Rethinking...

... Gender.  Particularly the ways in which my gender operates. It's fluidity, it's expression, and my interaction with it.

... Masculinity. I've been learning a lot about alternative masculiniies and how to find ways to perform masculinity that feels authentic to me.

... Processes. Specifically around (gender and sexuality) formation and making sure I have compassion and patience for folks in their process around identity. Because it is not an easy task, but it is so worthwhile.

Qweerness in the South

Since leaving the South, I've encountered a lot of people who have internalised the stereotypes of my home region--it's full of racists, it's full of backwoods hicks, folks have fucked up politics, people talk with hella thick accents, it's hotter'n hell.

So, like, all of these things are true--as they can be for anywhere people travel to, particularly if they're not from there! But I digress....

There's nothing that makes me raise my cackles faster, or gets a side-eye quicker than when people shit on the South. It's usually Northeasters who think they know something about something cuz they read 'To Kill a Mockingbird' or some shit or a 'liberal' West Coaster who imagines that they can change the mindset of one of the oldest regions of the US by simply getting people to 'relax'.

Fuckers, take that shit somewhere else.

The South is beautiful and complex and nuanced and its rich history is re-lived everyday--in the churches, at backyard BBQs, on front porches, in darkened rooms in the wee hours of the morning.

Qweerness functions in the same way. It's there, as it always has been. But to a 'savour-minded' outsider, it's easy to overlook. Because it's often not white, because it's not middle-class, because it's not 'liberal'. It's Black and Brown, it's working-class or straight up poor, it's in the churches, at the family reunions, it's leaning on fences catching up with neighbors, it's got its toes dug in the sand on a quiet beach. 

Qweerness is everywhere, because the South is hella qweer. Hella.

Performing MAsculinity

I think I've written about it before, but since it's an ongoing process, and this is (one of) my bolos, I'm going to try and exhaust this inexhaustible topic.

There are a lot of Black men in this neighborhood. A lot of young Black men.  And I am again feeling this crushing pressure to perform a masculinity that I have no desire to. I, again, feel pressure to conform, to put myself into a box... but maybe this is just me projecting?

Yeah, that was a pretty weak attempt at self-soothing. I know it's not me. I know that wearing my awesome pink raincoat evokes stares, glares, and side-long looks. I see it and I most definitely feel it. The hardest part is not to internalise it. I am read as a young Black man, probably a young Black gay dude, but I'm not. I'm a guy sometimes, but mostly I'm Aurien and I am having to (again) figure out who I am and who I am in relation to Black men performing 'traditional' masculinity.

I've been avoiding reflecting on this topic because it's such a huge weigh and I'd ratehr just shove it under my proverbial bed and let the dust bunnies dance around it. But I've been thinking about the love I have for Black folks and the ways that I show it. It's one thing to sit on Tumblr all day professing that love and it's another to be present in the spaces where Black folks are, to hang out and connect, to share food, to have those challenging discussions.  That's what I'm interested in getting back to.  And I know part of that means doing a bit of a dance a bit of compromising, a bit of navigation so that I can move into those spaces more easily.

Which means taking the initiative in new situations with Black folks. Which means being patient. Which means being vulnerable and unapologetically who I am.

Maybe that includes trading my pink slicker for a different colour, but I'll do that as a last resort.

Where Are the Gayboys?

Where are the gayboys?

I'm not sure, bt my friend D and I are scheming to figure out how to bring them to us. He's got a new gayboy haircut and he's working on those gayboy shoes. I'm going to start dressing less queer and more gay. I refuse to cut my hair--instead I'll work on my affectations for reeling the cute gayboys in.

Between the two of us, we might need to slow it down a little, cuz the Northwest ain't ready.