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Final Project
Pt 1; a perfect ending. feeling a rush of shared excitement - finally! just like me!
warmth, embraced, a queer kind of friendship. we sat in the grass and talked about how our lives were growing up, how our queerness was realized and how it affected the way we walk in the world. our stories are so similar yet so, so different. miles and miles of time away, you announce to your friends that you’re probably maybe gay. you start a spark in their minds, and soon after you’re deemed the trail blazer of coming out. you are brave, do you know it? you were the person who i wished for. so desperate for approval from others, and not meeting anyone like you, i took it upon myself to starve my queerness, the differentness, the part of me that i knew i could definitely be hated for. and i can’t stand the thought of being hated. and a part of me hated myself for who i was. i was taught that i couldn’t love like that, that it wasn’t *real*, that anything other than normal is impossible, wrong, destructive. so i listened, and i believed them. not completely, that is also true. that’s why i never stopped immersing myself in online queer culture, why i desperately searched for any sign of queerness in the online personas i followed and in the fiction that i read. we talked about this too, how we’d entrench ourselves in media and later realize that we were part of the group we were so obsessed with. finally... just like me
you opened your heart so quickly - your friends, they tell me that they’re so happy that you’ve met me. you open a window into your life and lend a hand to help me hop in. i see how you love others, and how they love you. we run through the lawn of a backyard riddled with ripe fruit and laugh like children at how sweet the juice is. we share a meal and spend hours talking about nothing and everything. i sometimes stop and listen to the chatter, and i feel complete warmth even when i cannot understand what is being said. we read the cards i brought and i learn how each of you sees love. i see the way you interact with your loved ones, the way you so deeply care to spend time with them. letting go, giggling in giddy joy, acting like absolute fools. finally, just like me
cried a farewell last night
thank you for offering me a bizarre, unfair amount of kindness
thank you for showing me a glimpse of your life, your entire world
thank you for extending a hand in friendship, in solidarity
thank you for being my friend
I feel like my time here, my glimpse into another person’s life, feels like a glimpse into an alternate timeline. A timeline in which I accepted myself from the beginning. A timeline in which I told a friend about my crush on Jen from Buzzfeed. A timeline when I refused to normalize myself, refused to uphold the boundaries that were unfairly placed on me. A timeline when I was brave. A timeline when I stopped being so damn scared. A timeline when I realized that my friends would still stay friends with me, and those who didn’t want to, I should let go of anyways. There will always be people who don’t match up with your values, your energies, your being. I won’t lie to myself and say that it wouldn’t hurt like a bitch, but it’s a hard fact of life that homophobes, transphobes, racists, xenophobes, ie bigots exist and there will be always be bullies and people who don’t care about you, who WANT to put you down, who want to hurt you. In a world of power, there will be those with some and those without. I was given a small window into my friend’s life and saw a life pathway built around friendships who learn and grow right alongside you. I’ve always thought about that – what if? What if I let go earlier? In my timeline, the forces around me were not as kind to me. I was told queerness was ugly, so utterly upside down. I didn’t have anyone to tell me otherwise. Perhaps if I had a positive role model to tell me that it WAS okay, that it was beautiful and wonderful. Perhaps if I had a friend like them in my life who was the first to come out and encouraged others by simply living their life the way THEY want to, perhaps I would have had the courage to do so earlier. I can’t change the past.
But I can think about how the events of my past shaped my present, and how my present shapes my future. Thank God - I DID let go! There’s no race to live your truth, but oh god it feels so good to do it NOW. I’m so thankful that I found the bravery these people I know now have embraced so many years ago. I feel like my own person, like an entire human soul. I don’t feel the need to please anyone. This queer experience, of finding yourself and maybe even fearing yourself, but, ultimately, coming to love yourself despite dominant society failing you, that is a queer experience. Regardless of any experience, something we all share is having to live in a world that ultimately does not accept us, does not want us.
An ode to knowing that although things are different here, and that there’s no possible way that I could have had a similar timeline just simply because of how different our spheres and worlds are... despite this, despite the fear and self hate and internal violence I was forced into because of the life I was born into, despite all of this, I was still able to find myself and love myself and find others who love me for my whole humanness.
There’s a lot of work to be done in the world, for our lives and our safety and our happiness. I think the friends I’ve met here are doing that work. Through their love for each other and thus their refusal to conform, to stay quiet, to accept the norms in place.
Meeting this special friend may have been completely chance, but I believe fate had a little bit to do with it too. To give me this window, to let me see what beauty it is to allow a person to be themselves. The sooner, the better.
