2, 2019, pp. 558-570.

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The Art of Masking Colonialism Madison Osborne

The “cultural mosaic”, a metaphor suggesting that people of all racial backgrounds fit together to create the artwork that is this nation, is a major source of pride for Canadians. This form of multiculturalism is often represented in opposition to the American “melting pot”, which is instead thought to be more representative of assimilation (Wikipedia 2019). Multiculturalism is a social process supported by legal policy that looks to differentiate various cultures and racial groups within a society. It encourages and maintains this difference by framing it as a strength to have such diversity within one geographical location, and as if it provides all racial groups with equal value, say, and opportunity throughout Canada (Oxford English Dictionary 2019).

This is the utopian ideal but is by no means the reality. Although multiculturalism is empowering in theory, as represented through the “cultural mosaic”, in practice it functions by imposing limitations upon groups as the “melting pot” might- just in subtler ways. I will argue that in actuality, multiculturalism functions as a powerful colonization strategy. By emphasizing difference, boundaries are produced that maintain racial separation, hierarchization, and assimilation. This perpetuates the idea of a singular and supposedly ‘unified’ goal for Canada’s future, which benefits white people and maintains the status quo (Arvin et al 10).

The Ascendancy of Whiteness Ascendancy of whiteness is the notion that one’s identity as a white person can somehow remain apolitical, impartial to bias, unprivileged, and ‘inviting’ of other racialized groups into their way of life, as if proving their egalitarian values (Arvin et al 10).

Such ‘inclusion’ into white culture is not a means of achieving a future in Canada wherein everyone’s voice is heard and respected, as is inaccurately proposed by multiculturalism (Oxford English Dictionary 2019). Rather, it reinforces settler colonial ideals upon minority groups as a means of assimilation and phasing out of non-settler culture (Arvin et al 10). Ascendancy of whiteness is a colonization strategy because it brings people of colour into certain (white) social groups on the basis of acknowledging difference, all the while using these social connections to encourage racial minorities to adopt settler ideals full-time.

Becoming colonized is framed as a ‘privilege’ not afforded to all minority groups, masking the cultural devastation done to these societies. In this way, cultural success requires an actor to be white or to have a ‘white agenda’, meaning goals and aspirations must be based in those of the colonizer. White ascendancy reinforces these colonial goals by discounting the privilege inherent in whiteness and instead suggests that anyone can achieve what the white man has if they adopt the colonial lifestyle (Arvin et al 10-11).

Hence, multiculturalism reveals itself in the idea that all cultures do, and should, have the same goals for the future (Arvin et al 10). By arguing that there is no inherent racial

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inequality, there is no need to stand up for injustice because if racial minorities were to just adopt colonial ideology instead, there should, in theory, be no barriers to success for them. Additionally, by keeping racial groups separate from each other, there is no space to observe inconsistencies and argue against multicultural theory.

Assimilation via ascendancy of whiteness naturalizes and normalizes colonization (Arvin et al 14) through racist habit. For Merleau-Ponty, habit is a way of moving through the world in a familiar and socially acceptable way that is neither questioned, calculated, nor interrupted and is often repeated until it becomes unconscious, although it can be brought into consciousness (Ngo 848-849). Settler colonialism represents this kind of habit as it is so ingrained in Western society through multicultural discourse that it often goes unnoticed. Through habit, one looks to exist in the world in a socially acceptable way (Ngo 848). In conversation with multiculturalism, habit looks to reproduce colonial ideals, thereby exhibiting racist understandings of what is right and wrong in the western world (ie. the colonial way of life is the ‘right’ way, and any other way of existing is improper).

Ascendancy of whiteness might be interrogated as a framework used to justify the assimilation of Indigenous children in Canadian residential schools, made possible through an understanding of Indigenous people as ‘uncivilized’. But, with colonial teachings, they have potential to become ‘valuable’ members of Canadian society (Hutchings 303). Adults were considered futile, and so the focus was on Indigenous youth, who were thought to be more easily controlled and malleable. A new (western) culture was imposed upon them by forcibly severing familial ties and punishing them for practicing non-colonial tradition, for example (Hutchings 303).

The British government framed this as a ‘rescue mission’, as if Indigenous society was essentially uninhabitable as it was functioning. The first Bishop of Toronto, John Strachan, believed that Indigenous societies were “heathen systems” (Hutchings 304) that needed to be wiped out entirely so as to ‘save’ the Indigenous people living within them (Hutchings 304). By employing multicultural ideology, the government imposed settler colonial culture upon Indigenous people as if from a place of love and compassion to conceal the destruction it would cause and to hide the fact that residential schools were part of a larger scheme looking to conquer a massive group of people by slowly phasing youth out of the society entirely (Hutchings 304). n sum, ascendancy of whiteness feeds off the concept of multiculturalism by delegitimizing racism as a social structure, as well as the privilege inherent in whiteness (Arvin et al 10). This pulls on white racist notions, making it possible for white people to remain docile in instances of inequality. Thanks to habitual racism in the West, it has become easy to dismiss acts of discrimination, especially from a place of privilege. However this does not mean that the bystander is neutral, as ascendancy of whiteness might suggest. In fact, bystanders are part of the problem (Ngo 866). Although multiculturalism perpetuates a notion of ‘sameness’ that has become naturalized and internalized to the point of unconsciousness, Ngo makes it clear that racist habit can be brought into awareness (849). Remaining silent by inhabiting values of white ascendancy when acts of racism

and colonialism occur actually adds to the problem - it is not an excuse to stay silent simply because the dominant multicultural discourse says so.

A So-Called Monolithic Understanding of Equality Another way in which multiculturalism imposes colonial ideals upon racialized groups is through the assumption that equality, success, and empowerment look the same for everyone in Canada (Arvin et al 10). Realistically, with such diverse societies, cultures, religions, and upbringings it seems impossible that this could be the case. In fact, Indigenous people across the country have made it clear that they have, and always have had, very different goals for the future than settlers (Arvin et al 15). However, Canada seems not to care what Indigenous people have to say about what their goals and struggles really are (Arvin et al 14). Through multiculturalism, it has been made clear that Indigenous feminist battlesare not a priority for colonial Canada.

Before delving further, it is important to distinguish the differences between white and Indigenous feminisms. White feminism predominantly focuses on issues pertaining to white women, as if women of colour are less important or that once white women’s rights have been established, the needs of women of colour might then be considered. Indigenous feminism, on the other hand, argues that it is and always has been central to feminist thought, even before the terminology was established. It looks to dismantle the heteropatriarchy via decolonization and sovereignty (Arvin et al 24), as they are all interconnected; heteropatriarchy only became a phenomenon in Indigenous communities once they were colonized (Arvin et al 15). Heteropatriarchy is defined as recognizing the interconnection, normalization, and harm of systems of heterosexuality and patriarchy upon societies (Arvin et al 13). Although it is important to note that women’s issues and Indigenous issues are intricately intertwined, the two streams of feminism have different goals and need to be recognized as such (Arvin et al 14).

