Outwrite Newsmagazine (Winter 2013) by OutWrite Newsmagazine

QUEER ATHLETES ASEXUALITY POLYAMORY

WINTER 2013

OutWrite is UCLA’s queer and ally newsmagazine. OutWrite, formerly called TenPercent, was established in 1979 and was the first LGBT collegiate newsmagazine in the nation.

CONTENTS 3

Letter From the Editor

Music to My Queer

5 Science Friction 6

Quarantined Queerness

Inside Out

8 Changing the Game qu e e r at h l e t e s at u cl a 10 Life Above the Belt l iv ing as as e xy 13 Beyond Sister Wives t h e many s id e s o f po lyamo ry

Lost in Trans*lation

Edward Violinhands

Dear Editor

Choose Your Own Adventure

Sex Animal Spirit Quiz

OutWrite is an alternative multi-platform media outlet that deals with the issues that matter to young, engaged Queer or LGBTidentified individuals, both at UCLA and beyond. By illuminating topics that are not covered by the mainstream media, and by doing so with a distinctive, frank, passionate and progressive voice, we strive to engage our community and ser ve their needs through dialogue and active expression. The UCLA Communications Board has a media grievance procedure for resolving grievances against any of its media. For a copy of the complete procedure, contact UCLA Student Media at 310. 825. 2787. Copyright 2011 ASUCLA Communications Board

Letter from the Editor This year, my marketing manager had the great idea to have an opinion writing contest for our readers. Any UCLA student could enter for a $100 cash prize, and anyone who liked our page on Facebook could vote. I was so excited about this contest because I was eager to see what our readers and our community had to say. This is what alternative journalism is all about, after all: giving a voice to the voiceless. And as the articles started coming in, I realized a trend—of the few people that submitted articles, the majority of them were from straight people. This is not inherently wrong or bad; we absolutely meant it when we said anyone could enter our contest. And yet, something about the fact that straight people were giving a voice to the queer community on campus rubbed me the wrong way. I will never try to keep people from voicing their opinions; after all, as the editor of a niche magazine, my beliefs are rooted firmly in giving everyone the oppor tunity to speak their opinions, even (and sometimes especially if ) they do not agree with mine. I am so happy to have Meghan Maloney continue this important conversation about what being a good ally means. Meghan’s letter articulates the paradox of being an ally to the queer community in a way that allows both queer and straight people to understand what this paradox means. Being a queer person in a heteronormative world is a complex, isolating, and at times hur tful experience. For this reason, it can be very difficult to hear straight people say they “get it”—that type of suppor t can often feel like a straight person is demeaning our identity, if it is really that easy to just “get”. It comes down to being aware of our own privilege. As a white person, it would be ludicrous for me to ever talk about living as a person of color. Similarly, heterosexual people can never possibly understand what it means to be queer in a society that looks down on anything that does not strictly adhere to gender roles. I say this not to punish or criticize the writers who entered our contest, or for the many people who read those articles and agreed with them. Rather, I hope to use the platform of Outwrite to challenge us all to think about what life is like for people who do not have the privileges we have—and furthermore, to not assume we could ever really know what it is like to live without them. We all face our own privileges and our own oppressions, and it is our ability to discuss both these privileges and these oppressions that makes any form of progress possible. I thank you all for reading, writing, and responding to the ideas of Outwrite, whether it is online, in print, or during drunken late-night discussions with your friends. You make the world a little bit easier for all of us to live in. Happy reading!

www.outwritenewsmag.org facebook.com/outwritenewsmag @outwritenewsmag EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Katie Schowengerdt MANAGING EDITOR Br yan Platz MARKETING MANAGER Austin Rose WRITERS Kyle Brees Kayla Vernon Clark Stephanie Gilber t Will Herder Gabe Hongsdusit Lee Jasperse Gabrielle Juarez Logan Linnane Zachar y Robinson Alejandra Rodriguez Austin Rose Kenny Saleh Sam Wang DESIGNER April Lee PHOTOGRAPHER Ar thur Pham ILLUSTRATOR Will Herder COPY EDITOR Stephanie Gilber t COVER PHOTO Ar thur Pham PRINTED BY International Daily News This magazine was made possible with the suppor t of Campus Progress, a project of the Center for American Progress, online at CampusProgress.org

Queer Rap Cakes Da Killa - Rapid Fire (ft. Dai Burger) House of LaDosha - This is UR Brain Mykki Blanco - Haze.Boogie.Life Deep Dickollective - For Colored Boys LE1F - Mind Body

QueerCore Huggy Bear - Pansy Twist Halflings - Oi! Oi! We Fuck Boys! Warpath - Abomination The Third Sex - Mombies Pansy Division - Fem in a Black Leather Jacket Two Nice Girls - The Queer Song its presence known and celebrated. Queer rap values empowerment over misogyny and unity over divisions. If queer rap is smooth, swanky and rhythmic, then QueerCore is its dark, grimy cousin.. Also known as Homocore, this genre branched off the punk movement from the late 80’s and early 90’s, tak ing the era’s angst and lighting a f ire under it with the fuel of the LGBT rights movement. Think of it as spoken word— or maybe more like screamed word—belted out by some of the most badass, righteous queers that ever held a microphone and a bottle of hair gel. The QueerCore genre is a journal for individual artists’ experience with oppression, microaggressions, and heartbreak. Some bands that best embody this sound are The Butchies, Pansy Division, Gay for Johnny Depp, Black Fag, Bondage Fairies, and Limp Wrist. But QueerCore has a fun and sassy side, too. Gaining more popularity due to its more lighthearted content is the pop-punk bubblegum trash made famous by bands such as Hunx and his Punx. These modern day rock stars still have the quintessential party-boy mystique of punk rockers. When Pitchfork magazine asked Seth Bo-

gart of Hunx and his Punx what his ideal performance would be, he replied, “Really good stagewear and a couple of cocktails. An enthusiastic crowd can help, but sometimes I go way crazier if people look bored and horrif ied.” Jumping off the springboard of angry revolutionary music, this more recognizable sound is the staple of the queer rock arena, hinting at Freddie Mercury and the glam of RuPaul. As the LGBT community has come out from hiding, passionate queers have created a queer spin-off of just about everything. As they have gotten their hands on music, unique sounds combined with community-wide testimonies bring these genres to life. Whether it be the swanky rhymes of queer rap or the grimy societal laments of queercore, our stories now have a soundtrack. You may not be hearing these musicians on the Top 40 charts anytime soon, but through growing LGBT audiences and appropriation by straight pop stars, these emerging genres of music are mak ing a statement for both the queer community and society at large. Rather than record companies manufacturing music for a wider, straighter demographic, queer rap and QueerCore music is made by queers, for queers.

