Issue No.2, January 2009
The Open Mic Issue
An Undergraduate Journal of Research and Creative Art
Speakeasy
The Open Mic Issue Cover Editor’s Page 3 Guapa 4 Surface Tension 6 Creative Art and Poetry 13 The Danger of Dependence 14 Creative Art and Poetry 15 The Bar; An Examination of Lesbians and Public Spaces 16 I’ve performed an Abortion: A Response to Last Issue’s Abortion Stories 26
!4th International Women’s Film Festival
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Karen Lew Carly Clemons B.D. Flory Various Artists Madeline Morcelle various Artists Molly Ranahan Chelsea Ellert
In Case You Missed It Our Staff Managing Editor: Marina Wright Editors: Lauren Carmer
Speakeasy
An Undergraduate Journal
Our last issue explored themes like shaving etiquette, abortion, genital mutilation, the gendering of America politics and crises, and gendered Bodies in literature.
Carly Clemons Erin Cotter Chelsea Ellert Jessie Kelsey Madeline Morcelle We would also like to correct Joann Pan an error in our last issue. The
Layout:
Marina Wright
Writers:
Carly Clemons Jessie Kelsey Madeline Morcelle Chelsea Ellert Lauren Carmer
Issue No 2 January 2009
Article “Genital Mutilation and its Consequential Destruction of Female Autonomy” was written by Jennifer C. Loft
A Heartfelt Thankyou to the Staff of IREWG Patricia Shelly, Dr. Rosemary Dziak, Dr. Sharmistha Bagchi-Sen, and Lydia Kerr
Thanks to Our Contributors
B.D. Flory
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is a Sociology major. He just finished his Honors’ thesis, in which he created a screenplay.
Molly Ranahan is an Environmental Design major.
Issue No 1 March 2009
Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue Erin is a junior English major. And no, she does not want to be a teacher. Erin has considered herself a feminist since the age of 13, and at one point was a dreaded “femenazi.” Luckily, those days are over. In addition to feminism, her interests include food, books, running, dancing, and animals. Particularly cats. And she has no problem admitting that someday she will probably become a crazy cat lady. When not working on Speakeasy or schoolwork, Erin is a member of the UB Swing Club. She also has an unhealthy addiction to teen fiction novels, and a pet frog named Voltaire. Carly is a senior Sociology major. She is a certified bookworm and has an undying love for peanut butter. She is attempting to learn Spanish and would love to be fluent one day. Aside from feminist issues, she is very interested in the fight against cancer and hopes to help as much as she can. Carly also wishes she had a good singing voice, and is absolutely terrified of whales.
is a senior majoring in English and Psychology. Receiving a playschool tool bench and action figures in her youth prevented her from being particularly amiable to the kitchen or the color pink, though she wishes she was more capable beyond pre-packaged meals. She is still waiting for life to become a musical, where breaking out in song and elegant dance is socially acceptable. She is hoping one day they will legalize marriage to inanimate objects, so her loving relationship with her iPod can finally be official.
Jessie
Joann is a senior communication and English major pursuing a career in Journalism. After graduating next semester, she will attend a Journalism School in her beloved NYC. She’s a huge fan of shopping, reading, traveling, and interesting people. Her perfect day consists of a great cup of coffee, a good chat and learning something new.
The Editors & Their Mission(s) Our goal at Speakeasy is to provide: *a forum for undergraduate research focused on issues of gender and sexuality *an opportunity for undergraduates to meet and exchange ideas *a safe space for dissenting views as well as community and global activism fuelled by academic research *a creative outlet for students who support the cause of gender equality, feminism, and women’s rights
is a senior English major. It is debateable whether Ginger Spice or a certain book series by Tamora Pierce that landed under the Christmas tree in sixth grade is responsible for her enthusiasm for feminism. She has a slightly unhealthy attraction to science fiction, especially when kick-ass women and any kind of love story are involved, and has quite an obsession for world mythology and folk tales. Her passion for Arthurian legend knows no bounds, and reading Beowulf in its original Old English form was the highlight of her year. Really.
Marina
Madeline is a sophomore English major. Although h er interests are strongly rooted in feminism, she finds no issue with fine lingerie or the color pink. Her mother administrates the family salon at which her father is a hairdresser, which is perhaps at the root of her inability to respect gender norms. When she isn’t writing for Speakeasy, she is likely deciding which facet of the world she wants to change next. Her interests also include environmental issues, anthropology, and her three dogs, Enzo, Harry and Tula. She is infuriated by butterflies.
Lauren is a senior English and Linguistics major. More
so than feminism, she is interested in gender relations and hopes to study this and Renaissance literature in her graduate education. Lauren also has a pair of stilettos for every occasion, even if they were a man’s invention.
*an opportunity for students to showcase their work in a journal dedicated to undergraduate academics Submit your research, poetry, prose, & artwork to our staff at ub-irewg@buffalo.edu
Karen is Speakeasy’s
artist in residence and a senior Health and Human Services and Sociology major.
Chelsea is a senior in UB’s School of Nursing, and her roommates’ goto for all pressing medical questions.
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender
Whether on the road, overseas, or in our own little corners of hometown, we’ve all gotten some fun litte pick-up line, hollers,or whistles. As obnoxious, annoying, or rude as they are, sometimes, they’re also quite an ego-boost. And of course we know thats a contradiction! Here are some fun ones- and yes,we’ve REALLY gotten these.
“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got fine written all over you.” “Do you have a jersey? I want your name and number.”
“Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?”
“You dropped something...my heart!” Guapa
by Carly Clemons
As an American student studying abroad in Spain, cultural confrontations were almost inevitable. Things such as the complete disregard for one’s personal space, the difference in meal times, and the inability to find any shop open during siesta, or the hours from 2-5pm, were initially mind-boggling to me. As the weeks and months went by, these things became less and less noticeable as I adjusted, if not assimilated, to the Spanish culture. I was able to overcome my reactions to things influenced by my New York upbringing when life moved at a slower pace, and I was soon able to resist the urge to sprint past people walking slowly on the sidewalks. When colorful flamenco dresses in the windows of shops were no longer sights worth stopping for, I knew I had finally adjusted. There was just one tiny cultural difference I could not seem to get over. The catcalls. Catcalls are so much a part of Spanish culture that there is even a word for it. Piropos are a part of daily life in Spain for almost everyone. Almost every excursion included a hiss, whistle, or shout from a Spanish man, both young and old, rich or poor. Some piropos where a simple hola or guapa the Spanish word for pretty girl. Others were clever and even better were the ones that were just downright strange. While
“Yo Shorty!”
“Hey girl, how you doin?”
“Hey Mami, do you come here often?”
“Marry Me!”
“My friend here is shy, but he wants to talk to you.”
“I don’t know your ethnicity, but I feel some electricity!” “I want to see you in your birthday suit.” “You’re a painter? I’d paint you- I’d paint you in ice cream!”
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Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue
“Girl, you a long drink of water, but I’d sip you slow!” “I’d like a piece of that sweet and sour chicken ass.”
“If you pay, I’ll put out!”
“Ay Dios Mio!”
“I know it’s not Christmas, but you can always sit on my lap.” “You have napkins? Do they have your number on them?” a group of my girl friends and I were walking to class one day an older man standing in front of an Italian restaurant shouted to us, “Would you like some of my spaghetti?” Needless to say, we did not. What was the strangest part of it all was how Spanish women dealt with this constant attention. I watched in amazement as they walked right through a group of whistling men without skipping a beat. They could continue their conversations amid shouts of marriage proposals without even blinking an eye. It was as if they couldn’t even hear them. But they could! Spanish women spend hours chatting about the piropos they’ve gotten. The most creative ones, the funniest ones, how long it’s been since they’ve gotten one. It was just part of the culture. At first I was outraged. How dare these men think they’re going to get my attention by whistling at me? Do they really expect me to respond to that? Over time I realized they meant no harm. In fact, the men were almost surprised if anyone ever responded to one of their constant calls. I took a cue from the local women and learned to almost enjoy it and accept it as one more aspect of Spanish culture to which I was able to adjust. As one of my professors wisely said, “The piropos are annoying until you stop getting them. Then it’s just depressing.” Now I can hold my head up high as I walk through the streets and feel confident as the guapa I know I am.
“I’ve gotten guys asking me if I speak Spanish, or if I’m Hispanic. They shut down when I say no.” “Hey snowbunny, I want to lick your flakes.”
“Your eyes are pretty!”
“Cutie in the blue shirt!”
“You’ve got gorgeous legs, I bet they could wrap around a man real strong.” “You don’t want kids yet? Well we can still practice then.” “Damn! Look at that ass!”
