I’d Like to See…

There’s a Tumblr blog that my friend follows and reblogs, thereby making it show up on my News Feed. This blog, owned by someone named G, involves lots of photos and animated GIFs of sex – the kind that frames as an artistic and intimate thing. In other words, softcore porn that seemed nice to look at.

However, upon when I opened it up and skimmed through, I noticed something interesting. All the sexual images that bombarded me were of men and women doing activities of the sexual nature. Wait. Men and women. Only men and women. As I scrolled down into hands and hair and such, I realized each photo always contained white heterosexual couple. Being a Tumblr troll, I sent a message to the creator of this blog in question. I asked why a blog that celebrated the intimacy of sex focused exclusively on heterosexual sex.

The response? “Cause this blog is about my relationship and I’m in a heterosexual relationship, sorry.”

As a sort of open-letter response to you, G of Tumblr, I would like to say that there’s a lot more to love and intimacy than what you see in the photos you post. It’s not a cliché yet, so I’ll say it: Love = love. Rethink the message that your photos send. Just because you’re in a heterosexual relationship wouldn’t make your blog any less relevant or legitimate. You’re in a good position to make a small dent in what other people see. Therefore, I think you have a vague responsibility to better associate great sex the way it is normally espoused in marketing with LGBT community members.

his translates to what I feel is an issue in media. Most people still seem less comfortable to show and see the sight of two men kissing or two women kissing, or any other combination of non-heterosexuals. LGBT characters themselves don’t make a huge part of media. In addition, I think you’d be hard-pressed to find any physical sexuality in mainstream television shows. Overall, I don’t think we’re done being afraid of portraying LGBT characters in media. So that leaves us with a set of archetypes that are fairly straightforward (gayforward) and unidimensional.

With that in mind, I just hope everyone notices and thinks more that our contemporary images of love, romance, intimacy, and sex don’t yet apply to LGBT relationships of equal magnitude.

Should Have, But Didn't

Since many of you don’t know me too well, allow me to make a belated introduction. Hey, I’m Mary Claire, but about three quarters of the people I know, including my parents, call me “MC.” I am a chocoholic, and a not-so-closeted brony. I like playing sports, particularly roller blading, and my biggest strength and weakness as a person is the same thing: I don’t put up with things I think are wrong…well, usually.

I have been attending universities for some time now, and I am of the persuasion that prospective student weekends serve a double purpose to the administration: they not only encourage high school students to apply to the university, but they provide entertainment for the oftentimes sadistic administration by driving the current students nuts. The C1 was more packed than usual (if that’s even possible), I gave directions to way too many people to the Duke Chapel (it’s totally not that huge building you can see from almost everywhere on West Campus) and, for the first time ever, witnessed an actual, honest-to-Krzyzewski line form at Alpine. Perhaps if finals week wasn’t lurking around the corner, I would be amused by the antics of the p-frosh and their parents, but I fail to find myself entertained. I can’t help but wonder, though, if that was due to a recent event.

These days, listening in to the conversations of the p-frosh on the bus is unavoidable, considering we’re all packed so tightly together. Usually, their conversations sound a lot like o-week discussions I had with everyone: “Hi! What’s your name? Where do you go to school? What’s your major?” However, there are some more interesting ones. One lost kid started talking to me about her pet ferret, after I let it slide through a casual conversation on the C2 that I had a guinea pig, though I wish I could say all of those sorts of discussions were pleasant. Long story short, I had to resist the urge recently not to turn around and clock two p-frosh who wouldn’t stop using the words “fag” and “gay” as derogatory terms.

Looking back, I sort of wish I did it. It would have been an unforgettable lesson for them in terms of what’s not okay to say, something that will undoubtedly serve them well if they do decide to go to Duke. Also, I wouldn’t have backed down from my policy of not tolerating any bull. I could have not-so-subtly shown off my LGBT Center button. I could even have just told them that it wasn’t polite to do that and that college called for maturity beyond that required in high school. I could have addressed that exchange in a number of ways, but shockingly for my standards, I didn’t say anything. They got off the bus, none the wiser about the mental battle I had just fought.

I’ve thought about this again and again, and nothing comes to mind. Maybe you can answer the question that I can’t answer for myself. I’m seriously stuck, and can’t think of any good explanation. Maybe you’ve had to ask yourself the same thing before. So what’s the question? Here it is:

If I’ve acted before, why didn’t I act this time?

A Marriage Between Church and State?

