The Laramie Project

I just watched the amazing HBO film production of the play The Laramie Project as research for working in the costume department on an up-coming stage production of it at the Silk St Theatre, London.

I spent most of the time watching it with the feeling as though I had just had the air knocked out of me, and not for the first time (or the hundredth time) I thanked God that I grew up and live in England in the period of history that is today.

As a young queer, it is very hard to comprehend that life was so awful back before I was old enough to be aware of the world and my place in it. I'm not saying life now is perfect - we've a long way to go to achieving a world where non-cis genders and non-hetero sexualities go unremarked - but my goodness, I am lucky I wasn't born before 1992, and didn't have to experience life as it was before then, and even in the 90s.

If you don't know the Laramie Project, it's a play by a theatre group who went over the Laramie, Wyoming two weeks after a hate crime. A 21 year old out gay man, Matthew Sheppard, was driven out to a field by two of his fellow residents, beaten with fists and a pistol, tied to a post, and left for dead. He was found in a coma, and rushed to hospital, but eventually died without waking up. The theatre group spent the year and a half following (during which time the two young men who committed this atrocity were tried and convicted and the world media descended on the small town) interviewing the residents, hearing how they were involved in the case, and how it had affected them. The play condenses these interviews and uses the townspeople's own words to convey the attitudes at the time, and the effect of being used as the stage for the debate over anti-discrimination laws and hate crime legislation.

I am so lucky that the worst I've had to face is people who don't understand what bisexuality is. I've never been bullied, discriminated against, attacked, abused or hated for being bisexual. But still my heart is with all my fellow queers who do face these things, and worse in places where the law is against them as well; that's the pain I feel, the hurt that I bear; I weep not for myself but the continuing struggle to keep going, keep fighting ignorance, fear and bigotry, to push for more on top of what we've already achieved.

It is warming to look back at the last century and realise how far we've come from that point. Life for me was great growing up because of the efforts of those who fought those battles, people who were enraged by Mattew Sheppard's story, and so many others like it. But now I am battling, it's my turn to pave the way for the generations after me (which is weird for me to think about age 21) as well as those still suffering right now, so that they may live better lives without pain caused by who they are.

Forgetting that I'm bi

I think I've talked about this before, but I just have the compulsion to talk about it now.

How can people forget? People forget I'm bisexual, like they might forget I don't like pink, or something. It feels ludicrous to me. They don't forget about the gay people, but they always need prompting, a reminder, to add women into the equation about me when talking about men, or other similar situations.

I'm a romantic - a soppy fool if you will, full of marshmallow and loud ballads - and love is a big deal for me. So it gets on my nerves that people stumble when talking about me and love, that they get it wrong, forget, in a way that doesn't apply to my preferences to colours. I don't care if they forget that I don't like pink. But forgetting I'm bi, well, that's a part of me that majorly affects my life, basically runs it.

My passion for love, my enthusiasm for human connection, it's in everything - my interactions with others that wants to be a good person so that they may be happy; my love of story, and how it explores what it means to be people, that leads me to writing my own prose as well as reading copiously, and choosing a career in theatre; throwing myself into the faith and community of Christianity; honing my cooking skills and appreciation of food so it can be shared with others - the human condition fascinates me, and the bare essential of the meaning of life, and the ultimate underpinning of the universe for me boils down to LOVE.

And I fall in love with men and women.

And you forget that the basic principle of my existence involves both??!


Or that's what it feels like. Is it because I know I'm a misunderstood element of a misunderstood minority, that I am projecting forgetfulness onto them, because I expect it? How can I tell if my perception is wrong?

But if I'm right...


You can see my problem. I want to let it go; I want to forgive them on the grounds of human error, or ignorance, as we are all guilty of committing of course, and I wonder if my difficulty to do so is justified or not. Is it righteous indignation? Or is it part of my selfish desire to be understood and remembered? Is it part of my activist attitude that I must pick people up on the mistake in the hopes of spreading the word and decreasing the ignorance? Or is it on par with the pink thing, and I'm just making a mountain out of a mole hill?

I only ask questions because I genuinely don't know. And I pose the issue because I wonder whether other bisexuals meet with forgetfulness, and if it annoys them, and if it does, whether they feel guilty for being annoyed.