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender
Surface Tension By B.D. Flory
Sarah folded her hands carefully and perched on the sofa, strangely afraid her color would rub off on the pristine surface. In her mind’s eye, her dark brown skin left a streak across the couch like a color swatch. She leaned forward and straightened her spine until she sat at the edge of the seat cushion, all contact between skin and sofa broken. Her nylons were worrisome; sheer and comfortable, they would offer the couch little protection if she began to perspire. Sitting opposite her, a blonde woman with a carefully sculpted brow and cheekbones flipped through one of the waiting room’s many magazines. A little girl had pressed herself into the gap between the woman and the arm of her chair, and she was watching Sarah closely. Sarah smiled weakly. Case mods were trendy among the social elite, especially for their children. Family resemblance was a commodity for the glitterati, and if mommy had her cheekbones lifted or her eyelids evened out, it would be important that her little girl also had mommy’s face. Even if it was paid for in monthly installments. Sarah glanced at the cover of the woman’s magazine: BODY LANGUAGE, a magazine that declared itself on the case of your favorite case mods! The cover featured a woman with the slitted eyes of a cat and a twin row of leopard spot tattoos running down either side of her neck. Text encircled the woman’s face, advertising the contents of the magazine. Just below her chin large print declared The Eyes Have It! We look at the hottest ocular case mods. Smaller print at the edges of the cover carried capsule descriptions of the magazine’s contents. Sarah read Case Closed! Is your case mod a chassis mod? We help you stay out of court! And Bedroom Eyes – Drive your man wild! before she noticed the woman was returning her stare. Sarah blushed and let her gaze drift down to the coffee table. She was thankful, for once, for her dark skin, against which it was difficult to see her embarrassment. More magazines were spread across the table, titles like Now Image and New Beauty. The cover models arrayed before Sarah looked back with their green and gray, violet and blue eyes, their white skin. Always their white skin. Her own eyes, dull brown, the same color as her skin, quickly snapped back up to the far wall. It was the color of milk. The single painting that hung there was an irregular grid of solid black lines on a white field, squares of red and blue and yellow dispersed within. The painting seemed to float on a white field, ultimately contained in a black frame. Only the words Composition in Yellow, Blue, and Red – Piet Mondrian, black type on the field of white space, offered an explanation. She glared at the text, willing “...and White” to appear, for the title to acknowledge what was unspoken. She stared long enough that the colors began to blend. The yellow square, if she did not look directly at it, blended into blue or red. But the white squares were inviolate, pure and sacrosanct, sui generis.
Drawing by Karen Lew
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“What happened to your face,” asked the little girl, fascinated. She had climbed out of her burrow while Sarah was distracted, and was now standing between her mother and Sarah. Woman and girl did bear an uncanny resemblance, though Sarah couldn’t tell whether she’d had no work, or if it was very good work.
Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue Sarah raised her hand to her own cheek. Nothing had happened to her face. Her meeting with Dr. Tanner was purely a consult, a conversation about a case mod. She felt her cheek grow warm under her fingers. “Madison,” the woman hissed. She pretended Sarah couldn’t hear her, and Sarah pretended the same. “It’s happening again,” Madison said. She pointed. “Mommy, look.” Madison had seen Sarah’s skin darken with embarrassment. Sarah’s cheeks grew hotter as the girl giggled. Madison’s mother grabbed the girl by her wrist and jerked her back toward the chair. Anger followed the heat in Sarah’s cheeks. She lifted her chin and glared at Madison’s mother, but the woman only glowered down at Madison and scolded the girl. Unlike Sarah, the woman’s skin was icy and pale, not a hint of the embarrassment or anger that had colored Sarah’s skin. Sarah had read about capillary constriction. Controversial at its invention, there had been some question as to its status as a case mode or a chassis mod. It was a vastly different procedure from the work Sarah had in mind, so she hadn’t pursued that line of research very long. Even so, she knew how it worked. The woman’s micro surgeon had removed a significant portion of her facial capillaries and constricted the larger blood vessels in her cheeks. Shame and anger no longer reddened her cheeks; neither joy nor arousal. Madison turned away from her mother and plopped to the floor. She sat with her legs and arms crossed, her lower lip jutting out obstinately. Unlike her mother, Madison’s pale skin glowed bright pink. Madison hadn’t recognized Sarah’s blush against her darker skin, but the little girl was certainly blushing herself. Sarah wondered if it was the last time. Mommy’s face, in monthly installments. “Miss?” The nurse stood expectantly at the door that led to the examination rooms and surgery. She smiled easily when Sarah looked up. Her conservative powder blue skirt cut below the knees, and she wore a plain white blouse. Translucent pink lipstick took years off her face, a shade that would have seemed sluttish against Sarah’s skin. Sarah smiled back tightly, concealing her own teeth behind pursed lips. The mirror told Sarah that her teeth were too white for her face: they made her skin seem shamelessly black, and she preferred to be merely brown.
“Miss Imago, Sarah Imago?” asked the nurse again.
“Yes,” said Sarah. As she stood, she smoothed the wrinkles out of her blouse. Black and silky, it flattered her. It was slimming, and lightened her skin tone considerably.
The nurse’s silver eyes flickered almost imperceptibly. If not for the faint bioluminescence embedded in her iris, advertising the artifice, Sarah would never have noticed.
Cassandra’s smile brightened and she chirped, “Fringe benefit,” but even then, Sarah didn’t realize she was staring. Cassandra’s nostrils flared slightly as she smiled, and Sarah thought she saw the nurse’s pupils, haloed by her luminous silver irises, dilate slightly. A faint blush rose in Cassandra’s cheeks, and Sarah finally knew she was staring. Cassandra’s blush revealed a pattern of capillary sculpting on the left side of her face, and a stylized sun in delicate pink seemed to rise with her color. Sarah pulled her eyes back to Cassandra’s and smiled awkwardly. The hired help would of course be an advertisement for Dr. Tanner’s body shop. State of the art, state of humanity, state of the future. Capillary sculpting, bioluminescent irises, even total ocular replacement. Everything and anything that was legal would be hers for the asking, and maybe even a few illegal chassis mods. Sarah wondered if the faint glow in Cassandra’s eyes came from a sub-optical LED, if her own biorhythms were being displayed at the periphery of Cassandra’s field of vision along with everything from the temperature to the time in Tokyo to Sarah’s most likely path across the room. She wondered if Cassandra could see how Sarah’s pulse had quickened as Sarah admired her. As Cassandra turned, Sarah noticed the FirmWear logo etched on Cassandra’s iris, circling her pupil, accompanied with a stylized A and C intertwined across the pupil itself. AnyColor. The faint glow was just for today; maybe just for this afternoon. On a cloudy day, she might go with steel gray, or even a rich, royal purple. Sarah wouldn’t be able to afford eyes like that with a year’s salary in the bank. But Sarah didn’t want eyes like that. She was here for something else. Skin. Smooth and white and flawless like Cassandra’s. Her clothes, her eyes, would be like Mondrian’s squares of color, all the more brilliant, all the more meaningful, for their appearance on a neutral, colorless field. Surface Tension
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender
“The doctor will see you in the last room on the right,” Cassandra said.
Sarah sat in the black leather chair across from Dr. Tanner’s desk chair and fidgeted, tapping her palm against the end of the arm rest. The Persian blinds were turned so that they cast alternating bands of light and shadow across her forearm, and she watched the muscles in her forearm tense and relax. Life beneath the skin, revealed in sunlight and hidden in shadow. She glanced to the corner of the room, where a classroom anatomy skeleton dangled dejectedly from his stand. She envied him. No one would ever ask him why he had a white name like Sarah. They would never be surprised at his mother’s blonde hair. They would never hesitate before referring to him, euphemistically, as “well-spoken.” Sarah didn’t talk much anymore, anyway. She started as the door clicked open. “Thanks, Sandy,” Dr. Tanner tossed over his shoulder as he entered. He closed the door softly. As he circled the desk to sit, his eyes remained buried in the manila folder in his hands, Imago, Sarah marked on its tab. He closed the folder and placed it on his desk, tenting his fingers over it. His fingernails were perfectly trimmed, probably modified to stunt unwanted growth. When Sarah looked up, he was smiling easily. “Sarah?”
She nodded.
“Good,” he said. He seemed genuinely pleased to see her. As he sat, he waved one perfectly manicured hand at the skeleton. “Have you met Bob? He’s very happy with the work I’ve done for him, aren’t you, Bob?” His smile shifted to a grin. It was as if his mouth was a living thing with moods of its own: smile, grin, smirk. But the smile was never gone. Probably facial work, but she couldn’t see the scars. He placed his hands in front of him on the desk and folded them together, arching one eyebrow to prompt a response from Sarah.
Slowly, she said, “Hi...Bob?” She didn’t take her eyes off Dr. Tanner.
“Don’t be silly,” he chortled. “He’s just a dummy.”
Sarah thought better of answering. Instead, she asked, “Are you Dr. Tanner?” She couldn’t quite believe it.
“In the flesh,” he said. He winked. He waited for her to laugh.
She didn’t.
“Anyway,” he said, “Sandy tells me you’re here for a free consult. What is it you don’t like about the woman you see in the mirror?”