____ DISCUSSION
Pt 3:
It’s funny to see how these ppl’s reflections of their lives fit in line with exactly what we discussed through our readings and class discussions. Norway may be progressive in law, but not necessarily in practice. Each of the queer people I asked this about, or asked them to speak about their queer experience, expressed frustration at there not being much of a strong queer community here, and how they still experienced everyday oppression (you may call these micro aggressions).
Nordic model of inclusion + welfare, making this a space where it is looked down upon to discriminate for someone’s sexuality
A different relationship to Christianity
In the U.S., I grew up in a heavily queerphobic, heavily strict and monitored environment where I was even monitoring myself, reprimanding myself for all of the gay content I was consuming but allowing myself to keep doing it because I was “outside” of the community and thus could not be associated with it or have to think of the consequences.
In middle school I was fully aware that I had strong crushes on gay female celebrities but was petrified of sharing that information with anyone.
I shut myself down immediately, but continued to consume gay, lgbt, and trans media for years and years after, allowing myself to do this because I could convince myself that I was just “a straight girl” who was a big fan of the community.
After coming to college and experiencing true freedom from the expectations and values placed on me, it took me less than three days to come to the realization that I was in fact, extremely not straight. It took me 6 more months to fully feel comfortable admitting to myself and claiming the label that I was gay. It took me another year to “come out” to all of my friends and folx I really cared about.
-talk about how this is a divide between my experience and the experiences of the friends I made here. L & their friends came out when they were extremely young, in middle school actually. Our timelines diverge here.
Only recently, I began to make friends on the shared experience of our queerness. Meeting my close friends now, sharing intimate + tender moments. Loving each other and supporting one another the way family might do. A queer kind of love shared in these emotional bonds. A kind of love I had not experienced before my full acceptance and life as a queer person. Tender, radical love.
Meeting L, sharing on our experience of being queer and trans. And not to say that their life in Norway is so much better. The Nordic model may allow for some general acceptance, but queerphobia still has its roots in other malicious ways. Many of L’s friends still don’t use their pronouns. A is called the slur version of the word lesbian, and she recognizes that being a lesbian is not favorable to society. She wants to be a prof of gender studies at her uni but told me that since there is already one queer person on staff, she’ll never be hired on.
M telling me about how even tho queer ppl are accepted on the outside, and in the law, in practice, not so much.
-A telling me that people hate lesbians
-in Norwegian, the word for lesbian is also really similar to the slur, “fucking lesbian”
CONNECTION TO THE FIRST ARTICLE WE READ
Norway’s state feminism and inclusion of queerness is heteronormative, only assimilating those that fit into the family, hetero model (thinking to naked sculpture park, extremely family oriented)
Same sex has to still be straight – family, private, culturally straight.
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9.6.19 Venabu Reflection Assignment
The first picture is my first few hours of being in Venabu and just reveling in the peace and nature all around me. I felt like a kid again, running to the swing set at the playground. I felt finally in a place where I could rest!
The second picture is me finding a troll with Brian on our way to the grocery store. I don’t have too much information about trolls to really understand how they work, but it was a neat find to see something so Norwegian.
The third picture is at sunset, overlooking the hills. Being outside really helped connect me back and ground me, and it was so beautiful to be surrounded by so much green and so many living things.
The fourth picture is a picture outside of the hotel. Again, Venabu was so gorgeous and it was really a breath of fresh air to spend time there away from the city. This place felt more like home to me than any other place, likely because I’m from the Pacific Northwest and enjoy spending time outdoors very much.
The last picture is from when we went horseback riding with some of my classmates! It was raining, but still a really amazing time. I asked our guide a bunch of questions about her time growing up, about the educational system, and about her plans after college. It was encouraging to hear from someone else who also is a bit unsure about the future. She told me she really wanted to travel before doing more, which inspires me!
Venabu really taught me the importance of slowing down, spending time with people, and finding the time to really relax and take care of myself. I was able to spend a few hours helping make cookies and journaled a bit too. I was able to understand why Norwegians liked to stay in cabins during the winter season - it’s so cozy! I do think about the folks whose family doesn’t have cabins in the mountains, and how they might experience coziness in a different way than this. Someone’s immigration and/or economic status could very well determine what kind of rest they would receive or not receive during the hard winter months.
