By: Sunny Yang Swarthmore College Abstract:
This paper explores how female same-sex relationships in the Caribbean, or mati work, are situated within the Caribbean discourse of respectability and reputation. I argue that mati work both parallels working-class heterosexual relationships and contests colonial notions of respectability, while also enabling women to challenge the male- centered culture of reputation.
To explore these claims, my paper is structured as follows: I begin by examining the parallels between mati relationships and heterosexual relationships with particular focus on age, sexual-economic exchange, and gendered roles. I then position mati work within the framework of creolization and culture-building and discuss the ways in which it challenges European notions of respectability. I end by discussing how mati work empowers women and allows them to negotiate masculine control and resist the male- centered culture of reputation. Through my analysis, I hope to illustrate how female queerness is both situated within and actively negotiating and expanding the boundaries of the realms of respectability and reputation.
Queerness occupies a tenuous and indeterminate place in the Caribbean discourse of respectability and reputation. Both criminalized by the ultimate institution and arbiter of respectability, the state (Alexander 2005), and actively rejected in the reputation-based raga dance-hall culture (Cooper 1993; Noble 2000; Saunders 2003), queerness is
seemingly positioned outside of these two oppositional spheres. However, as Gloria Wekker’s ethnography of Surinamese same-sex female relationships, termed “mati work,” indicates, queer relationships are not entirely removed from the dynamics of respectability and reputation. In this paper, I argue that mati work both parallels working- class heterosexual relationships and contests colonial notions of respectability, as well as empowers women to challenge the male-centered culture of reputation.
Mati work, as defined by Wekker, involves the sexual relationships between women and other women. In this case, “work” is not associated with labor, but rather, is interchangeable with the term “relationship.” Mati work thus describes a sexual
relationship that exists between two women, but unlike Western understandings of lesbian relationships, it does not necessarily involve exclusive same-sex relations and can simultaneously or consecutively occur alongside heterosexual partnerships (Wekker 2006, 2). This is a particularly important distinction to make, as it illuminates one of the reasons why there are such overlaps between mati relationships and heterosexual ones.
As Wekker notes, there are “leakages” between same-sexed and opposite-sexed relationships and “the notion that the same-gendered arena proceeds according to a specific set of ideas, rules, and practices, which is totally distinct and insulated from what takes place in the opposite-gendered domain, cannot be held up” (1999, 131). In other words, there are parallels between the structures and dynamics of mati relationships and
heterosexual ones. Examples of these parallels include the age gap between partners, the normalization of economic transactions in sexual relationships, and the taking of
gendered roles in some mati relationships.
The first example of a “leakage” is the age gap which generally characterizes both mati and heterosexual relationships. Large differences in the ages between partners are not seen as necessarily inappropriate, but rather, are considered as customary (Wekker 2006, 184). In heterosexual relationships, this is often the result of the financial
transactions involved in sexual relationships. Men who are older are often more
financially established and thus have the economic means to support the women that they are with. As Rhonda Sue, a woman engaged in mati work, notes in her testimonial for a collection of narratives entitled Tongues on Fire: Caribbean Lesbian Lives and Stories, when she was younger, she was involved with a seventy year old man because he gave her “a house, land, a car” (Elwin 1997, 22-23). Age differences are thus normalized in Caribbean heterosexual relationships based on the assumption that financial support is an underlying motivation.
In mati work, older women usually initiate younger women and transmit their mati knowledge, both sexual and otherwise, from one generation to the other (Wekker 2006, 187). In over half of the testimonials presented in Tongues on Fire, the woman’s first mati sexual experience was with an older and experienced woman. This ranged from age gaps as “small” as a woman, Daphne, whose first lover at the age of fourteen was nineteen (Elwin 1997, 58), to Pulcheria Theresa Willie, whose first experience at the age of eighteen was with a forty year old woman (82). The age difference in mati
relationships is normalized given that these relationships are grounded in the transmission
of knowledge between generations. The older woman seduces the younger to initiate her into mati work as well as teach her about the rules of behavior involved.
