World Pride: Contaminating You With Asexiness

I feel like I should talk about World Pride (which took place in London last weekend), but it seems like words are failing me.  It was just awesome, simple as that.  The feel was pretty different from San Francisco Pride, although not necessarily in a good or bad way.  Due to budget issues, all floats had been cancelled, and so every group was on foot.  The asexuals n' friends got jumbled up with roller derby people on skates, as well as a transgender support group.  Someone behind me was yelling, "Trannies forever! Trannies for life!" for the entire parade (you go girl!).  But I like that smaller groups didn't get drowned out so easily by the huge floats (although we might have almost drowned in the sporadic bursts of rain).  It also seemed like fewer people came as spectators.  I was handing out flyers for the majority of the march, and got the feeling that most of the people were of the "Oh, I was shopping at H&M and just decided to come and look at this pride parade" type.  However this made the crowd remarkably more sober, and I saw many more people (compared to SF) actually reading and considering our literature.  Some people's faces had looks of confusion and even disgust.  I heard a few comments to "keep away from the asexuals!" as if our orientation was contagious (oh come on, it's pride, we're all recruiting!).  But as usual, others seemed genuinely interested and curious.

[Image: Aces gearing up to march in the parade.  You can see our lovely banner and placards.]

So, y'all, I just met a whole bunch of really nice, welcoming, and just plain awesome and asexy people.  It never fails to amaze me how with so many aces, I feel like I can tell them some hella personal shit (as we might say back here in NorCal), even if I don't know them very well at all.  I found myself sitting around a table with a couple of aces, telling them something I had never said to anyone before in my life, and feeling totally comfortable.  There was a moment when a bunch of us were attempting to "go out" on a Saturday night, and we ended up in front of a crowded club with loud music.  We were all tired after a long day, and started making numerous excuses about how we were hungry, sore, wanting to sit, etc.  It struck me as really funny because it was stereotypically asexual, but in that moment, I just felt so much affection for those people.  Because it's not a group where folks are trying to "be cool" or pressuring others to do so.  I've felt that with asexuals here in the US, and across the world, it didn't change.  

(Also, I've wondered why asexuals in the UK seem more interested and/or successful in "hooking up" romantically with each other than many in the US.  Well, they do have their meetups in a place that sells pints for 2 pounds.  And those bad boys are potent, let me tell you.  Now, maybe alcohol is not the only reason, and maybe my perceptions are off.  But I don't think I've ever been hugged by more people in a single night than I was in that pub!)

Maybe words didn't fail me after all.  There's more to tell, but for now, this will have to do.

Occupy Isolation!

The Occupy movement gets addressed from a lot of angles, but the one most relevant to this blog is community-building. I sort of wanted to get involved with Occupy, but the groups in bigger nearby cities seemed really overwhelming. The prospect of being smooshed in a huge crowd of strangers made me feel too unsafe. So, idly, I searched for "Occupy [my town]" online, and found that we were actually having a meeting. I was truly surprised, because this is a small, boring, apolitical, relatively conservative suburban town. Since then I've become pretty involved with our small occupation, even though we only meet for a couple of hours each week. And at this point, the most notable result of our occupation has been a burgeoning sense of local community.

I'm not saying that everyone in the group is my new BFF, or that we're all going to get along 100% of the time (that's not what community is, anyway). Nor do I know what this occupation is going to look like a few months from now. But the fact remains: This is the first time, in the 3 years I've lived here, that I've ever experienced community in my town. Through Occupy, I'm able to sit down with a group of people who were strangers to me in October, and work with them to try and change things for the better. I've met neighbors, and around town, I've ran into people that I know. This is a big deal, because it's something that I doubted would ever happen. I've always felt very isolated here, like the world was happening outside my town, and I was missing most of it. Occupy gives me some hope that this is not the case. If we can create community here, of all places, then maybe change is truly possible.

Although there is that asexual issue...up next.

(And last, here is some utterly shameless self-promotion for my zine, because it's been a while. If you're ever thinking, "Well, I'd sure like to hear what Ily has to say on some non-asexual topics", here's your chance. It's both serious and funny, like this blog tries to be.)

