There are sacrifices to embracing my femininity after years of trying to "look like a dyke" so I could find a date and be recognized as queer. In a misogynistic society, the more feminine I present, the less respect I garner; not only from strait men, but from my fellow queers as well. Yes I gain adoration for the way my ass looks in heels, but that is not the same as respect. Yes I make better tips as a cocktail waitress when I wear lipstick and shake it on the dance floor. Yes I have power. I have the kind of power that comes from owning my femininity, and I use it. And it feels good. But I have to fight that much harder to be taken seriously in the classroom or at my real job. I have to use my intelligence and my wit to avoid dangerous encounters with men who have no intention of respecting me. I have to endure the "your not a real dyke" attitude and defend my right to present my gender in way that feels good to me.

I was in a group of folks recently, wherein the gender expression and makeup was scattered along some invisible continuum between masculine and feminine – and I watched. I watched as the attention of the group migrated to whomever was the most masculine presenting speaker in the conversation. I watched as the most feminine speakers were quickly discounted or ignored. It was subtle, but this kind of ingrained attitude and behavior is possibly unavoidable in our culture (most cultures). Which is why it is so important to support each other in the differing ways we struggle through the daily bullshit thrown at us for being queer, being female, wearing skirts, or having an unorthodox gender presentation. All we have sometimes is the love and tenderness waiting for us when we get home and close the door behind us. Quibbling about who has more privilege or power or respect is not supportive, but engaging in these dialogs feels strengthening. It enables us to support each other better and love each other more fully.

All this to say thanks to you and Belle for posting and facilitating this discussion. Y'all are a beacon for those of us who just don't have enough access to quality butch/femme sex-positive queer culture anymore.

Thank you.

grr. the guilt :(

[ maybe your ex never called you out on your femme privilege because you don't use & abuse it. perhaps it wasn't a factor between you. that doesn't mean you neglected her. it's like any other kind of privilege, I think - being aware of it is a big step, and sometimes as much as you can do. I want to discourage you from feeling guilty - or, at least, to encourage you to take the guilt feeling and put it into something useful, like knowledge & empowerment, rather than just feeling bad about it. I certainly don't begrudge femmes any privilege they may have, it's just a fact of living in this social hierarchy that values femininity - and sex-gender alignment - in certain ways. -- ss]

I constantly have a choice about whether to be forthright about my politics (which are fairly radical for the community I live in) or to "pass" as a completely normative, more or less conventionally feminine married woman. I mean, I can pass as a soccer mom if I so choose (and I sometimes do). Of course this is easy and comfortable – the default position.

For me, I think that precisely this privilege engenders an obligation to claim my feminist principles – and to act as an ally to those with less heteronormative privilege – even (or maybe especially) when it's uncomfortable to do so. Of course, this isn't a parallel situation to a femme passing (or not) because I'm unlikely to suffer very severe consequences if I out myself as a feminist or ally. No one is going to beat me up. Probably the worst thing that has ever happened to me as a feminist was intrusive questioning by an INS agent: he wanted to know why I had a different last name than my husband before he let me back into the country. That's pretty tame stuff (and even so I was sweating bullets).

Admitting my privilege is not the same as ranking oppressions (which I totally agree is a fruitless and destructive game). It's just the first step toward committing to justice for people whose situation isn't largely the same as my own.

[ Very good point - there are many different kinds of privilege, and for those of us who occupy the radical margins, what kind of responsibility do we have to out ourselves when we pass as 'normal'? Thanks for the comment! - ss ]

"I do not equate my oppression with the oppression of blacks and Latinos. You can't. It is not the same struggle, but it is one struggle. And, if my being here as a longtime gay activist can influence other people in the gay community, it's worth getting arrested. I'm an old man now. I don't look forward to spending 24 hours in a cell. But these arrests are giving some kind of message. I don't know what else you can do."

I think of this too when people talk about (or, more frequently, try to deny the existence of) "bisexual privilege". There must be a way we can talk about privileges without downplaying the constraints and contradictions that come with them.