Why we struggle to get bi : understanding bisexual experiences in LGBTQ+ groups

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“Why We Struggle to Get Bi”

Understanding Bisexual Experiences in LGBTQ+ Groups

By

Phoebe Mary O’Leary

A Thesis submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of Msc: Sociology; Gender, Sexuality and Society

At

The University of Amsterdam Primary Supervisor: Dr. Bojan Bilić Secondary Supervisor: Dr. Margriet Van Heesch

Number: 11127252 Contact: poleary@tcd.ie

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Abstract

“Why We Struggle To Get Bi”

Understanding Bisexuality in LGBTQ Groups.

This study uses qualitative discourse analysis to examine the experiences of bisexual people within two social and political groups that claim to be inclusive of the entire LGBTQ community. Previous studies have shown that bisexual people have predominantly negative experiences in queer communities. These negative experiences can be attributed to biphobia or monosexism. Monosexism refers to a social structure operating through the assumption that everyone is, or should be monosexual, it privileges those who are monosexual and punishes non monosexual people. This thesis examines the ways monosexism is sustained in LGBTQ communities. The research involved extensive participant observation with both groups and twelve in-depth interviews with bisexual groups members. Drawing on ethnographic examples, I argue that these organizations participate in the creation of the normative homosexual ideal while distancing themselves from problematic identities that challenge normative, traditional frameworks for understanding identity. Using bisexuality as our main example, I argue that these groups reinforce the idea that core identities (gay and lesbian) are authentic and immutable—denying the existence of some queer realities, reinforcing normative ideas about sex, gender, and sexuality, and reproducing the system of inequality that privileges monosexuality.

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Acknowledgments

To my wonderful parents who kept me in good health with their encouragement, sense of humor and constant updates on a 100 year old rebellion. To my brothers and sisters who accept me as a radical queer feminist in a house full of doctors, teachers and scientists. To my partner in crime, Imogen who was an invaluable source of support, both academically and emotionally, and who somehow managed to come out at the end still sane and still beside me.

To Dr. Andrew Finlay who encouraged me to study at masters level and told me that my insights had value. To my secondary supervisor Dr. Margriet Van Heesch who understood me from the moment I walked into her class and shares in my love of puns. To my supervisor Dr. Bojan Bilić for his critical insights, inspiration and generosity. He inspired me to become a better sociologist and to constantly work harder.

To the members of Rainbow Warriors and QueerSpace, who have become my family over the last year and who I will miss terribly. To my participants, whose deeply personal and honest accounts of relationships, desires and sexualities made this dissertation possible. Finally, I want to dedicate this thesis to the unheard voices and the untold stories of bisexual people wherever and however they live their lives. Silence is not their choice to make.

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Introduction

Is There Anyone Out

There? Am I All Bi

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Is There Anyone Out There? Or Am I all Bi Myself?

During my time in Dublin as part of my undergraduate degree I had the privilege of attending “Pink Training” the Union of Students in Irelands annual LGBT activist training weekend. The experience stands alone as one of the most uplifting and affirming experiences of my life. Over the course of the three days I attended several workshops on everything from Sexual Empowerment to Trans* Media Representation. However one particular incident stands out to me now even three years later. I was in the hostel room I was sharing with the six other delegates from my university. When I innocently asked what happened in a “safe space” as it was scheduled for Sunday morning, “All the gays and all the lesbians get together and talk about issues that are important to them specifically” one of my roommates replied adding “Its mostly a chance for all the bisexuals to get together and bitch about everyone else, talk about how nobody thinks they exist” “They don’t!” said another voice from the corner. The room erupted into laughter and I silently stuck my head back into the program I’d been reading.

Three years on, the incident still raises mixed emotions for me, it highlighted the continued ridicule that bisexual identities face within gay and lesbian communities. It also reminds me of the feelings of inadequacy that we face when presented with the chance to affirm our own position within these spaces. The memory evokes feelings of guilt and anger for me, after all I had been selected to attend the training in the hope that on returning I would be able to challenge, engage and respond to the way people understand sexuality and gender. Yet here in the “safest” of spaces I chose to ignore the blatant criticism of my own sexual identity. There is something different, amazingly concrete and personal, attached to disclosing sexuality in any space. The feeling of discomfort that floods one’s chest is one with which I am all too familiar. This discomfort is normally lifted once one realizes that they are amongst those in a similar position. However when social system is based on a dichotomous framework of sexuality; heterosexuality or homosexuality, it displaces those who do not conform to the assumption, particularly when those assumptions occur along binary systems (Calhoun, 2000). In other words, bisexual individuals are displaced from heterosexual

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and gay/lesbian communities, to the point that their identities become debatable by the social system (Meyer, 2004) Bisexual identities do not fit neatly into binary constructs. Therefore these identities are challenged within gay/lesbian and heterosexual communities. Bisexuality becomes an intermediate stage between heterosexuality and homosexuality (Rust, 1997) and embracing bisexual identity is considered to be an evasion of stigma and a denial of one's real sexual self. (Ponse, 1978).

Outlining the Research Question

This study uses qualitative discourse analysis to examine the experiences of bisexual people within two social groups that claim to be inclusive of the entire LGBTQ community. The effect of living within social structures that envision sexual identities as dichotomous, is that bisexual-identified people (and other queer, non-conforming identified individuals) is that they have to contend with the oppression of stigma and discrimination (Hunter, 2007). It creates an environment of constant negotiation and dilemmas in navigating everyday life. While many gay and lesbian organizations can be seen becoming more inclusive by including a “B T Q or +” sign to their label these efforts can be seen as token or fitful. The majority of the activist and academic commentary still reify a gay/straight binary. (Yoshino, 2000) Many who aim even initially to include bisexuality as a possibility revert pack to the gay/straight dichotomy when the topic switches. I even catch myself talking at length about bisexuality at one moment, then in another asking “Is X gay or straight?” without even feeling that an important possibility, the bisexual possibility, has been erased. What is happening here? Why is bisexuality so hard to grasp? If we understand this invisibility as erasure, then why is this erasure occurring? How is it occurring? We must accept that bisexuality must have gained some degree of visibility in order for erasure to occur. One cannot “erase” something that is not present or visible.

Therefore the question is really why we have created categories of sexual orientation that suppress the existence of bisexual desire, and more importantly who is gaining from bisexual erasure? What systems of power is monosexism sustaining? In this thesis, I argue that these organizations participate in creating and strengthening the normative homosexual ideal while distancing themselves from problematic identities that challenge normative, traditional frameworks for understanding identity. Using bisexuality as our main example, I argue that these groups reinforce the idea that core

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identities (gay and lesbian) are authentic and immutable—denying the existence of some queer realities, reinforcing normative ideas about sex, gender, and sexuality, and reproducing the system of inequality that privileges monosexuality.

