Notes on Some Especially (Not So) Subtle Dissatisfactions

The first time I met fear was at the end of someone else's fist. In my face

B     A     M

That was before I knew fear of difference fueled hatred of difference. The second time I met fear was at the end of my fist.

In their face

B     A     M

See, I earned these cuts and bruises.

Because this queer bashes back.

I now meet this fear of me of us of difference with

Rage

A pre-emptive, offensive position

That refuses to feign surprise at the violence of racialized cisheterosexism.

Because my rage is as pervasive and relentless as its ideological grasp.

My rage is a renewable resource generated by an endless supply of critical love. Informed by Rachel Griffin, I understand love as a critical and "humanizing means to render the invisible visible, offer compassion when there seems to be none, and extend empathy beyond previous boundaries."¹ To render the invisible visible is to recognize and affirm the pervasive violence that organizes mundane life and that appears normal or natural. And it is to recognize the structural means that determine which particular bodies are granted particular degrees of access to particular cultural resources in particular contexts. For instance, whiteness is understood as a "strategic rhetoric"² that works to "construct and maintain a dominant White culture."³ Zeus Leonardo suggests conditions of white supremacy, rather than skin color, are what enable white privilege.⁴ As a result, one need not be white to gain white privilege; rather one need work toward securing white supremacy (i.e., via "discourses, communication, and cultural performances"⁵ of whiteness) to gain access to white privilege.⁶

So, critical love for folks of color can include recognizing and affirming how (not so) subtle manifestations of racist violence organize mundane life rather than denying or gaslighting them out of existence. Critical love for queer and trans folks can include recognizing and affirming how (not so) subtle manifestations of cisheterosexist violence organize mundane life rather than denying or gaslighting them out of existence. And critical love for queer and trans folks of color can include concomitantly recognizing and affirming how (not so) subtle manifestations of racialized cisheterosexist violence organize mundane life rather than denying or gaslighting them out of existence. However, although the apolitical diversification of higher education has included increasing inclusion of queer and trans subjectivities, these inclusionary gestures have largely benefited queer and trans subjects who more readily acquiesce to codes of whiteness—I implicate myself in this charge. In turn, those queer and trans subjects who navigate intersections of racist exclusion know well that critical love that fails to account for white supremacy will always already perform whiteness. Indeed, racism implicates gender and sexuality. And to resist the whiteness that enables queer and trans "advances" and "successes" requires rage. A rage that refuses to engage the codes of "civility" that homonormative and transnormative subjects draw on for their recognition as respectable citizen subjects informed by scripts of whiteness. To be clear, rage is an affective response to the material conditions on which racist cisheterosexism depends.⁷ As a result, rage emerges as an onto-epistemic that refuses whiteness in queer and trans space and time.

To that end, and in the spirit of critical love, I am here to share notes on some especially (not so) subtle dissatisfactions against which I continue to rage. This serves as both a means of affirmation for those navigating similar ends and as a call to be and to do better as critical pedagogues, scholars, activists, and artists. The remainder of this article is organized around three notes engaging "preferred" gender pronouns, ally theatre, and the politics of citationality. Haikus open each of these notes followed by performative reflections and processing. My intent for using haiku regards my desire to implicate the point while punctuating my (not so) subtle dissatisfaction in a focused and playful manner. I close the article with a final and brief note. With that, I invite you to join me in processing some especially (not so) subtle dissatisfactions.

A note on "preferred...