While “bisexual succubus” may sound more like the tagline to a shaky-cam underground porn film masquerading as art, Bo’s identity has genuinely high stakes within the universe of TV show Lost Girl. Sure, the series is sometimes ridiculous; many moments languish in the endearingly ludicrous and come with an extra dose of camp. But in spite of a premise that sounds like it could function as an after-dark, straight male fantasy special, there’s a lot more to Bo than her identity suggests. In fact, the choice of a succubus as the character through whom we discover this secret, supernatural world is a critical one. If you haven’t been keeping up to date on your medieval folklore traditions, the succubus is a creature that seduces men and drains them of their life force, often fatally. Traditionally, the succubus serves to emphasize the virgin/whore dichotomy—as the ultimate threatening seductress, she is certainly a “damnable whore.” The reinvention of the succubus as a woman real, f lawed, and sympathetic, who happens to engage in sexual acts on a regular basis, destabilizes the foundation of this dichotomy. She is neither. The more she grows, the more she becomes able to control her life-draining abilities, and the more she upsets the narrative of the whore. Equally important, the show’s narrative never calls Bo’s bisexuality into question; in fact, very few of the characters so much as reference her bisexuality. There is no need for reminders. Bo’s sexuality is never the crux of the show, or the driving force of the plot, but it is never overlooked. Her sexuality never seems only the default of her species: her love interests of both genders are each very relevant to the plot throughout the series’ run. She falls in love. She is involved in relationships both monogamous and open. But it would be a disservice to dismiss her existence as a sexual being. After all, witnessing a female character who both needs and enjoys sex with a variety of different people in a variety of situations somehow still feels like a revelation. As creator Lovretta says, “Bo has a lot of sex… and she’s still a hero, still a good person worthy (and capable) of love,” and perhaps it is profoundly disheartening that this is still such a revolutionary portrait. But it matters. Nevertheless, Lost Girl hit a stumbling block in the first episode of season three. Set largely in pris-

Kayla Vernon Clark Staff Writer | kaylavc@gmail.com

Lost Girl © Showcase

Katy Perry, Nick i M inaj, Cher: these artists dominate our favorite WeHo clubs, and when we think “gay music icon,” they’re usually the f irst to pop into our heads. But the queer music scene now has a brand of music that speaks to our real stories and experiences. A straight pop star’s hit might have been the only k ind of music that got rewarded with the “gay” title in the past, usually because of a simple club beat and hypersexual lyrics, but t wo emerging genres called QueerCore and queer rap are giving a new playlist to our community. Queer rap is different than mainstream hiphop because it is def ined by our experiences rather than our requests to the DJ, a welcome change from the raunchy and trivial nature of most music that is somehow categorized as “queer”. The term “queer rap” may make you think of Azealia Banks or Nick i M inaj trying to cash in on their gay fandoms, but queer rap goes way beyond this acknowledgment of gay fans. In the case of queer rap, queer is the rule, never the exception. One def ining characteristic of queer rap is the prevalence of queer terminology in every rhyme, from discussion of fetishes to coming out to sexual preferences. Hearing the lyrics “I pimp slap you bitch... with my limp wrist, bro,” in a rap song def initely catches your attention because the lyrics are unapologetically queer. Furthermore, queer rap acknowledges the contrast bet ween hip-hop and queerness, and many rappers make a conscious effort to address this contrast by blending the t wo often polarized worlds together. Brook lyn rapper Zebra Katz explains in an inter view with Pitchfork magazine: "It's a f ine line that I'm playing here. I'm trying to see how cleverly I can walk a tightrope." This tightrope walk is the balancing act of creating lyrics that appeal both to listeners seek ing queer messages and to those thirsting for traditional hip-hop. However, some hip hop artists disagree, arguing that so-called traditional hip-hop is, in fact, inherently queer. In an inter view with Pitchfork magazine, rapper Mykk i Blanco comments on homophobia in hip-hop, saying, "You're not gonna be 'no-homo' and then call yourself pretty and say, 'Swag swag swag, swag swag, swag swag.' That is a gay attitude—a gay black attitude specif ically... You cannot tell me it isn't. Gay men invented swag." Mykk i Blanco is mak ing it clear that intersectionality matters, specif ically when it comes to matters of race and sexuality, and queer rap is the place where this intersectionality makes

Science Friction

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Music to My Queer

logan linnane Staff Writer | loganlinnane@gmail.com

on, it included a warden supposedly masquerading as female for the purpose of impregnating many of the prisoners. When Bo discovers the warden is “actually male,” there ensues an outbreak of violence against “him.” It is a scene meant to be read as triumph over a villainous character, while— perhaps most uncomfortably—he cries, “I’m one of you!” To be fair, this character was based off a genuine mythological shapeshifter that the producers have stated was not meant to be analogous to a transgender person. Still, though the character was established as a villain, it also echoes the absurd— and yet still perpetuated—notion that transgender women are simply “pretending” to be women for the sake of enacting secret criminal or violent tendencies. And the self-identification of the warden at the end as still female adds increasing weight to this discomfort. Since the controversy, the producers released an official apology for the accidental offense, adding that they “want to encourage a society where everyone can feel comfortable to express and be who they are without judgment.”

And, despite moments of blundering, perhaps that is exactly the hope. There is something very special about the way that science fiction and fantasy have the potential to reimagine sexuality in new ways. Sci-fi can craft new species that approach gender and sexuality in different ways. In doing so, it has the perhaps unique ability to challenge the problematic establishment of humanity’s own gender ideologies. Yet in the majority of cases, mainstream sci-fi television and movies have so often let the queer community down. They’ve often sidestepped confrontations with sexuality and turned away from moments of potential visibility in favor of maintaining heteronormativity and protecting a presumed heterosexual viewership. So, yes: Lost Girl is the story of an ass-kicking, crime-solving bisexual succubus struggling not to kill people. However, beyond the sometimes outlandish situations, Lost Girl posits a step toward the future. The sexuality Lost Girl expresses requires neither explanation nor justification. Within its universe, sexuality simply is.

Quarantined Queerness

Arthur Pham

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Your lifestyle is unnatural. You should not be eligible for US citizenship. Your opinion counts for less, because you are less than a person. Some may assume these remarks are obsolete. This assumption, however, may explain surprise among members of academic medicine who learned anti-LGBT sentiments still exist on medical school campuses. Separate surveys conducted during the 2005-2006 academic year by the AAMC's Group on Student Affairs (GSA) and Organization of Student Representatives (OSR) found that, while discrimination and mistreatment are uncommon, their existence is undeniable. On the OSR survey, up to 17 percent of self-reported LGBT student respondents reported hostile environments. Additionally, 34 percent of GSA and 53 percent of OSR survey respondents indicated that they were unaware that nondiscrimination statements existed at their schools and clinical training sites, despite every medical school having such a statement. Even if statements existed, they were not implemented effectively enough to impact students. "What we ended up finding, especially in our OSR survey feedback, was very sobering," Parrish said. "It really changed our focus. It brought us back to recognizing that a respectful learning environment and a safe education was not present across the board and, in some cases, it's downright hostile." This phenomenon, however, may not be exclusive to medical schools. A 2006 study by the Law School Admission Council found that 23.6 percent of LGBT first-year law students witnessed LGBT-based discrimination, and 23.5 percent of first-year LGBT law students experienced such discrimination firsthand. Ronni L. Sanlo, director of the UCLA LGBT Campus Resource Center and a former chair of the National Consortium of Directors of LGBT Resources in Higher Education, said anti-LGBT sentiments may be increasing in higher education. "I think there is more harassment on a college campus these days," Sanlo said. "There is a huge sense of isolation among [LGBT] students. The vast majority are very closeted...and feeling like they don't want people to know who they are. So they are attempting to ‘fit in’ in very negative ways." The effort to "fit in" can lead to risky behaviors including drug abuse, promiscuity, and sex work, Sanlo said. The AAMC and its member institutions are actively pursuing solutions. For starters, the AAMC is formulating a set of LGBT "good practices" for medi-