Situating the field of Study

How do you know someone is bisexual? I dunno how?

They’ll tell you!!!

(Overheard at QueerSpace)

When people ask me about my dissertation topic, I often give a simple reply. “I am studying experiences of bisexual people in LGBTQ activism” In response, I get uncomfortable looks, and the person usually changes the topic. Bisexuality makes people uncomfortable. When you come out as bisexual people tend wish that they hadn’t asked or at least hope you won’t talk about it, or answer a series of invasive question to allow the asker to gage your “real” sexual orientation. This is because the very existence of bisexuality is seen as a threat to the dichotomous framework of sexuality from which our assumptions are entrenched. It is a threat to monosexism, a threat to a system which assumes sex and gender as one of our most important defining characteristics. Declaring an open, unequivocal bisexual identity in either straight or gay/lesbian communities frequently results in experiences of discrimination, hostility, and invalidation.

This ethnography emerges from my participation in numerous LGBTQ groups, meetings, discussions, events, and social activities in the last five years, including student groups both abroad and at home, Bi+ Ireland, The Irish Marriage Equality campaign and BeLonGTo youth services. As such my work is heavily influenced from both a personal experience and academic observation. This level of personal involvement is important to the direction that my work will take, a less involved observer would be unlikely to appreciate the embodied thrill of participating in a LGBTQ community for the first time, the conflict of interests when telling your closest queer friends of a new opposite sex partner, or that moment of pure joy when Callie Torres actually used the word bisexual on Grey’s Anatomy for the first time.

This research on bisexuality is based on 12 semistructured interviews with women and men who self identified as bisexual, and a years worth of ethnographic observation at

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two LGBTQ+ groups; Queer Space and Rainbow Warriors. Rainbow Warriors is an LGBTQ youth group catering for the under 35’s, they meet weekly for drinks and run a series of social and political activities outside of those hours including a lesbian sports team, a group for those interested in photography, theatre trips ect... Queer Space is an LGBTQ+ group which mostly consists of university students, they run a daily drop in service with coffee and biscuits, they also have a book club, queer theory reading group and several other social activities. While both groups offer social and political opportunities, QueerSpace focuses more on activism and political engagement, it also has more diversity in its membership. Rainbow Warriors are more of a social group and do very little in forms of activism. There are three participants who have no affliction to either if these groups, these are indicated in chapter four. These a participants are drawn from a Bi+ activist and networking group of which I am also a member. They all have significant experience in queer communities outside of these and offer another perspective on bi+ experiences of monosexism.

Research Objectives

At the most practical level, and as a way to begin understanding queer spaces and queer lives, one objective is to understand how bisexual people express their sexuality within LGBTQ groups. This is an objective well answered, perhaps, in studies focusing on the separation of bi people from mainstream LGBTQ groups and on the emergence of specific bisexual of bi activist groups. More recently, the Internet and online communities have become spaces where bisexual people may connect with one another outside of collective LGBTQ spaces. This project contributes to an understanding of the sites where bisexual people may express themselves and connect with one another . Acknowledging sites where bisexual individuals may express aspects of their sexuality is not enough to provide an understanding of the power structures which impact upon them. Knowledge of choices and decisions made by bisexual people as they create social spaces is important in terms of theorizing or forming bisexual communities, or at least fostering an understanding of the difficulty of managing multiple identities across time and space. Therefore, a second objective is to explore meanings and reactions of other LGBTQ people to bisexual group members. It is hoped that by studying the experiences of bisexual people in LGBTQ groups, we may come to understand the discourses surrounding bisexuality within a specific space and from that come to better

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understand how normative assumptions of what it means to be “LGBT” shape peoples sexual self expression and understandings of identities.

You Can Stand Under My Umbrella (ella, ella....)

The language surrounding bisexuality can be difficult to unravel, therefore before I begin to examine these questions a short clarification of terms may be necessary. I include this here (rather than in the methodology chapter) so as to avoid confusion when discussing the literature in the next section. Understanding bisexual attractions can be difficult to even the most well versed reader. It highlights a struggle in language to name attractions outside a dichotomous framework of sexuality.

I was once romantically involved with a woman who identified as a Biromantic Grey Ace. A label which I (let alone my mother) struggled to comprehend. I bring it up here now not to boast of my sexual prowess but to highlight the problem of establishing a full understanding of bisexuality and its entanglements. I do so here rather than in further chapters When we speak about bisexuality we must acknowledge all its various forms and labels. Bi+ can be seen as an umbrella identity covering a range of sexual and romantic desires and experiences. Like Queer, bisexuality can be seen as covering a range of sexual identities and desires which overlap and intersect with each other. (Callis, 2009) Many who identify as bisexual also identify as queer or pansexual also. With this in mind I borrow from bisexual activist Rachel Ochs to create an inclusive definition of bisexuality.

Within this study a bisexual is any person who acknowledges their potential to be attracted – romantically and/or sexually – to people of more than one sex and/or gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way, and not necessarily to the same degree.

While I am not fond of the idea of defining sexuality, I do so here to show that I am happy to discuss the experiences of those who do not identify primarily as bisexual, but also those who prefer pansexual, queer, asexual, questioning, no label or anything else. Those whose experiences and identities fall under a Bi+ umbrella. I endeavor to be transparent with these participants about my own definition of bisexuality for the

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purpose of this study and about how their views may be presented in the final thesis using bisexual language.

Outline of the Thesis

The narrative arc of this Thesis begins with a theoretical exploration of bisexuality and monosexism. Using this theoretical underpinning I examine the position of bisexuality and the way monosexism operates and impacts upon it. Drawing then on an ethnographic examination of bisexual experiences in queer groups, I extrapolate a number of broader conclusions about the impact of monosexism on bisexual people in LGBTQ groups.