Like just about every other social justice issue, it seems that the issue of gay marriage and gay rights has become a political one. It is, of course, disappointing, to say the least, when issues of social justice become politically polarized, because it automatically means they can’t be viewed objectively. Just as the GOP seems to be opposed to practically every pro-environmental piece of legislation that comes to vote (not to mention that they are staunch advocates of a lot of anti-environmental legislation), the issue of gay rights is similarly polarized by political party lines. However, unlike the former, the ethics of the anti-gay rights argument is founded not in logic, nor science, nor even economic interest, but rather in religious texts, traditions and beliefs.

I am infuriated that this continues to entertain this debate in the legislature becaus from the ethical argument that everyone should be treated equally under the law and by his/her peers, it conflicts with founding ideologies of our nation. The ideology I want to focus on is an idea inherent in the First Amendment. Though not explicitly stated in the Bill of Rights – but rather quoted from a letter written by then President Thomas Jefferson in 1802 regarding the function of the First Amendment – we believe in a “wall of separation between church and state.” Almost a century and a half later this ideology was upheld in court when a 1947 Supreme Court ruling (Everson v. Board of Education) held that a separation of church and state means “that there should be virtually no contact between religious ideas and government activity.” But 200 years after Jefferson’s explanation and over 60 years since the Supreme Court case, we’re still fighting to keep religious ideas out of legislation.

With regard to fight to legalize gay marriage, I have yet to find someone whose opinion against this legalization is not grounded in (Judeo-Christian) religious belief and, as I’m sure you’ve heard before, this belief is grounded in one verse: Leviticus 18:22, which is typically understood to denounce homosexual acts in some way, shape or form. Before this blog post I would have, without hesitation, told you that it explicitly denounces a male from sleeping with another male and would have made the argument that this is ridiculous because we merely need to look at male and female anatomy to acknowledge that this is, indeed, impossible. But after doing a little scooping around, I fell upon a webpage (Religioustolerance.org) with different interpretations of Leviticus 18:22. I’m now beginning to think, “It’s no wonder people are using this verse as an attack against gay marriage legislation because some of these translations are ‘interpretation[s] that most closely reinforce…initial biases about the Bible and homosexual behavior.’” Translations of this verse range from “Thou shalt not lie with a man as with a woman: it is [an] abomination” (English Standard Version) to “Homosexuality is absolutely forbidden, for it is an enormous sin” (Living Bible). The latter, of course, translates a preconceived notion of morality, as the Living Bible translation extends the phraseology also to condemn sex between two women, whereas the first makes no mention of women’s sexual exploits. Now I’m no biblical expert, but I know enough Hebrew to know that these two translations absolutely cannot originate from the same text. Which brings me to this point: if, for a moment, we ignore our ideology that bars religious ideas in government activity, if we can’t even decide how properly to translate this verse – if we don’t even understand what it’s trying to tell us – how can we validate it as an argument against legalizing gay marriage?

If we run with this argument – that the Torah (Old Testament) forbids homosexuality in some way, shape or form, therefore we should write this into law – why do we only choose to continue to try to enforce this one verse? Our religious morals certainly do not pertain only to the issue of homosexuality. As a society, we look down upon, if not condemn, adultery, though I doubt you’d find many supporters for the ancient law that reads “the man that committeth adultery with another man’s wife, even he that committeth adultery with his neighbour’s wife, the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death” [sic] (Leviticus 20:10, King James translation). Or for dealing with a difficult teenager, I doubt you’d find many who think this law is just: “If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, which will not obey the voice of his father, or the voice of his mother…then shall his father…bring him out unto the elders of his city…And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die” (Deuteronomy 21:18-21, King James translation). If, in agreeing that many of these laws are outdated, to say the least, and border on ‘cruel and unusual,’ why do we still maintain that ancient laws about homosexuality pertain to modern society any more than ancient laws about justice for unruly sons or unfaithful spouses?

I am Conservative Jewish and my experience has lent me to believe that I am more observant than most of my Conservative peers (note: Conservative here means Conservative Jews), yet I don’t believe in applying ancient law to a society that is so vastly different in practically every way from ancient times. Is this text that speaks out against men lying with other men in my religious history? Yes, but that does not mean I want to see this translated into law.

The First Amendment protects my right to freely exercise my own religion and my own religious beliefs and my right to be protected from “an establishment of religion.” I think I’ve made it clear that the way I interpret this ancient text is very different from the way others interpret it. I don’t believe – with regard to the Constitution or otherwise – that another’s religious beliefs should be forced on my lifestyle or anyone else’s. If you don’t believe in the institution of gay marriage then my advice is simple: don’t marry someone of the same sex. But don’t tell me that just because your religious preachings tell you not to marry someone of the same sex means that your belief should legally apply to everyone, regardless of their own religious ideologies.