Also wondering whether to use the upcoming Valentines Day to make a move on the guy I like. You're probably not surprised to learn that most of my thoughts - outside of working on the costume of The Marriage of Figaro - are taken up with this man, and how I can communicate my interest to him.

...

I just smiled to myself. I witter on about the drama of the bisexual life, and how socio-politically we operate in society, but I'm glad I can remind myself of what it's all about - one person fancying the pants off another person, and feeling the butterflies when they see them.

Them butterflies. Get every they do. Run the universe ya know.

Anyway, I'm not saying someone's bisexuality should define them, or determine how others treat them. I'm not even saying that others should be aware of my enthusiasm (sight obsession) with love. I just think others should treat bisexuals like whole people, including their bisexuality.

Yep, butterflies.

Bisexual History

Hello dear readers,

I have a favour to ask. My fabulous church LGBT group, which I have mentioned frequently on here, has asked me if I'm interested in doing next month's session.

It's LGBT History Month in Feb, and the group had trans history last year, lesbian the year before, and gay before that. So this Feb our session will be on bisexual history, yippee!

My favour is for resources. I haven't done a lot of research into bisexuality as such, and certainly not into the history of it, and I want to do this properly. So I thought I'd ask the people who'd know best.

I'd also love any thoughts on how to run the session. Should I make it academic, personal, interactive? What topics should I definitely cover? Please let me know in comments - I feel that it has to be representative of all of us as a community.

Thank you guys! Feel free also to contact me on twitter @iamabisexual, or youtube.com/EsmeTurnip, and if anyone is based in London and feels like coming along on the 10th of Feb to St James Piccadilly, it would be great to have you!

Cheers gang,

Esme T

x

Bisexual sacrifice: Is it worth it?

Yesterday, after the Christmas break, I moved back into my term time accommodation, and whilst I was unpacking, my dad told me an anecdote from his New Year's Eve. He was talking to a long-time friend of his and my mum's, and unsurprisingly their were catching up on news about each other's offspring.

She asks him if either my brother or I have got partners, and he says no, and she presses him further to ask if there are any potential men in my life, and he answers no again (which shows how little I discuss my love life with my parents) and she says... "Careful, she might pull a Clare Balding on you!"

Now, for those of you who don't know, Clare Balding is a British sports journalist and presenter, and she is a lesbian, part of only a small group of British celebrities who are known to be; and it's this aspect of her to which my parents' friend was referring.

My dad said he stopped talking about the subject after that - what he meant was that he didn't out me to her. And I didn't get angry; I just commented that I found it strange that he saw it as private business - he hasn't even told his siblings, my aunts and uncle. It's not that I want to shout it from the roof tops - I mean jeez, it took me four years to come out to my parents because I didn't want to be immodest and make a big deal - but come on, I'm out and proud, so when it comes up there's no need to skirt around the issue. It doesn't take making a big deal to address my bisexuality when it comes up in conversation.

I don't know whether this a political issue ie should we talk up about our bisexuality specifically to get it talked about? Should we jump at any chance we get to spread the knowledge that we are bisexual, or are there some situations where it seems more appropriate to let it slide for the moment? If we let it slide, are we admitting shame or just a social sensitivity?

I've had mild complaints that I go on about my bisexuality and shove it in people's faces. I don't think I get aggressive about it, and I don't think I talk about it overly much. If I respond to these comments by talking about it less, am I admitting defeat at the hands of biphobia? If I ignore them, am I being selfish and egocentric?

I don't have simple answers to these questions, because I'm unsure. Human sexuality is such a sensitive topic in general, and I think I forget that most people don't like talking about any aspect of it, whereas I'm not like most. I'll disclose that my first time with a man was a booty call, and my first time with a woman was a one night stand - both the disclosure of any facts about first times and the nature of my particular two are often seen as scandalous and improper, but I don't feel they are scandalous nor do I feel any sense of embarrassment about sharing them.

Is it wrong of me to impose on others by broadly discussing my personal sexuality (though I don't share sensitive info about other people, nor do I narrate details of sexual encounters, and I certainly don't talk about ongoing relationships or even recently ended ones) even though I have no problem with it myself?