A second motive behind the age gap in mati relationships involves the
comparative financial security of older women. In these cases, the older woman “will spoil the girl with presents, jewelry, and clothes” in return for her “absolute fidelity”
(Wekker 2006, 186). This brings us to the second overlap between heterosexual and mati relationships, which is the role of economic support that is expected within sexual
relationships. This ties to Kamala Kempadoo’s point that “Caribbean sexuality
is…deeply linked to the economy” (Kempadoo 2004, 39). It does not necessarily “have to do with a reciprocity of sexual desire or feelings of love,” but rather, can involve a satisfying relationship based on money and economic support (43-44).
In heterosexual relationships, the role of money is more explicitly acknowledged.
Women “envision a relatively straightforward exchange relationship between sex and money in their connections with men” (Wekker 1999, 126). In other words, sex becomes a means for working-class women to use for their economic survival and benefit (Wekker 2006, 117). Women’s relationships with men are based on the man’s economic position, and it is thought of as pointless to pursue a relationship with a man who cannot be financially supportive (142).
In mati relationships, on the other hand, money is not as solely and directly required. Relationships are based on a multitude of obligations, which include “the sharing of everyday concerns, the raising of children, nurturing, emotional support, and sexual pleasure” (Wekker 1999, 127). However, money still plays a role in mati
relationships. Female lovers are expected to share money and help each other financially
(ibid). These financial obligations can range from two women sharing resources and market booths to something as simple as buying enough fabric for two dresses instead of one (Wekker 2006, 46). In other words, while economic support is not the sole basis for mati relationships, the sharing of financial resources is still considered an integral and necessary aspect of a partnership.
Ironically, the normalized sexual-economic nature of Caribbean relationships creates the space for mati work. According to Kempadoo, transactional sex, which describes the relationship where gifts are given in exchange for sex, allows for multiple partnerships to be maintained (Kempadoo 2004, 42). Under this paradigm, women could potentially be engaged with multiple partners that may be either male or female. The exchange aspect of sexual relationships allows the emphasis to be placed on the
economic offerings and not the biological sex of the partner involved. In this way, same- sex relationships may be offered a form of legitimacy given that financial obligations are still salient in the relationship. The paramount aim for beginning a relationship, financial security, can be achieved with either a male or female partner.
The third parallel between heterosexual and same-sex relationships involves the striking tendency for mati relationships to be structured along gendered lines. Mati relationships often involve a gendered division of labor, with one partner playing the man/man role and the other playing the uma/woman part (Wekker 2006, 194). The roles
denote the sexual dynamics in the relationship, with the woman playing the man having more power in dictating and directing the sexual relationship. Similarly, the “man” in the relationship “can demand more privileges and freedoms” (ibid). In mati relationships, this gendered dynamic is considered normal and unavoidable. As Wekker notes, “Almost all
women agreed that two ‘women’ or two ‘men’ cannot be together” since “polarization in roles is deemed necessary and ‘natural’” (ibid).
An important caveat to make is that the supposed ubiquity of gendered roles in same-sex relationships could be simply the result of a heteronormative perspective (Wekker 2006, 197). Two women who are both playing the “feminine” role may not be recognized as being in a same-sex relationship. This ambiguity corresponds to Rosamund Elwin’s discussion of “zami” in her introduction to Tongues on Fire: “your zami was your closest friend” or “a zami was intimate with other women or with another woman”
(1997, 10). In other words, the relationship between two women is always fraught with sexual ambiguity to the viewer. Two women could be “zami” and merely best friends, or
“zami” engaged in a sexual relationship.
Furthermore, these gendered dynamics in mati work, while usually fixed in a specific relationship, are fluid in the larger context. A woman may play the “feminine”
role in one relationship and then switch to the “masculine” in another (Wekker 2006, 194). In other words, the gendered roles that women play are not essential or
predetermined, but rather, based on the specific dynamics between two specific women in a specific relationship.
This fluid conception of gender in the individual is in accordance with a Creole working-class universe (Wekker 1999, 132). According to Wekker, under this paradigm,
“a person is conceived of as multiple, malleable, dynamic, and possessing male and female elements” (ibid). A person is also considered as an inherently sexual being, and the Creole “I”s multiplicitous “selves” instead of “self” are seen as corresponding to multiple sexualities (Wekker 2006, 84). As a result, when women are given different
sexual choices, choosing a same-sex route does not necessarily lead to social disapproval or indicate that the women will forever remain in these sorts of relationships (193).
