The Problem of "We"

This will probably sound more like a blog post for a sociology class, but I feel like our studies on queer theory have such close ties to sociology that I’m going to post anyway.

As we discussed in class today, I’m really struggling with the recurring “we” theme. At the very beginning, Butler’s questioning of “women as a subject for feminism” on the very first page of Gender Trouble seemed to really hit home for me.  How could we possible group together such massive collection of disparate individuals and their respective identities into a concise, all-encompassing label?  While I understand entirely that this collective mass is clearly effective in garnering social and political power to change (or at least make strides towards progress) the oppressive conditions of an otherwise oppressed class/category, it just seems like the benefit of “we” seems short term.  When constructing and defining this political body, it’s inevitable that the individual identity gets sacrificed for the greater good, but it seems like this sacrifice will only come back later to undermine the movement itself. 

Take today’s example in Chapter 5 of An Archive of Feelings. The masses of those affected by AIDS were indeed secular – gay men and African-Americans in particular.  And ACT UP created this coalition whereby those affected by AIDS and HIV+ joined arms for greater political mobility.  But what about each individual’s own identity, whether it be as a lesbian drug addict who happened to be HIV+ or a high-femme activist who was shamed by her own identity?  What about Eve Sedgwick’s idea that all it takes is a compulsion to identify with queer to be queer… that somehow, this revolutionary idea was less convincing from an individual that otherwise fit the expected, heteronormative American dream?   Or how the most convincing and supportive activists in ACT UP would be looked down upon, less effective if they were to partake in hetero pleasures?  It seems ironic that the plurality of “we” can become an oppressive singular identity.

Don’t get me wrong, I agree with Sedgwick, but I don’t live in some fantasy world, wishing that everyone could just accept each other without categorization or expectations. Like I said, I understand the need for political and social mass in order to incite change.  But I guess this post is just me, trying to work through these tensions I feel in regards to any type of movement or collective “we.”  It’s something I’ve struggled with for quite some time.  In a similar matter of identity politics, I feel very strongly about the pan-continental term of “Asian-American” that is so readily applied to me.  My black hair, smaller eyes, yellow-toned skin are also irrevocable differences that will forever mark me as the “perpetual foreigner.”  And, like the AIDS movement, an Asian-American movement started in the mid-eighties in a quest dig out of the political margins to which ethnic minorities are often relegated. I don’t, in any way, shape, or form, want to minimize the mortality and pure significance of the AIDS movement by comparing it to Asian-American identity politics, but there are similar traits of erasure and denial that run through both. In the journey towards progress, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese and other ethnicities that shared a similar physical typecast were all suddenly Asian-American.  What is Asia really?  Why is Asian-American only coined for Southeast Asia, but not India, Russia, Kazakhstan?  Who decided all of this?  The differences and nuances between each country are astronomical, and our individual immigrant heritage was sacrificed in favor of progress.  So where does this leave me, who am I?  An Asian-American of feminine persuasion?  An American woman with Vietnamese heritage?  A woman?  A supporter of “queer” orientations, or perhaps more likely, queer myself? 

I draw this comparison, because I felt a similar sentiment in some of Cvetkovich’s testimonials, where individual identity is forfeited for a greater cause, where activists were ashamed and/or secretive about their own sexuality.  Can "we" ever get to a point where identities aren't so politicized?  Likely not, but I suppose we can keep working towards more expansive, accepting modes of identifying ourselves and others?  There’s obviously no answer to any of my questions, and I suppose I’m not really looking for one.  I’m just trying to reconcile this need I feel to recognize so many more facets of identity that go beyond the restrictions of discernable traits, whether physical, behavioral, or other.  I have no idea as to how this could realistically be facilitated, but I also have no idea how I could ever be okay with being relegated to choosing one, or even a few, comprehensive categories in which my true individual identity could fit.

- terese

Works Cited

Butler, Judith Butler. Gender Trouble, Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. Routledge Classics, 1990. Print.

Clare, Eli. "Stolen Bodies, Reclaimed Bodies: Disability and Queerness." Public Culture, Volume 13, Number 3, Fall 2001, pp. 359-365. Print.

Cvetkovich, Ann. An Archive of Feelings: Trauma, Sexuality, and Lesbian Public Cultures. Duke University Press. 2003.