White feminism adopts a multicultural discourse in this sense by perpetuating the notion that ‘equality’ looks the same for everyone in the West. Similarly, it argues that fighting for issues specific to white women should be enough to please women of colour too, as if white feminism could be a ‘blanket fix’ for all women’s issues (Arvin et al 20).

Furthermore, by treating white feminism and Indigenous feminism as distinctly different, or treating Indigenous feminism as a subcategory of white feminism, racial separation and hierarchization is maintained. This treats Indigenous issues as separate from settler issues, and vice versa, disallowing a space wherein the two can come together to dismantle discriminatory structures, even if working together might be more effective (Arvin et al14).

The interconnection of white feminism and multiculturalism can also be seen in the banning of all religious symbols from government spaces in 2004 Quebec. This law impacted Muslim women disproportionately, for whom veiling is a critical part of their everyday lives, which had now been made illegal. This impacted the ways in which Muslim women were able to navigate their everyday lives and spaces (Ngo 857). By engaging with racist habit, the privilege in whiteness in regard to this law becomes clear. Although

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the law was proposed as being equally enforced upon all religions, those predominantly practiced by white people were virtually unaffected in their everyday lives and interactions. The very structure of Western society is built to suit Christianity and Catholicism, which are historically and predominately white religions in Canada (Ngo 857).

Furthermore, through a white feminist lens, veiling comes to be understood as oppressive due to a tendency to associate empowerment with secularism in the West (Ngo 857-858). This assumes that since veiling is a religious practice, Muslim women who veil have no voice, agency, or subjectivity through a system of pre-coding (Ngo 852). This law enabled the Quebec government to control Muslim women’s bodies in new and increasingly subtle ways, and to guide them towards an understanding of futurity much like, if not identical to, colonial ideology. Finally, by focusing on creating a society with homogeneous goals for the future via regulating veiling, the attention of the public is turned toward more trivial concerns and away from systemic oppression. This is effective from a multicultural perspective on two levels: first, it creates separation between racial groups by pointing out and problematizing difference; second, it hides the fact that racial difference supported by systemic biases cannot be overcome through assimilation. This effectively masks real social problems and allows for white people to remain negligent to issues of racism, as they are privileged by them.

Multiculturalism emphasizes inclusion into colonial goals for the future as critical to the cause. Arvin et al argue, however, that this is not enough (17). A discourse of inclusion attempts to fit racial minorities into a system that they were never meant to exist within, perpetuating a hierarchical system wherein those in power remain in power, although at face-value it seems like the minority groups have equal access to goods and resources, producing ‘sameness’ throughout Canada. In reality, though, change to better support or accommodate the needs of racialized groups does not occur in the slightest (Arvin et al 17). The wants and needs of minority racial groups are dismissed and persuaded to be something else entirely that will continue to benefit those already in power, white people (Arvin et al 14). At the end of the day, the colonial system remains fundamentally unchanged.

Indigenous Culture as Stagnant and Unchanging Over Time

When analyzing the effects of multiculturalism as a colonization strategy, one might look to the images that are highlighted versus hidden from the public to interrogate what kinds of stereotypes and images of racialized groups are produced (Arvin et al 10).

Through multiculturalism, difference is intentionally brought to the forefront as a means of making various racial groups appear incompatible with each other. This dismisses any responsibility to make change across racial boundaries (Arvin et al 14). By maintaining difference, a perceived impermeable incongruence is produced, as if understanding or appreciating dissimilar cultural values is impossible, and that a privileged group could not be of help to empower one that is discriminated against. However, Indigenous culture is not perceived to be a threat to settler society through an understanding that the same ultimate goals are being sought, although they are approached through alternate means (Arvin et

al 10).

One might look to formal education in Canada to understand the prevailing discourses surrounding Indigenous teachings. When critically analyzed, it becomes clear that from a young age, children in Canada are taught that settlers are superior to Indigenous people politically, morally, intellectually, and spiritually through the reinforcement of male-centric and racist notions (Arvin et al 18). More specifically, young people are often taught three main ideas about Indigenous culture throughout their educational careers that are instilled to the point of habituation; a strong sense of grief, deep connection to nature (potentially implying a lack of ‘civility’ or ‘culture’ in a Western sense), and the importance of ceremony or rituals (Arvin et al 18-19). Although there may be some truth to these stereotypes on a very basic level, Indigenous culture is much more complex than these ideas give credit for, and to assume that Indigenous culture is that simplistic is insulting, demeaning, and extremely problematic to say the least (Arvin et al 19).

By controlling knowledge about Indigenous culture in such restricting ways, Canadians remain ignorant to the reality and complexity of Indigenous life (Arvin et al 19).

Indigenous issues are disassociated from issues of intelligence and critical thought, sexual pleasure and desire, and politics, effectively portraying the culture as unchanging over time. Additionally, this discourse is dehumanizing and perpetuates separation from settler culture, as if to be Indigenous is to be an entirely different species (Arvin et al19). Indigenous culture is simplified and erased for the consumption of the general Canadian public under the label of a “multicultural” society, which is based in the idea of difference as inherent.

For example, Indigenous women are often understood through dominant discourses wherein they exist solely in relation to white men, understood as having authority over them. Compulsory heterosexuality is imposed upon Indigenous women through these representations, meaning that white male domination implies and necessarily requires the Indigenous woman to be heterosexual, leaving no space for queerness in Indigeneity (Arvin et al 26).

One might consider the ways in which Indigenous women are constructed via the media through a male-centric, heteropatriarchal, and settler colonial society as less-than (Arvin et al 26). There are two dominant stereotypes that Indigenous women tend to be framed through. Firstly, the “Pocahontas Perplex”, represents a beautiful and morally pure, yet seductive (for the white man) Indigenous woman who is highly respected by her community, but at the same time feels enticed to reject her culture to adopt that of the settler, even if it leads to the colonization of her own Indigenous community (Arvin et al 26). In opposition, the “Squaw” is an ugly, undesirable, indecent woman who is known and ostracized for having sexual relations with white men (Arvin et al 26). Through these narratives, Indigenous women are objectified, corrupted, and ‘straightened’ to fit an image of colonialism that keeps settlers separated from and superior to the Indigenous population, thereby upholding multiculturalism through difference and degradation. In this way, Indigenous women specifically are constructed as a non-threat because they are inferior

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to and controlled by the white man yet have the same hopes for the future which they will go about in their own ways. By pretending that Indigenous people have the same goals as settlers, the status quo is maintained (Arvin et al10).

Similarly, Ngo discusses the ways in which black bodies are pre-coded through habitual racist discourses which assume that there is a singular and stagnant way to exist within a black body, unchanging across time and space (Ngo 852). This perpetuates the idea that black male bodies are dangerous, uncontrollable, and evil to the extent that a white person is in danger in the presence of a black man (Ngo 583).

By pre-coding racial minorities based on stereotypes that stagnate, delegitimize, and dehumanize them, there is no space for a nuanced understanding of racialized, non-settler cultures. This allows for the continuation of white superiority through the notion that all racial groups are distinctly different from settler groups (Arvin et al 10). Due to an inability to recognize similarity and connection, the responsibility of those in power (white people specifically) to fight for meaningful change is effectively reduced (Ngo 866).

