Loyalty to oneself becomes an essential tool for survival, especially in environments in which one’s basic rights are subject to debate. It’s not like we’re entirely alone in our journeys; we do unrelentingly rely on our relationships that we hold dear. Yet there is so much more we only show to ourselves and the quiet spaces we breathe in. We often fail to think of these very fundamental undertakings as part of building spaces. There is no geography to map or culture to assess; it’s our routine desperations and yearnings we attempt to make sense of. If we’re frugal with ourselves in our inner world, then we maim ourselves emotionally. There is also a certain sense of shame we encounter while confronting the profundity of our desires. It requires courage to not look away. It’s a process of unlearning we do to bypass the guilt, and in closer introspection we get insights about our most cardinal needs and fears, engulfed in those very desires. The trysts we make with our heart day and night, the confessions we make both tender and reprehensible in its clandestine corridors, the hours spent ruminating about certain someone or the distant past, the outpour of sorrow or unruly ecstasy, or even just lying lovelorn on our bedroom floors—everything is part of our making and not just the killing of time. It all paints a picture of self-acceptance—to be able to sit with our thoughts so sincerely without mowing them. At least somewhere in the world we should have spaces of no deceit and the fearlessness to access them.

If we refrain from residing ingeniously in our inner worlds, it’s difficult to imagine a sense of belonging outside. If we are afraid to give ourselves the kind of love and understanding we always dream of, it’s easy to make-believe the crumbs as a whole meal. The reason a lot of us are cynical towards love is because we are fearful of ourselves in the face of a heartbreak. We don’t want to make room for the hurt, with the amount of unprocessed grief we already hold. In the pretence of protecting our own hearts, we engage with our relationships superficially and keep expanding the feeling of lack in ourselves and others. These are only some of the disadvantages of not having spaces within. When we are able to accept ourselves without any contours, we set the groundwork for self-love. Here, one should refer to bell hooks and her belief of self-love as the foundation of our loving practice and love as the practice of freedom. We are best equipped to forge a collective and transform society only from a place of love ethic. If only we are able to articulate our own anguish and analyse our contexts, we can move towards sustained personal and political growth. In this light, one should also read the words of Audre Lorde and her emphasis on holding on to our erotic guides. When we are in a perpetual quest of the erotic in all spheres of our lives, we not only begin to recognise our sources of joy but also what restricts it, and we are moved to make amends. We are also taught how to share ourselves ardently and build genuine collective spaces.

I want to end my thread of thoughts by expressing that the very act of writing this down is an attempt to synchronise my myriad contemplations on what I gather of myself and to assess how far in my own journey I’ve come. This catharsis itself is a creation of space, another keepsake that reaffirms not only my sense of self but also my capacity to claim spaces that are not just my own. It’s part of my own learning process that I have the pleasure of sharing with others.

-Isha Mohan

References:

1. Hooks, Bell. All About Love: New Visions. 2000, ci.nii.ac.jp/ncid/BA52796948.

2. Lorde, Audre. “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power.” Oxford University Press eBooks, 2000, pp. 569–74. https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780198782506.003.0032.

Lesbian, radical, and separatist feminists take extreme positions on essentialist feminism based on the categorization of bodies into sexes. Their ideas have resulted in the creation of exclusionary ‘women-only’ spaces, which indicate an alternative way of living and existence that moves beyond the boundaries of patriarchy and ‘man-made’ society. A reason to create exclusionary separatist spaces is to defy the patriarchal and heteronormative modes of existence and reclaim safe spaces based on identification with womanhood. The exclusion of men is seen in the radical ideas of living in female-only accommodations, creating female communes with no interaction with men, or in ways of gatherings and collectives where the eligibility for membership is the sex of a person. Another form of separatism is practiced by radical feminist lesbians who disengage from men romantically and sexually and free themselves from heterosexual and normative ways of living to practice separatism. Michigan's womyn-only music festival, ‘Michfest,’ is a case of separatist exclusion. It was established in 1976 and stands as an important lesbian cultural event in the area, but it was contested by many. In 1999, a transwoman lesbian was asked to leave the festival on the basis of the gender she was assigned at birth, which was male, hence making her ineligible to enjoy womyn spaces regardless of her gender identity. This begs the question of whether separatist policies employed by feminist separatists are exclusionary and paradoxical, and if the position of transgender women is taken into account to analyze the exclusionary and, at times, discriminatory policies of this form of separatism. The terminology used by such radical feminists, such as ‘womyn,’ indicates the distance they aim to maintain from men. They realize the misogynistic violence perpetuated by men and respond to it by limiting their contact with men and patriarchal structures to protect themselves. However, their identification of danger is based on biology and anatomy, which comes at the expense of transgender women who are willingly or unwillingly excluded from spaces that aim to protect women. Hence, lesbian separatism and feminism based on exclusion are rendered antithetical.