She didn’t explain that whenever she mentioned that she enjoyed a rap song, she would automatically remind herself that she also loved Chopin and Tom Petty and Cream. She didn’t explain that she was tired of the curious looks she got every time she referred to herself as black, and that she was tired of explaining that she had never felt African American. She didn’t explain that she dropped out of graduate school because she was tired of the professors who gave her knowing looks when they spoke of the structural disadvantages of race, and redlining, and the works of Gilbert and Donham and Wacquant as if they should hold some special meaning for her over and above the meaning they held for any other student in the room. The mirror had nothing to do with it. It was the woman.
“I don’t like my skin,” she said.
Dr. Tanner leaned back. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but the corners of his mouth were turned slightly upward. Sarah suspected they would remain so even if he began to frown. “Most women who don’t like their skin say it makes them look old,” he said. He smirked again. “I tell them that they make their skin look young.” He showed his teeth. Sarah shook her head. She didn’t believe for a moment that he told women they made their skin look young. He spent too much money on ads asking women if their skin made them look old to tell them that it didn’t. Sarah’s skin was smooth and supple, still young. Age was obviously not the problem. He peered at her. She could see his eyes flickering
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Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue across her face, down her arms, elbows, wrists, hands, neck, jaw line, anywhere her flesh was exposed, he surveyed with the attention and precision of a master craftsman. His eyes were cold, sharp like a chisel. She could almost feel him marking out lines and cuts on her flesh, a sculptor searching for the sculpture within. “I can take you in a little bit beneath the cheekbones,” he said speculatively. “Maybe tighten you up under the eyes, get rid of that tired look.”
Her hand twitched, wanting to leap to her cheeks, touch them, test them, probe them. She clutched her wrists. She was here for a reason. She hadn’t said it right.
“I want you to take care of a birthmark.”
He nodded noncommittally. That was what she had been told to say, how she had been told to say it. It was code, like looking for snow in Los Angeles. She had done her research, read about street clinics in Hong Kong and Macau, Amsterdam and St. Petersburg, and she was sure her phrasing was perfect. I want you to take care of a birthmark also meant I’m not an A.M.A. cop. At least until the American Medical Association figured that one out, then it would be something different. Dr. Tanner would know she was asking for an illegal procedure, that a total skin transplant had been classified as a “performance enhancing” chassis mod by the board of the International Structural Surgeon’s Association. The board cited figures and facts from sociologists and psychologists suggesting that dark skin affected social outcomes ranging from educational achievement, to job attainment and retention, to interpersonal relationships. Skin was also a major identifying characteristic for police, security, and intelligence communities worldwide. Powerful political forces were invested in keeping people in their own skin. She thought he might be insulted. He couldn’t have stopped smiling if he wanted to, so she couldn’t tell. Her hands twisted helplessly in her lap. It was so obvious. She saw the thin line that ran along the edge of her palm, dividing white from brown, light from dark, day from night. The terminator, she remembered. The terminator was the line on the planet that divides night from day. The terminator was the edge of her palm, the soles of her feet, the moment she woke in the morning. Asleep, she was colorless. She could feel the skin of her cheeks warming, darkening. She couldn’t explain it to him. He was colorless even awake.
“I’m going to step out. Why don’t you get undressed, and Cassandra will be in with a camera to document your case.”
Her case. Her covering, her sleeve, her skin.
By the time Dr. Tanner closed the door, Sarah was in tears.
***
Cassandra daubed at the corners of Sarah’s eyes with a piece of tissue. Her own eyes were dry, but the luminescence had faded slightly to match her downcast demeanor. State of the art. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m in here to take a picture of, Sarah,” Cassandra said.
“My ‘case,’” Sarah said bitterly.
Cassandra’s eyes clouded further, and her platinum blonde hair darkened slightly.
Sarah chewed her lip lightly. “I’m sorry.”
The tints in Cassandra’s hair receded, but her eyes remained overcast. “It’s okay. Most of the women – and most of the men – that come in here are sensitive about their bodies.” She tucked a finger under Sarah’s chin and leaned forward to look into her downcast eyes. “It’s pretty normal. Everybody wants to be a model.”
“I guess so,” Sarah said. She didn’t want to be a model. “What about you?”
Cassandra laughed prettily. “Oh, no. I couldn’t afford to be a model.”
“I don’t understand?” Surface Tension
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender Cassandra smiled gently, as if explaining there was no such thing as Santa Claus. “Dr. Tanner runs a family practice, so we don’t get much of that clientele.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “but I have it on good authority that Samara gets monthly tune ups. Tucks, pigmentation, capillary restructuring, the works.”
“Capillary restructuring?” Sarah was shocked. She had always admired Samara for being natural.
“It’s a procedure that Dr. Tanner doesn’t even do. The equipment is too expensive,” Cassandra frowned slightly. “But even Samara has to look like Samara to get a modeling contract. Haven’t you ever wondered why they all want to be actresses?” “What?” Sarah knew who Samara was, of course. Everyone she had ever gone out with for more than a month had told her that she looked like Samara. She hated Samara. She only wanted to look like Sarah. She was hardly following the conversation, but she asked gamely, “Why?” “Because actresses work in moving pictures, and change is the norm. At least a little bit.” Cassandra held up the camera. “All a model has is before and after, yesterday and today, today and tomorrow. Still life in skin.” Cassandra smiled and tilted her head, posing, and snapped a picture of herself. She held up the camera next to herself, showing Sarah a side by side comparison of photograph and subject. “I get to be me,” Cassandra grinned, “and I get to be a different me anytime I want.”
Sarah couldn’t help but smile back. She actually laughed a little as Cassandra posed for another self portrait, lifting her chin comically high.
Cassandra raised her hand to the side of her mouth, as if concealing her words from a lip reader. “Don’t tell Dr. Tanner I told you, but I haven’t let him touch my birthmark.”
Sarah was shocked. Surely, Cassandra could have wiped away a birthmark through gene therapy, pigment modification, or any number of other procedures. Judging from her eyes, Cassandra wasn’t afraid of invasive surgery. Cassandra shrugged. “I want one thing that makes me me. I can change my face, my eyes, my hair, my build. I can put on weight or take it off.” She unbuttoned her blouse as she spoke. “I can even change my voice,” she said, “with a snip or a suture in my vocal chords.” She lowered the shoulder of her blouse and spun around, a come hither motion. She tossed her head to indicate her left shoulder, where a discolored patch of skin about the size of a silver dollar stretched across her shoulder blade. “But this, this is me.” Sarah took a step forward, and Cassandra lifted her hair up with one hand so Sarah could get a better look. She let her blouse fall away, exposing her back completely. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “You can touch it.” Sarah had already raised her hand, and her fingertips were poised only inches from the mark. She gently traced the outline, the terminator, with her fingertips. She was sure she could feel a temperature difference; the dark flesh of the birthmark was slightly warmer against her fingertips than the pale skin surrounding it, and slightly rougher. “Can you feel it?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Your birthmark,” Sarah said, “can you feel it?”
Cassandra turned her head so Sarah could see her smile. Her cheek dimpled endearingly. “Only when it’s being touched.”
Sarah jerked her fingers back as if the birthmark had suddenly become white hot. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She was sure her own cheeks were just as hot.
Cassandra straightened, let her hair fall over her shoulders, and pulled up her blouse. When she turned, her dimples were still playing across her features. “It’s okay,” Cassandra said, “It’s my skin. I can feel it when it’s being touched.” She reached out and brushed the pad of her thumb lightly across Sarah’s cheekbone, where the vestige of a tear track was still barely visible. “Just like yours.” Sarah’s eyes fell to her hands, to the tips of her fingers that had felt the warmth of Cassandra’s birthmark. The skin of her palms was white, as pale as Cassandra’s. She brushed her fingertips across her face, following the path of Cassandra’s thumb. “I feel my skin all the time.”
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Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue
***
Dr. Tanner met Cassandra in the hall on her way out. “If you’d rather not have my staff photograph you, I understand why you might be uncomfortable.”
“It’s not that, Doctor,” she said. “Cassandra made me very comfortable.”
“I work with a number of professional photographers who would be happy to arrange a shoot,” he added.
She shook her head, “I’m not really interested, Doctor.”
He nodded skeptically. “Make an appointment with Cassandra if you change your mind before you leave.” He couldn’t stop smiling. His grin reminded Sarah of a fast food mascot. He just needed a cowlick or a pair of bright red shoes. She laughed.
Dr. Tanner’s scowl tangled with his smile, and he quickly turned away to hide his facial contortions.
Sarah waved to Cassandra on her way out, and Cassandra put a thumb to her ear to mime an earpiece. Sarah smiled, her teeth shining and offsetting the rich, warm tones of her skin. Her liquid brown eyes, like coffee with a hint of cream, played across the magazine covers arrayed across the table. She wondered if these were the befores, or if these were the afters. After a while, she realized, it didn’t really matter. She looked up at Cassandra, and for a moment, she saw her own image reflected in the glass over the reception desk, superimposed over Cassandra’s features. Cassandra smiled and Sarah matched her. Madison and her mother were still waiting, and as the door swung closed behind Sarah, she heard Cassandra’s voice call the little girl’s name.