Whether these acts of racism are conscious or unconscious, white people do have a responsibility to see past harmful multicultural discourses and speak up for those with less privilege to dismantle oppressive colonial structures.

Conclusion When critically engaging with the value that multiculturalism places on difference, it becomes clear that the Canadian “cultural mosaic” is much more of a colonization strategy in practice than one of decolonization, acting like the “melting pot” method which openly supports assimilation (Wikipedia 2019). By highlighting difference, separation is maintained, ultimately discouraging meaningful action and change. In this way, Canada appears to be much more progressive than it really is.

If those in the most privileged racial positions took concrete action against racism to construct a more equitable and empowering future for all racialized groups, decolonization could be possible. However, while multiculturalism remains in Canada so does colonialism. By exploiting habitualized racism and settler ideals for perpetual benefit of white people at the expense of people of colour, the status quo is maintained.

Works Cited Arvin, Maile, et al. “Decolonizing Feminism: Challenging Connections between Settler

Colonialism and Heteropatriarchy.” Feminist Formations, vol. 25, no. 1, 2013, pp.

8–34., doi:10.1353/ff.2013.0006.

“Cultural Mosaic.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 17 Oct. 2019, https://en.wikipedia. org/wiki/Cultural_mosaic.

Hutchings, Kevin. “Cultural Genocide and the First Nations of Upper Canada: Some Ro

mantic-Era Roots of Canada’s Residential School System.” European Romantic Re

view, vol. 27, no. 3, May 2016, pp. 301–308. Scholars Portal Journals, doi:10.1080/10509585.2016.1163787.

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“Multiculturalism.” Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford University Press, 2019, https:// www-oed-com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/view/Entry/234921?redirectedFrom=multicultur alism#eid.

Ngo, Helen. “Racist Habits.” Philosophy & Social Criticism, vol. 42, no. 9, 2016, pp.

847–872., doi:10.1177/0191453715623320.

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A Critical Media Analysis on Vaginal Rejuvenation: Problematizing medicalization of the aesthetics of the female genitalia Kayla. A. Benjamin

In the review article Vaginal rejuvenation using energy-based devices by Dr. Cheryl Karcher and Dr. Neil Sadick, new treatments for both medical and aesthetic concerns in women regarding their genitals are summarized and discussed. The article focuses on a specific treatment for vaginal rejuvenation called ThermiVa. ThermiVa has been endorsed and advertised through marketing schemes emphasizing themes of healthism. In this paper I will analyze the tone of the physicians’ review of energy-based devices like ThermiVa, as well as a popular ad used to market ThermiVa in several women’s magazines and on medical company sites. I will also focus on the implications of medicalization in terms of vaginal rejuvenation, and the messages about women conveyed through the language used in both the article and the advertisement.

The physicians begin by outlining common anatomical concerns among women, highlighting society’s role in building these concerns around female genitalia (International Journal of Women’s Dermatology [IJWD], 85). The authors state that increasing numbers of women “are choosing to alter their genital anatomy to gain greater self-esteem, diminish functional discomforts and difficulties, and improve sexual pleasure” (p. 85). The doctors review several procedures that are currently available to women, allowing them to “restore the optimal structure of the vagina” (p. 85). The physicians evaluate and compare the success of both laser and radiofrequency-based devices as tools for ‘vaginal restoration.’ In their analysis of ThermiVa, they referenced a successful study by Alinsod (2015) that included 23 women (IJWD, 86). The authors conclude their review of this study by endorsing these new treatments due to their potential to ‘positively’ impact women, and bring them toward ‘reclaiming’ their femininity (IJWD, 88).

ThermiVa, a heat-delivering tool used to tighten “external and internal vulvovaginal tissue” (p. 86) has become popular through celebrity endorsements, and circulation on daytime television shows like The Doctors and in women’s magazines, such as Cosmopolitan and People. An advertisement for ThermiVa pictures a woman on a beach. The woman’s facial expression and posture scream positive, free, and empowered. The ad reads, “Reclaim your sexual health. Restore your well-being. Revive your relationships,” emphasizing ThermiVa’s slogan “Reclaim. Restore. Revive.”

In her paper Women and Medicalization, Catharine Kohler Riessman suggests, “both physicians and women have contributed to the redefining of women’s experience into medical categories” (p. 47). Riessman’s paper explains medicalization as a transformation of human experiences into medical events (p. 46-47). The concept of medicalization

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is demonstrated through the tone, language and audience of Kardick and Sacher’s (2016) review article. As physicians reviewing medical devices engineered for a socially constructed issue, Kardick and Sacher transform natural human experiences into ‘causes’ for genitourinary conditions, and endorse expensive solutions (IJWD, 86). Endorsing vaginal rejuvenation in a journal that circulates among physicians creates a medical environment wherein vaginal rejuvenation for cosmetic purposes is normalized. The article’s obvious subjective tone appears both celebratory and positive as the authors remark on the scientific progress made with these technologically advancing devices (p. 86-97). Kardick and Sacher’s conclusion also emphasizes their endorsement of the product as they label these procedures as methods of reclaiming lost femininity (IJWD, 88). This positive tone makes it more likely that other physicians will be encouraged to recommend reconstructive procedures, like ThermiVa, to their patients. It is likely that the physicians will also target the ideal candidates outlined in the article; women who claim to have poor sex lives, and poor self-esteem around their sexuality, as well as women who have encountered natural bodily changes that alter aspects of their genitals in a way that society deems undesirable (IJWD, 85). Riessman’s argument that illness is constructed and “conferred by others” is evident in the way physicians construct ‘conditions’ out of the results of natural human experiences, specific to women, which have been previously undergone without reason for concern (p.

48-49). In the review article, the authors suggest vaginal rejuvenation procedures are appropriate for women who have experienced “childbirth, weight fluctuations, and hormonal changes due to aging and menopause” (p. 85). This exemplifies how physicians medicalize events that have never previously necessitated “routine medical scrutiny” (p. 50).

When physicians medicalize natural events they demonize women’s bodies by suggesting their natural functions are working against them. This conveniently develops a large audience they can then market costly fixes like cosmetic procedures toward. As noted on The Doctors, the cost for ThermiVa averages between $3500 and $6500, making it financially inaccessible to many women despite its marketing as a tool for universal concern among women who age and who have had vaginal births. This article and the medicalization of natural processes in general, contribute to a lowered self-esteem among women. Karcher and Sadick’s use of language such as “optimal structure of the vagina” (p. 85) and the notion of reclaiming femininity suggests there is a single correct vaginal structure, and also suggests a correlation between femininity and one’s vaginal lubrication and strength (IJWD, 88).