But then, what is this blog but just that? Am I somehow betraying myself with this blog? And if I am, does this blog do enough good to be worth it?

Ah man, see where a train of thought can lead you. At the heart of my dad's story, I found a root issue in today's bisexual community - is open and honest discussion a valid method of education, or does it perpetuate our reputation as all about the sex/attention seekers?

Me personally, I think it's a good thing; our major enemy that supports and defends biphobia is ignorance, and if we have to sacrifice a little privacy so that generations to come can be bisexual is peace, so be it.

So maybe I have a simple answer after all.

Being C of E this week: same-sex marriage

This blog post follows the news that the UK will be legalising same-sex marriage with a quadruple lock to protect religious freedom.

I understand that the provision about the Church of England in the newly proposed legislation for same-sex marriage is a legal thing to do with Church of England canon law not being in conflict with common law. It makes sense, legally, when you read about the details.

The major problem for me is the truly idiotic stance of the CofE against same-sex marriage in the first place, never mind this hoo-hah about their own caveat in the law.

The true meaning of marriage is committing yourself to the one person you love and will share your life with, plain and simple. It is a social declaration of this commitment, and a legal contract that binds you to them in the eyes of the law - whilst still an individual, you are half of an intrinsically interconnected whole.

It is complete bollocks that marriage is anything to do with the "complementarity" of the "distinctiveness of men and women" (as the official line of the CofE goes). Bollocks! Just because straight people are the majority, and so the concept of a social contract started with them does not mean the man/woman element is intrinsic to what marriage is in society!

I just don't understand this official view of my church. The people who think this in the CofE must not have much interaction with society and the world around them, because they are simply behind the times - society does not consider marriage to be what the CofE considers it to be.

The Government's response to the consultation has it right - "At its heart, marriage is about two people who love each other making a formal commitment to  each other. We do not believe that this commitment is any different whether it is made by a same-sex couple or an opposite sex couple. We believe that by allowing same-sex couples to get married we are further strengthening the institution of marriage." As a bisexual, I can wholeheartedly standby the assertion that the commitment is not different whether your partner is the same or opposite sex!

We Anglicans are not Catholics, who believe that marriage is "based on “the biological complementarity of male and female and on the possibility of children”", and it is disturbing that we seem to be anywhere near this line of antiquated thinking. It is unreasonable to not realise that Christianity has no grounds on which to be against same-sex marriage, and the church is falling behind society by hanging on the views on marriage that the people of this country have left behind them. And I'm disappointed in me church.

The Archbishop of Wales: "What can the church do to show that this relationship is not simply something between my partner and I but that somehow God is in our midst as well and longs for our wellbeing?"

The official view doesn't make sense, it does not reflect what society and many CofE Christians think, and it breaks my heart. Come on now, my dear Church of England. Open your eyes.

Quotes from N. Frank: Is Homosexuality a Sin?

"The Bible, both the Old and New Testaments, actually contains two different kinds of sin. One is an act considered morally wrong because it's hurtful or dangerous. This includes obvious violations of the social contract, such as murder and theft, as well as sentiments that are discouraged because they can lead to unfairness or harm: greed, envy, idleness and arrogance. It also includes violations of more minor rules that can seem like mere rituals but which evolved to keep a population safe or healthy from perceived dangers, such as rules about diet and sanitation.

The second kind of sin is a violation against social conventions. This is where the word "moral" comes from, as in "social mores." These refer to practices and beliefs widely shared by your community, but which are not intrinsically beneficial or harmful. These mores exist as a way to bind the community together, often in opposition to another group.

Which kind of sin is homosexuality, according to the Bible? Certainly in an era of tribal rivalries and high infant mortality, procreative sex was encouraged as necessary to population growth, making alternatives potentially harmful to group survival. This, at least, is a popular explanation of how both masturbation and homosexuality became taboo in biblical times and would place them in the moral category of intrinsic harm.

...

what becomes clear from actually reading the Bible on homosexuality is that the anti-gay taboo is, above all, a badge of team membership -- of a piece with opposition to outsiders and nonbelievers. Leviticus appears to condemn same-sex desire unequivocally, forbidding "lying with a man" as an "abomination." But the word normally translated as "abomination" is more properly understood as simply "taboo" -- something forbidden by custom, largely because it's associated with other groups. Indeed, the literal meaning of "taboo" is "set apart."

