Queer Theory Carries a Low Vibrational Energy
Why I Can't Hang with Colonizer Apologists
I recently attended a screening and discussion of the Watermelon Woman, a 90’s black lesbian film written and directed by Cheryl Dunye.
Having already seen the Watermelon Woman a couple of times, I didn’t really care to watch the film again. I purely attended this event for the community vibes. I was hoping to meet new people and enjoy an interesting discussion about a lesbian film that is refreshingly void of gender ideology.
The audience was a diverse crowd of mostly Gen-Zers, and the panel discussion featured two millenial black female archivists.
Given the youthful demographic alone, I had a feeling that queer confusion would be introduced into the discussion, and I was right.
The panelists brought their expertise on excavating black history through archival materials, and most of the audience’s questions were related to identity—of course, affirming the validity of transgenderism.
And ironically, at some point—the panelists brought up Pauli Murray.
One panelist said that she doesn’t know which pronouns to use when speaking about Pauli Murray. “Was Murray transgender, or nonbinary?” The idea of Murray being a woman was not included in her array of possibilities. Either way, she didn’t know. So, when it came to pronouns, she used none.
But even that choice to use no pronouns was criticized by the Pauli Murray Institute (the cite of Murray’s childhood home)—because they insist on posthumously framing Murray as a nonbinary trans person.
“Language is imperfect” one of the archivists shrugged.
And this is the thing…people, especially women—are always acting like this is a complicated issue when it’s not.
Erasing a historical figure’s pronouns while saying that language is imperfect and limited—is a way of taking yourself out of the hotseat to have to think and engage critically with the work you’re already doing, and the communities you’re serving.
And there is something about that which is not only intellectually disagreeable to me—but misaligned on some deeply personal levels.
This event really drove home the fact that our generation is really stuck in a box in terms of their social and political framework.
Like...I knew that already.
But leaving my house and entering real spaces where I am exposed to people who ask genuine questions through a lens that already blindly accepts these spoonfed ideas as truth…while acting like they’re free-thinkers…without even being conscious that they are staunchly following a very specific organized religion...
Meanwhile, I sit there knowing that there’s no “safe space” for anyone to push back…
Knowing that their fragile beliefs are abundantly cushioned by social police officers and fierce overlords with real institutional power, who intimidate dissenters into silence…
I was reminded of why I feel so alienated from these spaces to begin with.
Because it’s not just that I disagree with the politics of gender ideology.
It’s deeper than politics. It’s an energy.
It’s a way of being that I don’t resonate with.
Spinelessness, conformity, and blind followership is corny as fuck. It’s not cool.
Even when it’s done within a subculture.
It is a low vibrational frequency.
And trying to pass it off as something more elevated than that—is even cornier.
I see right through it, and it turns me off.
While I understand this mentality from top to bottom, I can’t relate to it.
And being around it drains my energy really quick.
Because I’ve spent years expanding into my own inner-sovereignty. I’ve walked through fire, experienced the pain of isolation, and rebuilt again—just to protect and preserve my ability to think and create freely, and be loved for exactly who I am.
Socializing in spaces that carry this mentality, asks me to stuff all of my expanded state down into a tight little box, slap on a label on it that doesn’t reflect reality, and mute all of my vivid colors. Even if it’s just for a couple of hours.
Being in a space where I am looking at people on stage with similar qualifications as I…and knowing that I will never have the privilege to be on that very stage and share my own authentic gifts…is draining.
These are not spaces that support my self-actualization, and they are spaces where I will always, at best, only be appreciated on a surface level.
And there is grief there.