In an earlier post, I quoted Kaye Leigh Hagen because her insights rock my socks. She talks about her own experience with the difficult process of discovering her own position of privilege. I really got back into her writing and other writings because I’m hoping to be a part of a panel regarding Sexuality and Librarianship.
But how does normative sexuality manifest itself in librarianship? How can library collections, policies, and programming teach students to deconstruct heterosexuality–to view it as a specific identity, social class, and distinct sexual orientation instead of the default or “natural” class? For example, how might a librarian begin to shape scholarly inquiries by constructing subject guides that separate heterosexuality from Women’s, Gender, and Queer Studies? In other words, I tend to find many helpful guides that organize sexuality studies under a larger umbrella of Sexuality, Gender, Feminist, or Women’s studies; but I’m starting to wonder if those classifications are specific enough–if they isolate heterosexuality enough to be “interrogated” or questioned. I know I take my own heterosexual position in the world and as a librarian for granted–so much so that I don’t feel the need to say: “Oh, yes, I am a heterosexual woman.” Do we even see heterosexuality?
As I write this post, I wonder: what was my main objective in writing it? Why is it important to begin to call heterosexuality into question the way we have done for homosexuality? Why is it important that librarians begin to hold heterosexuality accountable for itself? Quite simply: “mean-spiritedness.” Is that a word? (Tack “ness” onto the end of any kenning and you have a word.) There is a stigma attached to being non-hetero. In fact, aligning yourself with gay activism entitles you to bare the stigma(ta) of gayness. I’ve felt it. Actually, people have questioned my sexuality because I “post all that feminist stuff” everywhere and stuff. (Oh, yeah, it’s assumed that gay and feminist are synonymous.) People have questioned my own sexuality because I support gay rights, post all that feminazi shit everywhere, and say “dude.” So I’ll ask again: what is the point of thinking about the implications of sexuality as it relates to being a librarian? I mean, why bother?
A quoted quote from Mundane Heterosexualities: From Theory to Practices:
heterosexuality’s naturalization means that it is rarely acknowledged as a sexuality, as a sexual category or identification (4).
I basically flipped when I read this because hell would freeze over if I could articulate such a complex idea in such an eloquent way. My quick reaction?: librarianship, among many socially responsible and conscious things, needs to do the thing that it so rarely does: acknowledge heterosexuality as “a sexual category.” A separate category….just as separate as homosexuality. Librarians have to be aware of how sexual orientation is socially constructed–aware of how sexuality is normalized and taken for granted. Library collections will only be as diverse and as imaginative as the librarians who develop them. Maybe librarians who work closely with other teachers and academic departments can start talking about these important distinctions. Maybe, in addition to teaching Gender, teachers could teach 4 months of Heterosexuality. People could even just start saying the word “heterosexuality” more often. In fact, people, when asked, would self-identify as hetero. (I’ve started doing this….try it. It weirds people out. If you act kind of nervous before you say, “well, I have something to tell you: I’m a heterosexual,” it creates positive awkward tension that we can all benefit from.)
There’s a lot to be said about “naming” things, about bringing them out of the silent backgrounds where they too often wait, unrealized. Librarians could create programs and resources that really aim to realize hetero culture as a sexual category. Try saying heterosexual a lot. If you find yourself at a party, and you’re pretty sure you’re not even politically gay (as Parker Posey’s character is in Drunks), say: “hi, I’m ________. Wait awhile and develop a natural conversation with someone you trust. You might tell them at the party. Maybe even wait several years to cultivate a lasting friendship. But don’t make assumptions about others’ perceptions of your straightness.