Tonight I conclude Michelle Gibson, Martha Marinara, and Deborah Meem's article entitled "Bi, Butch, Bar Dyke: Pedagogical Performance of Class, Gender, and Sexuality" with Michelle Gibson's "Bar Dyke: A Cocktail Waitress Teaches Writing" section and the conclusion.

Gibson discusses her annual reappointment dossier and how the fact that if her "intellectual/emotional striptease [her metaphor for her tell all in her dossier] did nothing to help [her] create a space in the academy for students and faculty who perform identities such as femme lesbian, survivor of family violence, or recovering mental patient, then all that it did accomplish was to leave [her] standing buck naked in front of an audience" (557).  I have to admit that this really made me feel uneasy inside.  My annual review is due at the end of this month, and I can completely relate to so much of what Gibson says.  Would revealing my true thoughts and feelings in my written review set me up for failure?  I have only been in my position for two years, and am up for contract renewal next year.  My job is not tenure track, so I'm sure they can fire me without little cause.  While I did not come from a violent family like Gibson, and have yet to suffer a mental break, I do come from the Appalachian mountains of Virginia, and often feel like I am an imposer about to be found out in the academy.  Surprisingly though, this helps me connect with some students who feel insecure in their academic lives, and this empathy hopefully helps me approach my teaching in a little different way.

I also think it makes me a better teacher, because I do know where so many students are coming from.  They aren't the ones whose families have a lot of money and they have the privilege of doing their four years of college without student loans and working at least half-time jobs.  No, I relate to those students who come from working families: families who can't afford to send their kids to school.  I relate closest to the students who work 20-40 hours a week and take a full-time load of classes.  The ones who often look tired during class, but who are there nonetheless.  I hope I never forget what it felt like to be that student.

This article has been another eye-opener for me.  When I read things like this, things that I actually relate too on such a personal level, it makes this blog difficult.  I have revealed more about myself through these readings than I ever thought possible.  And yes, most of the time I write, erase, re-write, erase, and then say, "What the hell" and write what I first intended.  I am truly on a journey with this project, and one that I never thought I would be.  This piece on identity has helped me understand more about myself and about my teaching.  It doesn't get much better than this.

Tonight I continued Michelle Gibson, Martha Marinara, and Deborah Meem's article entitled "Bi, Butch, Bar Dyke: Pedagogical Performance of Class, Gender, and Sexuality."  And as the title of this post indicates, we're moving to the Butches, written by Deborah Meem.  Before we begin, however, I just want to say that I am not a fan of "labels" as it were.  Labels often create binaries, and in those binaries things become fixed.  If I've learned anything over the past 8 years, it is that identity is never fixed, which is what I believe these three women are arguing as well with their own personal narratives.

Meem gives us three (really four) personal narratives about her identity as a Butch lesbian.  She gives us a chart that is often used in women's studies courses called the "Multiple, Simultaneous Identities" chart.  The top line identities are privileged, the second line less privileged, and the third the least.  The chart shows that we all inhabit, or perform, different identities.  While being a lesbian/gay is a less privileged position to hold, Meem places "butch" on the top, or most privileged, line.  Her three stories actually demonstrate why she has made this identity one of privilege, and after I gave it some serious thought, I can see her point. 

This embodied performance of a more masculine persona actually brings with it a degree of power.  You are perceived to have these masculine traits that even men respect.  Well, once again, the ole light bulbs starting going off in my head.  Again, I do not label myself, but I believe I am perceived as having a more butch identity than that of femme.  If this is indeed the case, than I suppose, according to Meem's theory, this gives me a higher degree of power.  People see me as being strong, confident, and decisive (all traits that are usually associated more with a masculine identity than a feminine one).  Perhaps this explains why I have often found myself in positions of leadership or authority, when all I was trying to do was  stay hidden.

Meem mention the Bem Sex-Role Inventory test, so I decided to go online to see if I could find one.  I did and decided "what the hell, not like I'm holding anything back here" and so I took the test.  To see the results, click the more button at the bottom.  The fact is, Meem's has opened my eyes to how, once again, we perform so many different identities on a daily basis.  Can't wait to see what the Bar Dyke has to say!!!!