***
“Sarah,” a woman’s voice said, “over here!”
Sarah was hunched into her coat against the cold, and she lifted her head like a turtle emerging from its shell. “Cassandra?” The early December twilight concealed the figure in the shadow of the adjacent building, but Sarah spotted a pair of faintly glowing eyes. It didn’t sound like Cassandra. The voice was rougher, smoky and seductive, Cassandra after a few years of coffee and cigarettes. Sarah stopped and clutched the collar of her coat, shielding her face against a gust of wind that seemed sharp enough to scrape the flesh from her face. “Cassandra?” She said again. “Yeah, Sarah,” Cassandra said, “it’s me.” The snow crunched under a pair of boots as the twin ghost lights, Cassandra’s eyes, floated forward. She emerged from the shadows. “Sorry about the voice. I tweaked it a little.” It wasn’t the only thing she had tweaked. Her hair was jet black with neon blue highlights, and the once delicate pattern on her cheek was now an intricate tribal tattoo traced in the same shade of blue. She had traded her skirt and blouse for black jeans and a motorcycle jacket. She smiled. Her lips were a dark, rich red.
Sarah stared.
“It takes an hour or so before it doesn’t hurt to talk.”
“What?”
“My voice,” Cassandra said. “It takes an hour or so after an adjustment before I can speak without pain, so I had to change it before I could warn you. Sorry if I scared you.”
“No,” Sarah said. “No.”
They stood and regarded each other for a long moment in the December cold. “I’m not the only one who made some changes,” Cassandra said. Surface Tension
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender “What?” Sarah looked down at her clothing. The old army coat, inherited from her grandfather, could be excused as proof against the cold weather. Truth be told, though, Sarah liked it. It was a jigsaw puzzle of stitching and patching, but it was hers. It also hid most of her ensemble for the moment. She was still wearing the black silk blouse from earlier that day, accompanied by the same plum colored skirt. “You didn’t tell me what to wear.”
“What would you have worn if I told you to be yourself?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah admitted.
“Why not?”
“I guess I would have worn this.”
“Why not?” Cassandra asked again.
“I didn’t know where I was go— I don’t know where I am!” Sarah said. She couldn’t know what to wear if she didn’t know where they were going, who they were seeing, and what they were doing. Sarah’s clothes had never been an expression of her innermost self. She thought she had style, that she knew how to pick a wardrobe, but such things were always contingent on the appreciation of others. “Why did you wear that?” she said, pointing with her chin at Cassandra.
“Why not?”
“You could have been anyone,” Sarah said. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“Because of my voice.”
“Because of everything!”
“Imagine if I had been black.”
Sarah slapped her. “It’s not the same. It’s not.”
Cassandra touched her cheek and the corner of her mouth, checked her fingers for blood. There was none. “No,” she said, “it’s a little harder. For now. Give it time.” She waved her hand, indicating her tattoo, her hair, her clothes. “Case mods, chassis mods. It’s all politics. Even a basic case mod makes you better or worse at something, even if it’s just looking good. Samara’s got 30 years worth of case mods and they make her a better, more employable model. How’s that any different from a baseball pitcher with a targeting reticle in his eye, hot wired to his throwing arm? In 20 years, anyone will be able to be anything, or anyone. I’ve seen some of it, early designs.” She placed a hand over Sarah’s heart, “The only thing that matters, really matters, is what’s inside case and chassis. You can’t mod that, not with surgery.” Sarah shivered, but not from the cold. She crossed her arms and thought again of rap music, of being black or being African American. She thought of being referred to as “well-spoken.” Mostly, she thought of her mother, blonde haired and hazel eyed, whom Sarah resembled so little. She thought of monthly installments. Sarah was suddenly nauseous and raised a hand to her mouth. By the time it passed, she was crying again. She wondered briefly if there was a chassis mod, a total ocular replacement maybe, that would let her turn that off. She was crying a lot today. Cassandra put a hand on her elbow and pulled her close. She was warm and soft, and Sarah decided that tears weren’t always so bad. Maybe some things could be left the way they were, at least for a little while. She thought of the way she felt leaving Dr. Tanner’s office, of imagining herself through Cassandra’s eyes. Cassandra held her until her sobs subsided. She stepped back and for the second time that day brushed the tears away from Sarah’s cheek. Sarah felt Cassandra’s finger tips against her skin, and only a sense memory, ephemeral like melting snowflakes, when they were gone. Cassandra’s eyes were luminous, and Sarah imagined they would be warm on her bare, dark skin, a blush that was secret to everyone but her.
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Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue Cry of the East Coast Baby
Untitled Our memories Like ashes We flick away Indiscriminately Hoping to forget Praying the winds Might take them away But nature’s winds Are cyclical And perpetually, as the seasons Our past Will return. When our ashes disappear Freedom Will become our memory.
Pray help us daughters of the sisters of the east We are not our mothers’ daughters. Our mothers try to teach us their vacuum ways And we refuse to grasp the time and place as they know it We are not our mothers’ daughters. We reject their darkened legacy and we refuse to grasp the time and place as they know it. We cling together as our world shifts We reject their darkened legacy…. Our inverted mothers’ spider webs. We cling together as our world shifts. Is this propriety not insanity? Our inverted mothers’ spider webs hang with costumes and boas and incense and perfume. Is this propriety not insanity? We dream of reshaping the makeshift now.
We hang from costumes and boas and incense and perfume while clinging to dreams. We dream of reshaping the makeshift now wishing to wish wishes of our own.
By Jessie Kelsey
Dendrachronology Slice me open Drill me in to my core Count my rings Ignore the knots, the irregularities They don’t matter. Circle back to my beginning And tell me How long have I been thirsty?
While clinging to dreams Our mothers try to teach us their vacuum ways wishing to wish wishes of their own. Pray help us daughters and sisters of the East.
By Madeline Morcelle
By Marina Wright
Sketch by Karen Lew
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender
The Danger of Dependence: A Love Story By Madeline Morcelle
She was thirsty. All she had ever tasted was the morning dew. It kissed her leaves in wet globules, but was too hasty in leaving, and therefore unsatisfying. She knew what she wanted. It was what she’d always wanted. But now, in her thirst, her tirelessness was fleeting; it was knocking her out of her immobility and into a reverie, in which she was uprooted and could slink around through the sea of green, and find a Rain cloud, and command it to empty itself upon her face. Her roots would slurp the pure, clean heaven. But Rain was but a legend that the sea of green whispered as it swayed. The sea of green had turned russet in its aridity. Do not be mistaken. This is not a tale about thirstiness but thirst; a story of unrequited love. The dew is jealous of the Rain. It can only sigh as it evaporates— it is not serenaded by the thunder. The dew is loyal, but snubbed for its finiteness. The Rain can disappear for months at a time and be warmly welcomed at its return. The dew forms, and then disappears. The Rain rages at those who love it. And she, the youngest, most wilted flower, with her broad face that wanted to be yellow, had a stem that wanted to propel her towards her doppelganger—the Sun. A flower can be very narcissistic, you see. It puts its want to be pretty over its needs. But this particular bloom wanted the satisfaction of knowing what it felt to be ravished by Rain. That was all. She remembered when the green days ended, when the picnics ceased and the people left. She remembered how the sandwich crusts had blackened before turning into the ground that claimed them. She barely remembered the last time she drank from the fountain of her youth, or the last time her unfaithful lover kissed her petals and face, allowing her to do what she was meant to do. But it was less about restoring the golden hue now, more about loving and being loved. About a marriage of the elements intertwined. She had only to wait until Rain came home to the meadow again. Her crimson roots were dwindling. She sensed the days shrinking and hours lengthening. Curiously, today the great star was overcast. Death does not wait. Life is finite. The red stream flows in the beginning and the end, and what it becomes lies in the ripened apple’s seed. It never ends, but it dies. And yet, somehow, there’s always something. The burning sphere lives on. Every instant, every tiptoeing sprite of air that entered her now was no more than a makeshift respirator. It was limited. She was limited. She measured the obscurity above by the stickiness and vague heaviness of the air. She was certain this was death, but the green sea and its long blades exuberantly rustled. The rain came down. She choked on it— last bit of vim wasted as her body rejected life’s requirement. She choked on the choke. She felt the stroke of the sharp beads as they intensified towards climax. She hurt so much as she loved for the last time, and she loved so much that she suffered the most sickening pain. Rain was angry. Had she offended it in her weakness, in her impatience, and her inability to wait? Flowers do not bleed. And yet, now, she felt the entire world, around her and within her, hemorrhaging— losing her vim. Losing herself. Vim— that thing which she had once so closely embodied. Had she vim? Had she been Vim? It couldn’t matter now.