Arts & Crafts Minute with Ily

As you may know, some folks have adopted a black ring, worn on the middle finger of the right hand, as an asexual symbol. As far as visibility goes, it's pretty ineffectual. But, I think it could be powerful to look down and remember that you're part of an asexual community, especially when so many of us rarely interact with other aces in meatspace. The black ring was one of those things that I would wear if I already had it, but I didn't feel like running out and buying one, since I already have a bunch of rings I rarely wear. So I managed to come up with a solution that was free, took under five minutes to make, and avoids some of the issues with metal rings (like getting the perfect size). I present the t-shirt ring tutorial.

First, find a scrap of black t-shirt material. If you don't have some lying around, you can cut the sleeves off a black tee from your closet or a thrift store. (I suggest the sleeves because then you'll still have a wearable shirt.) Figure out what side of the material you want to be the outward-facing side. T-shirt material rolls up, and if you put the rolls on the outside, your ring will have a nice 3-D effect. Remember to sew on the "wrong" side of your fabric, because you will be turning the ring inside-out later.



Steps shown in the picture:

1. Cut out a small strip of fabric that is slightly longer than the circumference of your finger. This is as scientific as we're getting here.
2. Wrap the fabric around your finger and when you get a good fit, pin the two ends together.
   
3. Take out the pin and sew over the area, either by hand or with a machine. It doesn't need to be perfect. I sewed mine crookedly with white thread and the finished product still looked fine!
   
4. Cut off the ends and turn the ring inside-out. You could iron the ends flat, but as I wore the ring, the ends got pressed down flat anyway.
   

Here's the finished product:


The only problem with a fabric ring is that it'll get soggy if you wash your hands with it on. But the stretchy material will help accommodate finger size fluctuations (don't tell me I'm the only person who has that), and if it gets lost, who cares? From one t-shirt sleeve you could make at least 20 more.

Asexual Community Report Card

This post is an attempt to tie these recent posts together with an evaluation of asexual community (or lack thereof). First of all, is there an asexual community? Ask different asexuals and you're bound to get different answers. I would say, "yes and no". We have an online community that is growing, even though so many people are still unaware of asexuality. The online community allows asexuals from around the world to easily communicate, which should not be underestimated. Is an online community a "real" community? I think so-- while communities need a "meeting place", it doesn't necessarily have to be a meatspace one.

But while we're using terms broadly, we also have to think about communities providing "diverse places for diverse people". And I don't think a community that exists solely online can accomplish that. It's too easy for people to lose interest in online communities after they've found answers to their personal questions, or when "real life" gets in the way. And the anonymity of the web can make it hard for people to feel really invested in each other. What I think would be ideal is a thriving internet community as well as a thriving offline community that are intertwined.

What would an offline asexual community even look like? It would vary regionally, but here's one idea: At a meetup, one person told me that she wished a group of asexuals would meet every Friday night in a local pub, and she could stop by if she wanted. I think a setup like that would provide a lot more asexual community than our area currently has. And I can see it actually happening someday. At different times when I've met asexuals in person, I've had those really exhilarating conversations that to me, exemplify the feeling of community. On some level, I think we can throw bulleted lists out the window and say we know community when we feel it. I've felt it in the company of asexuals, no doubt. But as brief, isolated incidents. Maybe that's the nature of those sorts of incidents, but I wonder if we couldn't increase them, and make them available to more people. No matter how a community is structured, I think it's something as amorphous as a feeling that might keep people coming back.

While bridging from an online community to an online/meatspace hybrid won't be easy, hanging out with asexuals online has shown me that our group possesses qualities that will serve us well in community-building. If you don't mind a return to the bulleted list, I think that not all of us, but enough of us, have shared purposes as asexuals. The gay and lesbian communities have proved that hanging out with other folks of your orientation can be personally fulfilling, and I don't know why the asexual community would be any different in that regard. So far, it looks like asexuals are doing pretty well at not enforcing conformity. I really hope this doesn't change. And I've found asexuals, both on AVEN and at meetups, to be a relatively welcoming bunch.

