New Year’s Resolutions (because everyone else is doing it)

Usually, I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions. I could never keep them, and I’ve yet to meet anyone else who could. That and they never really seemed that special to me.

But this year, I am making a New Year’s resolution. I’m resolving not to think about the future any farther ahead than this summer. Beyond that, I’m not going to think about it.

This might seem like a really irresponsible resolution, but I really think that it’s for the good of my sanity. As a junior in college, I’m constantly being asked what I want to do when I graduate. Professors ask me about it all the time. My friends are always talking about looking for jobs next year or applying to graduate school. They all seem to have their lives figured out, and I really don’t, and it drives me nuts.

I could go to graduate school, and in many ways, that’s what I’d really like to do. I always feel lame when I say this, but I love learning things. I love researching. And then I love writing about what I’ve learned. Sure, it’s grueling. Sometimes it can be tedious. But in the end, it also feels very satisfying. In many ways, I could see myself as a professor somewhere teaching classes and writing books and never leaving the safe haven of a university. Of course, this is a very idealized vision of a professor’s life. In reality, I know that I’d spend a lot of my time fighting for funding and lecturing to students who really don’t give a damn about the cultural significance of literature or the meaning of poetry. I also know that a lot of what I wrote would be read by other academics…and it wouldn’t go much further than that. In the end, I sometimes wonder if I would have just amassed immense quanities of knowledge for myself without doing anything useful or beneficial with that knowledge. Still, I’ve only got one life to live, and if learning makes me happy, I might as well spend my life doing just that. After all, there are certainly worse things that I could do with my existence.

On the other hand, I’d really like financial independence. I love my family, I really do, but I’ve been mooching off them long enough, and I feel embarassed whenever I have to ask for money. If I got a job right out of college, I could (hopefully) get my own place and a car. I could also get a guinea pig. (It sounds like an absurd dream, owning a guinea pig, but I’ve had three of the little furballs ever since I was five, and my last guinea pig died about a year ago. I haven’t bothered to replace him because, being a college student, I’m not in a good position to have pets, but I’m so used to having a guinea pig that I miss my old one.) I also want to have some fun with my life, though I’m not exactly sure what that means. I guess it means not coming home and breaking out the books for the rest of the evening and spending the night curled up with some sort of Norton Anthology of Literature. I guess it means being able to go out and have a few drinks without thinking, “Shouldn’t I be drafting a paper right now?” I guess it means having time to get involved in things that aren’t related to homework. If I got a job right out of college, I could do these things. If I went to graduate school, I’d come out with mountains of debt. Of course, I’d like to get a job that I would enjoy and find meaningful too.

So, right now, I’m stuck between wanting to go to graduate school and wanting to get a job as soon as I get my B. A., and I can’t make up my mind. Most of the time, I just end up feeling worthless and depressed because, unlike my peers, I don’t seem to have any pratical and useful plan that will guide the course of my life. And this is where this summer comes in. This summer, I’d like to get some sort of writing internship. It’s a good plan either way, because it will give me some praticial experience in the job world and it will also look good on a grad school application. Also, if I spend the summer interning and find out that I like it, I’ll probably end up deciding to work right out of college. If I hate interning and spend the entire summer wishing I was back at school, then I’ll know that I’ll probably be better off going to grad school. But until then, there’s really no point in making up my mind one way or the other.

So, New Year’s Resolution: Prepare for this summer, but don’t worry about what’s going to come after it.

Queer Theory from the Japanese

Yesterday, we had a little talk with the students about GLBT issues, mostly because sexualities that deviate from heterosexuality are not discussed in Japan, and we wanted the students to know that for the most part in America being queer is okay. (There are still some prejudices out there, but apparently, compared to Japan, America is much more accepting of homosexuality, bisexuality, and transgenderism.) Part of the reason that we had this discussion is because there are a few students whom we suspect might be queer, and even if they aren’t, we also want the students to realize that making fun of people for being gay will, largely, not be tolerated in America.

 It was only after we’d discussed what we were going to say to the students that I googled gay culture in Japan. (Normally, whenever I’d want to know about something, Google would be the first place to look, but my time for computer access has been limited.)What I found was enough information and controversy to write several volumes of books.

 To highlight some interesting facts:

 1) In Japan, there is no moralizing about how heterosexuality is “right” and homosexuality is “wrong.” Instead, the focus is on individualism versus collectivism. America is an individualistic society in which the needs of the individual are valued before the needs of the group and everyone is encouraged to be different. In Japanese culture, the needs of the group are valued before the needs of the individual. Everyone is encouraged to sacrifice for the group and practice conformity. Being homosexual/bisexual/transgendered is seen as “wrong” not for any moral reason, but because being queer is a way of being different, which is discouraged.

 2) There doesn’t seem to be much comprehensive education about GLBT issues in Japan. The Japanese often confuse homosexuality with transsexuality and transgenderism. The Japanese program assistant even said that some Japanese people are probably homosexual, bisexual, or transgendered but do not realize that they are because these issues are not discussed openly in their culture.

 3) The Japanese actually have a history of sexual openness and acceptance, as seen from some of their ancient literature and art. The arrival of Western ideas seems to have made queer behavior a taboo.

 4) There is an openly gay section of Tokyo, but most Japanese homosexuals remain in the closet.

 5) In some ways, the Japanese are more accepting of homosexuality than Americans, as long as a person does not advertize his/her homosexuality. However, being openly queer can lead to shunning. In America, this would not be seen as a horrible punishment, but in Japan, people have been known to commit suicide because of exclusion from a group, as would be expected from a collectivist culture.