The Old Testament taboo against homosexuality appears in a passage that's all about the duty of Jews to honor and obey God, meant to set them apart from pagans. It begins with God telling the Israelites to worship only him and follow only his rules and not those of the whacky Egyptians and Canaanites just because they may pass through their lands. In other words, when in Rome, do notas the Romans do, or you'll mark yourself as a member of the wrong team. The so-called "abomination" really denotes a non-Israelite cultic practice, like the worship of foreign idols. It's an act that the Israelites were forbidden from doing because others did it, not because it was intrinsically bad.

Like the Hebrew scriptures, the New Testament appears to condemn homosexuality in no uncertain terms, most notably in Paul's letter to the Romans, which bemoans men who relinquish their natural function and "burn in their lust" for each other. But it turns out that this desire is not so much the cause of harm but the punishment for a much greater violation: denying God. "Even though they knew God, they did not honor him," writes Paul. "Therefore, God gave them over" to such desires -- along with a long list of others. Like the Jews, Christians threw homosexuality into a bucket of no-nos (along with gossip, insolence and apostasy) to solidify their team membership against nonbelievers and outsiders.

Looked at in proper context, the biblical taboo against same-sex desire was a product of one key fact: that foreigners and apostates practiced it. That fact, above all else, appears to be what made it unacceptable, more than anything intrinsic to same-sex acts, such as their association with depopulation."

A Flirt speaks

Recently, I've been assistant stage manager on a show at college in London. The show ran a week of performances and then closed. I've been working on it since the beginning of rehearsals, and so have gotten to know the 25-strong mixed cast rather well.

Part of the course I'm on involves regular meetings with tutors to discuss how the allocation is going, and because of this self-evaluation (we are encouraged to record 'learning logs') I have realised just how much I flirt. With pretty much everyone.

And today, as I was contemplating my bisexuality after reading an article on HuffPost Gay Voices (http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/matt-stanley/bisexuality-were-not-bicurious-were-b_b_2203207.html?utm_hp_ref=gay-voices&ir=Gay+Voices&ncid=edlinkusaolp00000009) these two thoughts collided and I hit upon the question - am I A Flirt because I am bisexual?

My first reaction was horror at my own stereotyping and prejudice. One should not make generalisations about a group of people based on the actions of one member. My second was of sadness, that the biphobia in society is so wide-spread that even bisexuals themselves are vulnerable to believing it.

And my third was to reconsider my idea again, and find some merit in it, though not in a way to come to the conclusion that because someone is bisexual, they must be flirtatious (or because someone is flirtatious, they must be bisexual), but in a way that sees a link between the two in me as an individual.

I do think that being bisexual has influenced my flirting practices. It affects who I flirt with - both men and women. But here's the thing - I flirt not just with people in whom I'm interested, but people I'm not so interested in too. I came to a conundrum when I realised that though I have been flirting with many of the cast in the show, I found it hard to actually know which of them I was truly attracted to. Having a wider pool of possible attractions has triggered a larger number of targets for flirting with subconsciously, leading to many working relationships that involve flirting.

I don't think the quantity of people I flirt with affects the quality of the flirting, but I do think it clouds my ability to know how I feel about the individuals I flirt with. I do not know if I prefer the tall man with a temper, the svelte man with a fondness for tickling, the girl who elicits a sigh of longing from me every time I see her, the girl with big brown eyes and a tender smile, the muscular gentleman with a heart-melting Celtic accent, the cute musical girl, or the young charmer with secrets.

I flirt with all of them, and get a mix of responses, and it's fun, because any one of them is potential love interest to me, because I'm bisexual. You see? My bisexuality influences how I interact with people because they're all possible girl/boyfriends to me! How's that for a bit of psychoanalysis?

But of course it is not just my bisexuality that is to blame, far from it. I am self-confident, loud, provocative, obsessed with romance, and fixated on finding love. I flirt because I can, and it's entertaining, and other people enjoy it. So I am A Flirt for many reasons, being bi being one of them. It's neither good or bad. It's got pros and cons.

Overall it just makes me grin as yet again I revel in the fun of being bi.