I will be 50 this Spring and came out @ 19 in Lincoln, Nebraska. The word dyke has always been really special to me, and I was comfortable saying it long before I came to like lesbian. Lesbian used to seem like labia or something, clinical and fancy, although in the early 80s, the Lincoln Legion of Lesbians was going strong in Nebraska. Dyke was comfortable for me, and uncomfortable for everyone else, and that made me love it. It was strong, in your face. If you called yourself a dyke, then there was almost nothing left they could say about you that was worse.

Back then, using the word Dyke separated us from the closeted lesbians. Those of us who would use it were the ones who were willing to stand and fight, sometimes literally. And I spent a lot of time as a young dyke and an Aries, thinking about fighting. The word dyke had no place in the phrase lesbian and gay. So the word dyke also separated us from the gay men who called us fishes and had no use for us at all. In those days, gay men were not kind to us. They were even more condemning of us than the straight world for being fat and hairy and loud.

It’s hard sometimes to hear the younger ones snear when they say the words lesbian or dyke, the same way I used to snear at “gay woman”. So I just keep myself in mind. The young ones who piss me off now, are just like me and the way I spoke to many of the middle-aged ones when I was young. As we all keep pushing the boundaries, we move past where the ones before us were.

Intergenerational solidarity seems like a vitally important thing and I believe is the responsiblity of those of us in the middle years to try and get started. The one’s coming behind us are younger, probably poorer and more QPOC. The challenge will be to see if the boomer generation will help them along or not. When the boomers leave this earth, will their wealth go to their straight families or to fund the survival of the next queer generation?

What a great question. Now in my early twenties, I was taught (as a child) that “dyke” is a really derogatory thing to say; granted, I was taught this by mostly straight-identified family and teachers. As a result, I haven’t had a really positive association with the word (though this is changing somewhat as I have become more active in the queer community). I notice this negative feeling with the word seems to be a general trend with a lot of people my age, queer and allied.

I do see how different the word “dyke” can be for other women, often of older generations. I would love to learn a little bit more about this. What does the word mean for you? What do you think about the trend in education and amongst younger people to forbid/villify the word? Do you identify as a “dyke”? If so, then when did you start, and what was that experience like for you?

i want to think more about what you said about marriage…

I consider myself pretty lucky in my group of friends, many, probably most, of whom identity as heterosexual. I resist, and in fact often resent (though I really get where you’re coming from, believe me), the insularity of many queer theme-groups and activities; it’s just not me. I appreciate the time and place for queer-center, or women-centered space, but I think with my generation I am seeing a need for something different. I can’t count how many times I’ve been in a queer, community-building event, panel, class, etc. and someone comments on “Wow, you certainly have a lot of breeder* friends.” I wish I could show others the “queerness” I see in so many of my straight-identified friends, in their envisioning of their own racial/cultural/national/sexual identities, in their willingness to ally, in their love an support, in how often they put themselves on the line for me to make sure I feel safe, loved, and appreciated, and in their total comfort openly talking about their occasional same-sex attraction or our sex lives. It really makes me uncomfortable to have to explain to some of these friends exactly why I can’t take them with me to event X or event Y, when they make a lot of space in their lives to make me feel included. Where would I be without the sibling, classmate, parent, friend who has stood up for me when I didn’t have the resources to do it for myself? And why would I really want to show up places that they aren’t welcome?

This has all been a long way to say that maybe I do have a queer community, but it’s definitely got a lot of straight people in it.

And yes, Judy, I wish I had more intergenerational friendships. In my family and chosen family, there are some awesome elders I can turn to for guidance, but there are few people who are openly queer or LGBT. I would like to know how you, and others, formed your communities in the past, how you see that changing, and what you might say to someone with my experience of community now. It would also be really nice to sit down for tea once in a while with a cool aunt/uncle/grandparent type person who would give me some solid relationship advice without having them preface it, “Well, honey, here’s my idea, but it might be different for you because, well, you know (awkward pause) I’m not gay and you are.”**

*Breeder. I could write another post on how much I dislike that word, and not just because of its derogatory intention. It also falls back on that old queerness and sterility myth. It’s just inaccurate; queer folks have kids and they’ve been having kids and making all kinds of families as long as heterosexual people.

**This has actually happened to me, and more than once.

ill start with what is a hot topic for me – from your list of questions –

“is it jobs and housing?”

id like to shine a light on the problem of lgbt homeless youth – and the sad irony that the very place many of them from all over the country have come and looked for refuge, the castro – is a place where there has been community resistance (this is what i understand as a community of economically privileged white gay men) to providing housing and safe space for these young queers (many of them queers of color) to find themselves, heal themselves and grow into the next generation of artists, activists, teachers, therapists, etc…

it is troubling to me that the national lgbt agenda has been usurped by a similar demographic of socio-economically privileged white men – to claim that gay marriage is the value that will free us all – when in fact – marriage (as a federal institution) for those of us who are low-income actually can be severely negatively impacted financially and medically by marrying our partners. this is a fact that many low-income heterosexual seniors find out – and some actually get divorced so that they qualify for the kind of medical insurance they need…

i think it is vital that we understand the intricacies of these political movements – and look to see whose needs aren’t being met in the community and strategize accordingly. just because someone is a homosexual doesnt necessarily situate them in queerness – queer can be a transitory state – and for some of us it is of value to remain on the margins – but that doesn’t me those of us in the margins don’t deserve housing and healthcare in the community we feel most allied to…

what do you think?