I didn’t have much time for research, but towards the end, I started to find some articles that delved more deeply into queer culture in Japan than the superficial surface articles in Wikipedia. One article that I read focused on the colonialism of western homosexuality—meaning that western ideas of what it means to be queer are being forced on nonwestern cultures.

This idea had never occurred to me before. I’d never given much thought to how Western ideas of homosexuality were being forced on other cultures, but, from what I read, that seemed to be the case, depending on the writer’s viewpoint, of course. Part of the problem seems to be that the Japanese conception of homosexuality comes from their pop culture, which portrays all gay men as cross-dressers and all lesbians as butch. A Japanese man might admit that he is sexually attracted to other men, but he wouldn’t identify himself as “gay.” In Japan, “gay,” means a queen. A feminine woman who desires other women wouldn’t identify herself as a lesbian, because she isn’t butch.

Of course, not all American gays are queens and not all American lesbians are butch, but isn’t that still the stereotype here in America? For instance, I once met a man who was gay, but I never would have guessed because he didn’t fit the stereotype of the effeminate gay man. He didn’t lisp, prance, make dramatic hand gestures, or look overly neat. In fact, he had a deep voice, a sturdy stance (he was a sports writer whose special interest was in football), understated gestures, and casual dress. No American would have guessed that he was gay.

 And ultimately, that is his right. He can define his homosexuality in whatever way he wants; he can decide for himself what it means to be gay. And people of other cultures should have that same right. They should be able to decide for themselves what being homosexual or bisexual or transgendered means for them and their culture.

 For instance, when we American PAs (program assistants) suspected that some of the students might not be straight, our immediate goal was to out them. Of course, we weren’t going to confront them and force them out of the closet, but we believed that if we let them know that they had a supportive environment in which to come out, they would come out of the closet. And we saw their coming out as a good thing. In America, we tend to believe that whatever you are, you should be open and up front about it. We believe that coming out of the closet is better than staying in it, whatever your closet may be. I know that I often feel guilty for still not having told my friends that I’m no longer a Christian. I feel as though I’m not being honest with them.

 In Japan, however, the focus is not on someone’s individual personality and preferences. The focus is on maintaining harmony within the group. So, in many circumstances, it is perfectly appropriate not to share information about yourself, and doing so is not seen as being dishonest. This includes information about one’s sexuality. One article that I read said that even though the Japanese do not talk openly about homosexuality, their “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy works quite well in their culture. People are free to be queer as long as they do not advertise their difference from the heterosexual majority. To Americans, this would seem to be repressive, but some gays point out that the openly queer culture in America and the stereotypes that it sometimes supports can also be repressive in its own way.

 While I admit that there is some truth in that, I still feel that there should be a place for people who want to be openly queer. They should not need to fear open hostility (which they are often confronted with in America) or shunning (which they are often confronted with in Japan). Japan’s policy of keeping homosexuality quiet might, in some ways, be appropriate to their culture, but I still feel that homosexuals and bisexuals should be granted basic rights that straight people take for granted, such as the right to marry someone of the same sex and the right to be free from discrimination because of their sexuality. Of course, how I believe this should be done might just be the colonialist in me talking.

Ultimately, though, how the Japanese handle their queer culture should be left up to them. Japanese queers should be allowed to define for themselves what their homosexuality means in terms of themselves personally and in terms of their culture. I feel (hope) that the general trend of global culture is progressing in such a way as to become more understanding of queers, but that progress is slow. While I might feel that coming out of the closet is a way to speed that progress, at the same time, every individual should decide for him/herself when coming out of the closet is appropriate. And different cultures should be able to decide for themselves what coming out of the closet means and how it can be done appropriately within the context of their cultures.

 Obviously, this is a very complex issue, but I’m glad that this experience has made me aware of it, and I will be paying much more attention to it in the future.

Midnight Musings

When I was a kid, whenever I was going through a time that was confusing and I didn’t know who to believe, I had this fantasy that someone (usually an all-knowing and nurturing God-like figure) would find me and explain everything to me. God would tell me why groups of good and reasonable people would flatly contradict each other and insist that their side was the only right side. God would also explain to me why I was experiencing this confusion and what I would learn from it. Finally, God would tell me what the right side was, and I would choose that and I wouldn’t have to second-guess my choice because I would know, without a doubt, that it was right.

Albert Camus is quoted as saying, “The need to be right is the sign of a vulgar mind.”

One of the things that I’ve had trouble getting over is the fact that there is no God-figure that is going to appear and explain everything to me. I’m going to have to make my own decisions, based on the information that I have. Sometimes I am going to make the right decision. Other times I am going to be completely wrong. Sometimes I’ll never know for sure.

And that’s okay. That’s another thing I’ve had trouble understanding—I don’t always have to be right. It’s okay for me to be wrong. I am allowed to change my mind. The only way that I truly could be wrong would be to cling desperately and inflexibly to something that is unreasonable or untrue and insist that it is right. As long as I’m willing to learn from my mistakes, I’m allowed to screw up royally.

And yet I still need to be right, which often leaves me feeling confused instead of right. When I need to be right, there’s a lot of pressure on me to make a decision. And once I make that decision, my focus tends to be on proving to myself that I did make the right decision. But this really isn’t the best mindset to have.

I’ve found that when I just relax, tell myself that I’m making the best decision that I can make, and that I am free to change my mind later, I feel less confused. I also tend to feel less worried about defending my choice and my ego. Ironically, when I don’t worry about making the right decision, the decision that I make tends to feel like the right one.

I don’t know if any of this makes any sense. If it doesn’t, I apologize. Happy 4th of July, everybody!