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Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue
Laughing Flower
Epiphany
One might be tempted To think you fragile Plucked from a stem Floating around in currents Too rapid to conquer. You droop from time to time When the sun stays away too long But I know you, Laughing flower You possess a song better Than Milton’s nightingales, sweeter. Your songs are twisted, satirized nursery rhymes Sung from the foot of the stairs Verses meant to make me groan, Give a strangled laugh Torn between outrage and hilarity My memories ring with the echoes of your laugh Another Milton named you In a New York City hospital He saw you clear, Laughing Flower
I’ve searched for years In lines of faces The answers don’t appear This moment I realize All of them Were always here I feel the knowledge Of those before me Passing through The winds implore me To dive inside, beyond our pride For without oneself And an understanding All we do is hide. Today the masquerade Is over Like mouths, my days Are open wide Pouring out Four leaves of clover Instead of useless lies.
By Marina Wright
By Jessie Kelsey
Print by Holly Wright
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender
The Bar: An Examination of Lesbians and Public Spaces By Molly Ranahan
Recipient of local publication Art Voice’s 2006-07 “Best Lesbian-Friendly Bar,” Roxy’s has created a seven-year legacy of being a hot spot in Buffalo, NY. It is “a lesbian, gay, very mixed bar featuring DJs and live music in a mirrored, surreal setting,” according to www.buffalogaybars.com. Roxy’s continues to be nominated for the best bartenders, dance scene, and entertainment. Located on Main Street on the fringes of Allentown and Downtown Buffalo’s Chippewa district, Roxy’s successfully draws patrons from different neighborhoods. Their website states that “on any busy night at Roxy’s you might find the lady bartenders dancing on the bar. Karaoke and dance parties keep the crowds coming while drink specials on the weekends create a crowded but always kicking atmosphere.” Roxy’s has been located in the same three-story structure for the past seven years. Patrons can utilize the front and back porch (weather permitting) and the first floor of the interior. The space is open, offering a dance floor, bar, pool table, dartboard, and plenty of spaces in between for users to socialize in many different ways. Its spatial arrangements and interior décor promote a fun and empowering atmosphere that is especially conducive for women to socialize. Roxy’s has become a central place for many women, specifically lesbians, in the Buffalo community to socialize and explore. The bar has become a central focus of study for historians and sociologists alike who are examining the significance of space in relation to lesbians throughout the development of their culture and community. Due to the nature of their design, bars have became places of socialization, networking, and agency for women in the early half of the 20th century. Historians such as Elizabeth Lapovsky Kennedy, Madeline D. Davis, Kelly Hankin and Maxine Wolf have used the bar in a context to discuss and analyze the women in their early urban lesbian communities, finding meaning between the relationship of these women and their environment. Historians argue that the bar’s significance as a public space yielded an active community of women through the homogenous, white, working class that fought for social change on the basis of sexual preference. This paper aims to examine the historical function of the bar in lesbian communities to generate a modern discussion concerning the social significance of Roxy’s to its patrons in the Buffalo community. It will first discuss the history of Buffalo lesbian bars in order to summarize the historical significance of the bar as a functional public space for lesbians of the time. It will then explore the function of Roxy’s, the modern lesbian bar in Buffalo, by defining the community of regular patrons that frequent the bar. It will examine the way in which the spatial design of the bar encourages or discourages diversity among its patrons by using an intersectional framework in which to examine users and their experiences. Not only will this paper look at the experiences of lesbians who frequent the bar, it will also discuss the experiences of users in terms of gender, race, socio-economic status, age, and the ability to avoid generalizing environmental experiences on the basis of sexuality. Claims will be substantiated with analysis of research that was collected from a survey and a participant observation conducted over a period of one month. These aims will show that Roxy’s produces a community with a different significance than that of the historical lesbian bar. Similarly, this community can be both inclusive and exclusive—breaking and reinforcing societal norms through its rendering of space. Yet the exclusivity of the community that has been impacted by spatial design does not have the same significance to agency of lesbians in public spaces that it did in the past. Due to the social movements generated from the early half of the 20th century, lesbians have been able to claim identity and ownership of spaces beyond the bar. These spaces have been designed through an intersectional lens examining the multilayered identities of lesbians as occupants and users of public space.
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Intersectionality To understand the framework in which the relationship between diversity and space is being analyzed, it is vital to understand the idea of intersectionality. Intersectional theory is discussed within the realm of gender by Kimberle Crenshaw in her discussion of black feminism. In her article “Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity politics and Violence Against Women,” Crenshaw introduces the concept through a discussion of the “multiple dimensions” of black women’s employment experiences based on race and gender (3). In the article, Crenshaw explains that people experience events in different ways. Specifically treated in her discussion is violence against women of color due to the “multiple dimensions” of their identity (3). Recognizing the complexity of a person’s identity enables a more comprehensive examination and understanding of her life and experiences. Crenshaw explains, “ignoring difference within groups contributes to tension among groups” and can act in a way that “excludes or marginalizes people that are different” (3). To reconceptualize the notion of identity by examining individuals as multidimensional and complex beings enables both groups of people and the discourse that surrounds them to be challenged and enriched. Intersectionality is a vital tool for people to use in forms of examination and discussion because it aims to “expose different types of discrimination and disadvantaged that occurs as a consequence of the combination of identity,” according to The Association for Women’s Rights in Development (58-60). As Crenshaw uses her discussion to understand and combat violence against women of color, this specific paper aims to begin a discussion about the relationship that lesbians have within a space. However, it will examine individuals and their experiences not only as lesbians and as women, but also in terms of their race, age, socio-economic status, and physical ability. This paper is not attempting to provide a definitive conclusion for this expansive issue. Instead, it hopes provoke new thought on this subject and begin to provide a framework in which future scholarship can be pursued. Historical Analysis Buffalo has been referred by many to as the San Francisco of the East Coast, relative to the size and strength of the lesbian culture that has developed in the city and region throughout the 20th century. Authors Elizabeth Lapovsky Kennedy and Madeline D. Davis used Buffalo and its women as the subject for an entire history of the lesbian community in their book Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold. The authors used oral history to depict the evolution of the community throughout decades of stories. The bar scene is a significant topic of discussion in the book, occupying nearly the first 100 pages. Kennedy and Davis use this opportunity to establish the legacy created by Buffalo lesbians and their involvement with the bar scene during the first half of the 20th century. It is interesting that bars functioned as critical public spaces in which lesbians were able to develop a strong community. According to Kennedy and Davis, the American bar was primarily a male occupied and dominated space until the 20th century (Kennedy and Davis 31). As women began organizing for social change, they were able to access new spaces and rights in society. The integration of women into the bar space resulted from both the Temperance Movement and the push by women for equal access to inexpensive food which was served in this setting, according to Books of Leather, Slippers of Gold (31); Maxine Wolf in “Invisible Women in Invisible Places” cites that by the 1920s, bar owners and patrons began accepting women into this setting (309). Through activism, women were able to transform a male-dominated public space into a separate environment. This movement promoted the notion that separate spheres for women were not only acceptable, but necessary. The bar became a primary space of social occupancy for lesbians beginning in the early half of the 20th century. Lesbians were also fighting for acceptance and acknowledgment in the public realm. Establishing a social life outside of private spaces was very challenging for these women. Kennedy and Davis explain that lesbians had to create
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender and pursue every opportunity for public socialization (Kennedy 30). Lesbians frequented bars because it was a space that gave them a form of agency within a public environment. Unlike gay men, lesbians felt “too exposed” in open spaces such as parks and sidewalks (30). During the 1920s-950s, it was also thought to be dangerous for women to navigate in the public realm unaccompanied by men. The bar provided a necessary space for lesbians to begin creating and building an agency of movement outside of their homes because the environment provided the safety and anonymity needed for this action to occur. Public space provided lesbians with undeniable benefits for both the wellbeing of the individual and for women as a collective social and political unit. Kennedy and Davis describe the bar as a place of socialization where the women interviewed were able to meet other lesbians and form friendships among their peers; public space enabled women to form identities as lesbians and create solidarity among one another (29-37). Wolf, in her article, also argues that it gave them a space to comfortably act out their sexuality through talking, dancing, and socializing with perspective partners (Wolf 319). Private spaces would not allow lesbians these opportunities, thus disabling them from personal development as gay women. The bar was also a necessary place for lesbians as a social unit. By enabling the social and personal benefits, the bar strengthened the power and influence of these women as a group. Public space enabled lesbians to develop a “culture, a community and a consciousness,” explain Kennedy and Davis, by enabling women to network and form bonds among their peers (65). Women began to organize for an activism that challenged sexist and homophobic social patterns of the time. Lesbians began to realize the importance of their own public awareness and began fighting a “movement of acceptance”(65) that would ultimately give these women greater agency in other public spaces. The bar allowed gay women this opportunity because of its separation from the rest of the public realm. Though a public space, the design of these bars with few windows and dark facades created what Kelly Hankin describes in The Girls in the Back Room as a “sheltered