These treatments also extend into an imposed responsibility on women to ensure their vulva/vagina remains sexually desirable, feminine and ‘optimal.’ This notion of individual accountability is not only emphasized in the language of the article, but also in ThermiVa’s slogan and advertisements. Stephannie C. Roy speaks to women’s magazines and their large role in “acting as guidebooks for women” (p. 463). Women’s magazines are a sizeable media outlet, thus a healthist discourse could enforce the idea of the ‘entrepreneurial self ’ on a large audience (p. 465). Roy’s concept of the ‘entrepreneurial self ’ draws attention to the implicit construction of an individual’s “responsibility to pursue good

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health” (p. 468) and more specifically the media’s “creation of a subject who is interested in taking action to improve oneself ” (p. 465). ThermiVa’s ad “Reclaim. Restore. Revive.” urges women to associate a lack of sexual health and well-being, as well as their flawed relationships, with their ‘demonic’ genitals. ThermiVa’s ad offers a fix to these problems, and makes it seem liberating and empowering with the serene beach background, and use of a happy, carefree model. The language and images used in the marketing of this vaginal-tightening device tells women that with ThermiVa they can alleviate their insecurities, reach sexual freedom and become empowered. This is an example of how mainstream media perpetuates corporate interests and promotes ideas of medicalization while simultaneously causing the ‘need’ for these medical devices. Women believe they are making a liberating and rewarding decision through the purchase of ThermiVa, when in reality the marketing of these procedures acts as a coercive force necessitating aesthetic conformity. Women who are not compliant with the imposed medicalization of their bodies by choosing not to undergo, or not being able to afford these procedures, become responsible for their poor sex lives and lack of self-esteem. For example, a married woman experiencing sexual dissatisfaction might see advertisements and articles for ThermiVa as a way of blaming her for her lack of sexual pleasure, because she does not have a tight enough vaginal canal to enjoy sex. This ignores the possibility of problems in her marriage or outside stresses that are likely larger factors leading to her lack of sexual satisfaction. This also genders heterosexual marital issues like poor sex lives, as being the fault of the woman who is no longer her ‘desirable’ and ‘youthful’ self after experiencing normal hormonal changes and vaginal births.

ThermiVa advertisements do not include the cost of the procedure, or the social factors that contribute to ill-being, poor sex lives, or relationship problems. Especially interesting is the article, where the physicians suggest that a woman’s insecurity around the aesthetics of their vulvovaginal tissues has been “reinforced by the popularity of Brazilian waxing, fashion trends, and media promotion of nude images” (p. 85). Although the physicians, unlike ThermiVa’s advertisements, do recognize society’s role in building this insecurity for women, they do not problematize these influences. Instead of alleviating a woman’s concern by suggesting that every vulva is unique and that the natural changes their vagina will undergo are normal, the physicians in this article move from listing these social factors to recommending the medical devices that continue to perpetuate these insecurities and offer an expensive ‘fix’ toward vulva conformity.

The documentary Orgasm Inc. (2009) summarizes a pharmaceutical race to develop a drug for the ‘female sexual dysfunction crisis’. Orgasm Inc. emphasizes the lack of attention dedicated to the root causes of women’s issues that are now a driving force for corporate capital, as these issues become targets of costly medical intervention. In the documentary, the issue of female sexual dysfunction is immediately medicalized by the pharmaceutical industry, and never investigated as an issue that could be caused by various social factors. This parallels the medicalization of the female genitalia in terms of reconstructive procedures. Both female sexual dysfunction and anatomical insecurity around

female genitalia represent an opportunity to victimize women, and provide coercive power to physicians, who are now capable of recommending means of purchasing femininity as it is constructed by the media.

By critically assessing both the review article and the ThermiVa advertisement, it is apparent that the manipulation of women through the medicalization of socially constructed issues has the power to limit women’s autonomy. The marketing of devices for medical issues that never previously required medical intervention emphasizes the corporate power behind the notion of medicalization. This is especially emphasized in how the review article acted as an endorsement for a costly device that ‘treats’ what they recognized to be an aesthetic insecurity built by societal pressures of conformity. The language used in both the article and the advertisement reflect the stress placed on women to be compliant with superfluous recommendations to correct an issue that could be rooted in much deeper causes. In addition to recognizing the social factors that influence insecurity around a woman’s genitalia, physicians should encourage vulva confidence, and help women to understand that their vulvovaginal changes due to aging, and childbirth are normal. This is not to suggest that devices like ThermiVa, can’t be valuable to women who have severe “functional discomforts and difficulties” (IJWD, 85). However, it is important to be critical of what is labeled as a medical issue, and what requires medical intervention, and to further investigate the underlying causes behind issues that develop into “anatomical concerns” (IJWD, 85) and insecurities.

References: Canner, L. (Producer), & Canner, L. (Director). (November 2009). Orgasm Inc. [Motion

picture]. United States: First Run Features.

Karcher, C. & Sadick, N., (2016). Vaginal rejuvenation using energy-based devices. Inter

national Journal of Women’s Dermatology, Volume Number 2, pages 85-88.

New Procedure Promises Vaginal Rejuvenation Without Surgery. (2015, September 28). In

The Doctors. Hollywood, California: CBC. Riessman, C. K. (1983). Women and Medicalization. The Social Construction of Women’s

Bodies, 14(1), 47-63.

Roy, S. C. (2008). Healthism and the Medicalization of Everyday Life. International

Journal of Health Services, 30(3), 463-477.

ThermiVa [Advertisement]. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://www.leonemedicalgroup.com

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Mis/Readings and the Making of Good/Bad Trans Citizens Reese Carr

While transgender subjectivities have increasingly entered mainstream discourses (Monro & Van der Ros, 2018) the relation of transgender subjects to citizenship and nationhood has also shifted. As queer theory works to make binaries and dichotomies visible, it must then concern itself with the development of certain transgender subjects incorporating themselves into the folds of imperialism. Employing queer temporal logics as outlined by Halberstam (2005) and productive power as outlined by Foucault (1990) we can understand how trans*, particularly non-binary and genderqueer subjectivities, exist within ‘in-between’ spaces wherein there is the possibility to resist homonationalist exceptionalism as conceptualized by Puar (2008). This is evidenced when first considering scholarly developments of homonationalism into conceptualisations of trans-nationalism.

It is first necessary to establish within scholarship, historical discourse and current issues the creation of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ trans subjects grounded in homo/trans- nationalism discourse. By understanding what makes a ‘good’ trans citizen, then the potential for deviant trans citizen subjects to subvert nationalism can be better realized. In this paper, when referencing trans* subjectivities, including gender queer, non-binary and gender non-conforming identities, I refer not only to individuals who may self identity within these categories but also to individuals who perform queered gender and may be perceived as performing queered gender. In this way, I am including a range of gender non-conformity; feminized masculinity, commonly embodied in ‘sissy’ and ‘effeminate’ and ‘flamboyant’, as well as masculine femininities as commonly embodied by ‘butch’ and masculine of centre women.

To be able to understand the place of trans* non-binary and genderqueer subjectivities and experiences within Western Nation-states it is first necessary to outline theoretical understandings of how ideal citizen bodies are shaped and how queer subjectivities are placed within it. Puar, in Out of Place (2008) conceptualizes of homonationalism and sexual exceptionalism as informing the place of gay citizens in affirming and reproducing heteronormative and white ascending discourses to maintain imperialism. By homosexual subjects assimilating into heteronormative narratives and timelines, racial and national norms are reinforced and reproduced (Puar, 2008). This includes the reinforcement of the heteronormative gender binary as a pillar in Western national belonging (Fischer, 2016; Tudor, 2017). As well, homonationalism is discussed in relation to the ascendency of whiteness, the paradoxical tolerance of queer bodies, which includes probable state violence against these populations, allows for the mutual construction of an ideal citizen body and a terrorist body (Puar, 2008).