KENNY SALEH Staff Writer | saleh.kenny@gmail.com

cal schools, which is tentatively expected by November. The AAMC has already recommended changes in professional and curricular policies. According to Parrish, a good first step is reinforcing pre-existing policies and statements. "Medical schools should reaffirm that discrimination is not tolerated, and restate their commitment to respond to discrimination effectively and immediately," he said. LGBT student and faculty mentoring programs can provide much-needed support. At the University of California, Davis, School of Medicine, Jesse P. Joad, M.D., the school's associate dean for faculty development and diversity, recently created an informal social network for LGBT students and faculty. As a lesbian, Joad said she recognized the challenges to being a member of the LGBT population in any environment. Now, Joad e-mails an invitation to all students and faculty at the beginning of each academic year, and her tri-monthly LGBT potlucks are drawing crowds. "The biggest problem is not knowing who else is [queer]," she said. "So I tried to pull people together as much as possible, and I thought it would be good to have a social meeting. People know they have a place to go, and it's been extremely successful." Mindy Young-Spint, a regular potluck attendee who recently began her general surgery residency at U.C. Davis Medical Center said one challenge is knowing how and when to speak out. "In many places, there is difficulty in creating a dialogue," she said. "In talking to undergrads, a lot of people are worried about coming out on their essays or

applications. How much do you really want the school to know?" Discrimination may be relatively uncommon, and free speech is always a consideration, but ensuring safety and optimum objectivity should be a high priority for academic medicine moving forward, said James Littlejohn, OSR chair and a medical student at Texas A&M Health Science Center College of Medicine. The implications of LGBT discrimination transcend the classroom and may set precedents for physician bias when dealing with future patients."Discrimination in any sense, if exhibited by faculty or staff, percolates down to anyone they work with, including the students," said OSR’s Littlejohn. "So this is teaching us that it is okay to discriminate against people." Indeed, having predispositions about specific population segments interfere with physician objectivity and, by extension, ability to treat patients. "We hold our doctors to very high standards in this society, and we expect them to put their personal feelings aside." If personal feelings can impact treatment, measures to eliminate both direct and indirect discrimination, in forms ranging from negative faculty evaluations of queer students to intolerant curriculum elements, are literally a life or death issue. And prevention begins on medical school campuses. As Littlejohn puts it, "Even if it's not a problem now, it could be down the road… most schools say they don't have a problem with this, but if I had my druthers, I'd like to see every school create standards."

Alejandra Rodriguez

My heart began to beat faster as the minutes passed; I knew I had to do it. Taking a deep breath, I finally blurted out the words that had waited years to emerge: “Mom, I’m a lesbian.” Thinking back, I realize that I was never really sure about my sexuality. I considered myself straight because that’s what I was supposed to be according to society. Yet, I wasn’t attracted to boys in any way at all. I didn't think much about it, other than maybe I wasn’t mature enough and still had a childish view about boys. During high school, I began questioning my sexuality. While I was never attracted to boys, I always knew I had an attraction for girls. For fear of not being taken seriously, I would try to convince myself that I couldn’t be queer. I didn’t look like a stereotypical lesbian, and I had never had a girlfriend, which meant that I couldn’t possibly be one hundred percent sure I liked girls. I thought my attraction for girls was just a phase, one that would fade with experimentation. But that wasn’t the case. I once asked my mom what she thought about the LGBT community and how she would react if one of her children turned out to be gay. She said, “ I don’t mind gay people, as long as they don’t bother me. They can live their life together, but I don’t believe they should get married or adopt children. If any of my children ever turned out to be gay, it would take me a while to get used to it, but

Inside Out in the end they’ll always be my children and I’ll always love them no matter what.” Listening to her say that gave me hope that she could accept me as being queer. Even with that slight hope, I was aware of the possibility of her not understanding or accepting me. So I thought about how I would come out to her. All I could think of was telling her that I was a lesbian and leaving it at that, but I knew that couldn’t be the end of the conversation. I began to wonder whether she’d even believe me. There were times when I thought, “Maybe coming out right now isn’t such a great idea,” but I realized that there may never be a right time. I had to come out to my mom either way, so I might as well do it sooner rather than later. The moment my mom heard my words, her jaw dropped and it took her a moment to reply. She finally processed it, and said, “Why? I didn’t raise you that way.” She was telling me she didn’t raise me to be queer, as if being queer was a choice. I didn’t wake up one morning and tell myself, “I’m going to be gay from now on”; it just doesn’t work that way. As a single mother in the Latino community, my mom feels as though she has to raise her children the way the Latino culture and society as a whole expects of her, meaning that there is no sex before marriage, and furthermore, sex and sexuality should not be discussed at all. By adhering to these strict cultural pressures, she

Alejandra Rodriguez Staff Writer | alira0115@yahoo.com proves to her family and community that although she made mistakes throughout her life, she wasn’t going to raise children that make the same mistakes. My mother never talked to me about sex or sexuality in any sense — I never had “the talk” with her, so bringing up my sexuality in any way, and especially in a way that shows I’m different than what she was expecting, was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I want her to understand that even though I like girls, it doesn’t mean that I’m not the same person I was before I told her the truth. She continued, telling me that she wasn’t okay with me being a lesbian, and that she would need time to get used to the idea. Now that I am out to my mom it’s somewhat relieving, but I know she’ll probably want to mention it to my aunts and uncles. I don’t think I’m ready for them to know yet, because they are even more judgmental than my mom. I’m just not ready to deal with that. I guess all I can really do now is move on with my life and hope that one day my mom can accept me for who I am. Maybe then I’ll be ready for everyone else to know. Once I know my mom accepts me, I feel it’ll be much easier for me to come out to others, because I honestly wouldn’t care whether they were okay with me being queer. All that really matters to me is having my mom’s complete support.

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Arthur Pham

Changing the Game

GABRIELLE JUAREZ Staff Writer | gabbyjuarez@ucla.edu

Beefy, sweaty men piling on top of each other. Women in Spandex shorts jumping up and down across the court. Speedos being ripped from one another’s bodies all in the name of scoring. For how homoerotic sports are, the homophobia common in professional and collegiate sports is almost ironic. Hypermasculinity and the physical nature of sports provides a space where homophobia abounds, and UCLA unfortunately is not immune. Although UCLA Athletics has made valiant attempts to combat hate both on and off the field, queer athletes can face a discordant life at UCLA if they do not feel comfortable being out with their teammates due to immature and intolerant attitudes. “I get the feeling that D1 athletes are stuck in high school,” an anonymous UCLA’s women’s club lacrosse team member said. “The culture is so different, and because of this, I feel like they’re not as accepting of other gay athletes, because they’re still stuck in such small exclusive groups.”

Although in recent years UCLA has become increasingly accepting of those who don’t fit the heteronormative role, this change hasn’t been fully integrated into our athletic department. LGBT students may be provided with sanctuaries on campus such as the LGBT Center, but that doesn’t mean that UCLA is truly a safe space for LGBT athletes. Indeed, the fear of harassment or judgment keeps many queer student athletes closeted. Recently, UCLA has been trying to fix this. One of the many goals of the UCLA athletic department is promoting allyship. In a mandatory event conducted by the athletic department, UCLA invited Hudson Taylor, founder of sports resource Athlete Ally, to talk to our athletes about LGBT tolerance and homophobia. Although this is a noteworthy gesture, many athletes remarked that they merely attended the event because it was mandatory, and several even laughed and joked that the presenter speaking in support of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender

rights was “so gay.” Even our anonymous interviewer remarked about the laughter she heard when sitting through Hudson’s speech, saying, “a lot of athletes behind were just laughing and stuff the whole time, so it was not that accepting of an environment.” Despite this, more than 200 student athletes attended the event, and many began to speak on behalf of their teams. When asked about the atmosphere in the football locker room, Su’a-Filo, a junior offensive linesman, said that the culture was overwhelmingly heterosexual. “It’s definitely a boys’ locker room. I joke around a lot about it,” Su’a Filo said. “’There are definitely a lot of gay slurs and sexist comments that go around. I think a lot of them are thrown casually by people… I mean, I would say that I’m one of them too sometimes. But I think it would be better to be more careful and selective about what we say.” As junior swimmer Briana Meyer said in the Daily Bruin on April 18, 2012, “Especially being in a sport like swimming where everyone sees how your body looks and… swimmers tend to be more muscular, with broad shoulders, there is definitely talk about that and negativity toward the way people look, ‘Oh, they look dyke-y and stuff like that,’” Meyers said. Phrases such as ‘dyke,’ ‘that’s so gay’ or ‘he’s such a fag’ convey the homophobic and intolerant attitude that the athletic department is trying to correct. Dr. Christina Rivera, Associate Athletic Director for Academic & Student Services and an out lesbian within the athletic department, adds her stance against homophobic language. “One simple example of creating an inclusive environment is not permitting anti-LGBT language or slurs to be used in the training room or in the locker room, making sure our athletes feel comfortable enough to approach someone and say, ‘I don’t appreciate you using that language.’” Christina continuously emphasized the importance of allyship and what it means to be supportive of the LGBT community. “It means that I will respect and promote an environment that does not make judgments on sexual orientation. We will not use anti-gay language. Instead, we plan on using more inclusive language: for example, asking ‘Do you have a partner?’ rather than ‘Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?’” In conjunction with Christina’s support, other coaches are beginning to speak out. Kirk Walker, an assistant softball coach, is gay and an avid supporter of LGBT rights. He is involved in numerous organizations such as The Stand Up Foundation, You Can Play, It Gets Better, and Athlete Ally. When asked about ongoing projects, he mentioned working on several: “I’m working to initiate the You Can Coach portion of the You Can Play organization. By reaching out to ally coaches and out coaches in collegiate and professional sports, we can start taking a stand against homophobia.” Walker also discussed the importance of Ally Week and his hopes that our athletes can go on BruinWalk in their UCLA athletics gear and hand out Ally Week flyers. He aims to achieve an equal playing ground and open discussion, “it’s important for

my players to know that the team is a safe space and that the greatest change comes from them, with them being allies.” With all this change within our community, it’s no surprise that at this year’s 2013 NCAA convention, LGBT rights was a highly requested focus. With new legislations such as the Transgender Policy being approved, trans males (female-to-male) and trans females (male-to-female) are now finally able to participate in NCAA sports. These policies, as well as other implementations of queer-friendly legislations, are beginning to change how we view sports. For me, the experience of a queer UCLA athlete is personal. During my freshman year on the NCAA women’s water polo team, my roommate and teammate walked in on me and my girlfriend cuddling in bed, and immediately shouted “What?! What is this?” before storming out of the room. I was shocked and scared, and although that experience was traumatic, the discomfort I felt afterwards due to my roommate telling the rest of our teammates about my girlfriend was even more hurtful. Furthermore, when one of my teammates talked about my exposed secret—she was the only girl that discussed the incident with me directly—she recommended that rather than open up a discussion about my sexuality, I should say I was just drunk and made a silly decision. I didn’t want to do that; I wanted to be honest with my teammates. However, I felt increasingly uncomfortable even though there wasn’t any overt homophobia; it was more that there was an awkward feeling in the pool or in the locker room. Water polo is a physically aggressive sport, and my undiscussed sexuality only added to the discomfort. This is not to say that my experience as a UCLA athlete was not wonderful in many ways. We were treated like royalty, enjoying fancy dinners, luxurious hotels, and immeasurable academic perks for representing UCLA across the nation in games and tournaments. Furthermore, the feeling of playing your hardest is indescribable. However, I find it telling that although I tried to find more out athletes to interview for this article, it was virtually impossible. This says much more about athletics as a whole than my individual story or UCLA’s offical stance on queer athletes. Rather, the deeper message is that for some reason, queerness and athletics are two experiences that seem difficult for many people to reconcile. And yet, UCLA Athletics is trying. During my freshman year on the water polo team, queer athletes had virtually no support. When walking on the pool deck after being outed, there were no queer organizations I could turn to. We didn’t have mandatory meetings with speakers such as Hudson Taylor. We also didn’t have any plans to advance queer awareness. Although we still face homophobia in sports here at UCLA, it’s slowly getting better, from UCLA participating in Ally Week for the first time to the athletic department enforcing pre-year coaches’ meetings about LGBT rights, UCLA is doing its part. As Walker powerfully proclaims, “Sport is where the greatest culture changes occur.”

LIFE ABOVE THE BELT

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Arthur Pham

FEAT U R E /

Sex, for many, is the crème de la crème of physical experiences. However, asexual people—people who lack sexual desire—would gladly take cake over sex any day. (Indeed, those who identify as asexual have adopted cake as their unofficial symbol.) Although the asexual population is about as large as the homosexual population, when one envisions the queer community, whether it’s activist efforts or one’s own social network, asexually-identified individuals are starkly fewer in number than gays or lesbians, if not entirely absent. “I do feel like the asexual community is marginalized, even when compared to other queer groups,” said Sarah Pechacek-Robinson, a 21-year old member of the Asexuality and Visibility Education Network (AVEN) forums. “First, because we don't typically want anything. We aren't marching for any rights, and we aren't fighting for changes in laws and

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legislations, although many asexuals consider themselves a part of the LBGTQ community, and support marriage freedom… Most people aren't even aware that anything about us is different… We look exactly the same as everyone else, and there's really no way to distinguish us from sexuals without asking.” This may be why asexuality as a subject of study and center for community formation has only recently emerged, despite its identification over 60 years ago as category “X” in Kinsey’s sexological studies. ‘Asexual’ as a term was only established as a unifying term for the orientation in the 1990s, thanks largely to the emergence of online discussion forums. And while homosexuality shed its official status as psychiatric illness status in 1973, the American Psychological Association still pathologizes “recurrently deficient (or absent) sexual fantasies and desire for sexual activity” that cause “interpersonal difficulty” as a disorder.

Asexuality’s emergent status as a sexual orientation within a society that assumes sexual desire is an inescapable part of human experience (a bias sometimes termed “sexualism”), and that has enough trouble acknowledging non-heterosexual forms of sexual desire, makes ‘coming out’ as asexual a formidable process. “I don’t often tell people I’m asexual. I told a few friends from college, and a few close friends and family members from home, because I wanted support in figuring out this part of me,” said Emilia*, a second-year undergraduate at UCLA. Moreover, for Rose*, a fifth-year graduate student at UCLA, the process of coming out is even more complicated because she is both asexual and experiences romantic attraction to women. Coming out is a “fraught term, because coming out as asexual versus coming out as queer—Are those one and the same,

can we make those one and the same?” Having first come out as lesbian at age 25, then as asexual a few years later, Rose has been told by some that being asexual excludes her from being lesbian, the act of coming out as asexual apparently erasing all other facets of her queer identity. Like other queer individuals, asexual people face ignorant and often bigoted comments just for leading their lives. For Rose, one of the biggest challenges to living asexually in a sexual society is being told “You just haven’t found the right person yet,” or “Asexuality’s not even a thing,” or “Why do we need yet another label? Can’t we just let people be whatever they are without classifying it as something?” In Rose’s experience, this is particularly the case in coming out to romantic partners, “because they say, ‘Well, that’s just because you haven’t had sex with me.’” Even in the queer community, which supposedly embraces asexuality as one of its facets, identifying as asexual can be difficult, with other queer individuals imposing their own experiences onto the asexual experience. For example, Rose said she faces this problem when discussing her openness to having sex with a sexual-identifying romantic partner, even though she wouldn’t take physical pleasure in it. “Some members of the queer community have said, ‘You know, that’s the same pressure I felt to be straight.’ And I’m thinking, ‘It is and it isn’t.’ If I love someone enough, and they were a sexual person, and they wanted to have sex, I would most definitely consider having sex with them. At least in my mind, it’s no different from doing anything else that the person you love wants to do… I think there are ways to meet in the middle.” Greater education about asexual issues is important particularly for individuals with queer identities other than asexuality. “I feel like I am part of a marginalized community as a queer, trans* ace [slang for asexual],” said Lee, a first year bioengineering student at University of Washington, who is starting a club for asexuals on their campus. “I feel a need to organize to create awareness and acceptance