interior” for its patrons. Hankin explains that the bar “offered women a less risky environment than other exposed urban areas” (6). It was an environment less tainted by the patriarchal culture that positioned women as objects for men. At this time, women were unable to be alone in other public spaces; they were certainly not allowed to intimately share company with one another sexually. This factor was extremely important for lesbians because they experienced public space very differently during this time period than heterosexual women, requiring an environment that provided safety and anonymity to them (11). The bar became not only a social and political space, but also a shelter from mainstream, heterosexual, and homophobic public spaces. Women also frequented bars because it was a relative shelter from law enforcement. Kennedy and Davis discuss at great length the level of brutality, both verbal and physical, police used by the early 20th century against lesbians in public spaces (65). Women were ridiculed, beaten, and arrested for embracing their sexuality in public spaces. Many women even felt unsafe in their own homes, or in the homes of friends and peers, when identified as lesbians. Kennedy and Davis explain that the bar provided patrons with a strong feeling of safety, especially among the group (65). Yet, not even this environment could completely protect its occupants from police brutality. Bars were still threatened by police raids, which were only preventable if owners paid off law enforcement (65). Despite this, the benefits that this public space provided to both individual women and the collective group outweighed its shortcomings. Regardless of risk, there was the need for a place outside of the home for lesbian women to meet and network. For this reason, lesbian bars continued to create a flourishing legacy of significance to the women that utilized them, and eventually to the rest of society. The bar became a site of initiation for the community of lesbians that grew within its walls. Despite the legal drinking age, the open and accessible nature of both the design and utilization of the space gave women of all ages an opportunity to be accessed and included as occupants. Many women interviewed by Kennedy and Davis described the function of a big round table as the central site of acceptance and inclusion for new users to the space (Kennedy and Davis 77-80). They explain that if one were invited to sit or stand at the table, she was then “set for life” (79). The table served as a physical site of induction for lesbians in the bar environment. Once welcomed in to the community, young women were able to come out to themselves and to others as lesbians. They came to know their sexuality and the culture that was forming among their peers (79). In fact, many older lesbians be-
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came mentors to the younger girls, according to Kennedy and Davis. In this way, the bar community was inclusive and sustaining as women joined and stayed in these environments for decades as they grew older. The bar also fostered a very exclusive nature to its membership. The community of patronage revolving around these environments was extremely homogenous, consisting almost exclusively of white, working class women (Kennedy 43). This created a divide among women as lesbians on the basis of race and class. Bars did not foster the formation of a racially integrated community because of their location. To quote Leslie, a woman interviewed by Kennedy and Davis, “You can’t be funny in your own neighborhood” (43). Black women resisted bars because these environments did not provide them with adequate anonymity. Despite the fact that many of the bars were located in their own neighborhoods, black women were almost completely absent from these spaces due to the size of the black community. Especially in Buffalo during the beginning of the 20th century, the African American population was not large enough to conceal the identities of gay women” (Kennedy and Davis 43). Even Winters, a popular lesbian bar in Buffalo owned by two black women, had few black lesbians as patrons. These women, particularly black lesbians, needed to feel safe when socializing. They created their own culture and community that the predominantly white, middle-class bar could not provide for them. Racism and ethnic traditions both restricted and empowered black women to create a means of socialization, culture, and definition in private spaces. A lack of anonymity in bars, in addition to the restrictions of these spaces created by white bar owners led black women to find shelter and community “through a strong black tradition of self activity to resist oppression” (Kennedy and Davis 114). Private spaces provided black lesbians with many of the same benefits that public spaces provided for their white counterparts. Women threw parties to form social networks through neighbors and church groups (114). In the public sphere, women were able to find love, friendship, and support. In addition to race, the bars of the early half of the 20th century were also exclusionary on the basis of class. Similar to the experiences of black lesbians, the bar was unable to provide women of the middle class with enough anonymity due to the location of the bars and the public nature of their design. Middle-class lesbians feared association with the bars in their community because it would threaten women’s standings in their jobs and professions (Kennedy 44). The bar scene was also a risky environment for upper-class women to patronize because of the neighborhoods in which the bars were located. However, unlike black and middle-class lesbians, upper-class lesbians were able to use their wealth and privilege to navigate through the public realm without concealing their identity. They were able to negotiate spatial relations by using wealth and power and buying the spaces in which they socialized. Kennedy and Davis described an anecdote in which a butch lesbian ate dinner in the Park Lane, a fancy and prestigious restaurant of the time period (44). This was an experience that most other lesbians could not fathom. The bar, whether intentionally racist or unintentionally classist, adopted spatial and behavioral patterns that created a homogenous culture and community for its inhabitants. Modern Analysis In the later half of the 20th century, the lesbian community slowly became diversified through its own social activism. Social movements affecting gender, race, and class issues began uniting lesbians on the forefront of change, especially in large urban areas (Kennedy and Davis 114). Wolfe argues in the article “Invisible Women in Invisible Places” that the bar has remained a major space for gay women. She explains, “more lesbians go to bars than to women’s centers and the women who use them are more diverse in terms of age, race and economics,which emphasizes the major role that they still play in lesbian life” (310). It is important to note the word choice used by Maxine Wolfe to classify the modern function of the bar within the lesbian community. Wolfe does not claim that the bar has the same magnitude of impact on lesbians that it did in the first half of the 20th century. Instead, she is suggesting that the bar has not become obsolete. It is still a significant space for lesbians to gather, to socialize, and to engage in activity with their peers. Due to the
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender impact of the social and political movements of the second half of the century, women have gained more visibility and navigability of public space. In “Let’s Talk About the Bar,” an online survey conducted about Roxy’s in March of 2008, 30 of 33 participants identified themselves as female and bisexual, gay, lesbian, or queer, while no person expressed a having a significant issue with navigating in public spaces, which are queer, according to a survey conducted on surveymonkey.com. One might argue that lesbian bars of the past helped to create a present context in which lesbians have greater comfort and command of public spaces. As lesbians gained greater visibility and acceptance in public spaces, they were also able to achieve greater navigability and personal control of public spaces. Lesbians were able to expand their social proximity from the bar to other public spaces and venues. In her article “Lesbian Spaces in LA 1970-1990,” Yolanda Retter discusses the expansion of lesbian spaces by listing the following as lesbian and lesbian-friendly zones in the public realm. She begins by characterizing service centers such as the Gay Woman’s Service Center and the Gay Community Service Center, which she believes play one of the largest roles in gay women’s lives (328-329). She next discusses lesbian-friendly spaces and lesbian events such as cruise ships (Olivia Cruises), parks, camps, and resorts. She concludes with a discussion of lesbian-owned and identified businesses such as bookstores and restaurants (329). To this list, one might also consider adding community groups and organizations, coffee shops, and college campuses as new domains for gay women. Retter explains that these new spaces are successful because these “spaces were developed within a modern context and organized to serve the diverse needs of a diverse lesbian community” (329). Changes brought about as a result of social movements of the latter half of the 20th century, such as the Feminist and Civil Rights Movement, were absent in the time in which the bar was the main functioning space for lesbians in the public realm. The movements brought recognition to the many different types of women who identified themselves as lesbians, highlighting them in terms of race, class, gender, religion, ethnicity, and cognitive and physical ability. Using an intersectional framework in which to view potential occupants of a space can help designers to better understand the needs of these occupants, and in turn create a space that is more accessible. Changes that have been made to the relationship between lesbians and public spaces have resulted in the fact that the bar is no longer the only functioning public realm in which lesbians are present, find significant, or form communities. This does not mean that the bar is not a significant space for lesbians from surrounding communities. Referring back to the claim of Maxine Wolfe, the following analysis of Roxy’s will attempt to identify the type and function of the community generated at Roxy’s and how the space encourages or discourages membership to this community. One question presented to participants in “Let’s Talk About the Bar” concerned the issue of Roxy’s and the idea of community. Approximately 81 percent of participants agree that the bar possesses some level of community sentiment among its patrons, according to a survey conducted on surveymonkey.com. One contributor classifies it as “a family” while another called it a “clique.” However, many responses indicate that the nature of the community is partially, if not purely, social. When examining the spatial layout of the public space in the bar, different zones of socialization can be identified and separated by environmental barriers and factors: drinking, socialization at the bar, competition, recreation in the back with the pool table and dart board, dancing and music on the dance floor, DJ booth, smoking, and socialization on the front porch. These spaces provide outlets for different types of behavior within a context that separates the bar according to each patron’s experience. In turn, this separation of space creates a social experience and community through the layout of the interior. Survey participants confirm this experience through identifying certain spaces as “preferred and avoided” and “comfortable or uncomfortable.” It is also reinforced through the range of behaviors, which people described as having engaged in while inhabiting this space. The following chart depicts survey responses to this question: “What do you do while at Roxy’s?”