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9.1.19 Assignment
At Pro Senteret, I really made the connection with the “Muslim women and foreign prostitutes: Victim Discourse, subjectivity, and governance”, especially when thinking about how Romani immigrants and other immigrants of color face much more violent and threat in their work. Because of their immigration status, calling the police in any violent situation with a client could potentially also mean deportation, so there is a trend of not calling the police unless you are in threat of death. That is terrifying and incredibly dangerous, but is something that is experienced due to the discourse surrounding immigration. This really made me aware about the intersections at play with race, ethnicity, gender, and immigration status that make some people’s lives and work much more dangerous and difficult. These factors cannot be ignored in movements towards protecting a certain community, in this case being sex workers. If you assume that sex workers are all white and only orient the work and activism towards that population, the point is severely missed and there are many, those who are most vulnerable within these intersections, who are completely left out of the picture.
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Reflections 9.1.19
The world is a big ass place and I can’t keep hiding myself in the safety of comfort and familiarity. My growth, my joy, comes from the unfamiliar. Thrusting myself into unknown depths. Feeling the rush of nothingness. The weightlessness of it all. It scares me to death. But it allows me to feel deeply familiar with myself, and to open my heart to experiences that change me and challenge me.
I remember trying to post on my tumblr earlier, trying to process my feelings about it place and water them down. Sometimes it feels like my feelings are much too large. It feels silly reading those entries now, as I know I was trying to fabricate a more acceptable and digestible nsrrative. My anxiety has lessened and my mind is more free to think and feel as it pleases, so I feel willing and comfortable talking about how I really feel now.
There’s a lot of work to be done in the world, for our lives and our safety and our happiness. I think the people I’ve met here are doing that work. Through their love for each other and refusal to confrom, to stay quiet, to accept the norms in place.
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9.1.19
spent the day hanging out with a friend from back home! walked around a bunch and I recounted the events of the past week, spending time and getting to know my non binary friend and all of their friends too! it was really amazing to get such love and such welcome from completes strangers. my pal and i took a buncha cute pictures today just for fun :-)
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8.31.19
today I mostly just recovered from the party the night before, nursing a hang over and a bruised wrist. I was so worried about it that I went and got myself a brace from the pharmacy LMAO. I really did that to myself!!! I was drunk and asked my equally drunk friend to pick me up and spin me, and so she picked me up upside down and then promptly dropped me on the ground where i landed on my left hand. ouchie
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8.30.19
Today was a whirlwind of events
Went to the intercultural museum where I checked out a bunch of really cool exhibits on protest art!
and then........
I was told about the lgbt clubs in Norway and got the contact of a 29 yr old to go partying together sometime
I went to a Norwegian climate change protest
There I saw a Norwegian metal band, student dj group, actors from Skam season 1, a country Norwegian folk musician, and a famous Norwegian rapper
We screamed for several minutes and hopped for the environment
And in the end to wrap up the afternoon I was shat on by a bird
Now I’m cooking wontons with some classmates and then am going to my friend’s house to buy beer and get shitfaced at this big ole party!!!!!
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9.29.19 Pro Senteret notes
Idea that sex work = everyone is forced into sex work (sex trafficking)
Forced, reluctant, eager
Narrative that it’s mostly forced and that policies protecting sex workers are only protecting those who are eager which is a small percentage.
MOST common group is reluctant.
-reluctant = earn more money going sex work, just don’t have great options. Are vulnerable to ppl who are sex offenders bc they practice on sex workers.
Should protect the group in the middle.
Ole Martin Moen
Coercion, choice, circumstance. (U.S.)
Removing demand, is just like bulldozing the slums bc the homes are bad and leaving the poor with no homes.
Politics of sex workers
-can’t call the police bc the police will target their status, usually migrants who sell sex
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8.28.19 Assignment
tw: sex work, sexual violence
Today’s readings really brought up things that I haven’t thought of before regarding sex work. The Nordic model criminalizes the buying of sex, not the selling. This, in theory, protects sex workers and lets them keep their jobs while reducing the total amount of sex work in general, which is related to the want to reduce human trafficking in which sex work can be involved in. However, the demand for sex work will not simply go away by criminalizing the act of purchasing. Changing legality does not deter action. In the case of sex work, this in actuality makes their working conditions less safe because their clients are now people working outside of the law, who may resort to violence or coercion more with the worry of negative action if caught. Shutting down the online forums for buying sex makes it much more dangerous for sex workers who now can’t screen their clients online. Learning about Pro Sentret and how this government funded (!!!) organization is aiming to make conditions safer for sex workers as well as provides feee care and education gave me so much hope. Even though this organization is not perfect, and still perpetuates stigma in its own way by the way it’s organized and by the language on its website, the fact that it exists to care and support sex workers is amazing. Learning about Pion, the more radical and activist approach version to Pro Sentret, was also so encouraging. Pion is much more critical of the laws and how they maintain stigma and oppression. I was blown away that these two organizations exist and are doing so much work to protect such a vulnerable community. Reading about these two organizations made me think about my class on prison abolition and recognizing reformist attitudes versus abolitionist attitudes, in which reformists want to work within the framework of the existing law/government institutions, while abolitionists want to get rid of the institutions all together. Pro Sentret reminds me of a reformist perspective, while Pion as a more abolitionist perspective.