Rather, the women are seen as expressing one part of their many selves, and their mati work is judged in terms of behavior instead of cohesive identity.
This multiplicitous Creole philosophy of the self, as well as the belief that same- sex behaviors are an aspect of behavior instead of identity, lies in direct contrast to European conceptions of identity and queerness. As Wekker notes, Western thought can be categorized by its “legacy of dichotomy, hierarchy, and permanency,” and the
dominant view of queerness is that it serves as a fixed identity category (Wekker 2006, 193). However, it is necessary to not assume these Western conceptions of identity are universally applicable, especially to the Caribbean setting, but rather, to acknowledge mati work as part of a Creole institution that views the self and identity in different, more fluid terms.
Mati work can be further placed within an oppositional Creole context in that it is actively involved in Caribbean culture-building that transforms and overturns European institutions. To begin with, mati work is facilitated by and often takes the form of the Creole “dynamic complex marriage system,” which is “based on multiple conjugal forms and sequential unions or serial polygamy” (Besson 2001, 27). As Besson notes, despite the European respectability model that focuses on legal marriage and the nuclear family, the Creole marriage system instead involves three conjugal forms: extraresidential unions, consensual cohabitation, and then legal marriage. The first two conjugal forms allow for mati work to occur by enabling women to engage with multiple partners, some of whom may be women (Wekker 2006; Elwin 1997). Furthermore, some matis engage
in partnerships with other women that mirror extraresidential unions and cohabitation.
These mati relationships reflect the “conjugal rights and obligations” (Besson 2001, 27) of unions and cohabitation through requirements of financial, sexual, and emotional support, as well as expectations of fidelity, which increase with the tenure and commitment involved in a relationship (Wekker 2006, 26, 28, 44, 46, 191).
Mati work further contributes to Caribbean culture-building by expanding the scope of kinship and landholding practices. As Besson notes, the dynamic marriage system is significant because it results in complex familial relations that allow land to be transmitted to a multitude of people. Mati work similarly creates new forms of kinship that can allow for transmission of property to be expanded even further. When a mati gives birth while in a relationship with a woman, the child is considered to be part of that woman’s family (Wekker 2006, 24). These kinship ties are considered valid to the point that when the relationship is over, the woman who did not give birth may end up keeping and raising the child (ibid). In other words, family ties are not only created through heterosexual sexual unions, but rather, can occur between same-sex couples.
It is important to acknowledge these forms of kinship ties for two reasons. First, they challenge the heteronormative assumption in traditional kinship studies that the family and domestic units are based on heterosexual relationships (Wekker 2006, 160- 161). In other words, mati work complicates traditional kinship studies by illuminating a non-heterosexual channel for creating family ties. It is important to recognize and further study these relationships in order to fully understand the multiple ways in which families are conceived of and created. A perspective that acknowledges only male-female
relations is heterosexist and ignores fertile grounds to explore new interpretations of and possibilities for the family and kinship unit.
The relationships formed by mati work are further important because they tie to Caribbean landholding and transmission practices that directly challenge European institutions and beliefs. Afro-Caribbean landholding and transmission practices
“maximized scarce land rights and formerly forbidden kinship lines among the descendents of chattel slaves” (Besson 2001, 9). They provided a way for Caribbean peoples to negotiate with European land control and oppose European cultural notions of familial legitimacy. The Caribbean landholding system is also “a creole institution created by the peasantries themselves through Caribbean culture-building” (8). While the notion of passing family land is a European institution, the transmission to descendents regardless of gender or legitimacy such as “legal” marriage or birthright, and in the mati case, heterosexual union, directly contradicts this logic. In other words, familial
relationships formed by mati work further challenge European notions of respectability.
Not only do they occur outside the realm of legal wedlock, but they are also outside of the bounds of heterosexual relationships.
Mati work not only expands the scope of Creole culture-building practices that challenge colonial European notions of respectability, but it also challenges the male culture of reputation. It does so by first acknowledging and positioning women as sexual beings “who can act on their desires” (Wekker 2006, 73). Sexuality and sexual
fulfillment play a significant role in mati work. When one woman feels the need for sexual contact, it is considered the obligation of her partner to satisfy her (191). Mati work thus challenges “notions of female sexuality as passive, muted and non-genital” and
instead presents an “active, vocal, often genitally oriented and above all, self-driven”
representation of female sexuality (73).