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BEHAVIOR
RESPONSE
Consume Alcoholic Beverages
89.5 %
Consume Nonalcoholic Beverages
36.8%
Smoke
47.4%
Dance
89.5%
Listen to Music
89.5%
Socialize
100%
Network
36.8%
Talk to People
78.9%
Make New Friends
52.6%
Play Pool
52.6%
Play Darts
31.6%
Stand at the Bar
47.4%
Sit at the Bar and/or Table
57.9%
Use the Bathroom
73.7%
Spend Money
63.2%
Gamble
0.0%
Meet People
57.9%
Source: Let’s Talk About the Bar,” Molly Ranahan, March 2008, surveymonkey.com, http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=wgnG8xuznhoeL4OiELdh4w_3d_3d
When taking a closer look, correlations can be made between a participant’s preferred behavior and the spaces to which they are drawn. For example, those persons who have answered “yes” to the behavior of dancing and listening to music often preferred or felt comfortable on or near the dance floor. These trends throughout the responses to the survey establish a strong correlation between behavior and occupied spaces, indicating that the spatial structure of the bar certainly forms a sense of social community among its occupants. For regular patrons, the survey also indicated that Roxy’s and the historic bar may have functioned similarly for their patrons (Ranahan). Of those survey who answered this question, 63.5 percent said that they go to the bar at least once a week. Twenty-five percent of those surveyed said that on average they go to the bar two or more times a week. Knowing that the bar is only open four nights a week is significant because it shows that there are users who form similar patterns to those described by the historic patterns of lesbian socialization. Those who were surveyed describe the bar as a place to socialize with friends, meet other women for both romantic and platonic relationships, and also to immerse in lesbian culture. Though none of the respondents describe Roxy’s as the primary or only public space in which they choose to socialize, for many it plays an important role in their daily lives. To some, Roxy’s is still a place to meet people, network, and express their sexuality. This is reinforced through programs such as softball games, college night, holiday karaoke, burlesque, pride and holiday parties, and other events that reach beyond a singular goal of socialization to bring people together in the space.
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender Knowing that some patrons define Roxy’s as a community space, it is interesting to engage in a critical analysis of the demographics of the members of this community. Historically, bars foster a homogenous community among white, working class women. One of the major aims of the survey was to gain greater insight about how the space in Roxy’s fosters diversity issues beyond that of sexual orientation. As addressed by Kennedy & Davis, Wolfe, and Hankin, women are affected by space not only in terms of one identity—
lesbians experience their environments not only as women and lesbians, but also in terms of their race, class, ethnicity, religion, age, and cognitive and physical abilities. The final discussion in this paper will utilize intersectional analysis to critically examine the relationship of space and diversity issues in the bar. As a forward to this discussion, it is important to understand the limitations of the survey as a definitive or singular source of information for this discussion. Of the 33 people who were surveyed, only one identified “non-white” as her race. This factor represents a restriction on the diversity of the sample, which implies a possible slant to the responses and experiences represented in the results of the survey. Nevertheless, the information is still valuable to use as a form of research for a preliminary discussion. During a rush period on a busy Friday or Saturday night, one might encounter any range of patrons with varying identities and backgrounds. Yet, after spending a longer period of time at the bar, there are noticeable differences between frequent patrons and those coming in for an hour or two at prime time. The following section will discuss how Roxy’s functions as both an inclusive and exclusive space, relating observation and survey results concerning the demographic of regular patrons with spatial analysis. This discussion is not meant as an attack against the owners or facilitators of the bar, but instead aims to critically examine how space and environmental factors affect the experience of patrons. The spatial design of the bar encourages a diverse range of patrons in terms of age. The behavioral zones that were discussed earlier in this section enable patrons of different ages and interests to collectively socialize while undergoing separate social experiences. Younger visitors to Roxy’s who come to dance or listen to hip-hop music are able to engage in this type of behavior while older users who frequent the bar for drinks and conversation can utilize the spaces around the bar. Open spaces enable different groups to intermingle, which happens quite frequently. These areas of the bar enable a diverse community of inhabitants to form and bond around a central space. The space in the bar can also function in an exclusive manner. This is not necessarily always a negative thing. When examining gender, the spatial design of the bar dissolves the social hierarchy of the traditionally male-dominated bar by creating an environment which provides agency and empowerment to its female occupants. The interior decorations clearly define the space as pro-women. The walls are plastered with images of powerful women who are in control of their surroundings. Women also own the space, and female patrons use both the male and female restrooms, while male patrons do not share the same privilege. The presence of a female owner and female DJs, bartenders, and security guards also suggest a level of domination that women have over the space. These are observations made through a process of participant observation from March 1 to April 1 2008 in which I attended Roxy’s for approximately eight hours per week. This observation is also reaffirmed by the survey responses. Many women report feeling some sense of safety, security, and comfort in the bar because it promotes a powerful environment for women. However, the exclusive nature of this space does not always have an empowering impact on all patrons. Similar to bars of the past, the spatial design of Roxy’s reinforces a social hierarchy that prevents some people from even entering the space. The design of the space inhibits people with physical disabilities from easily becoming patrons of the bar. When examining the physical structure of the facility, it is clear that its design does not promote accessibility. Although most of the utilized space is on the first floor, the stairs leading into the bar prohibits people from using wheelchairs to entering the building. Handicapped parking is also not available. In terms of the interior design, tight spaces in and around the bar make it nearly impossible for people with physical impairments to navigate through the space, especially on a crowded night. The bathrooms are small and do not have handicap- accessible stalls. The height of the bar would also inhibit a person using a wheelchair from easily placing an order. These factors promote a social hierarchy among people without physical disabilities. They also prevent people with physical disabilities from ever utilizing the space, let alone from becoming regular occupants. This particular aspect of the spatial design of the building is obviously exclusionary.
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Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue
Additionally, the location and the design of the bar are more subtle factors that underlie the exclusionary nature of this space in terms of race. Though the bar is not located in a residential neighborhood, its proximity to the Allentown and Chippewa Districts promotes a feeling and usage of a predominantly white crowd. Unlike 134 Dewey, a lesser-known gay bar on the fringes of the East Side, Roxy’s does not provide a neighborhood environment, which black lesbians have historically found to be comforting and engaging. This factor may influence why many black women choose to go to 134 Dewey, or other neighborhood bars, over Roxy’s. Environmental factors that are present in the design of the bar also reinforce social hierarchies in respect to race. Spurred by a survey response that read, “Usually Roxy’s is inclusive…this becomes problematic when they list ‘dress codes,’ which upset patrons’ gender, sexual, and/or racial/ethnic identifications.” The dress code is posted on the front doors, and reads:
ROXY’S FROM NOW ON... NO DO-RAGS/BANDANAS, ON-COATS OR UNDERNEATH BASEBALL HATS... NO BACK-PACKS, NO BUBBLE COATS ROXY’S IS A DANCE CLUB SO DRESS UP IN APPROPRIATE ATTIRE!!! WE HAVE THE RIGHT TO NOT LET SOMEONE IN
This type of signage in conjunction with images of only white women posted throughout the bar may cause women of color to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome in this space. These environmental factors may in fact have an exclusionary effect, promoting a regular community of white patrons. When asked about diversity at the bar, survey participants are varied in their responses. The following chart displays data from the survey listing the responses to this question: “What is the diversity of Roxy’s patrons?”
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender Diversity of Roxy’s Patrons
Source: Let’s Talk about the Bar”, Molly Ranahan, March 2008, surveymonkey.com, http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=wgnG8xuznhoeL4OiELdh4w_3d_3d
No diversity
Little diversity
Moderate diversity
Great diversity
No Answer
Age
0.0%
11.8%
70.6%
17.6%
0.0%
Cognitive Impairment
13.3%
33.3%
6.7%
20.0%
26.7%
Ethnicity
0.0%
35.3%
52.9%
11.8%
0.0%
Gender
5.9%
47.1%
35.3%
11.8%
0.0%
Race
0.0%
52.9%
41.2%
5.9%
0.0%
Religion
0.0%
12.5%
0.0%
6.3%
81.3%
Physical Impairment
29.4%
41.2%
5.9%
0.0%
23.5%
Sexual Preference
0.0%
41.2%
29.4%
29.4%
0.0%
Socio-economic Status
0.0%
17.6%
29.4%
41.2%
11.8%
Several topics such as physical impairment and age yielded definitive answers. The percentage of participants who believe that there is little diversity in regard to individuals with physical impairment is 41.2 percent, while the percentage of survey takers that believe there is moderate diversity in regard to age of users at the bar is 70.6 percent. However, responses are divided in other categories such as race, sexual preference, and socio-economic status. Additionally, this data cannot be directly linked to the idea of community or inclusivity and exclusivity because it is not directly linked with this question, which appeared later in the survey. What can be concluded both from this data and from this discussion about space is that people experience space in different ways based upon their age, cognitive impairment, ethnicity, gender, race, religion, physical impairment, sexual preference, and socio-economic status. These factors affect the way in which people perceive space. To truly engage in a holistic discussion about this issue, it is vital to use an intersectional approach, recognizing that people have multiple identity factors which affect the way in which they relate to space. To truly understand this, it is necessary to attempt to understand the complexity of this issue. Conclusion This intersectional analysis has expanded the scope of the discussion about the relationship between diversity and space by looking at occupants of a particular space in many different terms. It has shown that the design of the physical space and location of Roxy’s has influenced the definition of the community which has been formed. The design of Roxy’s has produced an environment that is simultaneously inclusive and exclusive, one that both breaks and reinforces societal norms.