Lesbian separatists often accept the disadvantaged position of transgender women as they not only face misogynistic forms of violence but also experience a form of discrimination specific to them, transmisogyny. Lesbian separatists argue that the discrimination transgender women face is different in nature, justifying their exclusionary beliefs. Hence, trans women might be considered women in some form due to their identification as such, but they are excluded from the category of ‘womyn’. Separatist radical feminists thus create ‘womyn’ as a subcategory of women based on their anatomy. There is an otherization of transgender women by cisgender women, with a commonality among all other women. Trans women who wish to take part in ‘womyn’ spaces are disallowed, as they are seen to pose a danger to ‘womyn’ because of their biology, regardless of their medical transition status. Separatists use ‘female socialization’ and ‘male socialization’ as key differences between ‘womyn’ and transgender women. They argue that regardless of the current status of any transgender woman, she has undergone the process of ‘male socialization,’ which makes her retain male characteristics because of her upbringing and childhood, as she was raised and treated as a man in society.

Interestingly, based on ‘female socialization,’ radical feminists draw a commonality between ‘womyn’ and even transgender men who insist on disengaging themselves from their female identity. Radical feminism thus sought to free women from the shackles of compulsory heterosexuality or any engagement with men, advocating for complete independence from men. Their ideology was based on biological essentialism as they believed that women, with their biological characteristics, are superior to men and that a society shall be made that is exclusionary of men on all grounds. The intersectionality of class, race, ability, and status was overlooked as women were considered to be bound by a common thread of womanhood. They realize the discrimination and violence that occurs in society, but their response to it makes them unique from other feminists. This was criticized by Elizabeth Spelman in ‘Inessential Women; Problems of Exclusion in Feminist Thought’, which problematized the idea of universal womanhood as she considered that it was based on the ideal type of a white middle-class American woman and the idea of femininity was rooted in whiteness. Another form of criticism comes from postmodern and post-structuralists such as Judith Butler in her book ‘Gender Trouble’ who opposes the binary construction of gender and insists that the biological basis for gender identification is redundant as gender, according to her, is performative or it lies in the act of performing femininity and masculinity. She opposes the subject of feminism which relies on biological identity as biological ‘sex’ is merely the gendering of sexual organs. More anti-essentialist queer theorists such as Eve Sedgwick and Diana Fuss have also criticized the bio-essentialist nature of radical feminist beliefs.

Evidence on biological indicators such as chromosomes, hormones, sexual anatomical features show a complexity and cannot be easily deemed as either male or female showing the ontological and biological uncertainty, hence, culture specific to each society creates and shapes the idea of gender through masculinity, femininity and androgyny and in this way, gender is varying in different societies. The debates of feminist lesbians insisting on biological exclusion usually come at odds with the freedom of trans-women and also trans men and gender-nonconforming people.

-Paankhi

Since cishet individuals are often in the majority, the culture of heteronormativity leads to the assumption that everyone is 'by default' cishet. In group settings dominated by cishet people, they typically assume I am not queer either, so they are more likely to "freely" express their opinions about Queer culture. Many of these opinions can be dismissive of the queer experience and sometimes, downright hurtful. Here is where I find myself, in the uncomfortable position of choosing to keep my mouth shut and let the ignorance and hate go by, or risk the chance of being outed.

I still debate if I should carry my pride flag tote bag to college, if I should tell friends I have known for seven years, lest they suddenly stop seeing me as me, or start seeing my queerness as all there is to me. Going to the pride parade but aggressively rubbing off the rainbow painted on our faces. To be neither in or out of the closet but hanging at its edge for dear life, to live this dual existence, this is how we inhabit spaces.

Sometimes, in these cracks of personhood, are others like yourself. A silent wince at a queerphobic comment, a shared laugh at a stereotype, vibing a bit "too much" to songs by Queer artists. In that metro back from the pride parade, I was still wearing that pride badge they handed out, and others were too. As we took our places back in the grey walls of the city, we kept the tradition of smiling silently at each other's rainbow faces, even though we had already washed them away. These silent moments of solidarity, that yes, I am here as well, with you. Yes, I am queer, albeit silently. I find that this kind of solidarity does not care for the limits of words and labels, it cares for each other's existence, and isn't that what solidarity essentially is?

If we were to trace back, there have always been some secret symbols that Queer people would use with others in the community so as to not out themselves. Women would use lavender flowers in their dressing, or send it to each other to show they are interested in women. Men, such as Oscar Wilde wore green carnations. British gay men would use a secret language called "Polari" when homosexuality was illegal in the UK and it wasn't easy to determine who to trust. It is likely such secret languages still exist, not just in the west but in India too, and perhaps it is best they remain a secret.