Understanding monosexism as a power structure which impacts on everyone not just bisexuals gives us a strong position from which to examine LGBTQ subcultures resistance to and facilitation of this power structure. Thus understanding how LGBTQ groups may deny some queer realities.In chapter two I begin to unpack what is meant by LGBTQ subcultures and the place of bisexuality within them. I also look at previous research in this field to examine how bisexuals have been conceptualized thus far. Drawing on the idea of the “good sexual citizen” I argue that the growing power of homonormative discourses causes LGBTQ groups to imagine gay and lesbian identities as authentic, unchanging “ethnic-style” identities. Chapter Three is devoted to the methodological choices made as part of this thesis. Utilizing queer ethnography I have conducted discursive analysis of bisexuality in LGBT groups. Chapter four examines bisexuality within these two groups. I examine the way members of these groups operate in ways which deny the existence of some queer realities, reinforcing normative ideas about sex, gender, and sexuality, and reproducing the system of inequality that privileges monosexuality. I explore ways participants define themselves as bisexuals and highlight difficulties in the process of 'becoming' bisexual. Bisexuality is constantly “othered” within these groups because of its failure to incorporate itself into a monosexual norm. Chapter five moves on to explore how gay male culture shapes the experiences and identities of bisexual men. I examine growing trends within gay male cultures and comment on these effects on bisexual men. I highlight a fear that hyper masculine symbols among gay men may function to promote negative attitudes toward femininity, feminine men, and women. Men must therefore actively seek to assimilate

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within the homosexual norm to find acceptance. It is not enough to just be attracted to men, this attraction must be vocalized in a social setting and enacted through involvement in gay communities. Finally in chapter six, I review the limitations and implications of the research.

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Chapter Two

Why We Struggle To

Get Bi

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My Life as a “Trendy” Bisexual

I knew this day would come. Six weeks had gone by since our first encounter. In the darkness of my quaint apartment in the North of Dublin's inner city, two bodies were becoming intertwined. With the noise of my roommates early morning routines playing in the background, I closed my eyes. I felt a hand explore my body, aided by a set of lips. Thighs. Hips. Chest. Neck. Lips. Ear. While Bee rested her head on my chest listening to my heart beat. This moment of intimacy, if not fully understood, gave me the courage to ask a question that I had been wondering since I had first met her, “Why did you tell me you were straight?” her reply came quickly shattering parts of myself I thought were stable and solid. “I dunno, I think girls who say they’re bisexual are usually just looking for attention.”

Everything I knew or perhaps I thought I knew fell apart, I was silenced, unsure of how to respond. I was insulted but also saddened. While female bisexuality is arguably more accepted then male by its “trendy” label. The acceptance of female bisexuality seems somewhat limited, as bisexual practices among women are still stigmatized. A narrative of “girl tries bisexuality and then goes back to heterosexuality” still exists. As the incident above showcases bisexual practices do not automatically translate into the elimination of an individuals own biphobic values or into the adoption of a bisexual identity for oneself. When confronted with bisexual practices among others and/or themselves, those behaviors are perceived as perfectly compatible with a monosexual identity, not as an indication of one’s bisexual identity. This incidence raises the key questions to be addressed in this chapter namely; What is bisexuality? How to we make sense of bisexuality within frameworks of power? Who is benefiting from bisexual erasure?

Why We Still Struggle To Get Bi

Male bisexuality doesn’t exist. Or it’s very, very rare. Or it’s really just gay men in denial. Meanwhile female bisexuality is really hot. Or an attention seeking strategy. Or just straight girls looking for a good time. Or so you would be led to believe if you read newspapers lately. Yet for the sociologist studying bisexualities, the interplay between gender and bisexuality proves to be particularly interesting. After all, nearly all of our

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interactions are gendered. In describing the gendering of bisexualities, I do not aim to reinforce binary ideas of what men and women are. There are of course many individuals of non binary gender identities who are bisexual, gender and sexuality are undoubtably entangled, for to be gay is to be male and to be a lesbian is to be a women. However given the challenge and limits of speaking about something as multivalent as gender within the constraints of binary language, I will speak about male and female bisexuals in this section.

Female bisexuality is arguably more accepted by the mainstream society. I highlighted this in the introduction when I spoke about its “trendy” label. Female bisexuality is fashionable, female identified bisexuals are more likely to be accused of being straight “tourists” rather than “actually” queer. It is seen as something young women may participate in for attention. Female bisexuality is potentially more accepted because of its voyeur factor for many men, which is truly more fetishization than acceptance, sometimes leading to the victimization of bisexual women, in fact. As Eisner (2013) points out there is a very big difference between acceptance and objectification. Rather, it is because the acceptance of female bisexuality often reflects a form of imposed sexualization that centers around the presumed needs of the straight male viewer – above, beyond and instead of those of the women themselves. In her article “Pleasure Under Patriarchy,” Mc Kinnion (1989) argues that, in the hegemonic male imagination, women are allowed to want sex, as long as what they want reflects men’s wishes: “the object is allowed to desire, if she desires to be an object.” As such women are allowed to bisexual as long as it is the “sexy” kind. As Eisner (2013) highlights female bisexuality is only “accepted” if the women involved are conventionally attractive, appear in sexualized contexts and finally must be thought of as performing bisexuality for men rather than experiencing desires for multiple genders. Nobody wants to hear about the butch bisexual’s loving monogamous relationship with her wife. She is of course, a closeted lesbian.

Bisexual women have been seen as previously being excluded by lesbian communities. During the lesbian separatist movement from 1970s onwards, bisexual women where excluded from lesbian communities, seen as diluting lesbian identity, as dangerous “fence sitters”, untrustworthy because of their relationships with men. For example Marilyn Murphy (1990) argued that because they freely choose to sleep with men,

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bisexual women are the only true heterosexuals. In this manner, Murphy defined the attraction a bisexual woman experiences toward other women as irrelevant and argued that these women are not competent enough to know their own sexual selves. Despite the harshness of Murphy's rhetoric, she is writing at a time when less than half of my participants where even alive. The lesbian separatist movement has lost momentum in recent decades. During the lesbian separatist movement bisexual women where not the only ones excluded. Many other queers were pushed out of the community for different reasons. First, lower class women who expressed their class difference through female masculinity and butch/femme roles were cast out because of a perceived desire to achieve male privilege. Then, black lesbians who refused to stop associating with black men in their collective struggle against racism were essentially excommunicated. Then MTF lesbian feminists were cast out for being male infiltrators reflecting the heteronormative idea that biological sex determines “actual gender.” Then, BDSM practitioners, queers, FTM trans* were virtually thrown out, resulting in what some saw as a “pure” lesbian community (Nataf 2006). In recent years and with the influence of queer politics and intersectional feminism the lesbian separatist movement has lost a lot of its following. This is showcased by the end of the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival after over 40 years, after a controversy surrounding its refusal to admit trans* women. Male bisexuality is less often spoke about, less often even considered. Even in writing this thesis my mother (who accepts me whole heartedly and with so much love) struggles to accept that bisexual men exist, she has never met one or at least doesn’t think she has. Bisexual men are more likely to be considered to be gay. There is the idea that male bisexuality is a transitional phase into full homosexual identity. Why is this? Steinman (2001) claimed that bisexual men have not experienced the same exclusionary practices from gay men as bisexual women have experienced from lesbian women due to the “entire ocean rule” (Brekhus cited in Steinman, 2001) in which gay men need an “entire ocean” of evidence of heterosexuality in order to rule out bisexual men as objects of desire. Men are thought to have homoerotic potential; active or latent, out or closeted, un-till they thoroughly disqualify themselves from consideration. Therefore they are perceived as gay unless there is a mountain of evidence to say otherwise. Likewise, we may argue that the exclusionary practices of lesbian feminism, have directed stigma primarily at bisexual women rather than men. While gay men, though often seen as being in denial of bisexual existence haven’t had this historical