So those are some things we've got going for us. (I guess this is a report card from a hippie school.) Now for the obstacles. I think for the most part, they're exactly the same as the obstacles to any other community. But I want to advance a theory that community, on some level, is a numbers game. You need a concentrated population, which is proof that Death and Life of Great American Cities has thoroughly infected my brain (in a good way). Especially when you're talking about a group that could be 1% of the population at the least. Say you want 10 asexuals to meet in that pub every Friday. You can't just find 10 asexuals and call it a night, since in all likelihood, 9 of them won't be interested. I've noticed the same thing when it comes to having "regulars" who come to most meetups. For every regular, there are at least 10 people who will show up once, and never again. Not to mention all the people who might think about going to the meetups, but never go at all. In most places, we just don't have the asexual population density yet. To achieve that, we'd need to get to a point where more people in a given area are aware of their asexuality. And getting there is going to take a lot of patience and visibility work. I know that's fairly obvious, but hopefully it wasn't painfully so.

And this concludes my little series on community. You survived! Did I leave anything important out?

Obstacles to Community

Ooh, I've been looking forward to writing this post! Not because it's a happy topic, but because there's just a ton of depth to it. I think there are two main obstacles to community (that encompass a lot) and then further ones that are easier to surmount, but still problematic. I won't go over every one of the "further" obstacles (you probably wouldn't want me to, anyway), but I chose two that I have personal experience with. Want elaboration on anything? Comment on, commenters.

Big Obstacle #1: Current cultural ideas/values.

When I talk about culture, I can only really speak for American culture. However, American cultural ideas haven't stayed here but have been exported all over the world. One idea that I've written about a lot is that marriage-type relationships are portrayed as an ultimate source of fulfillment, the goal for everyone, and the solution to all our problems. There's also the idea that rather than citizens, we are "consumers" and that the other solution to our problems is to buy more stuff. Related to consumerism is what I call "the cult of busyness". It's almost seen as "cool" to be too busy to function. Katherine Gibson writes, "We've become time warriors. With '24/7' as our battle cry and armed with e-everything, we thrust and parry on a time-stressed, overworked battlefield". I think that's a pretty accurate description. Americans are chronically overworked and we experience the toxic stress to go with it. So who has time for community? These values create the second major obstacle:

Big Obstacle #2: Knowledge, Ability, and Interest.

Some people will never be interested in community, no matter what. But I think there are a far greater number who might be very interested indeed, they are just unaware of the benefits of community, what it is, what it could be, or all of those. It's like some sport or food or fashion statement that I haven't heard of yet: If it's outside my realm of knowledge, how do I even know to be curious? There's also the idea that building community is too hard, takes too much time, involves skills you don't have, or that it should just be done by someone else. Or maybe there's the notion that community is some relic of a bygone time. I think these assumptions, fears, and points of ignorance are the places where the biggest changes can be made. Talking about community-related issues, like I try to do on this blog, may not seem like much. But I'd like to think it helps to break down this particular obstacle. And when enough people get over this obstacle, I think that some of our harmful cultural ideas will start to crumble as well.

Now, for one of those secondary obstacles: Rampant Relocation. I chose this because it relates to my personal experience-- I've lived in 8 different towns by the age of 25. And I don't think this is unusual. Relocation has advantages along with disadvantages. While it can be hard to build community when people are missing their old homes or dreaming of the next one, sometimes transplants to an area are the most amenable to new forms of community. That new-person advantage was my experience in San Francisco. However, I didn't even make the 3-year mark there. Financial, employment, and personal issues forced me to leave the city. And even though I only moved an hour away, I found it pretty much impossible to maintain the community that I was just starting to find there. Relocation is far from a lone issue-- it touches on the shortage of affordable housing in cities, and the volatility of the job market, among other things.