This foundational theorising has given way to further conceptualisations of how

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been developed by scholars such as Tudor (2017) and Fischer (2016). Transnationalism, as conceptualised by Tudor (2017), draws on the work of Puar, situating minority nationalism within racism, sexism and heteronormativity. This means that Western nationalistic “belonging” for transgender subjects is dependent on the reproduction of heteronormativity, in particular focusing on the reproduction of the gender binary through an active ‘passing’ as cisgender and an invisibility of ‘transness’ (Tudor, 2017). In a similar fashion, trans-patriotism is conceptualized by Fischer (2016) as a devotion to the state and the gender binary, enacted through trans normativity and grounded in whiteness that works to fold transgender bodies into imperialism. All together, homonationalism and its trans specific counterparts can establish how “good” trans* citizens maintain a “passing” status, “leaving gender binaried social norms and structures undisrupted” (Monro & Van der Ros, 2018, p. 60). Furthermore, the creation of ‘good’ trans citizen necessarily creates a ‘bad’ trans citizen (Fischer; 2016; Skidmore, 2011). It is this ‘bad’ trans citizen and the possibilities it holds that is worth further contemplation.

The creation of the ‘good’ transgender or ‘transsexual’ citizen emerged with the very first openly medically transitioned transsexual women in the 1950’s and 1960’s. In Constructing the “Good Transsexual” Skidmore (2011) performs a critical analysis of the media coverage these women received. Through an interrogation of news media, Skidmore (2011) identifies the components necessary for these women to be accepted and respected within cultural discourse. Namely, iterations of whiteness, beauty and domesticity that made up the cult of white womanhood were necessary for any type of positive coverage. In line with efforts to assert patriotism, each of the women who received positive media coverage had a history of military service, which they then distanced themselves from. Each of these women also made explicit denouncement of other types of queerness, reasserting the dominant narrative of gender binarism and heterosexuality as normative. Thus, it is evident how the original creation of what made an acceptable ‘transsexual’ citizen required alikeness to transnormativity; there was an assimilation in established gender roles and heterosexual relationships, the upholding of whiteness, particularly in beauty standards, and history of military service provided proof of interest in the Nation-state and patriotism. In contrast, trans women who were not able to fulfill ideals of whiteness, heteronormativity or nationalism were denoted as mentally ill or a danger to society (Skidmore, 2011). Such themes in conceptualising what trans bodies are legitimised by cultural and nationalistic discourse have proliferated into our present day. Given this foundational history of trans subjects entering into mainstream discourse, it becomes increasingly clear whose bodies are produced as ‘other’ and denounced in order to produce the good, homonormative, queer subject within a Nation (Fischer, 2016).

While the ability for a single subject to address all of the inter-locking power systems which hold up Nation-states is impossible as it would require a transcendent subject always conscious of and ready to subvert normativizing forces (Puar, 2008) it is worth interrogating the possibility for moments of subversion that destabilize hetero/homo/trans -normativity within nationalism. This is most immediately understood as citizen subjects’

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abilities to stay within binary gender which is foundational to concepts of stable gender and sexuality within both heteronormativity and homonormativity. This is saliently exemplified by Monro and Van der Ros’s research on transgender citizenship within Norway, a supposedly socially progressive country in the article Trans* and gender variant citizenship and the state in Norway (2018). In their research, which focused on the experiences of trans subjects within state medical and administrative systems, Monro and Van der Ros posit that maintaining a normative citizen status necessitates staying within gender binary presentations and identification, which directly “mirrors patterns associated with homonormativity” (p. 60, 2018). Consequentially, trans and gender queer subjects who do not conform to normative gender ideologies become second class citizens due to highly institutionalised gender binarism causing serious repercussions in how and which spaces they are able to access.

In Norway, trans non-binary and gender queer individuals are cut off from transitional medical services as well as continuing to be unrecognized within welfare and labour markets which continue to operate on nuclear, heterosexual, familial models (Monro & Van der Ros, 2018). Thus, gender queer individuals directly challenge governmental administrative processes, creating conflict and dislocating themselves into a queer space of in-betweeness, privileged with documented citizenship but not granted with the citizen rights needed for full participation in cultural, political and economic environments (Halberstam, 2005; Monro & Van der Ros, 2018). The state of highly institutionalised gender binarism and the operation of state apparatuses and policies based on the assumption of nuclear, heterosexual, familial model are reflective of Puar’s (2008) analysis of the state of power within the United States when discussing homonationalism. Thus, we can transfer knowledges produced by Monro and Van der Ros (2018) to Western contexts. Monro and Van der Ros (2018) were able to establish the dispelling and dislocation of gender non-conforming individuals from spaces and services that normatively come with citizen rights, mainly the recognition of an individual’s gender within government administration/ documentation as well as access to state and medical services. It is then possible to posit that gender non-conforming individuals are denied access to heteronormative times and spaces. From this point, employing Halberstam’s work on queer time and space, from Queer Temporality and Postmodern Geographies (2005), it becomes evident how trans* non-binary and gender queer subjects come to inhabit queered locality in which subversive interactions may take place, destabilizing heteronormative and nationalistic discourses.

As Halberstam explains, queer uses of time and space develop, at least in part, in opposition to the institutions of family, heterosexuality and reproduction (2005). As well, queer time encompasses as sense of the transient and the fleeting. This conceptualisation of queer time in relation to gender non-conforming bodies brings into question the possibility of an embodied instability of gender. If queer time dictates moments and futures outside of the heteronormative, being non-linear and non-progressive in nature, then a gender non-conforming individual is never fully arriving to an interaction. This idea is

expanded upon by Tudor in Dimension of Transnationalism (2017) through the exploration of how subjectivities are in part produced through interactions with others in which readings and misreadings in relation to gender may take place. If gender queer individuals, like Tudor, are read differently depending on context, in different moments and places, sometimes “read as dyke and/or as a transperson” (p. 22, 2017) then there is never fully an arriving to an interaction with a stable and fully realized gender that can be recognized and is intelligible to others who exist within the heteronormative citizen body. If individuals are sometimes read as one binary gender, then another in another interaction, and then perceived as outside of both in another, then there is no progression in how gender is performed, rather there is continual and repeating gender failures of different types (Fischer, 2016; Halberstam, 2005; Tudor, 2017).