This representation of female sexuality is important because it dispels the myth that female sexuality is tied to purposes of procreation. As Kempadoo notes in her study of Jamaican teenage girls, “the second most common reason for girls’ sexual activity, after money, was enjoyment” (Kempadoo 2004, 49). In addition, many of these girls experimented with other girls out of curiosity or lack of access to boys (48). This is reinforced by the testimonials in Tongues on Fire, in which the other half of women who were not seduced by older women in their first same-sex encounter, experimented as children or early adolescents (Elwin 1997). In other words, same-sex relationships offer a space for women to explore their sexuality without the sexual-economic implications of male-female relationships. In this space, sexual gratification, not economics or
procreation, is the primary focus.
Mati work also challenges the male culture of reputation by reducing women’s reliance on men. While “deeply ingrained notions that women ought to have children and need men for money” (Wekker 2006, 33) exist in mati work, women utilize the Creole dynamic marriage system to avoid entering into binding legal arrangements with men. As the main voice of Wekker’s ethnography, Juliette, clearly and “disdainfully” states,
“Marry? Who? Me? I never wanted to marry. I am someone who always loved my independence” (30). While Juliette maintained a steady male partner to economically support herself, she also refused to marry him because “he wanted to sit on me” (ibid), or in other words, limit her freedom. For many working-class women, marriage and
monogamy are seen as undesirable due to “the limitations they bring in terms of
independence” (169). Mati work thus offers itself as an alternative to the constraining conditions of a traditional male and female union.
Having children further allows women to break free from a male partner’s control. Children are seen as a woman’s economic support in her old age. As Juliette notes, “Men are going to leave you, mati are going to leave you, but your children will stay all your life” (Wekker 2006, 30). This perhaps illustrates the reason why mati work does not exclusively involve same-sex relationships. In this case, sexual relations with men are required in order for women to have financial backing in their future. Ironically, the necessity of men in this case does not portend continued female reliance, but rather, allows women to have children who will financially support them. This support also enables women to continue mati work in their old age. Given that there is inevitably a disparity between male and female earning power, the financial backing of multiple children can help support the mati lifestyle of a woman whose female partner might not earn as much as a male one could.
The emphasis on having children in conjunction with mati work fits within a female culture of reputation that stands in opposition to traditional conceptions of
masculine reputation. As Besson notes, motherhood is a basis of reputation for Caribbean women as they “contribute significantly to a woman’s status, symbolize her womanhood, and, potentially, represent the beginning and continuance of her family line” (Besson 2001, 17). Motherhood can thus enable women to enhance their social standing as well as ensure their economic futures. Rather than interpreting matis as women who are forced to have children due to a man’s desire to prove his reputation, motherhood should be seen as
a way in which matis participate in the sphere of reputation, as well as further reduce their reliance on men.
In other words, mati work must be recognized as a way for women to negotiate male control, as well as participate in, and thus challenge, the male culture of reputation.
Mati work’s emphasis on multiple partners allows women to avoid an individual male’s control of their movement, while the economic and emotional support expected in mati relationships provides an alternative to the heterosexual model of relationship altogether.
The emphasis on women participating in heterosexual sexual relations even if engaged in a life of mati work enables women to have children, whose financial support allows women to choose between heterosexual and same-sex relations without economic constraint and enhances their reputation. Finally, the emphasis on sexuality and sexual gratification in mati work allows women to fully express their sexual desires instead of repressing them. It thus frees women from hegemonic constraints and myths regarding female sexuality.
Queerness, or more specifically mati work, holds a special place in the Caribbean discourse of respectability and reputation. While it initially appears to be completely divorced from both spheres, it in fact parallels, challenges, and expands an understanding of the two realms. Mati work not only shares similarities with working-class heterosexual relationships and examples of Caribbean culture-building, but it also expands the scope of these Creole institutions by challenging European institutions and notions of
respectability through new kinship ties that go beyond traditional, heteronormative conceptions of the family. Furthermore, mati work provides an alternative to traditional heterosexual relationships and interpretations of female sexuality. This empowers women
to move beyond repressive and constraining relationships with men and challenges hegemonic notions of passive female sexuality.
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