living as asexy

LEE JASPERSE Staff Writer | ljasperse@ucla.edu

KNOW YOUR ASEXY TERMS! aromantic asexual

experiences little or no romantic attraction to others

does not experience sexual attraction

does not experience sexual attraction unless they form a strong emotional connection with someone

demisexual

does not experience romantic attraction unless they develop an emotional connection demiromantic greysexual

feels sexual attraction infrequently or very mildly

describes relationships which are not romantic but nonetheless involve a an intense emotional connection beyond what most people now consider normal for a friendship

queerplatonic

of asexuality. More people can understand how they identify and not feel broken for not wanting sex. More people will be able to enter ace-ace relationships and live happier and healthier lives. The queer community needs to be educated at the wide variety of sexual orientations to create more acceptance and openness.” For this reason, Rose maintains that it is important for her to come out despite its complicated nature, because in doing so, she says she participates in the project of “letting people know, ‘Hey, there’s more than one way to be an adult in our society. It doesn’t necessarily have to involve marriage and children and traditional relationships.’” In this regard, although the asexual and queer sexual communities face distinct experiences and challenges, they share a common potential to present non-normative ways of negotiating intimacy and desire, conceptualizing what life experiences are valuable, and what it means to be viably, fully human. As David Jay, asexual activist and founder of AVEN has said, furthering an asexual discourse that places value on forms of platonic attraction can produce “a whole bunch of languages that hopefully can be useful to everybody, not just asexuals.” Still, organizing around such an incred-

ibly diverse, recently recognized, and largely ignored orientation poses significant challenges. “I don’t know if I feel a need to organize around [asexuality],” said Emilia. “I was involved in some communities online which were great at first, but they eventually got taken over by infighting and it grew exhausting.” Ultimately, the prevailing social invisibility of asexuals and difficulty in organizing to overcome this invisibility on campus is likely responsible for how underserved the asexual community is at UCLA. Although there are over 20 LGBT student organizations on campus, none include asexuality as a strong focus of their agendas. Moreover, although UCLA’s Counseling and Psychological Services laudably offers group therapy for gay/bi men, lesbian/bi women, and those who are gender nonconforming, they lack group support for asexual individuals. While finding a community on campus and in Los Angeles can therefore be difficult, it’s not impossible. Social groups like “Ace LA” and “A in LA” host Los Angeles meetups and social events specifically for asexual-identified individuals, those curious about asexuality, and allies. And in Emilia’s experience, “I sort of did

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However, some romantic asexuals like Rose are open to dating and sleeping with partners who are sexual. “Dating another asexual would be easier, but I'm sex-positive. I would have sex with a person I loved to please them,” said Cara, another AVEN forum user. “I am legally married (but separated) and I do have 2 children already. When my husband and I separated, it didn't have anything to do with sex. He didn't know it didn't feel good. It was just easier to fake and pretend to like it.” Cara says that now that she has discovered the label of asexuality, she will be upfront from the very beginning with anyone else she dates. While navigating long-term relationships and marriage is difficult, the prospect of childbearing raises additional challenges. PachecekRobinson is unsure if she wants to get married, but she is certain about childbirth: “I definitely never want to have my own children. The idea

has always disgusted and repulsed me. I might do foster care or adopt kids.” For Lee, the challenges posed by childbirth stem less from their asexuality than from their transmasculine identity. “I plan to have children. Either I will have a female partner give birth, use a surrogate (with my eggs), or adopt. My issues with pregnancy are due to my gender identity… I would have no issues with having sex for the purpose of getting pregnant. I think pregnancy would cause way too much gender dysphoria.” Such novel experiences underscore the importance for a broader awareness regarding the asexual identity, and the development of a selfforged asexual community. “I’d like for more people to be aware that… not every experience is universal, and there’s no ‘wrong way’ to be human,” said Emilia. *Pseudonyms used as requested.

Arthur Pham

[find an asexual community on campus], but not on purpose. A few months after meeting my friends, I found out that some were asexual. These friendships are an important part of my student experience, definitely, and it’s nice to have people who understand that facet of how I see the world.” Others, like Lee, the University of Washington student who is forming an asexual club on their campus, feel the need for a more public, student-centered gathering space. This is in part because many have found being in exclusively asexual relationships easier than negotiating with partners who are sexual, but have difficulty finding dateable asexuals. “I have gone to 3 meetups in the Seattle area so far and most people are a lot older than myself. I would like to enter an ace-ace relationship but I know few people of an appropriate age in my area and none that I am interested in.”

Beyond Sister Wives

(cont.)

p hoto

life above the belt

You wake up in a strange bed with a pounding headache. Glancing to your left, there is a sleeping person who looks somewhat familiar. You creep out of the bed, grab your clothes and begin your walk of shame. However, this story ends when you arrive at your primary partner’s doorstep and find her smiling and asking about your steamy hookup. Are you surprised? As one poly-identified interview participant puts it, “Polyamory is the ability to love more than one person at a time, and to communicate one’s needs in an honest and mature manner.” Although the term ‘poly’ is claimed by some individuals who are in open relationships, polyamory in more general terms refers to “the concept of not being limited

to sharing strong feelings of attachment with only one partner.” One main difference between polyamory and open relationships is that poly is a sexual identity, rather than a relationship status. “I consider all my relationships as an adult to be poly, even if I was only seeing one person, since I still remain open to other relationships and have to keep an ongoing conversation about the dating world with my primary partner.” Although poly always involves some degree of openness, each poly individual structures their dating life and relationships in a way that works best for them, leading poly relationships to be quite diverse. “There's so many forms of poly. I usually keep

all my partner's separate and date people one-onone. But I've heard of triads (where three people date each other and are one-anothers' primaries), as well as more complicated forms. And I get a lot of propositions from couples trying to date me. I personally don't date couples, though I have dated both partners before separately. I always seem to like one more than the other. What it comes down to is open communication, especially regular DTR's (define the relationship).” The interviewee went on to explain that DTRs allow individuals in poly relationships to maintain a respectful and honest conversation about their relationship and avoid feelings changing without both partners being aware of a shift. This allows both partners to stay up to speed

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ees participated in to different extents at different times, for the most part, being poly reflects deeper characteristics that are unchanging, so even if one’s current relationship status is monogamous, a person’s identity does not change. “I've dated one person for an extensive period of time before, but mostly because I didn't have time for anyone else. I still considered the relationship to be poly though, and I see all my future relationships being poly.” The permanence of one’s poly identity draws some interesting parallels to the queer community. Poly people need to come out to potential partners as well as their families, and the latter involves challenges familiar to many in the queer community. “My mom knows that I have been in poly relationships before. She still sees it as a phase, calling them "open relationships" that are "healthy for someone still in college".” Despite these challenges, she boldly adds, “we'll see what happens when I'm out of school and still poly.” Another parallel to the queer community is in the sometimes tumultuous process of coming to terms with one’s identity. “I remember being 16, and having to choose between two people. It felt stupid to have to completely cease getting to know one of them on a romantic level so early into meeting both of them.” An added challenge to coming out as poly is that actively creating a polyamorous relationship status takes certain skills that this interviewee needed to develop. “At the time, I had no alternate model for a relationship [and] I certainly didn't have the conversational skills to express my desires.” Polyamorous relationships are not, however, a cake walk. One major challenge comes when people identify as poly without having the skills required to make a poly relationship work. “I have dated people who claimed to be poly, but were terrible at communication and were very impulsive. These relationships fall apart fast if communication fails. They would become involved with new people without ever mentioning them and would try to bring them into the household without any prior introduction.” Polyamory comes with challenges later in life as well. Just as same-sex couples face biological challenges when raising a family, polyamory involves its own unique challenges. Each poly individual navigates the topic of family differently. One interviewee commented that, “I do plan to have children. All serious partners in my life would be given parental privileges. As for kinship terms, I'm playing it by ear. Will the biological dad be granted the privilege of being called "daddy"? Will my boyfriends/girl-