As previously explored, Puar’s (2005) homonationalism and Tudor’s (2017) transnationalism are predicated on the idea that queer identified subjects assimilate and conform to ultimately heteronormative standards as a function of upholding nationalism and Western imperialism. However, it is the instability and unintelligibility of gender queer and non-conforming individuals which create the possibility of directly destabilizing the assumptions of gender and sexuality which underpin this heteronormativity (Fischer, 2016; Tudor, 2017). These moments of subversion occur when gender queer subjects come into contact with governmental apparatuses (Monro and Van der Ros, 2017) as well as in everyday interaction with others (Tudor, 2017). Foucault states that power “is produced from one moment to the next, at every point, or rather, in every relation from one point to another” (1990, p. 93) and that power “is exercised from innumerable points, in the interplay of nonegalitarian and mobile relations.” (1990, p. 94). If we accept Foucault’s (1990) argument that power is produced discursively, then we can interrogate how interactions between citizens works to reaffirm or fail nationalistic discourses. For gender queer subjects, the “process of perceiving and ascribing persons, reading and seeing often get collapsed into each other” (Tudor, 2017, p. 23) which reinforce conventionalised and normalised meanings, so when a misreading takes place there is a momentary subversion of structural knowledges. Tudor (2017) suggests that these moments of subversion and misreading create an abjectification and an in-betweeness as prescripted readings are not given the opportunity for reproduction. Therefore, the gender binary that heteronormativity is reliant upon is subverted and denied by gender queer subjectivities through interactional misreadings. As nationalism and the Nation-state is then reliant on a stable heteronormativity, these misreadings become a threat to normative discourses.

What results then, I propose, is a jamming of gender within the cultural citizen body and momentary subversion of the heteronormative. In an attempt to pre-emptively acknowledge limitations of gender queer subjectivities, Puar and Halberstam have established that there is a thin line between assimilation and resistance in regards to queer subjectivity. Just as gender queer subjects may experience both ‘passing’ and ‘misreading’, it is possible that individual subjects may create moments of subversion due to their dislocation and in-betweeness as well as experiencing moments of assimilation and perform

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normative behaviours. Failures and slippages of gender conformity and intelligibility create a fluid subject which is not easily categorized into governmental administration and documents and challenge cultural heteronormative discourses. As Monro and Van der Ros observed with trans non-binary citizens within Norway, “the institutionalisation of gender binarism can be challenged via claims for gender-diverse citizenship” (2018, p. 70) in which we see how gender non-conformity can challenge these institutions but also risk being pulled into the fold of imperialism and nationalism.

In conclusion, it can be understood how discursive power produces subjects and shapes dominant cultural discourses. Within discursive power, we must take the power of inter-relations into consideration, when discussing transgender subjects, then the possibility of reading and misreading gender becomes a destabilising factor. The instability and subversive possibility of gender queer subjectivities becomes a threat to the nation-state as Western nationalism relies upon a stable understanding of heteronormativity, implicit within it a stable binary understanding of gender. While homo- and trans-nationalism have been able to explore how trans subjects can work to reproduce gender binary narratives and become ‘good’ trans citizens, current issues in governments being able to recognize their gender queer and non-binary citizens allows us to understand how these queer subjects become resistors and subversive to nationalistic discourses.

References Fischer, M. (2016). Contingent belonging: Chelsea Manning, transpatriotism, and

iterations of empire. Sexualities, 19(5-6), 567-586.

Foucault, M. (1990). The history of sexuality: An introduction. Vintage.

Halberstam, J. (2005). In a queer time and place: Transgender bodies, subcultural lives

(Vol. 3). NYU press.

Monro, S., & Van Der Ros, J. (2018). Trans* and gender variant citizenship and the state in

Norway. Critical Social Policy, 38(1), 57-78.

Puar, J. K. (2008). Homonationalism and biopolitics. Out of Place: Interrogating Silences

in Queerness/Raciality, 13-69.

Skidmore, E. (2011). Constructing the” Good Transsexual”: Christine Jorgensen,

Whiteness, and Heteronormativity in the Mid-Twentieth-Century Press. Feminist

Studies, 37(2), 270-300.

Tudor, A. (2017). Dimensions of transnationalism. Feminist Review, 117(1), 20-40.

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Who Protects Black Girls?

An Intersectional Analysis of Racialized Victimization and Gaslighting Utilizing the cases of R Kelly, Bill Cosby and the discourse of Public Lynching Yasmin Ahmed

Introduction

Since October 2017, with the rise of the #MeToo movement, a vast movement against sexual assault and sexual harassment provided global discussions surrounding women’s bodily autonomy, consent and experiences of sexual violence and assault have shaken the world. From personal disclosures to a public outcry about rape culture, there has been a massive and ongoing cultural discourse on sexual violence, and, in particular, holding celebrities and other highprofile individuals accountable to their questionable acts. Taking up digital space to call out gender based violence did not start or end with #MeToo as the collective rallying cry of the interactions of patriarchy in the everyday lives of women. From #YesAllWomen to #WhyIStayed, digital platforms like Twitter provides women and other survivours of patriarchal and gender-based violence a spotlight to share their experiences and to talk back to rape culture. There is power in taking up that space and voicing your experience in a climate that very often does believe or value the experiences of these survivours, however, like most issues in feminist areas, it is always important to be conscious of whose voices and experiences are valued, and who is discarded. All social movements previously stated have been flagged for their lack of intersectionality and not acknowledging the voices and experiences of marginalized and racialized women (Jackson and Banaszczyk 2016: 393). Hence, those spaces do not recognize or discuss the complexities of patriarchal and sexual violence when you layer it with intersectionality. A critical intersectional lens to analyze the positioning of perpetuates and survivours of sexual abuse, this paper works to explore how perpetrators of sexual violence take up racialized victimization and gaslighting in the case of R Kelly and Bill Cosby surrounding the discourse of public lynching.

R Kelly and Bill Cosby are well-known entertainers and have had success on individual roads of entertainment, however, as of late, they are both under fire for the prolonged history of sexual violence, with R Kelly’s sexual assault allegations starting from the early to mid 90s and Bill Cosby’s starting from the mid ’60s (Lokhart 2018). Both men work to silence their victims by settling their cases in court, coerce them by using threats and fear tactics and by claiming these allegations are a form of public lynching and how people do not want to see a successful Black man, and when they do, they try to shut them down (Snapes 2018). This paper takes a deep dive into the significance of the phrase

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“public lynching” in this context, asking 1) how is the discourse of public lynching being taken up (how are they presented) in these case studies; 2) what are the historical significance and the social and political implications of this argument. As part of this analysis, I am arguing how the discourse of public lynching is operating as a form of racialized gaslighting and racialized victimization. This paper investigates how this discourse of public lynching creates substantial harm to black girls by erasing, speaking over and ignoring their complex experiences and asks why they have not been protected and how to move forward to include and highlight marginalized voices and experiences in feminist spaces.

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Theoretical Framework

As this paper explores diverse identities and how they interact with one another and shape the experiences of both victims and perpetrators (age, gender, race, etc.), Crenshaw’s (1989) work on Intersectionality and Violence Against Women of Colour will work to help situate the cases in a theoretical framework. Crenshaw (1989) addresses how representation, policy and structural work to silence and erase the experiences of Black women and other marginalized women. Highlighting the power of applying numerous interacting theories that will deepen our understandings of our social contexts, Dei’s Intersectional Anti-Racism Theory can also expand how we cannot talk about the oppression of one population without acknowledging how other identities interact with said oppression. You cannot separate Blackness and femininity from Black women, so we cannot theorize the experiences while erasing one part of the identity (Dei 2008: 70). It is crucial to understand the complicated way that identity formation materializes. For instance, for Black women, race and gender, both aspects of the identity are constituted and created together, not in a Black + woman = Black woman equation. You cannot separate those identities from one another as experience is designed with both identities.