Bad Urban/Town Planning can be overcome, but it's damn annoying. While it's always been a pet peeve, it's on my mind even more lately, since I'm reading The Death and Life of Great American Cities, which is all about urban planning failures. As an example, take a neighborhood I lived in during my high school years. I lived in a townhouse complex. And this is what bordered it:

• More townhouses, behind high walls
• A busy road that might have had one crosswalk on a half-mile long stretch
• A huge, abandoned industrial park
• Other houses, again, behind a wall
• Gas stations and car dealerships

Are we having fun yet? There was nothing in the area that might compel people to leave their houses on foot, meaning that local human interactions were extremely minimal. Nothing about our surroundings suggested the possibility of community. And this is not a unique neighborhood. Included in this category is sprawl, bad or non-existent public transportation, and the spread of chain businesses that are not invested in their local areas. Like I said, this can all be overcome, but people will need to work a lot harder to create local communities in badly-planned areas. Oh, and guess what's going to be built in that old industrial park? More townhouses. Let me guess, they're probably going to be behind high walls. Potential community theme song?

Next up: How this all relates to the emergence of an asexual community. No, I didn't forget this was a blog about asexuality...

More Involved, More Determined

A little over a year ago, I did a series on historical BFFs (best friends forever!). One pair that I wrote about were Paul Cezanne (painter) and Emile Zola (writer). I had no reason to think I'd ever mention them again...this is a blog about asexuality, after all. But I recently went to an Impressionist painting exhibit where I saw this quote on the wall, and just knew I had to blog about it (Thanks to my mom for risking a stern talking-to in order to take a picture of it for me):

In 1869...Manet invited me to join him every evening in a cafe [Cafe Guerbois] in the Batignolles quarter, where he and his friends would gather and talk after leaving their ateliers. There I met Fantin-Latour, Cezanne, and Degas...the art critic Duranty, Emile Zola, who was then embarking on his literary career, as well as some others. I myself brought along Sisley, Bazille, and Renoir. Nothing was more interesting than our discussions, with their perpetual clash of opinions. They sharpened one's wits, encouraged frank and impartial inquiry, and provided enthusiasm that kept us going for weeks and weeks until our ideas took final shape. One always came away feeling more involved, more determined, and thinking more clearly and distinctly. (Claude Monet)

It sort of reminded me of this, the "Epicurean" living arrangement. But even more so, it reminded me of this-- my own dream of a personal "utopia" involving a community of creative types. Oddly enough, what impressed me even more than the assembled names was the fact that they all met daily in the same cafe. It sounds like a simple thing, maybe, but it seems so elusive to our 2010 world. Even if you exchanged "Batignolles quarter" with "Duluth" and the famous artists for amateurs, something about their meetings and the way they felt about them would have still touched me.

Their gatherings met many of my "pillars of community": A shared purpose, individual fulfillment (at least in Monet's view), commitment, a meeting place and exceedingly regular contact. And from the quote, it all seemed enjoyable. That exhilaration described by Monet is something that I've come to associate with community. I think a lot of people have gotten the idea that you can only feel that kind of excitement through romantic love, but I find that to be an overly narrow view, and an undersell of community.

We all know that attraction tends to happen spontaneously, whichever sorts of attraction you experience. But if you wanted to, say, get married, you'd have some idea of a strategy for that-- dating online or in meatspace, getting friends to set you up with their friends, going to places where your preferred gender congregates. But if you want community, there's not a lot of common wisdom on how to go about that. There are no rules. I don't think I'm capable of writing them, and I'm not even sure there should be any. But in this series that I'm sneaking on you folks, this nuts and bolts discussion of community, I want to at least talk strategy.

And because pop culture only gets you so far, here's my favorite painting from the exhibit:

"The Bridge at Maincy" by Cezanne. I wish I could walk into that painting and stand on the bridge for awhile. I feel similarly about this one, "Snow at Louveciennes" by Sisley:

I love those random little alleyways that you can find in some places. Sadly there aren't a lot of them in the suburbs.

Pillars of Community

This morning, I was reading something David Jay had written about his concept of Community-Based Intimacy. I've read and commented about CBI before, and written about community more generally so many times myself. But for some reason, it was today that I realized: When I say "community", I have no idea if other people are on the same page, a different page, or another book altogether. (This is a similar theme to the "Sexual Fluidity" post, I guess.)