What I find disheartening is this preoccupation of equating loudness with existence. Certainly overtly loud expressions of Queerness should be celebrated, it is brave, it is vital and there is no denying that. However, disregarding quietness for cowardice also disregards the very idea of inclusion that the queer community holds so dear. It brings in an unnecessary sense of being an imposter: of somehow not belonging to the community, of some sense of "betrayal". These quiet voices are seen with suspicion both within and outside the community. If being queer is to be equated with hanging a pride flag in your room, wearing pride pins on your outfit and dying your hair blue, then is it consumerism we are promoting or expression of an identity? Being queer is not a membership card you have to recharge or get inspections for, it is simply, part of a person. Inhabiting queer spaces is not a shouting competition.

Truth is not something as tangible and simplistic as evidence, it is a larger concept. If the peacock danced in the forest and no one saw it, it still danced, there was still some joy. Even if silently, there is joy in calling a space one's own and no one has monopoly over that.

-Anushka Jain

They were alone now,
no adults to keep a watchful eye on them.
The thing is, adults keep us grounded.
But they didn't need the ground,
not right now,
not when they flew.
There is always a scare of getting one of your wings shot off by
young men who want dinner on their table.
But this scare was nothing compared to the beauty of
the open sky.
The freedom of it all.
They would come down on the ground and become one with it,
as everyone eventually does.
But not right now,
not when the sun shone over them and the wind was light.

-Rupal Dengri

In a world that yearns for conformity,
We rise with colours, bold and brave,
A pride emerges, fierce and strong,
With Our hues and shade shining side by side

With courage and resilience, we upgrade above,
Embracing diversity, defying all lies.
For we are warriors, gallant and unafraid,
Thwarting stereotypes that society has bombarded.

Queer pride is a declaration, a celebration, a powerful shout,
We expect respect, courage in our stride
With arms outstretched wide, a chorus of liberation
We march forward, united in our shared determination

So let us stand together, shoulder to shoulder,
Across this vast and wondrous land,
Queer pride, a celebration of self,
A testament to the human spirit's flight.

-AKSHITA JAIN

In deep shadows, a secret lay,
A heart confused, a mind astray.
A teenage boy, named Arjun,
A silent battle, a hidden game.

Attraction's pull, a puzzling sight,
A girl's allure, a fleeting light.
But whispers stirred, a different tune,
A spark ignited, a love so soon.

A screen's reflection, a stolen glance,
A heart awakened, a lover's chance.
A secret desire, a forbidden dream,
A hidden longing, a silent scream.

Denial's grip, a heavyweight,
A battle within, a cruel fate.
A questioning mind, a troubled soul,
A path uncertain, a future's role.

A kindred spirit, a guiding hand,
A safe haven, a promised land.
A queer embrace, a loving heart,
A newfound freedom, a brand new start.

Acceptance's dawn, a gentle kiss,
A love so pure, a perfect bliss.
A journey's end, a happy sight,
A love eternal, a shining light.

- Mannav Morvi

The creation of such spaces has a rich history and struggle behind them, we seek to remember and celebrate those histories and bring to light the current realities of queer spaces and the negotiations LGBTQ+ folks have made with societies to be recognised. The presence of this collective and this blog itself is a moment in the creation of such spaces by Queer folks and allies and we aim to extend the space to create greater acceptance, amplify diverse voices and engage in meaningful dialogue through the medium of Lavender Lexis. The theme- ‘A Space of One’s Own’ invites writers to explore these spaces and delve into the ways queerness has carved a unique place of representation in legislature, culture, language, geography, and history.

Claim your space, Queer Collective

We draw inspiration from all the activists, thinkers, and writers that have expanded the norms of propriety of expression; Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera who pioneered the Stonewall movements in Greenwich where Pride became recognised, Audre Lorde and Adrienne Rich who used poetry to bring light to the lesbian experience of love and existence, Judith Butler and Michel Foucault who theorised to about gender identity and sexuality by critiquing the dominant notions of the bio-essentialism and power dynamics, and all the other heard and unheard Queer voices which have shaped the world we live in today. While we recognise the dynamic discourses in changing the narratives surrounding gender and sexuality, social change is a process and there is still a long way to go. Despite the progress made by trailblazing figures and evolving conversations, many voices remain unheard and many struggles persist.

This blog is an initiative to continue the tradition of voicing our beliefs by critically engaging with ideas and creatively expressing ourselves while prioritising intersectionality and inclusivity and bringing out the diverse experiences that define LGBTQ+ communities.

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