Crenshaw’s work challenges feminist understandings of womanhood and how one way of understanding womanhood (e.g. Liberal feminist approaches to womanhood) do not represent all forms of womanhood and can act as an exclusionary standpoint (Crenshaw 1989: 140). Parker, Horowitz and Stepler (2017) researched the racialization of masculinity and femininity and found that both Black men and women are more likely to comply with traditional gender roles. Due to stereotypes, racism and sexism in the lives of Black people, the research finds that those groups often have to overcompensate for their gender to receive societal benefits; this is especially true for women. For Black women who exude verbal and physical strength, they are more likely to face scrutiny and harassment. An example of this notion is evident in the representation of Serena Williams, a dominant tennis player, and Michelle Obama, a strong first lady, who were both ridiculed, compared to monkeys and often had their gender questioned (Mohdin 2018). There is substantial harm when you tie blackness to masculine traits. Crenshaw takes this up when she challenges the single-issue framework of discrimination and race discourses to surround the experiences of Black men and gender discourses surround the experiences of white women (1989: 152). To situate Crenshaw’s Intersectional framework in the

discourse of public lynching, we see that the aforementioned race discourses highlight Black men’s experiences. This is incredibly present in the cases of Bill Cosby and R Kelly, as they are both Black men who are targets of a ‘lynching’ to undermine their success, however, a fair amount of their victims are also Black. Hence, their experiences and voices are ignored due to an inter-community discourse that is more likely to protect Blackness before womanness.

Crenshaw’s work is significant to unpack and understand the complexity of racial and gender discourses and how applying her work can deepen our understanding of how structure and culture can play oppressive forces to the experiences of marginalized women, whose voices are already lost in most discourses. Dei’s Anti-Racism theory provides a significant foundational framework when understanding oppression. As this paper focuses on how Black men co-opt historical narratives surrounding sexual violence (ex. Lynching), there is something to be said regarding how public the “public lynching” discourse is. The role of the media and the general public additionally taking up and co-opting that historical narrative by engaging in problematic understandings of lynching, especially in the cases surround Black men and sexual violence. Dei’s paper addresses how complex oppression is and how individuals can be oppressed and also oppressors. In the discourse of sexual violence, it is essential to unpack our understanding of society as binary opposites or extremes (racism is the greatest evil vs sexism is the greatest evil). All our oppression stems from the same factor, white supremacy, capitalism, patriarchy, imperialism and the like all work to support the same people yet oppresses different groups. Hence, the complexity of oppression manifests and creates individuals as oppressed and also oppressors.

Methodology

This research is based on a critical discourse analysis which analyzes cultural artifacts to reveal connections between language, power, and ideology that are present both explicitly and implicitly. The tweets and news articles that were collected were publicly shared online and that referenced or represented the ongoing R Kelly and Bill Cosby cases.

For this project, I also analyzed videos and documentaries that focused on the cases. The news articles were mostly from Vox, Vice, New York Times and Huffington Post, as these provided both opinion and news pieces on the case at hand; they also included written texts, as well as images and videos. This selection method was chosen for this project because it is representative of how audiences come across and engage with the allegations and the responses of R Kelly and Bill Cosby. I acknowledge that the form of data selection is more observational as I am speaking to cultural discourse and primarily a social discussion of these ongoing cases. However, I argue that this approach would apply to the kinds of analysis I am concluding by utilizing such texts and tweets, which are often intended for individuals who have a real interest in racial and gender discourses without necessarily having to work or study in the field. Given that any selection process is biased in some way, I do not believe that this selection process is any more problematic than the alternative, more systematic methods.

The first artifact selected for analysis is a documentary series called Surviving

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R. Kelly released by the Lifetime Network that uncovered the allegations and experiences of the women and girls R Kelly abused. The other artifact is a tweet by @TaranaBurke, founder of the #MeToo movement, regarding the Surviving R. Kelly series and the significance of respecting and listening to survivors share their stories. The third artifact is a CNN video that covered the response by Bill Cosby’s spokesperson regarding his innocence and the ‘execution’ of a great man. The fourth artifact is a Vox cultural article written by P.R. Lockhart entitled The Backlash Against R. Kelly, and Bill Cosby isn’t a “Public Lynching,” Despite What Their Defenders Say which challenges the response of the perpetrators and their defenders that these allegations are only present to “shoot a successful Black man down.”

My analysis consisted of identifying responses to the cases that are utilized, invoked, disrupted or assumed in each of the analyzed artifacts. Because my investigation is based solely on textual and artifactual evidence, I am unable to speak directly to the intended message of the producers, nor to the specific conditions under which these texts were produced. Instead, I understand the meaning of being produced in the space between the artifacts and the reader, through the very act of reading. By conducting an intertextual analysis, I use my existing knowledge of discursive tropes to read and analyze the dominant messages produced by these texts within the broader context of gender, race and sexual violence narratives. As there are numerous factors to consider when unpacking the arguments made to undermine the experiences of the survivours, some elements that I will work to address are media representations/coverage of the cases, the historical context of lynching and what this means today. In addition, I want to highlight shutting down survivours and using the argument of lynching as forms of racialized victimization and gaslighting and understand the implications of these acts.

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Historical Context

“Enslaved people were promised freedom, and what they got was terrorism,” (Stevenson 2018). The history of economic, racialized and colonial violence is deeply-rooted in the foundations of America. There is no denying of the power that white supremacy had regarding its terrorizing and enacting various forms of violence towards Black people.

Lynching is just one form of violence that Black people had to experience that existed to control the mobility, freedom and agency of Black people. Lynching was public murder by hanging. It operated as a tool to subjugate, humiliate and represent that Black bodies are disposable, and to maintain white supremacy. Many lynching victims were Black men towards whom White women created false allegations of sexual assault (Beck and Tolnay 1990: 526). One of the most horrendous cases of these lynches was in the case of Emmett Till. At 14 years old, he was accused of whistling at a white woman, which led him to be kidnapped, lynched and dumped in a river (Burch, Shastri and Chaffee 2019). In 2018, this story was proven to be false (Burch, Shastri and Chaffee 2019). The history of lynching and the power involved regarding who deserves equality, justice and humanity seep deeper in numerous parts of our social structures and institutions. An example of the

ways this manifest is in the construction of the justice system. Lynches are no longer taking place; however, institutionalized racism has taken a form of violence by over criminalizing and over policing Black communities and activities (Lockhart 2018). Hence, there is weight and power to provide context to the racism in our current society. As this paper works to unpack the social and historical implications of being lynched, analyzing the case of R Kelly and Bill Cosby regarding the sexual assault allegations they have committed and how the media coverage has been deemed as ‘a form of public lynching’ by themselves and their representatives is undoubtedly controversial.

