could no longer have a working relationship with Nina, nor could Nina read her lesbian love poetry at a woman’s bookstore. (The poems no longer genuinely reflected love for women.)
In a more public example of bisexual exclusion, the gay and lesbian community in one city decided to drop the word “bisexual” from the title of its lesbian and gay pride day march. A bisexual, Micki Siegel, had strongly supported the inclusion of the word “bisexual” in the march’s title. Two lesbians responded to Micki’s arguments in a gay newspaper by calling her “Mrs. Siegel” and criticizing her for trying to attach to the lesbian community rather than create a community of her own.21
An anonymous male political activist, who now identifies as gay rather than bisexual, summarizes the anti-bisexual sentiment that he has observed in the gay male community. Gay men, he reports, often believe that identifying as bisexual is:
a phony period of being pressured into conforming to society’s standards, and it’s a giving in to this pressure, therefore it’s a lie; it’s immaturity. . . . Another belief is that straights run the world and oppress gays. Gays are finally making progress. Progress is fragile, so you bisexuals shut up and let us gays have our time now. . . . Also, there is the belief that homosexuality, not heterosexuality is what people are really discriminating against, so bisexuality is a nonissue.22
My own experiences parallel those described by others. I was hurt and baffled when two lesbian friends explained that they would no longer be able to vacation with me once I became involved with a man. They had never met my male partner so they were speaking entirely from an abstract position; they could not imagine any man with whom they would want to share social space in a vacation setting. Oddly enough, they had repeatedly vacationed with one of their sisters and her husband. My friendship, however, appeared to be contingent on my being a “pure lesbian.”23 Similarly, I was shocked and dismayed when a feminist activist referred to me as a “hasbian” after I married a man, thereby erasing my feelings toward and experiences with women.
Ironically, the lesbian and gay community often criticizes female bisexuals for sleeping with men and diverting energy away from the lesbian community,24 but it is sometimes the actions of lesbians and gay men rather than our male partners that keep us from working politically in the lesbian community. For example, when I was asked to serve as an openly gay delegate to the Democratic National Convention, I replied that I did not think that would be appropriate since I was currently involved with a man. The person who had “nominated” me immediately responded by agreeing with my assessment of the situation. I learned that he later described the conversation to someone else and called me a “coward” for being a bisexual rather than a lesbian. It was not until I met a woman who identified herself as a bisexual and who explained to me that there was a bisexual community that I came to feel more comfortable with that label and orientation.
Today, I feel comfortable with the label of bisexual and cannot imagine being involved with a man (or woman) who did not share my feminist vision and commitment to equality for lesbian and gay people. By doing childcare, housework, food shopping, and so forth, my male partner facilitates my feminist and lesbian political work rather than hinders it. The assumption that the reverse would be true is obviously the result of stereotypical thinking about “all men” but, in addition, is deeply insulting about my taste and preferences. Why would anyone think that I would pursue a relationship with anyone— male or female—that prevented me from doing legal and political work?
Not all lesbians and gay men have such a spiteful view of bisexuals. I have found, in fact, that some lesbians and gay men have been more supportive of my fluid sexuality than I have been myself. The gay and lesbian community also seems to have progressed in recent years toward greater inclusion of bisexuals; recent anthologies on bisexuality25 reflect this trend. Bisexuality, however, challenges people’s feelings and actions concerning inclusiveness. When women who have had sexual relations with people of both sexes, and who do not disavow those relationships as authentic expressions of love and commitment, can exist within the community of women in their wholeness rather than as stereotypes, then we will have created a more genuine feminist and lesbian politics.
Individuals who cross racial lines have suffered similar problems. Maria O’Brien Hylton was rejected by some members of the black community during the Northwestern Law School appointment process because she did not have a strong enough black identity. One member of the black community described Hylton as not authentically “black” because unlike most African-Americans, she was not the descendant of “twelve generations of enslaved Africans.”26 Other members of the black and Latino communities questioned whether Hylton would be a mentor and identify with the needs of minority students.27 Hylton’s multiracial background, along with her conservative law and economics views, made her an unacceptable candidate for some members of the black community.
Hylton’s story also reflects how these negative attitudes can make an individual feel uncomfortable in continuing to do political work within the black community. Before the controversy surrounding her candidacy, Hylton described herself as being involved with many black community organizations and identified as “black.” This experience, however, caused her to say: “Woe unto the next black person they try to hire. . . . May he or she have really thick skin.”28 Certainly, Hylton will pause before she checks “black” on an employment application in the future, and possibly she will pause before joining a black organization, wondering if she will be considered “black enough” to be a proper member. If such categorizing causes Hylton to retreat from political work on behalf of the black community then the categorization battle will have had a profound negative effect on her and others.
Gregory Howard Williams similarly has been stymied by racial categorization. Williams is the child of a white mother and light-skinned black father who “passed” as white when Williams was a young child. Williams looks “white” but, subsequent to his parents’ divorce, was placed in an impoverished household with dark-skinned black relatives and friends. He tells a story of applying for a sheriff’s position with the Muncie Police Department. Due to political pressures, they needed to hire a black sheriff. Williams applied for the position so that he could support himself to finish his college degree. A local black minister opposed Williams’s appointment, claiming that the sheriff’s department was trying to hire him in order to preserve a “lily white” appearance. Responding to such political pressures, Williams considered withdrawing his name from consideration. A cousin gave him the following piece of advice which convinced him to remain in consideration: “Let the politicians worry about who’s black and who isn’t. Nobody in Muncie ever gave you any breaks just because you looked white. You’ve had to take just as much crap as anybody I know, black or white. ... If you’re in a position to arrest some brothers, you are gonna be fair—not like some of the hillbillies they got on the department.”29 The cousin’s prediction proved true, as Williams reportedly worked hard within the department to ensure that blacks and whites received fair treatment. Had he listened to the local minister, the community would have been deprived of Greg Williams’s fair policing and he might never have been able to afford to finish college, attend law school, and eventually become the Dean of the Ohio State University School of Law.
Categories also have debilitating effects on people with disabilities. Children’s behavior can be criticized or praised depending on whether they have been categorized as “disabled.” A story told to me by an activist in the community of people with disabilities illustrates this point. Two children are on a hike with their parents and need to urinate. The able-bodied boy goes discretely behind a tree to urinate, and people say, “Oh, isn’t that cute—that boy needed to pee and went behind that tree.” Another child, with mental retardation, also goes discretely behind a tree to urinate, and people say, “Oh, isn’t that horrible—that retarded boy has no control and had to pee in public!” The same behavior receives a different response depending upon the perceived category of the child. If we could move beyond labeling, we could respond to the children based on their behavior rather