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Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue Works Cited Buffalo Gay Bars. http://www.buffalogaybars.com/roxys.htm. Crenshaw, Kimberle. “Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics and Violence Against Women of Color,” Stanford Law Review. (Vol. 43, No 6 Jul., 1991). Hankin, Kelly. The Girls in the Back Room. (Mineapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2002). “Intersectionality.” Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intersectionality. Kennedy, Lapovsky Elizabeth & Davis, Madeline D. Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold (Great Britian: Routledge, Inc, 1993). “Let’s Talk About the Bar.” Molly Ranahan, March 2008, http://www.surveymonkey. com/s.aspx?sm=wgnG8xuznhoeL4OiELdh4w_3d_3d. Data was collectd through a process of participant observation from March 1-April 1 2008 in which I attended Roxy’s for approximately eight hours per week. Retter, Yolanda. “Lesbian Spaces in Los Angeles, 1970-1990,” Queers in Space, ed. Gordon Brent Ingram, Anne-Marie, & Yolanda Retter ( Seattle: Bay Press, 1997). Roxy’s, 2008, http://www.roxygirlsrock.com/ Roxy’s My Space Page, 2008. http://profile.myspace.com/indexcfm?fuseaction=user. viewprofile&friendid=70653643&MyToken=00b2add4-aa1c-408d-a918-9d0efba43f55. Wolfe, Maxine. “Invisible Women in Invisible Places,” Queers in Space, ed. Gordon Brent Ingram, Anne-Marie, & Yolanda Retter, Seattle: Bay Press, 1997
Painting By Karen Lew
Women’s Rights and Economic Change, “Intersectionality: A Tool for Gender and Economic Justice” http://www.awid.org/publications/primers/intersectionality_en.p
*Some maps and diagrams from Molly Ranahan’s research have been excluded. If you are interested in viewing them, please contact the staff of Speakeasy at ub-irewg@buffalo.edu.
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The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender
“I’ve Performed an Abortion”: A Response to Last Issue’s Abortion Stories By Chelsea Ellert
As a student in the UB School of Nursing, I was assigned to go to an abortion clinic as part of a women’s health clinical rotation during my junior year. I want to share my views and opinions on my story from the other side of the table; this is a response to “I had an abortion: Abortion Stories,” by Michelle Matthews from the first issue of Speakeasy. The article was a reflection on abortion from three girls who personally have had to deal with pregnancy. After reading those accounts, with this response I hope that people will learn to approach the issue of abortion with a new openness and without judgment. In my four years here at UB, I have formulated my own personal healthcare ethics. An integral factor of my job that I take to heart is providing patients with unbiased facts and support for any decision they make. At 7 a.m. one morning, even before my alarm clock had a chance to go off, I laid awake in my bed with anxiety and excitement filling my stomach. I didn’t know what to expect, as I anticipated my visit to the abortion clinic. I wasn’t intimidated when my professor told me I was going there; I was excited by the opportunity to broaden my clinical experience. I wanted to go behind the scenes of the controversy. As I was driving down Main Street, hitting the brakes every other four feet, trying to find the Women’s Clinic, I finally saw picketers with signs and shouts that indicated that I had I found what I was looking for. Posters in hand, people were chanting for life and against abortion. I got nervous as I was pulling into the parking lot, but I kept in mind the assurance I received from my professor who said that they were not allowed to touch anyone who entered the clinic. My excitement dwindled as I thought about the poor women who come to the clinic for an abortion— not only do they have to cope physically and emotionally with such a heavy decision about abortion, but they also have to worry about people trying to shove views down their throats. Something that I don’t think many people realize is that the Women’s Clinic not only offers abortions, but also provides counseling regarding pregnancy options and birth control. I don’t think picketers should stand outside the abortion clinic trying to intimidate those women who want to come in for an opportunity to talk about their options—not every one leaves deciding to have an abortion, and not every woman goes in there expecting one. A woman should not have to feel ashamed walking into any health clinic, no matter what she is going there for. As I walked inside I did not know what to expect. People have built up the issue so much that I figured it would be scary, unfriendly, and unwelcoming inside. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that it had the same feel as any other doctor’s office. The waiting room was full, and I think, in a weird
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Painting by Karen Lew
Speakeasy: The Open Mic issue
“I’ve Performed an Abortion” way, the women were comforted by the presence of other women with similar situations. After I was introduced to the nurses, I got started. I was mostly expected to stay in the recovery room, to help the patients after their procedure. There was also an opportunity to follow a few patients through the entire procedure. Patients have one-on-one counseling before the abortion is preformed when they are asked questions like: are they sure they want to go through with it, what are the other options, and what they expect from the procedure if they do decide to have it. I was impressed with the counseling because I thought it was unbiased and provided facts without the pressure of judgment. Then it was time to watch—I didn’t know how I would feel while I was watching the procedure. Many thoughts were running through my head—would I be completely appalled? Or would I change my views? The room looked just like any other gynecological exam room, which I think any woman can understand causes some nervousness. The patients get an option of being mildly sedated. After the elective sedative is given intravenous, the procedure starts. The doctor numbs and dilates the cervix. Then a suction tube is inserted into the uterus to remove the tissue. All of the tissue expelled is emptied into a bottle. The whole thing probably takes a total of five minutes. After the doctor is finished, she has to check the contents of the bottle to make sure that all tissue has been removed. If it is not, they repeat the suction procedure to remove it. If all of the tissue is not removed, then there can be complications later on. While I was watching the procedure, I did not feel like I was watching an abortion. I felt like I was watching any other medical procedure. Perhaps this was purely my pro-choice mentality, or it could be the medical training to get the job done, no matter what job it is. In the recovery room, there was a myriad of women, all with their own personal reasons why they decided to have an abortion. The patients that I oversaw ranged from a 16 year old girl who told her mom she was at school, to the 40 year old mother of four children who just couldn’t afford a fifth. Every woman who gets an abortion has her reasons. All are valid. Overall, I thought that going to the abortion clinic was an eye-opening experience, even for me, a feminist who refuses to budge on my pro-choice stance. I cannot say it was or wasn’t what I expected, because I simply did not know what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised with how non-judgmental all of the employees at the clinic were, not just the healthcare providers. This experience helped me see the strength of my convictions on women’s health issues and gender issues in general. All I can ask of people is to put themselves in these women’s shoes before passing judgment on them.
The 14th Annual International Women’s Film Festival www.genderin.buffalo.edu IREWG University at Buffalo ALL FILMS Thursday Evenings at 7:00 p.m., FEB 11th-March 25th, 2010 Market Arcade Film and Arts Center, 639 Main St. $9 General Admission/ $5 special rate Students, seniors, Hallwalls members. Your ticket purchase supporst women filmmakers, providing income through the rental costswe pay for their work. Thursday Feb 25th Club Native dir: Tracey Deer, Mohawk (Canada), 2008, 78 min. Documentary (DVD) The Shirt dir: Shelley Niro, Mohawk (Canada), 2003, 6 min Discussion with Dr. Theresa McCarthy, American Studues, UB. Co-sponsored by UB Haudenosaunee-Native American Research Group. Thursday March 4th The Heretics dir: Joan Braderman, USA, 2009, 91 min. Documentary (DVD) A Co-presentation with Experimental TV center & Hallwalls Contemporary Arts Center. Discussion with Carolyn Tennant, Hallwalls, and film fest programmer Ruth Goldman. Thursday March 18th XXY dir: Lucia Puenzo, Argentina, 2007, 86. Feature (35mm). It Wasn’t Love dir: Sadie Benning, USA, 1992, 20 min. (mini-DVD). Rust Belt Reels: A Night of Short Films original films made by women from “post-industrial” cities in the United States. (min-DVD).
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Speakeasy: An Undergraduate Journal of Research and Creative Art is now accepting submissions. We are a staff of undergraduate students that is funded by The University at Buffalo’s Institute for Research and Education on Women and Gender (IREWG), and our publication is dedicated to subjects pertaining to gender, sexuality and feminism in all its forms, from the academic to the creative. The staff welcomes research papers, fiction prose and poetry, and visual art, as well as responses to previous issues. Our goal is to create an academically fuelled dialogue for all students interested in gender and sexuality. Subject matter in our publication focuses on, but is not limited to, subjects explored in the feminist field. The theme for our Spring Issue is cultural representations of gendered bodies from literature and other media ranging from the Bible to pop culture. The deadline for our next issue is April 1, 2010. We also welcome for every issue: -Music, book, performance art, and movie reviews -Personal accounts of gendered experiences (good or bad) -Research and critical essays on literature, digital media, and creative art -Drawings, Paintings, Sketches, Figure studies -Responses to previous issues’ articles Please send any submissions to the staff of Speakeasy at mewright@buffalo.edu
Speakeasy
speakeasy: An Undergraduate Journal of Research AND cREATIVE aRT
The University at Buffalo Institute for Research and Eductation on Women and Gender