By positioning these allegations as a ‘lynching’ on their character and an attack on their career, the capacity to shame and ignore survivours, especially Black survivours, increased significantly (Lumsden, Morgan 2017: 928). The conventional approach to teaching the history of Jim Crow and lynching has focused almost exclusively on the black male victim (and the false sexual allegations white women created). However, such an approach often simplifies and distorts a much more complex history as women and children were also targets of such racialized violence. As women represent a minority of lynching victims, their experiences challenge the notion that lynches were only a tool to harm Black men and protect white women, but the motives and reasoning behind this terrorism are so much more profound as the violence functioned similarly to the lynching of Black men.

Black men and women were robbed of their autonomy, dignity and respect to maintain a hierarchal structure that provides specific populations with more privileges and others with more barriers (Simien 2018). By including an intersectional framework to both understand the creation of identities along with the ways power and privilege manifest, we see the significant importance of acknowledging and learning about the experiences of Black women during the times of slavery, Jim Crow, Civil Rights Movement and currently with sexual assault discourses.

Analysis Racialized Victimization and Gaslighting Both the Bill Cosby and R Kelly cases involve racialized perpetrators and, in the case of R Kelly, his victims as well. Because of this, it is essential to understand how race plays a role in the representation and discourse of said cases. Bill Cosby and R Kelly are co-opting and appropriating the fear and anger than Black people have towards the injustice in the criminal justice system; there is no coincidence that this connection exists as lynching was a mechanism used to regulate black sexuality. As aforementioned, the popular discourse of lynching operates as a means to protect white women’s sexuality from Black men. While most of these allegations were false, they further justified harmful stereotypes that contribute to the criminalization of Black people. According to Statistics Canada, today, Black people make up 2.8% of the general population; however, they make up more than 10% of the population in Canadian prisons (2016). Racialized men also make up the majority of the criminal justice system in Canada (Stats Can. 2016). Hence, Black women are disproportionally forced to keep their experiences of abuse by Black men to themselves as they

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are responsible for keeping the family, the community and the men in the community safe and ‘not a statistic’ (Hill 2019). When Black women do come forward with their experiences, they are often compared to the white women who created false accusations and are seen as traitors to the Black community. Because R Kelly and Bill Cosby are powerful black men, white America (and Canada) want to shut them down, and Black women who come forward with their experience are seen as complicit and perpetrators of this violence (Hill 2019). These arguments shape how victimization and racialization intersect and operate in the lives of Black women. A Twitter user by the name @KimImnottellin tweeted on how people are so quick to ruin a man’s career after one documentary and shamed those who partake in the #MuteRKelly movement. In most cases of sexual violence, especially in public cases involving successful perpetrators, there will always be defenders.

However, when we situate this within the disproportionate rates of Black people incarcerated, along with the long and horrific history of lynching, defending R Kelly and Bill Cosby comes from a different place. Specifically, it often comes from a need to protect (Black) masculinity over Black (femininity), speaking to the intercommunal discourse of protecting and defending Blackness over womennes. By situating the perpetrators of this violence as the true victims, racialized gaslighting quickly takes place. Gaslighting is the ability to manipulate someone by psychological means into questioning their sanity (Duignan 2019). As this is rather common in general sexual assault discourses (ex. Positioning the survivor as too drunk to remember what happened), at the intersections of race, racialized gaslighting exists when targeted stereotypes are invoked to undermine the experiences of the survivors. Often, when the perpetrators are wealthy and successful men, wealth and fame become the forefront of the discussion. Black women are disproportionately seen as ‘gold diggers’ and ‘welfare queens,’ stereotypes that substantially degrade Black women as greedy for money and attention. Many tweets referenced this notion, which primarily operated to shut down the allegations. The racialization of sexual violence is a unique approach to outline and unpack how racism and misogyny exist to undermine, harm and often silence the traumatic and personal experience of Black women.

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The Exclusion of Black Women’s Voices In the case of R Kelly, the majority of his victims were young Black women and girls. Using the notion of ‘being lynched’ by young Black women and girls holds another dangerous element of violence that is being enacted. Despite the majority of Cosby’s victims were not young Black women and girls, both perpetrators are using real fears and critiques that Black people have against the criminal justice system and co-opting that fear along with positioning Black women equal to white women who created false accusations against Black men. Here we can recall the case of Emmett Hill, where lies and false accusations murdered a Black boy, and see how this reality gets extended and manipulated into the idea that white women, and in most cases all women, are liars when they share their experiences of sexual violence, especially at the hands of Black men, but this also includes all men. This speaks to a larger issue our scoiety has regarding binaries such as how our

society links femininity to whiteness and blackness to masculinity. In most race discourses, for example, Black people’s experience with the criminal justice system, the experience of Black men takes up the majority of the discussion. For instance, referencing the early discourse of the Black Lives Matter movement, we often hear of the murder of unarmed Black men; however, we rarely hear stories of Black women and their negative experience with law enforcement and police (Chatelain and Asoka 2015). Through masculinizing Black issues and experiences by only listening and highlighting the voices of Black men, we ignore the real pain we cause Black women.

From the origins of the feminist movement to the origins of the Black Liberation Movement, Black women and Black feminist ideologies were consistent in the creation of these unrests and movements for social justice. However, they are most likely to be the most forgotten in these movements (Brown et al. 2017: 1833). Black women are wedged in the middle of both representations or erased from both narratives, while expected to use their physical, emotional labour to mobilize anti-oppression work that both benefits white women and Black men. Black women like Tarana Burke, the founder of the #MeToo movement to Ida B. Wells, a profound journalist that investigated lynching paved the way for Black men and white women to advocate and challenge harmful discourses that target them.

Moving Forward So, who protects black girls? This was a central question when the launch of the Surviving R Kelly documentary series. In Gilchrist’s work on “Newsworthy” victims (2010), she addresses the missing and murder of Indigenous women and positions it in contrast to the reporting of missing or murder of White women. Her findings explore how in the cases of White women, more intimate details of her and her family are the forefront of the discussion and less so in the reporting of Indigenous women. Gilchrist questions and problematizes who is ‘deserving’ of humanizing and just news coverage. In this paper, as the perpetrators were rich men and the victims were less advantaged, Black women and girls are often neglected in dominant discourse. There is no denying that this outrage did not exist due to the race of these young women. Inequalities exist to perpetuate these oppressive narratives and how they interact in the lives of young women of colour. Hence, there is a need to create work that will advocate for yourself and the needs of your community.

My findings conclude that the problematic discourse of ‘public lynching’ often speaks over and undermines the experiences of Black women. As this paper utilizes Crenshaw’s theory of Intersectionality along with Dei’s Intersectional Anti-Racism theory, there needs to be a greater push to centre black women’s experience in both race and feminist discourses. #Sayhername was created to challenge the co-opting of #BlackLivesMatter and how they centred male experiences (Brown, Summers and Fraistat 2017). #Sayhername and similar groups challenge and highlight the complex ways Black women interact with racism and sexism by speaking directly to the exclusion of Black women, challenge the male-centric experience of Blackness and addresses the erasure of their voices and directly says, we are

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here, and we are not leaving.

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