Feminism and Lesbianism: A Positive Perspective

For too many lesbians, regardless of the security derived from self-acceptance, 'openness about their sexuality at work or at home, relationships or general outlook, there remains an underlying sense of rage. We are all aware of the resultant stress of oppression and persecution that accounts for much of the alcoholism, drug addiction and emotional instability existing within the lesbian community. A sense of rage is necessary to survive society's indignities against us. But unbridled anger is negative energy wasted on feeding itself, or misdirected into selfdestructive acts. We need to learn to understand our anger and how to make effective use of it, to harness its energy in a positive manner, not just for the sake of our personal health and sanity, but as a means of political leverage.

In the process of examining my own anger I have gained some insights that I wish to share here, not as a scholarly treatise, but as personal experience. My initial "coming out" process took three years to reconcile my personal fears, frustrations and anger. It was a lonely and at times emotionally exhausting struggle. Once resolved, it marked the beginning of a progression in my lesbian/self-concept from a personal sexual preference, to an identity encompassing the lesbian community where I lived, to an expanded sense of self as part of a socio-political body. That in turn has led to my recent emergence "out of the closet, into the streets" in the Cleveland women's community, and an active political involvement on campus and as a writer and performer. I feel a strong affiliation with the women here, and a broader sense of solidarity and sisterhood than ever before. Ironically, it is that sense of solidarity and heightened political awareness that has increased my sense of oppression and indignation, so that six years later my frustration and anger have erupted anew with much greater force and unpredictability. That is not an uncommon pattern.

How often have women, as a result of expanding self-awareness, emerged from their cocoons of in-

security and submissiveness only to discover new frustrations with their collective status as society's “second sex”? An individual may be able to take action to break free from her own circumstances of personal oppression, but can she escape her oppression as a woman on a cultural and political level? Is the end result of a raised consciousness only to be realized in negative terms? And if so, where does that leave us?

One inherent danger I have discovered in the "collective frame of mind" is a tendency toward singular thinking and closed mindedness. It is too easy al times to make the quantum leap from frustrations felt on a personal and communal level to an unqualified hatred of individuals as representatives of those circumstances contributing to our status. For example, in looking at my father and reflecting on my mother's own frustrations with her role, and the conditioning that has kept her trapped in her misery all her life, I have felt bitter resentment and anger towards him as the culprit. I love my father, yet 1

have experienced hatred for him as a man. Those are not feelings derived from reason, for as an individual he is as much a victim of his conditioning as is my mother of hers. The trap lies in the fact that he becomes an easy target of my resentment because he is more accessible than the real core of the probleina male-dominated society and all the conventions which have served to reinforce women's entrapment. It is vital that we be able to understand this distinction if our thinking is to remain clear; and in order to gain a better standing individually and collectively, our thinking must remain clear.

We cannot allow our anger to cloud our thinking. Too often when women discuss themselves, what is said gets lost in a ruckus of how it's said, or by whom. Logical political thought gives way to a debate of passions. No one hears what's actually bcing said because each one assumes a given attitude and "receives" in terms of that attitude, rather than evaluating the content for its own merits. Communication breaks down as a result of thinking in "set" terms and codifying everything with labels that (continued on page 12)

VIEWPOINTS

Editors' Note: When we decided we would focus on lesbianism in this issue, we asked our readers to share their personal and political experiences and perspectives on the subject. The following viewpoints reflect some of the diverse ways in which our readers view the role of lesbianism in their lives.

Unfortunately, it was not possible to print all the material we received. In one specific case we received a very lengthy article dealing primarily with the sexual aspects of lesbianism from a separatist position. Although some of the views expressed in the article may reflect the feelings of members of the lesbian feminist community, we chose not to print the article because the writer denied us the right to edit the article, a right we have always reserved in this newspaper. However, we will send a copy to anyone who is interested. Please send a selfaddressed stamped envelope to WSW, P. O. Box 18465, Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118.