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background, there has been no movement which has actively generated hostility towards bisexual men, as such bisexual men have had no need to collectively fight for visibility. Though this line of argument is largely speculative and we should be cautious of any argument which attributes biphobia to lesbians alone.

Yashino (2000) highlights some of the most common perceptions of bisexuality, that bisexuals are merely heterosexuals experimenting; bisexual people are really lesbians and gay men in denial/transition; bisexual people are looking for attention; that bisexuals are indecisive; bisexual people are just promiscuous; bisexuals are untrustworthy; bisexuals are those incapable of monogamous relationships. It is therefore easy for us to believe Li, Dobinson, Scheim and Ross (2013) when they tell us that bisexuality is associated with worse mental health than both heterosexuality and homosexuality on a range of outcomes, including depression, anxiety, self-harm behavior, substance use, and suicide. Li et al. (2013) argue that bisexuals experience a unique set of issues which impacts on their levels of emotional stress including and highlighting their rejection by gay and lesbian communities. Within lesbian communities bi-women were seen as “straight girls looking for a good time” while within gay communities bi-men were seen as “in the process of coming out as gay”. It actually surprises me how stereotypical these findings are. I thought you could expect at least some nuance within perceptions of bi+ people from queer communities at this point in time. Clearly not.

Much of the earlier US texts on bisexuality are shaped and framed by the AIDS crisis. (Yoshino 2000; Du Plessis 1996) As Du Plessis (1996) argues bisexuals are seen as “living double lives” and therefore are more likely to spread HIV.... Quoting from medical texts from the AIDS crisis “It only takes one bisexual to introduce the AIDs virus to the heterosexual community... The risk is easily hidden when they are having sex with women” (as cited in du Plessis, 1996, 36) Though within this text a number of assumptions are made about bisexuality. Firstly that the bisexuals are male, secondly they are presumed to have homosexual or heterosexual partners rather than bisexual partners and thirdly they are most definitely sleeping around with both sexes (because monogamy is only for the monsexuals?). Yet despite their reputation as risk ridden disease carriers, bisexuals are regularly denied safer sex information. (Du Plessis 1996; Li et al. 2013)

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The task for the bisexual researcher at this point is to bring together the theoretical and lived experiences of bisexual desire. To examine how bisexuals are experiencing these perceptions and stereotypes and what this is telling us about the systems of power that is framing and sustaining bisexual erasure. Understanding the stereotypes of bisexuality and the erasure of bisexuality’s status as a “legitimate” sexual identity, means exploring the power forces and systems of oppression which contribute to its invisability.

Power, Fear and Bisexuals

One way of coming to understand bisexuality’s tentative position as a sexual identity is to understand monosexism and biphobia. The incident outlined at the beginning of this chapter is not so unusual. Many bisexual people experience some form of discrimination and unease even with those they are most comfortable. Why do many people who share opposite and same sex attractions shy away from a bi+ label? What is so unusual about bisexuality? Is there something unique about bisexual discrimination? Many queer authors and activist will argue that biphobia does not exist and that bisexuals do not experience a unique form of oppression separate from homophobia. (Weiss, 2003;) Yet to assume that bisexuals do not suffer from a unique form of oppression that is different from that of gay or lesbian people, is to subsume it under homosexuality and eliminate its unique position. By arguing that bisexuals are only oppressed by homophobia rather than biphobia, we erase the need for a unique bisexual liberation, and thus perpetrate the idea of bisexual people as merely half “add ons” to the gay liberation movement. In her article “GL vs BT” Weiss (2003) argues that biphobia and transphobia are too clinical, that in utilizing the word “phobia” from the greek meaning “fear” or “flight”, we imply a psychological or personal problem rather than a social structure. She suggests the term heterosexism to encapsulate the forms of social structures which act against all LGBT people. While I agree with Weiss’s first point, heterosexism unifies four types of oppression into one mold. Of course, all LGBTQ+ people are affected by heterosexism, however the term assumes that oppression under heteropatriarchy, cis-sexism and monosexism are shared equally by all groups in the queer community and erases the differences between them.

As an alternative to Weiss (2003), I suggest we use the term “monosexism” as outlined by Eisner (2013). Monosexism provides us with the option to study the social structures

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and power/knowledge regimes associated with biphobic behavior. Monosexism refers to a social structure operating through the assumption that everyone is, or should be monosexual, it privileges those who are monosexual and punishes non monosexual people. Monosexism does not aim to locate gay and lesbian people as the sole oppressors of bisexual people but rather that monosexism upholds heteropatriarchal power relations and effects the life of everyone, not just bisexual people. What is sad, is reflecting on how much monosexism and biphobia are themselves erased. Monosexism works in many ways direct and indirect, material and symbolic. I see it and its effects as no less significant than any other oppressive structure. As Eisner (2013) so powerfully puts it;“Our experiences, our lives, our pain, and our oppression are written out and wiped clean of history, culture and community. But this is not our “personal" problem, this is not “ just in our heads”. It is not a figment of the imagination. It is real, and we see it and feel it in our bones, as we struggle to survive and as we struggle to live. We testify as we also remember those gone: Monosexism kills. Biphobia kills.“ ( Eisner, 2013: 64)

Bisexuality is the awkward cousin at the queer family reunion. We can talk about everyone else but we’ll only mention him if he’s in the room and makes his presence known. Bisexuality appears only to be visible when it is activily disclosed. One big task for bisexual politics is to establish why this particular sexual misfit has come to be unthought of, unrepresented, made invisible. Yoshino (2000) has suggested that bisexuality is erased because both homosexual and heterosexual (a group which together he names monsexuals) benefit from its invisibility and thus activily erase it. He has theorized three “investments” monsexuals have in the suppression of bisexual desire namely: 1) a desire to stabilize sexual orientation 2) the maintenance of sex as important societal trait and 3) an interest in maintaining monogamy.

