The summer was, to put it lightly, stressful. I moved, had a few break ups, had a lot of mental break downs and a car break down. But now I'm in my new place, healthier relationships, and I've even gotten comfortable riding the bus. I'm actually feeling rather positive about this semester (but just check back with me tomorrow, I'll probably be back to Dexter the Depressed, whom we all know and don't really love).
Throughout all the crazy madness of summer, I was (theoretically) doing research for my thesis. So now that the semester has actually started, I've started actually doing more work on it, and it's made me realize a couple of things.
My thesis is on asexuality and burlesque. I've been extremely fortunate in all the support I've received from both inside and outside my department. I've even connected with the local burlesque troupe and I may actually get to do burlesque and get some awesome exciting fun experience.
The thesis itself has shifted to focus on performing identity, specifically queer identity, specifically asexual identity. Which I mean, makes sense. I've been an out and proud ace for at least three years now.
But I've never really felt comfortable identifying as queer or lgbtq+. Lots of people don't believe asexuality belongs in the community. Some asexually identifying people don't care and don't feel the need to be part of the community. But I do, and I always have, but have been afraid to say so in regards to myself, especially in something as important as my thesis.
In the School of Dance, being queer is totally fine. But is being ace fine?
Sitting in my into to lgbt studies class, I suddenly wonder if the professor or the students around me will actually be okay with me being there, or if they'll accuse me of being an imposter, a wannabe.
I could go on about acephobia and cite some nasty experiences, but my point is, it's awfully hard to write about performance identity when you're afraid that your identity isn't valid. It's very hard to stake your master's degree on your identity, when you're worried that your identity is invisibilized and ignored and mislabeled time and time again.
My main concern with actually performing an asexual burlesque was that people wouldn't get it, would be angry at it, would dismiss it. At best, they just wouldn't even notice the asexual jokes or themes. So what's the point?
The School of Dance has a guest artist in residency right now, Marjani Forte-Saunders (look her up, she's amazing), and she came to our dance theory class yesterday. We read and discussed a lot of stuff, but what really stuck with me was her response to critics and audience members who couldn't identify or find themselves in her work. "No, not for you. Enjoy." She also showed a clip of an interview with Arthur Jafa (check it out here), who talked about how everyone except white males have had to walk through the world constantly putting themselves in the role of a white male in order to identify with or enjoy entertainment and art, because everything is oriented or aimed at white males.
So you don't need to talk to white males. You don't need to find some way to appeal to the majority. If it's not about them, then it's fine. They have enough stuff about them. They can still listen in and watch, but they do not need to be able to find themselves in the work.
No, this is not about you. Enjoy the show.
--Dexter
PS. But still I kind of feel like in order to write a successful master's thesis, I should probably worry about it. Ugh.
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