friends be "auntie" and "uncle" or something else?” There are also legal challenges to polyamorous parenting. As one interviewee pointed out, “I think our marriage and parenthood laws kind of lack recognition for poly people. Parenthood/guardianship is very important to address. Biological parenthood, gestational parenthood, caretaking parenthood, and parenthood by legal union (what might be called step-parenthood) all need some kind of recognition when it comes to basic things like hospital visitation, who can pick the child up from the nurse's office, who gets custody, etc. Then there's the issues of paperwork for health insurance, taxes, the census, enrolling a child in school, etc.” One potential cause of the lack of legal and social recognition of polyamory are misconceptions about the polyamorous identity. As one interviewee commented, “It's not a sexual free-for-all, and there's still a concept of cheating. I've been cheated on in poly relationships. Some people also think being poly means you get a lot more sex. You really don't.” Another interviewee added, “I'm not even sure what most people think polyamory is. All I've heard are misconceptions, mostly confusing polyamory with polygamy. I will say that it's true that our threesomes are better than those of monogamous people.” One interviewee also added that he takes offense to polyamory being mistaken for “the Sister Wives thing.” Polyamory differs from polygamy in countless ways, from the difference in legal recognition of the union to the difference between one partner being married to multiple spouses (but those spouses each being married only once) and two partners having the ability to define polyamory in their own way. Although the polyamorous community experiences freedom to date more than one person, the stigma, legal challenges, and communication requirements are no small obstacle. Is polyamory worth the challenges? The overwhelming consensus seems quite affirmative. “It's had an overwhelmingly positive effect. My partners and I have been able to share and develop relationships with one another as they naturally develop. Without being poly, we wouldn't have had the opportunity to do so because in a monogamous relationship, it's "first in time, first in right," which precludes any other romantic relationships that may develop once the two partners are committed. But we can remain committed to our pre-established romantic relationships while exploring and cultivating new ones. It's phenomenal.”

SAM WANG Staff Writer | thesamwang@gmail.com Sorté. Juste avant que mes poumons explosent—une seconde de la mort. The heroine of French-Canadian filmmaker Xavier Dolan’s drama Laurence Anyways compares the experience of being a transgender individual to a game of holding your breath underwater— not knowing how long you’ll last until the moment when you can’t take it anymore, and you surface, one second from death. Dolan’s script successfully portrays the struggle of transgender individuals against an often oppressive and transphobic society. In this moment, Laurence’s inner battle between a true identity and an identity that is imposed by society reaches a breaking point Laurence can no longer live behind the front of masculinity. At the beginning of the story, Laurence, a literature teacher, is in a passionate relationship with Frédérique, a woman. However, everything is turned upside down when Laurence decides that life as a man is not “authentique.” When Laurence reveals this to Fred, Fred asks whether Laurence hates everything about herself that Fred loves, to which she responds, “Is that all you love?” hinting that loving someone means going beyond loving the parts are predictable and easy to love. Dolan’s script focuses on a type of love that can transcend gender. Another poignant example of this is when Laurence comes out to her mother. This revelation puts additional strain on their already distant relationship. However, when Laurence asks her mother whether she still loves her child, she responds, “Are you becoming a woman or an idiot?” In both cases, Dolan is able to capture the realistic ambivalence of such a reaction adds to the integrity of the film. This response may be unexpected to the audience, but this honest portrayal of a mother-and-child relationship conveys how love once again transcends gender. The mother’s response skillfully sidesteps melodrama and executes bittersweet truth. Dolan takes us along for the ups and downs in this journey of integrating Laurence’s identity into her old world. As she steps into her classroom dressed as a woman for the first time, Dolan allows fortyfive seconds of stifling silence to pass before letting the audience and Laurence breathe freely again. As a mere observer, I felt immensely uncomfortable. Such

Laurence Anyways

with one another’s feelings for them and for others with whom their partner might be involved. It can also help each partner label and understand each relationship their partner has. For example, one interviewee described his current relationship status, providing one of many interpretations of the poly label. “One of my relationships is D/S, where I am the dominant partner and my girlfriend is the submissive; one is (more) conventional between the two of us, but my girlfriend is a submissive partner in a poly family; and one isn't really a girlfriend/boyfriend arrangement at all.” In this interpretation, the different relationships one person has can vary significantly, however other poly individuals structure their relationships differently. The only constancy within the poly community seems to be willingness to communicate, as openness and honesty are critical components in a functional poly relationship. “[Being poly] certainly limits who I can date, since a lot of people cannot communicate well enough to keep such a relationship stable.” Being poly also requires attention to detail. “Being a meticulous planner helps, as does being able to keep all the details straight in your head.” After all, it’s hard enough remembering a single partner’s birthday or Starbucks order. However, for those who fit the requirements, poly can open up new possibilities. “I'm a very loving and trusting person, so I open myself up to lots of people. Monogamy seems to limit that. Not only does polyamory allow me to love multiple people openly, but it lets me develop friendships that aren't challenged by an existing romantic relationship.” This allows poly people a great deal of freedom and satisfaction. In addition to facilitating multiple intimate and connected relationships, one interviewee added, poly eliminates some of the dependency that can make breakups traumatic. “One of many advantages to being poly is that breakups seem to go a lot smoother. By defining a relationship regularly, it's easy to see interest slowly wane so that rather than a sudden severing of ties, there can be a gentle ease into a non-romantic friendship. It seems like most poly people I know don't have breakups very often; they just lose a partner and gain a friend. You know those cliches: "We can still be friends", "I love you. I'm just not in love with you", and "I love you as a friend". Well, those actually apply to a good poly breakup.” Although poly is an identity some interview-

Lost in Trans*lation

p hoto

STEPHANIE GILBERT Staff Writer | sranzgilbert@gmail.com

o l ya m o r y

prolonged periods of complete silence are virtually unheard of in films, because directors like to make stories easily digestible to their audience out of fear of making the audience uncomfortable, and therefore losing their approval. In real life, such moments of painful awkwardness exist. If a director means to depict reality, then the director must sometimes sacrifice the audience’s comfort. Dolan’s understanding of this fact makes the film a more genuine experience than a typical matinee movie. By allowing these negative moments to transpire, Dolan effectively heightens Laurence’s moments of triumph. For example, when asked by a coworker whether her decision to dress as a woman was a revolt, she replies, “No sire, c’est une revolution”—it’s a revolution. Again, Dolan steers our attention toward a simple, yet profound truth. Laurence’s choice to redefine her identity as female not only forces those around her to reconsider her personal gender, but the other characters, along with the audience, must reconsider the entire social construct of gender as well. This is a hallmark of the queer identity because every time we come out to someone else, we are forcing those around us to remember that we are different than the norm, and therefore, it is alright if those around us are outside the norm as well. Laurence’s trials bring into question the queer community’s romantic notion that it all gets better. In reality, the consequences of coming out are often ugly

and difficult. The school board’s grounds for Laurence’s dismissal is that during the time in which the movie takes place, transgender individuals are considered mentally ill. Although one of the proposed amendments for the planned DSM-V is to rename “Gender Identity Disorder” as “Gender Dysphoria,” thus giving more validation to one’s personal identification, Laurence’s story is a realistic and timely assessment of what it means to be queer in the classroom. In August of last year, Mark Krolikowski, a teacher, was fired from the school Mark taught at for thirtytwo years just eight months after Mark came out as trans. Although St. Francis Preparatory School denies allegations of discrimination, the implications are obvious. The circumstances of Krolikowski’s termination were eerily similar to that of Laurence Alia. The events of Dolan’s film are not fiction, but a direct representation of reality. Besides heartbreak and indignation, Laurence Alia’s story brings hope. In one of the last scenes of the movie, Laurence answers an interviewer’s question of whether she feels confident in her gender identity. She responds, “Confident? No. Determined,” adding that living out the last half of a woman’s life means nothing without having lived the first, a statement that looks to future generations. Dolan does not offer the audience any easy answers. We don’t know how Laurence’s story ends; this may be the most realistic part of Dolan’s story.