As it stands, we live in a country that, historically at least, believes that religious doctrine should not be translated to law. Unless a logical argument, independent of religious bias, can be made, the arguments against legalizing gay marriage should be voided and the issue kicked out of Congress and off the ballots, because I don’t want to live in a state –or a country for that matter – that thinks religious ideas should be made into secular law, even if the decision is determined democratically.

What's up, "You Guys"?

I’ve used the term “you guys” to address groups of people my entire life, regardless of the gender-makeup of these groups. This is just something I’ve grown up doing, so what’s the big deal, right? Well, imagine how you would feel if you’re a man in a group with only other womyn and someone says, “Hey gals, what’s up?” You’d probably be pretty confused, and understandably offended. Imagine, then, how a female would feel in a similar situation being referred to as “you guys”? She may feel marginalized or left out. I admit, most people, womyn included, probably don’t think twice about using “you guys” to address groups of people, but I’ve heard individuals who care about this matter very deeply. See this article for a great explanation of what I’m talking about.

After hearing many womyn tell this story, I realized that I’ve unknowingly been part of the problem for years. I would certainly not identify as a bad person, but that doesn’t mean that I never make mistakes. It bothers me that my casual use of this phrase may have made other people feel left out.

I participated in a “My Truth Panel” a few weeks ago, and cringed each time a member of the audience addressed the panel as “you guys”, especially considering that, out of the 6 members of the panel, only 2 of us were male. What was worse, everybody in the audience was female. Even after I brought this matter up at the event, I heard audience members address us as “you guys” at least another three times.

Clearly, changing something that is so widely accepted is an uphill battle, but I think it’s still worth fighting for. Obviously, I would never tell someone to alter their speech for my own sake—or worse, censor themselves—but I would ask each of you who reads this to step back and think about how your choice of language makes other people feel when they hear it. I challenge you to use a phrase like “you all” or “y’all” to address a group of people in which there is at least one female (or in which there is someone who might not conform to traditional gender norms!). I know it’s hard to change something so seemingly innocuous, but sometimes it’s the small changes that can really add up to something meaningful.

Significance

Dear Guy in my Statistics Class, 


Okay, so this is slightly weird to be writing a public letter to you, but here goes: I like you. I think you're very attractive and, from what I've gathered in class, quite intelligent. Yet, I don't even know you. Frankly, I'm not even sure what your name is. But more importantly, I don't even know if you're attracted to men (which, I suppose is the important thing for me). Honestly, I'd just like to get to know you better; you seem like a really nice person, but given our zero previous interactions, I feel that trying to start up a conversation with you this late in the semester would be very awkward. I don't even know if you know who I am, but if you do, say hi to me, so that socially-awkward me doesn't have to and then further embarrass myself. 


My letter presents the following set of hypotheses.

H0: He is not attracted to men.
Ha: He is attracted to men.

In statistics, we can either accept the null hypothesis or reject it in favor of the alternative hypothesis. The objective is, based on statistically significant evidence, we would be able to arrive at the correct conclusion. However, it is very possible to come to a false positive or a false negative conclusion. In the case above, I risk making a type I error, which is the case where I reject the null (and conclude that he is attracted to men) when the reality is that the null is true (he isn't attracted to men). So let's say I were to act on this. The end result is pretty clear: I would just make a fool of myself. I would hope that this would be the last interaction I have with this guy, and then I would try and get over the trauma of what I did. I can also make a type II error, which is the situation where I fail to reject the null (and say that he is not attracted to men) when the reality is that the null is false (so he is attracted to men). So in this case, I would just go about my daily life and nothing would happen on my end, when there potentially could have been something, but I was too afraid and too cautious to start the conversation. I don't know how people discuss sexuality from a "tabula rasa" standpoint of first meeting a guy, but I am curious, if people want to provide insight for me, please leave a comment. My "gaydar" is and has been dysfunctional for about two years, so I can't use that, and even if I did have good gaydar, I don't know how I would then approach a total stranger in this current context. However, given no current methods to test these hypotheses without building up a lot of courage and engineering a conversation, I resort to extrapolation.

I've been faced with this situation many times before, except for the fact that I've known the people that I'm attracted to, and I've known that they are gay (okay, so it's the exact opposite?). And given this, I've never had the courage to ask somebody out. In terms of subtle flirting and "signs", I'm pretty good at that, but it's never a conscious choice and I never then ask the guy out. I often fear asking guys out because of the underlying context of dating and hypersexualization of gay relationships, but that's another post. I also just lack the self-confidence I need to ask somebody out. I don't know where everybody is getting their confidence from, but I would like some leftovers, if possible. So given these associations I have with dating and asking people out (and lack thereof), I correlate this to the situation above, and risk making a type II error, which seems like a better option to me than making a type I error.