Compulsory Monosexism and Bisexual Existence

How do we conceive the forces maintaining these “investments”? Rereading Rich’s 1980 essay on compulsory heterosexuality and the lesbian existence, it is easy to draw a parallel between rich’s framework and bisexual invisibility. As James (1996) argues Riches assertion that cultural and sexual theorists have an obligation to respectfully recognize lesbian existence could easily be applied to bisexual people. “Any theory or cultural/political creation that treats lesbian existence as marginal or less 'natural'

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phenomenon, as mere 'sexual preference,' or as the mirror image of either heterosexual or male homosexual relations is profoundly weakened thereby, whatever its other contributions.” (Rich, 1980; 113) While Rich may have been part of a movement within lesbian feminism which itself excluded bisexual women, conceptually this framework offers us a way of conceptually understanding oppression. Sadly Riches sentiment is still echoing the approach of western society to lesbian and women loving women. However her arguments may also be used to highlight bisexual existence. As a bisexual scholar, I assert that any theory which refuses bisexual existence, sees it as marginal or as equality composing of heterosexuality and homosexuality is profoundly weakened and harmful, regardless of the theory’s other positive contributions.

Bisexual people are devalued by the erasure of bisexuality in much the same way that gays and lesbians are devalued by compulsory heterosexuality (James, 1996). Society mandates that every person must be attracted to just one sex and denies that a person can be attracted to both. Drawing on Rich we can describe this as compulsory monosexuality. Characteristics of the power monosexuality can be inclusive of the power of monsexuals. They include;

Denial of bisexuals peoples sexuality; seeing bisexuality as non existent, denial of

individual bisexuality, assuming bisexuals are actually gay/straight, perception and acceptance of bisexuality based on partners, relationships or lifestyles, renaming bisexual people with another sexual identity eg; “An honorary lesbian” or “yestergay”

Forcing sexuality upon bisexual people; Viewing bisexuals as promiscuous, slutty or

carriers of STDs, assuming bisexuality as a sign of sexual ability and consent even in non sexual contexts. Assuming all bisexuals are interested in threesomes or group sex. Assuming all bisexuals are polyamorous. Questioning bisexual peoples stability in monogamous relationships.

Confining bisexuals physically, creatively and emotionally; Refusing to welcome bi+

people at appropriate services or events that are segregated by sexual identity (for example, straight singles nights, gay community centers, or lesbian-only events), Exclusion of bisexual people from everyday language that includes sexual identity (“straight and gay alike,” “gay and lesbian”) , Inadequate access to information about the prevalence of STIs in the bi+ community as well as prevention methods that are suitable for bi+ people (without having this information subsumed under those of any other sexual-identity group), to dismiss bisexual inclusion and bi inclusive language as

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unimportant, biphobic violence, To relabel bisexual fictional, historical or famous figures as monosexual, refusing to publish or distribute reading material, media representations, etc. which give attention specifically to bisexual people, accusing bisexual people of upholding heteropatriarchy or cisgender privilege. Forcing bisexuals to chose between invisibility (“passing”) or being consistently “othered” and/or tokenized in their communities based on their sexual identity.

These are some of the ways in which monosexual power is manifested and maintained. What we are discussing is not merely better representation of bisexual people in the media or in queer activism but a “persuasive cluster of forces” which excludes and punishes bisexual people for moving outside established sexual norms using a variety of means. Queer or feminist research which contains bisexual invisibility or marginality, are contributing to these forces, the systematic erasure of bisexual identity and the disempowerment of bisexual people.

What should I use my powers of invisibility for? Good or Evil?

“Then those who have the power to name and to socially construct reality choose not to see you or hear you (...) when someone with the authority of a teacher, say, describes the world and you are not in it, there is a moment of psychic disequilibrium, as if you looked into a mirror and saw nothing.” (Rich, 1986:207)

The start of the Gay Liberation in the early seventies marked a new dawn for gay and lesbian people. Those who are lucky enough to be born within the last twenty or thirty years have had a chance to work out the implications of their oppression. There are books, movies, television shows which portray strong gay and lesbian characters embracing their sexuality. There are stories of the wrongs of the past, the hope for the future. However for bisexual people there is nothing, no martyrs, no stories reflecting the wrongs of the past. It is as though, in Adrienne Rich’s phrase, if you were Bi+, “you looked into the mirror and saw nothing”. In the years following the AIDS epidemic, the queer movement both academically and politically aimed to deconstruct the homo/ hetero binary. At last perhaps a chance to make bisexuality visible within discourses. However, in its focus on a critique of the reproduction of heterosexuality queer theory

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has tended to focus on a homosexual subject and has consequently overlooked other undermined sexual identities (Namaste, 1996). This trend has been observed by several scholars of bisexuality. Goldman, notes that “queer theory—except that written by bisexuals themselves—consistently ignored bisexuality and rarely quoted bisexual theorists” (Goldman, 1996, 176)

This inattention to bisexuality exposes the hidden homosexual norm within queer theory. (Gustavson, 2009). To examine approaches to bisexuality within queer theory we can examine the work of Judith Butler. She is after all the base from which most queer theorists draw. In Judith Butler’s (1990) work, Gender Trouble, which is often understood to be “the most influential text in queer theory” (Spargo, 1999, 52), Butler argues that bisexuality cannot really be conceived of as a unique identity outside of the heterosexual matrix because even if it is considered as a distinctive identity it is only really so by how far it differs from the homosexual norm within the heterosexual matrix. For Butler bisexuality is “the construction of an outside‘ that is nevertheless fully inside,‘ not a possibility beyond culture” (1990: 77). Since Butler does not find bisexuality subversive as a unique identity, she subsumes it under and along with homosexuality and affords it no more attention. Subsequently bisexuality is rarely given much coverage within the work of the many queer theorists that followed. Something that seems strangely at odds with the vast group of bisexuals who make up a large proportion of the queer population. This is not to dismiss the massive contribution queer theorizing has had on the sociological field. However it is only fair to highlight it’s limitations in this area. I continue to sit on the fence about queer theory’s radical potential until it can deal critically with bisexuality, the fence is after all the place where I am so often theorized as sitting.