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Dear Editor, Edward Violinhands ZACHARY ROBINSON Staff Writer | zach.m.robinson@gmail.com

What would you get if Lady Gaga, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and Edward Scissorhands made a baby? The answer to that slightly unnerving question is a 26-year-old cross-dressing Korean-American violin virtuoso. No, I’m not joking. This love-child exists and is named Amadéus Leopold. Born in Korea under the name Hanbin Yoon, Amadéus Leopold first picked up the violin at age five and only thirteen years later made an international debut at the 42nd Grammy Awards. In January, I had the opportunity to see Amadéus Leopold perform at Royce Hall on the UCLA campus. Leopold’s performance, titled “’Till Dawn Sunday,” toyed with the quite literal killing off of one’s former self (fake blood and all) in order to give way to a new name and a new persona: Amadéus Leopold. But what makes Amadéus Leopold so captivating, besides the artist’s wickedly talented mastery of the violin? A lack of pronouns. While most all publications refer to Leopold as “he,” the rising star has publicly expressed that he (or she, or neither) does not identify with conventional gender binaries. In an interview with Interview Magazine, Leopold explained, “My parents — everybody — would tell me that I’m a boy, I have to act this way, you can’t wear these things, you can’t put on makeup. And so for me, fashion and the visual expression of myself became a way to claim self-love. Every time I put on lipstick, every time I drape myself, I become my own self rather than what everybody else would rather have me be.” Amadéus Leopold’s gender-nonconforming attitude was apparent throughout the performance. Adorned one moment in a long, flowing gown, the next in a tight tuxedo, and the next in leopard print tights and heels, Leopold (age 26) challenges preconceived notions of classical music as well as the gender binary. The virtuoso’s public portrayal of gender ambiguity isn’t just a front for Leopold’s performance style, it’s the result of a very personal journey towards self-love. In the first grade Leopold recalls being called a “perverted faggot.” In Interview magazine, Leopold says “I was seven years old, and I didn’t even know what that meant. That was a strange experience to know that from the very beginning people really had a problem with me, even though I didn’t do anything to them.” Leopold spent a few moments on stage during the performance at UCLA reminiscing about watching the movie Edward Scissorhands as a child and relating to Edward because of the character’s inability to fit in with society. Leopold ended the monologue triumphantly exclaiming, “I am Sir Edward

16 |

Violinhands!” The audience loved it. Within the span of a three hour performance I had quickly found my new idol and this idol did not fit into any specific gender category. The reason I clung to Amadéus Leopold was because of the story that was told through the entirety of the performance. The first act revolved around the murder of Leopold’s former self (Hahn-Bin). From these ashes, Leopold emerges as a more refined and confident individual. I appreciate this dramatic gesture because I believe it represents a relevant metaphor for many members of the queer community. While it’s important to learn from one’s past, it’s also important to expunge non-authentic expressions of self, even if society says otherwise. For Leopold, this authentic self-expression manifests itself through fashion. Amadéus Leopold explains, “But the fact is that I didn’t become this person overnight. Nobody does this overnight, and nobody does this without really struggling to find themselves. It’s interesting how many people don’t grasp the concept that fashion can be an internal experience.” Amadéus Leopold’s blending of fashion, performance, and classical music is an impressive feat in itself. But what makes the concoction even more deadly is the obvious authenticity behind it. It didn’t matter what Leopold was wearing (although the “Don’t Mess with Texas” crop-top and leopard print leggings were my personal favorite), what Leopold was playing, or even if Leopold looked more like a man or a woman during any given piece. What mattered was the obvious passion oozing from every note of Leopold’s instrument and self. When the curtains at Royce Hall finally fell after three incredible encores, I took stock of the audience around me. These were people across and outside of the queer spectrum, who for three hours watched and listened intently to an individual who only decades earlier would probably have been scoffed at by the classical music community and society at large. Amadéus Leopold is weird, there’s no denying it. But in a world dominated by famous individuals who supposedly represent “perfect manhood” or “perfect womanhood” it was refreshing to find a role model in an individual who represents neither. I wish I could have looked up to Amadéus Leopold as a child, but it’s never too late to pledge allegiance to Sir Edward Violinhands.

I am writing to you today in response to some of the articles that were submitted for OutWrite’s “Share Your Opinion Contest.” Although I appreciate the open forum and your choice not to silence voices, I am upset by some of the content in these articles. Let me start off by saying that I am not a gay male-identified person, so my claims do not reflect this perspective. However, I find the way in which some of these articles discuss a straight person’s role within the gay community to be very problematic. For example, one author only had direct experience with the gay community in a party context, thus perpetuating the stereotype that straight allies only care about “the gays” when it concerns alcohol and partying. The too-common portrayal of straight allies as people who treat gay men only as party accessories and clubbing companions, rather than as people who advocate for gay rights and promote social justice, is destructive to both gay men and allies, and it seems that some of these contest writers unknowingly promoted this false allyship. I hope this letter can help address the ways in which allyship can be more productive for social change. I do not appreciate the way in which one author refers to herself as “queen of the gays.” While I am not certain if her gay male friends are calling her that ironically, that title nonetheless implies that gay men are subordinate to her. Gay men should not be treated as subjects to accompany straight women in drunken adventures down Santa Monica Boulevard. Even if the title is intended to be playful, as I’m sure was the author’s intention, it is not an appropriate justification to allyship. Statements such as “I have naturally gravitated towards gay people” suggest that gay men have some inherent qualities that other groups of people lack, further essentializing queer people. “Gay” is not a quality I tend to look for when choosing my friendships, and exoticizing their sexual orientation for friendship purposes does not constitute good allyship. Having gay friends certainly puts a face to some LGBT-related issues and concerns, but simply being friends with or knowing a lot of gay people is not

MEGHAN MALONEY Contributing Writer | maloney.meg@gmail.com productive allyship. Many people justify their allyship by stating that they can be themselves around their gay friends, because “we can go dance, make jokes, and discuss Lady Gaga’s fashion.” This statement reduces gay men to mindless yet fashionable dancing machines. Contrary to what the media portrays, there is much more to a gay man’s life than partying. Furthermore, a better-informed ally might realize that queer people use the bar and club scene as a way of building community when they have been rejected by their families or suffered other hardships that exist within the queer community, rather than just a place to have a fun night out. These authors’ limited discussion of the queer community made me further question their allyship. Nowhere in these articles does anyone mention the transgender or lesbian communities. This supports the idea that straight allies are exclusive in their allyship, and that all allies care about within our LGBTQQIAAOP community are gay men in the West Hollywood partying circuit. I challenge all allies (queer and straight) to consider their favoritism towards certain queer folk because there are other letters within the queer community that also need validation. It’s great that many straight allies advocate for queer spaces and culture, but is it enough? Can allies challenge themselves to better utilize their privileged status for the LGBT community? Straight allies have helped the queer community make great strides toward equality; as heterosexual people are in the majority, they have significantly contributed to marriage equality in nine states, the FAIR Education Act in California, and the end of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. However, articles like these also make me understand better why there is so much mistrust of allies in queer spaces. I think these articles bring up the important issue of how to further define what good allyship is, and I am hoping to see this conversation continue in future issues in OutWrite and in campuswide discussions. Sincerely, Meghan Maloney 4th year, American Literature and Culture/History Fem writer