Using prior evidence in order to motivate my future directions on relationships is perhaps not the healthiest option, but using a Bayesian framework, this seems to be the most natural approach. However, this is what I've been doing. I don't seem to understand how people can just make friends/relationships with strangers so quickly; perhaps it's just my introversion, but even in a natural setting for me such as the classroom, I've often met my best friends. I don't want to be shy Cameron who never meets other people, but I feel that is the only option for me to maintain my sanity.

And then there is the matter of what makes a result significant. What outcome would I want for the efforts of my experiment or trial to be worth the cost I put into it? If that is a relationship or just meeting a new person and making a new friend, then perhaps the ends justify the means. But how likely will this be the case?

"God is Love"

If there’s one thing that rarely gets much love on this blog, it’s the Bible.  Now, perhaps that’s understandable—Leviticus 18 tends not to get too many in the LGBT community excited for what follows (Leviticus is, admittedly, also the end of many Christians’ attempts to read the Bible cover-to-cover). And, for the LGBT community, what follows doesn’t seem to be particularly “Good News.”  Romans 1, 1 Corinthians 6, 1 Timothy 1 don’t seem to contain the affirmation we generally expect in the LGBT community.

I was recently directed to a very interesting discussion of Scripture and homosexuality.  Matthew Vines, a student at Harvard who came out his sophomore year, has spent the last two years researching Biblical exegesis on this topic.  In a recent presentation, he discusses the passages in the Bible he finds to be cited most often in Scriptural arguments against homosexuality. After exploring each one of them in turn, he [spoiler alert] concludes that none of them can be used as arguments against a loving, committed, and monogamous same-sex relationship.

While the Catholic Church would end up disagreeing with Matthew’s conclusion, one of the things I love about his discussion is how it places the Scriptural passages he discusses in context.  One of the tenets of the Catholic faith is that any Scriptural passage must be interpreted within the Tradition as well as within its overall Biblical context.  While Matthew, being Protestant, doesn’t exactly discuss a ton of Catholic Tradition, his presentation does a great job of contextualizing the passages, and is definitely worth a watch.

One of the things that surprised me in Matthew’s presentation was not necessarily what he chose to include.  Rather, I found it very interesting one Biblical quote that he didn’t mention. It’s perhaps the passage that I have seen most quoted around this community: 1 John 4, “God is love.”  It’s an absolutely beautiful quote that is central to the Christian understanding of God and love both.  It is also a quote that is often used in an argument against the Church’s teachings on homosexuality.  The argument generally runs something along the lines of, “I can’t imagine a God who is love asking me to deny such a huge part of myself whom He created and called good.”

I think it’s particularly appropriate to talk about this argument today, because today is the day Christians celebrate Good Friday—the day we commemorate the death and crucifixion of Jesus on the Cross.  What does Jesus being tortured to death have to do with an argument predicated on “God is love,” you may ask?  Well, everything.

In my previous post, I asked us to reflect on what we mean when we say “love.”  When St. John writes, “God is love,” he specifically is referring to agape—Christian love. John Paul II, in his Theology of the Body, teaches that love is a “sincere gift of self.”  The ultimate expression of this gift of self is ultimately found on the Cross.

When a Catholic looks at a crucifix, (s)he sees this paradigmatic act of love.  “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13).  Christian love is a sacrificial love that looks beyond oneself.  It is a gift of oneself without thought to whether another “deserves it.”  Christian love is to “do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you” (Luke 6:28). 

This is why the Church looks with confusion on an argument that seems to say “God is love, therefore gay sex.” This argument makes multiple assumptions.  It rightfully assumes that we were ultimately created in order to love.  It wrongfully assumes that love necessarily entitles one to sex.  It wrongfully assumes that if I don’t have sex, I can’t love.  It wrongfully assumes that to deny one of my desires is necessarily to deny God’s ultimate plan.  Jesus said,  “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me” (Mark 8:34).  To derive from love a right—any right—seems counterintuitive to the love we are reminded of so clearly on Good Friday.  Where is entitlement in Jesus on the Cross?

God’s love on the Cross was all about giving everything when nothing was deserved.  That’s understandably unpopular in this world, and it’s a teaching that, admittedly, Christians often don’t live up to.  After all, today is the day we remember that when Jesus came preaching this message, we all rejected Him and tortured Him to death.  However, that does not change what love means, and it does not change that Christians are called to this understanding of love.

No wonder, with all the Scripture Matthew Vines used to argue against the traditional interpretation, he didn’t mention the argument from “God is love.”  That sentence contains so much of the Christian message. Yet, it cannot be taken out of context and argued that that sentence necessarily contain sex.  Today, we are reminded that love is about so much more than sex. 

I hope everyone has a blessed Good Friday and a happy Easter.