As a masters student in gender and sexuality, I am often surprised by how little attention is paid academically to bisexuality. Sending young sociologists out into the world without even basic understandings of bi+ theory seems problematic. For example, one day I was in a seminar room waiting for class when the girl beside me says:

Hey what are you writing your Thesis on?

“Oh, on bisexual erasure in queer groups.”

Oh cool, is everyone in your group writing about gay and lesbian stuff too?

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Categorizing all sexual behavior that is not heterosexual as “Gay and Lesbian” or “Homosexual”, is an oppressive act in language. It is of course more than just oppressive in language, as years of postructuralism has taught us language is never just language. (Ochs, 2011) Yet bisexuality is often conceived as some mix of homo and heterosexual attraction. Just as Rich suggests that it is wrong to consider lesbianism as the mirror image of male homosexuality, so too is it misinformed to consider bisexuality a combination of two other sexualities. As Du Plessis (1996) argues conceptualizing sexuality in this way creates a vanishing point for bisexuality, it rests at the point where the parallel lines of homosexuality and heterosexuality intersect. As such bisexuality exists as the anti-subject. If bisexuality is assumed as some mix of heterosexuality and homosexuality it can be seen as being implicit in discussions of sexual duality. Thus bisexuality is understood as part of a binary system and not as the force of its destruction. Despite bisexuality having an epistemic location within this very structure it is curiously ignored in favor of privileging homosexuality as the deconstructive centre point of queer theory. Angelides (2006) argues that is because bisexuality, if conceived at a centre point is only possible if the hetero/homo divide exists. Yet each of these sexualities are dependent upon each other for existence. In other words, these categories are not dissociable; they depend on each other. Therefore bisexuality has played a stabilizing and destabilizing function in the constructions of sexual identities (Angelides, 2006).

If we are cautious of utilizing queer theory, then the question is how can we position bisexuality and bi theory in relation/opposition to it? The answer would seem to be to move beyond mere pleas for visibility, and thinking of bisexuality as merely identity and practice, and create within bisexuality a unique epistemology from which to question and challenge the polarized lines of gender and sexuality. (Yoshino, 2000) As Pramaggiore (1999) theorizes thinking about bisexuality in this way offers great potential. “Bisexual epistemologies—ways of apprehending, organizing, and intervening in the world that refuses one-to-one correspondences between sex acts and identity, between erotic objects and sexualities, between identification and desire— acknowledge fluid desires and their continual construction and deconstruction of the desiring subject. (1999,146)” Conceptualizing bisexuality like this offers us the chance to escape bisexuality as a middle ground which affirms two forms of sexuality which are perceived as securely in place.

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Good and Bad Queers

“I am myself. That is not enough.” Sylvia Plath: The Jailer

Being bisexual can be a marginalizing experience in both queer and heterosexual spaces. As a bisexual, feminine presenting woman, I’ve been told everything from “Honey! You’re just the worst Lesbian” to “I don’t really think you can be bi, if you’ve done that with a guy” I’ve even had potential partners tell me “Oh sorry I’m just really disappointed....” These comments are all based on harmful assumptions and stereotypes of what it means to be bisexual. . Declaring an open, unequivocal bisexual identity in either straight or gay/lesbian communities frequently results in experiences of discrimination, hostility, and invalidation. This can be taken as the by product of monosexism as outlined in the previous section. However within monosexism we encounter another concept that may help us to better understand bisexuality’s position. Namely the idea of the good sexual citizen. Within this next section, I discuss the impact of “the good sexual citizen” on LGBTQ groups, as this is where my research is based. The concept of sexual citizenship bridges the private and public, and stresses the cultural and political sides of sexual expression. Sexual privacy cannot exist without open sexual cultures. Homosexuality might be consummated in the bedroom, but first partners must be found in the public space. (Hekma, 2008)

Discourses of heteronormativity and heterosexism are known to work against the LGBT subculture. Responding to stigma by seeking similar others, gays, lesbians, bisexuals, trans people, and other queers have coalesced into and constructed a subculture. Networking with similar others can lead to the creation of a group or collective identity. Collective identity can be defined as “an individual’s cognitive, moral, emotional connection with a broader community, category, practice, or institution. It is a perception of shared status or relation” (Polletta and Jasper 2001:285). Collective identity provides a support structure people can call on for behavioral cues and provides a community of shared meaning (Haenfler 2004). Because the dominant culture maintains “disciplinary, productive power” over the LGBT subculture, it

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remains responsible for defining and describing the LGBT subculture on its terms (Spade 2006). Therefore heteronormativity has impacted LGBT subculture and operates within it. Within the subculture, a division exists between those who seek assimilation into the mainstream culture and those who seek liberation from dominant social and cultural norms and expectations. This assimilist strategy is what Duggan describes as homonormativity “a politics that does not contest dominant heteronormative assumptions and institutions — such as marriage, and its call for monogamy and reproduction — but upholds and sustains them while promising the possibility of a demobilized gay constituency and a privatized, depoliticized gay culture anchored in domesticity and consumption.” (2002;175) These homonormative practices within LGBTQ subculture practices further marginalize those who do not fit hegemonic gender and sexual ideals, drag queens, the BDSM community, butch dykes, the genderqueer, the polyamorous and countless others.

Organization of a social movement around the LGBT subculture has led to the forging of a unified gay and lesbian identity. Slogans such as “Normal” and “Born this way” have solidified the idea of sexual identities as authentic and unchanging. Bisexuals and trans people are still marginalized within the movement, at least in part because the idea of a unified lesbian and gay identity is similar to ethnic identity—it is believed to be an essential, immutable characteristic of human beings. Because bisexual people are attracted to a range of genders and gender expressions and trans people often challenge or transcend gender norms, they represent some fluidity in sexual and gender expression and are not as easy to assimilate into an ethnic-like identity for political purposes (Devor and Matte 2006) Even though multiple social and political movements exist within the LGBT movement and is present in most LGBTQ groups, political change is often sought by asserting that the interests of gay men and lesbians are the same (Chasin 2000). Bernstein (2002) studied gay and lesbian mobilization in Canada on the topic of adoption rights. She argues that ethnic-like gay and lesbian identity is forged not because individuals adhere to essentialist notions of gender and sexuality, but rather because essentialist, ethnic-like language is more accessible to those who hold political power. A message of “just like you” has been one of the main campaign tools used in this form of debate. Yet in order to be “just like” heterosexuals within the power structure, individuals must perform heteronormative ideals of gender and sexuality. Individual difference and queer realities are lost in the process of asserting normality.