A quote that stuck with me from the article “Muslim women and foreign prostitutes: Victim discourse, subjectivity, and governance” was: “Tolerance discourse establishes a hierarchy in which some people are marked out as different from the norm, and therefore as potential objects of tolerance, whereas others, through their (self)-ascribed ability to tolerate that difference, constitute the norm” (pg 273). Tolerance creates an object to be tolerated, and there is always someone who is doing the tolerating of that object. This creates power dynamics that are then made invisible, because tolerating seems like a grand service of civility that the tolerating person is “giving” to that which is being tolerated, and that which is being tolerated now must be grateful about it. This is related to the dichotomies of the civilized/ uncivilized, free/unfree, in/out, us/them.
A question for Pro Senteret would be: how are you preparing and providing services for LGBTQ+ folks in a way that is aware of the innate differences they face in their work?
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8.27.19
damn this was a full daY
met up with the nonbinary friend from online and they showed me around some realllllly beautiful places that they grew up with! it was SO much fun! we saw so much cool art, a community garden, and EVEN A BADGER!!! later we walked by their friend’s new apartment and spontaneously went up and hung out with her + her roommates! it was so cool to talk to ppl who actually live here, and it felt awesome being so welcomed :’)
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8.27.19
Guess who receives the FUCKING IDIOT AWARD
me it’s me
we were waiting in line for a boat and it was gonna be 25 min long wait so I was like “oh hey lemme go get an ice cream” so i shimmied under the bars of the line and realized right after that there was an opening maybe 3 ft away HEHEH and uhhhhh everyone in my program who was nearby definitely saw and definitely laughed at me + the STRANGERS nearby had a good ole chuckle anyways again example 35846 of why u cant take me anywhere
and then after getting this ice cream my TA walks by and says “o the boat is leaving now” SO I RUN with my big ass ice cream splattering everywhere and i miss it by literal seconds LMFAO. I sadly turn around and walk back to find my TA, who is on the call with our prof telling her “o I think they made it- nevermind” as i skid to a stop, thoroughly embarrassed :] then my TA goes home and now I’m waiting in line again like a true 1st class doof
// moving on: i hung out by myself on the island the boat took me too, and it was beautiful! i explored, breathed the sweet air, touched some water, and danced a little bit in the trees with my shoes off.
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8.27.19
We went to the Nobel Peace museum as a class! There was a rlly cool greenhouse/ climate change exhibit that was really friendly towards folks who don’t know too much about facts or figures, or about how they can help on a personal level! Some notes:
-Liu Xiaobo, imprisoned for inciting subversion of state power. Tiananmen square riots.
-Most of the white ppl established organizations or were the heads of committees, etc. the poc were ppl who were feeling violent governments, trying to seek + create peace. On the ground activism. Getting imprisoned. NOT *ALL* but those who were doing on the ground work tended to be those with less privilege.
-Names to check out later: Elihu Root, Elie Wiesel, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf
-“Armed conflict was no longer economically viable” Sir Norman Angell. Received a prize for book. Truly sad that the reason to stop war is only because of money.
-Just makes me sad that I know there are more women + poc who have done so much painful and difficult work for peace yet are not recognized. Are imprisoned, are killed in their efforts. I’m glad some of these figures are listed, but it doesn’t feel like enough.
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8.26.19
met a rlly cool nonbinary friend in Oslo off (u guess it) tinder! we walked over to a really pretty part of town next to the port, which turned out to be a really old military base which is now a tourist spot. i’m the biggest fool who forgets to take pictures when i’m in awe, but i remember it being a really sunny, warm, peaceful afternoon of sitting in the grass and chatting about our lives growing up in our separate countries, separate experiences. it is a really sweet memory. :-) later that night i cooked some tasty dinner with some classmates!
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8.25.19
went to a heeeeellla pretty museum called the Folk Museum! I loved being outdoors and being around so much beautiful nature! I spent majority of my time looking/feeding/petting the animals in true farm nature. The bathroom signs... cowgirl and gentleman, the two genders
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8.25.19 Assignment
Picture 1:
This statue is from the naked sculpture park. I was enthralled by the way this woman was holding her hair and how she was in a powerful stance. I’m wondering what the motivation behind this piece of art was.