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Choose Your own Adventure You jump in the shower, throw on a bro tank and basketball shorts, and walk to campus—hiding behind trees, running into buildings, and having several incredibly important fake phone calls to avoid having to say “hi” to people you can’t stand. After you finally settle into your seat in CS50, your hot crush who usually sits in front of you does the unthinkable and sits down right beside you and smiles directly at you. You:

C You turn to face your crush and ask if he/she understood Wednesday’s lecture. You complain about the class to each other, then the conversation turns to more exciting topics—like what you ate for breakfast (you lie since you didn’t eat anything) and the weather (it’s so hot for March). Your flirting pays off and the hottie walks with you back to the dorms. As you get nearer to the Hill, you aren’t sure how to continue the hangout.

GET S O ME WO RK DO NE / E

S M ILE BA C K BU T D O N ' T S AY A N Y TH IN G / D

GO WO RK O U T AT WO O DEN / F

You smile at the hottie and he/she smiles back. Lecture ensues and when it ends, your crush gets up and walks out of the lecture hall—taking all of your hopes and dreams out the door. You sit back in your seat and shame yourself for being so shy. You leave South Campus and walk down Bruin Walk, wondering what to do next.

G ET SOME WORK DO N E / E G O W ORK OUT AT W O O DE N / F

START! You are a ver y, ver y queer UCLA

freshman waking up in your dorm

room in Sproul Hall on a sunny

Friday morning in the middle of

winter. (Welcome to L.A.). Your

first year of college has been a

rush—your floormates have be-

come your best friends (and most

convenient fuck buddies), your

South Campus classes have been

killing you (but the hottie who al-

ways sits in front of you in Chem

14B makes up for the boring

lectures), and you came out to

your entire extended family over

Thanksgiving dinner (despite the

fact

car ving knives on the table).

that

there

were

several

You don’t have too much planned

for the day, but you know you

probably should get some study-

ing done. You have an 11 a.m.

class, but it’s already 10:00 and

you’re hungover from an exciting

Thursday night. What do you

do?

G O T O C L A SS / A

B / G E T M O R E SL E E P

H G You ask the hottie to come to your room. He/she agrees and before you know it, you’re ripping each other’s clothes off. Your crush is hotter than you could’ve ever imagined—you’ve never seen so much booty in your life. As you make passionate love, you moan and groan and smile wider than you’ve ever smiled before. You see him/ her in class again the next week but realize that it was just a one-time thing. You’re satisfied with that, until you get tested the next month and realize that the hottie gave you gonorrhea.

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You pull your sheets over your head and catch some more Zs. You dream of rainbows, butterflies, and more rainbows— God, you’re so queer. You finally wake up and ease out of bed at 1:30. You get the Asian combo at Rendez and bring it to your room. After one bite of orange chicken, you feel nauseous and run to the girl’s bathroom to throw up. Within minutes, your hangover is gone and you feel ready to begin your day.

S TA RT A FLIRTY C ON VO WITH Y O U R C R U S H / C

I NVI T E YOUR C RUSH TO Y OUR ROOM / G AS K Y OUR CRUSH TO GO TO BCAF É WI T H YOU / H

AUSTIN ROSE Staff Writer | austin.theodore.rose@ucla.edu

You sit down at your desk and pull up Mastering Physics on your laptop. You stare at the screen, trying to remember what the hell E = MC 2 means. You can’t figure it out, so you go on Facebook and post a status complaining about your homework. Apparently the gods don’t like your negativity because suddenly there’s a 9.0 magnitude earthquake and your bong crashes from your shelf directly onto your skull—killing you instantly. Your friends pregame your funeral in honor of your fun-loving spirit.

F You scan your BruinCard and walk into Wooden. You take one glance at all the hot bodies around you and feel faint. Suddenly, dozens of bodybuilders walk toward you and begin massaging your back, your legs, your feet, your special area. You moan and scream with pleasure. You wake up at Ronald Reagan and realize that you had passed out—the orgy was only a dream. You glance over and see a piece of paper on the side of your bed—your nurse has left his/her number for you. After you get out of the hospital, you call the nurse. Two months later, you gather in Sunset Rec with all of your friends and family (and a whole lot of nurses) and tie the knot with the love of your life.

You invite your crush to get BCafé with you. You grab your chicken wraps and sit down at the romantic metal tables outside. Things seem to be going well—you have a lovely conversation about politics (not a Republican, thank god!), religion (speaking of god), and dorm life (your crush seems to be “friends” with a lot of floormates also). When you both stand up to leave, you ask your crush if you can take him or her out to dinner over the weekend. Your crush looks surprised and tells you that he/she is dating your RA. You walk back to your room and feel like crying—until you get a text from your RA inviting you to his/her room. Three’s company.

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quiz

/ Your Sex Spirit Animal

Gabe Hongsdusit Staff Writer | gabehong@gmail.com

Which animal’s sexual behavior reflects your own and empowers you?

My ideal sexual partner is someone who a. Will make me cum. Isn’t that the point? b. I will have a future with. I’m in it for the long haul. c. Embraces sexuality with open arms. It’s okay to have fun with other people. d. I don’t need a sexual par tner to get me off.

If we looked at your internet search history, we would see porn involving:

If you could only choose one sex act to perform for the rest of your life, what would it be?

a. Biting. And maybe a little blood. b. Me and my par tner having sex. But the real thing is always better. c. Group sex. The more, the merrier! d. Porn isn’t my thing. Getting off by myself is just as fun.

a. Giving, receiving, and then eating head. b. Anything that allows me to become closer with my par tner. c. I have to choose one? d. I’m pretty low key; I’m cool with just masturbating and doing my own thing.

5 6

All of the world’s problems would be solved if everyone a. Realized what they wanted and pursued it. b. Fell in love c. Had a good orgasm. d. Was self-reliant.

If your genitalia could talk, they would say: a. Feed me! Feed me all night long! b. All you need is love. c. Make cum, not war. d. I'm single and I don't need to mingle.

Your favorite sex toy or accessory is: a. A whip and some bondage tape. I love being in control. b. Warm massage oil to rub over me and my par tner. It’s intense and romantic. c. Twister. It’s a fun game to play when there’s three or more people. d. A good fleshlight/dildo that will get the job done so I can call it a day.

If you chose mostly:

your sex spirit animal is a:

praying mantis

parasitic flatworm

Watch out boy, she’ll chew you out! Not only do you eat your par tners out, but you also actually eat them. Your diet of small insects has already left you depleted of nutrients, and nothing works up a good cannibalistic appetite like a good fuck.

With the right person, love lasts forever. What’s the point in constantly changing sexual par tners? Your main goal is to get that “white picket fence,” except, in your case, that involves undergoing metamorphosis, fusing with your par tner, and residing in a fish’s gills until you both die.

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bonobo Bananas and casual sex… could life get any better? You’re all about celebrating sexuality and that includes not adhering to monogamy. Why put a limit on something so liberating? Sex is your go-to means of conflict resolution. If someone steals your termite mound you don’t argue with him, you give him great oral.

whip-tailed lizard Sex isn’t a big par t of your life; you have a lot of better things to do, like sunbathe on a rock for a couple of hours. You pride yourself on your independent spirit. Who needs copulation anyways, when you can produce your own embryos?