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Just as Lorde tells us “the masters tools will never dismantle the masters house” we may question how productive using the tools of heteronormativity, namely marriage, consumerism and the military will be in challenging heteronormativity.

Walters notes that “we may be seen, now, but I’m not sure we are known” (2001; 10, italics hers). She is referring to the portrayals of LGBTQ characters within popular culture. Though these characters are becoming more prominent all of these portrayals skirt the realities and implications of homosexuality by desexualizing the characters – by almost never depicting them in romantic or sexual situations (Gross, 2001; Walters, 2001) For Example: Mitch and Cam on the popular ABC show Modern Family, are never seen in a sexual situation. They love each other yes, however unlike the other adult characters on the show they are never seen in sexual positions or even alluding to that possibility. A more common theme is that, gay characters are presented devoid of queer social and political contexts, thus capable of being wholly grafted onto established heterosexual communities and contexts; and their presence used as a catalyst for heterosexual characters’ growth and understanding. (Walters 2001)

These depictions of Gay (because it’s rarely lesbian, it’s less often bisexual and it’s never trans) characters on television speaks to a broader discourse on what constitutes a good sexual citizen. The broader division people make is not simply a division based on essential characteristics but rather a moral distinction between the normal, good heterosexual subject and its abnormal, bad other—the homosexual (Hennessy 2000; Seidman 2002). Identities portrayed within popular culture, a boundary was drawn around identities that are easily conceptualized as authentic, immutable, and consistent, creating a line between identities that are easily legitimated and fluid gender and sexual identities that challenge normative ideas about authenticity. Thus bisexual characters are most often portrayed as confused over their sexuality, as deviant or outcasts. The power possessed by those in privileged positions allows them to claim an identity without challenge. The good sexual citizen is necessarily heterosexual, which leads to the oppression of LGBTQ people. Yet some LGBTQ people may seek refuge from this oppression through adherence to the norms and behaviors of the dominant heterosexual group.

The idea of the good sexual citizen is oppressive to all, heterosexual and LGBTQ+ people. While it may seem unusual that an institution which privileges some can be oppressive to all, the creation of an institution which privileges heterosexuality

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oppressive even to those who are closest to its ideals. Its heterosexism means that LGBTQ people are oppressed. As men retain power within this framework women are oppressed. These notions are based on white, middle-class assumptions about gendered relations, they lead to the oppression of people of color and class oppression. Thus leaving a small group of middle class, white, cisgender straight men in power. Yet the confines of masculinity within this group are so overbearing that the privilege conferred by being a part of this group is not outweighed by the pressures to conform to its rules. Homonormativity is a process which aims to assimilate LGBTQ people within the heterosexist idea of the good sexual citizen. It does this through the appropriation of its institutions of power. Namely through marriage, the military and consumerism. For example the current debates on marriage equality requires that lesbians and gay men accept, celebrate, and perpetuate heterosexual norms of sex within loving, monogamous relationships meant to nurture and legitimate offspring. A focus on the symbolic child and the couple is a change from the movements former focus on individual human rights. Likewise Belkin (2008) highlights the choice is made by LGBT movement to ignore high numbers of instances of male-on-male rape (where the victim is more often gay than straight) within the military and to depict the military as an unproblematic institution instead.The homonormative LGBTQ movement instead focuses on the ability for homosexuals to conform to ideas of masculinity, as Belkin summarizes “the public to repeal DADT [Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell] is to demonstrate that gay men and lesbians are equally capable of conforming to the military’s expectations of discipline, honor, and self-sacrifice” (Belkin 2008;183). Here, adherence to heterosexist assumptions about appropriate masculine behavior denies the existence and occurrence of male-on-male rape within the armed services—requiring men to sacrifice their autonomy (even over their own bodies) in return for normality and military service. Those who confirm to the ideals offered to us by homonormativity may lessen their oppression under the ideology of the good sexual citizen. Those members of the LGBTQ community who conform to the expectations of their sex, who are monogamous, monosexual, middle class and white may benefit from some privileges within this power structure. Their privilege is of course tapered by their homosexuality and within the overbearing oppression of gendered expectations. Gay men benefit most within this homonormative framework.

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Moving Forward, I hope that the theoretical frameworks outlined in this section will be helpful in understanding bisexuality’s tentative place with the LGBTQ subculture. I propose to use a bisexual epistemology informed by poststructuralism and queer theory to study how bisexual people form and manage their identities. Awareness of the social contexts of sexual identity formation and the discourses projecting monosexism, provides a basis for understanding how individuals navigate their identities; how their identities form and are formed by social institutions and discourses.

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Chapter Three

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Exploring Ethnography

This chapter examines the methodological choices made as part of this dissertation, we start with a question that I feel is important to any researcher writing in this field; What implications will a

Bisexual theoretical framework have on methodology?

In general queer theorizing can be seen as critiquing and refusing traditional methods (Halberstam, 1998). In this case what would a bisexual methodology even look like? Drawing on the post structuralist and postmodernist approaches, the researcher must see their subjects as fluid, unstable and in a constant state of becoming. What meanings can we draw from, and what use can we make of, such data when it is only momentarily fixed and certain? (Browne and Nash, 2010) What influence will queer conceptualizations have on my methodological choices and in what ways? Can social science methods be bisexual? Or will we have to settle for “Bi+ Enough”?

As outlined, I hold some concerns over bisexual inclusion in queer theory. However I also concede that queer theory has much to offer the researcher in the field of sexuality. Being cautious of the dangers and risks of queer theory, I mobilize it as an anthropological tool for the development of a queer ethnography. By prefacing ethnography with queer, I do not mean that this project is queer simply due to its focus on bisexual subjects in queer groups. Instead, as argued by Alison Rooke (2010), a queer ethnography utilizes queer theory to question the conventions and methodology of ethnographic research. Ethnography itself is already marked as queer for it is not exactly a method, but more of an intellectual principle based on the concept of participant observation.

Rooke (2010) suggests that ethnographic methodology is constructed on the assumptions of a fictitious ethnographic time and space. A researcher enters the field at a specific time and place. However, where does the “field” start and end? Its boundaries are not as clear as they are thought to be. What if I run into a participant after I have left the field? Is that a moment of fieldwork? What about insistences of observed bi erasure that have existed outside of the time frame of this project? As a bisexual person who’s friendships primarily consists of members of these groups, then when and where does my ethnographic time and space start and end? As Halberstam (2011) points out, time

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and space are social constructions that are internalized and are a product of postmodernism.Thus, ethnographic practice establishes its own temporal and spatial normatively.