Picture 2:
Another statue from the naked sculpture park. I imagined these women were in a secret gathering, perhaps a witch meeting!
Picture 3 and 4:
I almost missed that these gates had beautiful artwork on them! I really enjoyed the femininity expressed in this art. The women are holding each other while nude, embracing one another without shame. I wondered how much of the naked sculpture park was specifically queer, as there were a lot of themes surrounding children and the family, but also many statues depicting those of the same gender embracing each other. Nakedness is extremely vulnerable and is definitely seen as sexual act from our culture in the United States, but in this park it did not seem sexual at all. It seemed as a way for human beings to connect with one another and invite each other into being vulnerable with one another.
The naked sculpture park was really fascinating! i don’t recall seeing sculptures in the nude in such a relaxed atmosphere. the sculptures were not sexual in any manner, and many of them were depicting family life and bonding between human beings. men hugging and holding other men, old folks, babies and young children, etc! they were not extremely detailed, and it made them almost more “real” and connected to human nature, of being tender with one another.
Picture 5:
I found this piece of art from a Viking ship in the museum and felt drawn to it. The carvings are incredibly detailed and intricate, which are so impressive to me. I was imagining how skilled the artists and carvers were, as there were many other pieces in the museum that were equally beautiful and some even more detailed. How come these pieces were able to be so intricate, and survive until this point in time? How did art practices fit into the Viking culture, which is seen as fairly violent and masculine dominated?
Picture 6, 7, 8, and 9:
These are placards from the Sami culture museum. I found this section of the museum to be really saddening and frustrating. I understand that there’s much importance and meaning in including the Sami’s history in more museums and garnering attention and awareness, but I found myself feeling angry about the way the museum portrayed the Sami as a culture of the past, and as a culture that the Norwegians only treated a “little unfairly”. It felt that the (white) Norwegians are distancing themselves and stripping themselves of blame from the trauma of colonialism, genocide, and racism that their ancestors inflicted on the Sami people. There were so many artifacts from the Sami culture, yet this is a culture that is still very much alive, and these artifacts should only be in the museum if gifted to from Sami people. I suspect that not all of these were gifted. Picture 6 is about Norway returning a stone it stole from the Sami, which is indeed a step but only an incredibly small one that does not make up for the many other, more horrible injustices inflicted. A stone is not the same as the lives, wellbeing, and dignity of the Sami people. Picture 7 and 8 are about the genocide of the Sami language, a tactic that colonizers used to subjugate indigenous people. Not allowing people to speak their language and removing their ability to name themselves in their language is violence. Names hold power, and the Church knew that. Picture 9 shows blatant racism. (White) Norwegians othering the Sami and marking them as less than human to hold power over them is another tactic of colonizers to justify their higher status over the colonized as well as a show of more privileged people justifying their power over those they oppress.
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8.24.19
1st full day in Oslo!
My class and I got brunch and chatted a bit about what the course will look like, and then went to the naked sculpture park which was so fun & I got to bond a little with some classmates! then we went to the flea market and I got myself some running shoes which are SUPER COOL and then I got lost lmao and couldn’t find anyone and didn’t know how to get back and ALSO didn’t have WiFi so I gave up circling the area and went to a shop and got some yogurt and then asked the man there if there was WiFi nearby or how to get to the bus, and he gave me loose directions for the bus (and mind u I didn’t pay attention on the way here like an absolute fool) and I just started walking PRAYING that I could ask for more directions and figure it out. and then THE UNIVERSE ANSWERED bc I saw my prof walking up the street HOLY MOLY I WAS HAPPY and now im chilling in the grass - 2:15pm
-my prof got me a WAFFLE and chatted with me and walked back with me together it was so sweet!!
-apparently i didn’t take pictures of this day which is honestly so disappointing!!! it didn’t register in my brain that TAKING PICTURES IS VERY USEFUL FOR RECALLING MEMORIES
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9.19.19
The ache in my left hand (a souvenir from a drunken attempt of being picked up and spun around at a housewarming party a few weeks ago) reminds me that the events that had happened (colliding into the lives of queer friends in Norway) were indeed real. Meeting those people seems like such a far away experience... yet my slow, steady healing refuses to let me forget. “Right”, I think to myself. “Why do I have to remember?” It feels easier to forget. Now that it feels like a giant knife had severed these relationships from my present, it aches. I reach to grab something and wince from the dull pain. “Right.”
I had experienced a heightened sense of happiness, a rush of joy and love condensed into such a short period of time. Taken away, it’s now just an unrelenting memory: unable to completely fade, but still not quite tangible. It really does feel like a dream. A good, good dream. It only hurts because it ended.
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