Growing Up Gay in Cleveland

It was difficult to tell whether the echo came from the sound of my footsteps on the marble staircase or from the beating of my heart as I entered the catacombs of knowledge of the Philosophy and Religion Department of the Cleveland Public Library. I had decided it was time to find who or what I was. At the age of twelve, I had had my fill of jokes and innuendoes that I did not understand. They most assuredly were directed at me. People were willing to laugh and make fun; no one ever talked to me about what it was they were laughing about. I no longer wanted to be the butt of their jokes. If there was something wrong with me, I surely could not let my family know. I had to find out on my own!

The librarian, being extremely efficient, set upon me. I quickly told her I knew what it was I was after; she need not help me. In fact, I was petrified. How

So You're Gay

My best friend is a lesbian. This may sound trite and/or patronizing. Hopefully what follows will unveil my feelings as well as enlighten attitudes of others both straight and gay.

I am a straight woman and a private person who forms friendships slowly. The friend I speak of 1 have known for five years, but I did not always know she was gay.

It has always been a special and strange relationship. Our differences in lifestyles, friends and tastes were always present. Now it is hard to remember how exactly the friendship began and grew stronger.

A few months before she told me she was gay, can remember a vague unsettling feeling of us drifting apart. Now I realize how hard it was for her to make the decision to tell me. I will always be thankful, since in so many ways it has changed and enriched my life.

Primarily it has given me back my friend, for now we can truly share our lives. Although I never had negative feelings toward lesbians in general, 1 also had never known one personally.

Now I have met many of her friends and have been out socially with her at bars and parties. This exposure to new people and experiences has enabled me 10 become much less judgmental and critical of things new and different. I don't always feel completely comfortable or even like all the people and places, but my powers of adaptability have increased tremendously. But, really, who in any situation (continued on page 14)

I

could ask her to help find information on "homosexuality"? Bending over the card catalogue so no one could see the headings, I got my numbers and scurried off to the dark stacks. As nonchalantly as I could, I began my search for the words that would tell me I was OK.

I did indeed find out about me. Reading cvery other word so that the librarian wouldn't catch me and only really understanding every other word, 1 came away with words like deviant, abnormal, arrested development. What they were really saying was not acceptable, not nice! So in the year 1952 at the age of twelve, I decided that I may not be acceptable to them, but deep down inside me I knew I was nice and they were just plain wrong!

Although I don't know how it was for other women, I knew there was something different about me. At the age of eight, I did not fantasize about the little boy next door, but of the girl downstairs. My greatest difficulty was in knowing and not knowing at the same time. In elementary school I was madly in love with this little waif of a girl. I spent hours in the playground wrapped in my hand-me-down army WAC coat defending this love of mine from all the boys. Playing tag was my favorite game because once I caught her I could wrap me and my army coat around her under the pretense she shouldn't get away. For those few seconds, going to school was worthwhile.

From army coat I changed to levis, dad's old white shirt, white buck shoes and best of all, my new DA (duck's ass) haircut. It was hard to tell whether I was the girl or boy next door. I didn't much care. I took pride in my sense of freedom. I was the typical tomboy. So what? Even though millions of little girls are tomboys, not all are gay. The difference is in the attitude, one enveloping a self confidence and an instinct to survive. You may ask, "Survive what?" If you were not around in the '50's, the typical female behavior was to be cute in your crinoline and get married. I neither wanted to be cute, wear crinolines, nor get married. Therefore, not fitting the status quo of things, I had to adopt a survival instinct or they would take my levis, my bucks and put me back in braids.

In the fifties, women were mothers and that was all. Fathers worked, and came and went as they pleased. Not knowing how, I decided being a father was the better of the two. Attitudes and behaviors developed from that role identification have been burdensome for me as an adult lesbian in the feminist movement. But that is another tale.

(continued on page 11)

Jane, 1979/What She Wants/Page 3