A queer ethnography is also characterized by the disruption of the ontological ethnographic self that tends to be at the center of sociological reflexive writing. It aims to show the fluid and constantly changing social position of the ethnographic self and that the construction of identity is a contextual process. Clifford and Marcus (1986) reminds us that the ethnographic process destabilizes the ethnographer’s sense of self: “You don’t exactly penetrate another culture, as the masculinist image would have it. You put yourself in its way and it bodies forth and enmeshes you”. Thus a queer ethnography, undoes the idea of the researcher as a stable constant identity, and rather embraces the process of the researcher as experiencing constant shift in identity and subjectivity. At the same time a queer ethnography calls attention to the ethnographer’s own “subjectivity, positionally and embodiment” by exposing her attachment to identity categories.

Discourse Analysis

This thesis adopts a discourse analytic approach in order to address the experiences of Bi+ members of LGBTQ social and political groups and the way in which these groups circulate and incite discourses of homonormativity and monosexism. Discourse analysis allows for discursive constructions of homonormativity and its various iterations for bisexual identities to be read through group interactions with their bisexual members. In this case, discourse is understood in the Foucauldian sense as not only specific sets of knowledge that allow us to understand the world through, for example, verbal and non-verbal language, but also as a practice, or way of knowing, that produces the contours of how we are able to act within the world (Locke, 2004). Discourse is also inherently linked to dominant, and often competing, ideologies: ideologies are perpetuated through discourse, and as such become seen as ‘natural’ or ‘common sense’, which in turn hides the power structures which they maintain (Lazar, 2005). Critical discourse analysis relies on Foucauldian analyses of power; power that is discursive in nature and is therefore acted and re-enacted “in the talk and text of everyday life” in often invisible ways (Lazar, 2005: 9).

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One of the key draws to discourse analysis is that it allows for a multitude of meanings to be drawn from one “text”. As a researcher using this methodology, the challenge is not only to recognize the multiple and competing discourses within the text but also their relationships to each other. For example one particular text may include interwoven discourses of homonormativity, patriarchy and monosexism, these multiple discourses have been analyzed in relation to one another. This emphasis on multiple discourses makes inter-discursive analysis appropriate for identifying changing discourses surrounding complex identities, such as gender or sexual identities. When researching representations of bisexuality and erasure in cultural texts, discourse analysis is particularly helpful in highlighting connections between the text, its production and its reception (Browne and Nash, 2010).

As previously outlined, the aims of this research is to bring together the theoretical and lived experiences of bisexuality. Part of this consists of rejecting traditional research boundaries. Research boundaries which focus on distinctive differences between theory/ data, queer/normative, researcher/ participants. Heckert (2010) argues for what he calls “promiscuous reading” arguing that the researcher should read beyond Butler, Sedgwick and Foucault and draw inspiration and theory from everywhere. Troubling the line between data and theory Heckert advocates for the reading of zines, novels and song lyrics. As Sociologists our “theory” owes a debt to the work of many people whose theoretical efforts are unlikely to be granted the same social status as our own academic work. To theorize is a social practice. Our understandings of theory are not all shaped by philosophy and data collection but through participation in social life. Like any other practice, theory has effects: potential dispute or contribute to systems of domination (or in many cases both).

Interviews

I conducted twelve qualitative, in-depth, semi-structured, face-to-face interviews. I entered the interviews with a high degree of self-reflexivity, by examining my own subjectivities. Closely related to critical self-reflexivity is the idea that the researcher should disclose and interrogate their own social location into the qualitative interview. It is important for the queer researcher to be aware of their own power and privilege

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during the research process, and that this should be perhaps be verbalized within interactions with research participants, as well as within data analysis and representation. I endeavored to be transparent in my interviewing style, I acknowledged my position as a bisexual woman and a researcher. I did in some places share my experiences with participants on the issues of exclusion, butch/femme dynamics, coming out etc.... In doing this I did risk influencing the participants’ responses. However I tried my best to communicate openly with each of the participants and to be honest about my own experiences and motivations. I did this in the hope that the participants in return would be open and honest with me. My initial aim was to document the experiences of bisexuals in LGBTQ groups paying particular attention to the social aspects of the groups. That continues to be the narrative arc of this thesis, however my interviews yielded an number of twists and turns that I had not anticipated. Most of all, I had not been prepared for my emotional response to the interviews. Many of my bisexual comrades made me feel so welcome in their lives, allowing me to share in their experiences. They travelled to meet me, they greeted me with hugs and smiles and spoke to me about their own vulnerability, their battles with depression, their intimate moments, their search for acceptance. I found after the interviews I wanted to hug my participants and thank them throughly for everything they had shared with me. At the time, I labeled the emotions I was feeling as solidarity. I realize afterwards that the emotions I was experiencing were a combination of sorrow, joy, pride, empathy, acceptance and surely countless others. Given their profound effect, it seems vital to think about the ways feelings are produced, disciplined and reproduced. How they shape our views of what is politically possible, desirable and necessary.

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Since I was a teenager I have been occupying queer spaces, first at a youth group, then with my university society, then with groups of political and social groups and finally now as I write my masters thesis. As such my work is heavily influenced from my own personal expirences, emotions and observations.. This work therefore aims to use participant observation to its greatest potential, rather than the traditional and distanced idea of participant observation, this piece of writing aims to embrace the writers own positionally as well as her emotional and erotic subjectivities (Brown, and Nash, 2000) Rooke (2010) who can be seen grabbling with queer theories textualism and sociology's loyalty to scientific methods, calls for a “queer sociological ethnographic perspective” that considers the researchers own sexual subjectivity and the role that emotional connection and erotic desire has played in research. She challenges the assumption that we are ever really able to create a stable ethnographic “self” and maintain distance from our informants during the writing process. She calls for the acceptance of our emotional connections to our field work. As a bisexual woman, erasure is something beyond the observable to me. It is something that impacts my life emotionally. I hope that by utilizing participant observation. I will be able to harness this emotional connection to the field and create research which accepts the embodied knowledges of myself and others.

Influenced primarily by ethnomethodlogy, the role of “self-reflexivity” within social research has been particularly influential in the last few decades. The influential collection edited by James Clifford and George Marcus (1986) questions the traditional view of ethnography as some type of transparent representation. An uncensored, single cultural reality. Research is not reported, it is written. Academic writing is a process of manufacturing, developing and construction according to rules and politics of the sociological discipline which privileges certain voices over others. (Finlay, 1999)