There is no one definition of community, and I think that's great, actually. But a lot of things get called "communities" that may not really be all that communal, such as towns and neighborhoods (Most places I've lived, it seems like the predominant attitude among my neighbors is to pretend that none of the rest of us really exist). And some people may have never experienced a feeling of community at all, which would make it hard to identify. Community is as much a feeling as a concrete entity. And a community can be a thing that lasts only for a day. Communities don't have to be really strong and tight-knit for us to get something out of them. But if you did want to create a strong, long-lasting and positive community, it might look something like this:

A group that works towards a shared purpose while also providing fulfillment for individuals.

Like I said, this isn't a definition-- nothing in this post will be. It's my own personal idea of what community means, taken from life experience. Bear in mind that you and I could be in the exact same group of people, and while you may consider it a community, I may consider it something else entirely. At the end of the day, whether or not you feel that warm and fuzzy community spirit is really an individual thing. Now I'm going to hopefully not intimidate you much with a list of what I've found to be important aspects of community. Because how can I try to build it when I haven't given thought to what it actually entails?

1. Shared purpose (mentioned above) is really, really broad. It can be as basic as a group of friends who want to have fun together. What people want to gain from the community will vary, but if everyone has a vastly different purpose, I don't see the group lasting. (In previous time periods, the shared purpose might have been "survival".)
   
2. That a community needs to fulfill individuals was also mentioned above. If you give and give to a community but get nothing in return, you won't want to be a part of it.
3. Investment. Not everyone needs to be equally invested, but a community is not one person's project. "Commitment" is another way to put it.
   
4. In communities I've been a part of, what really made them seem communal and not like a random group of people was a welcoming attitude from the people who were already there. That's probably why my college sorority felt like a community rather than a secret society. It was also my experience with my Girl Scout group in high school. Even though I was from a different school than everyone else and no one knew me, they welcomed me. I'd dealt with a lot of mean girls, so that was one thing that made me really value that community.
5. I have never been part of a community that didn't have its own meeting place. Sometimes, the community can even be created by the place. When I lived in San Francisco, I met friends every week at this bar that served free pizza. The fact that we always met at the same place at the same time started to give me community-oriented feelings about this little group. The "meeting place" concept was taken to the extreme in my sorority, where we all lived together in our own section of the dorm.
6. I also have a hard time considering something a community if there is no regular contact. I feel like once a week is the minimum that I need to really start feeling like I'm in a community. It doesn't need to be a formal meeting, or a gathering of everyone in the whole community. There should be some flexibility for people who want to be in contact more often, and people who want to be in contact less. But in my opinion, for a community to really prosper, some members need to be at the meeting place (see #5) at least once a week.
7. A community should have no forced conformity. And people should be there only if they want to be. If your leaving is met with death threats, you're probably in a gang or a cult (which are some of the negative sides of people's desire for community).
   
8. Related to #7, larger or more "public" communities should provide different places for diverse people. An example of this is my high school's Organic Gardening Club, which was an important community for me during that time in my life. In high school, my social skills weren't yet good enough to really befriend any of the other people in the club. But just chatting with one or two other people while gardening made me feel a lot less alienated at school. If you want to make lasting friends, I think communities are ideal places to do that. But if you just want to maintain the garden and not talk to anyone, I think your contributions should be valued as well.
9. And related to #8, larger or more political communities should provide involvement at different levels as well as changing methods of involvement. There should be easy ways to jump in, as well as ways to increase your involvement. There should not be closed upper echelons. Also, people's involvement needs to be able to adapt to the rest of their lives. This is one problem with activist communities where the people involved face a lot of burnout.
10. I don't think communities necessarily contain "constantly changing relationships", as David puts it. But I do think it's inevitable that any community will contain a variety of relationships. Again, my sorority was the best example of this. Although we were all "sisters", there were a few people in the group, maybe 4 or 5, that were among my closest friends. There were others that I considered friends, although we were less close. And there were still others that I either didn't know very well, or didn't especially get along with.
11. Size doesn't matter. The Organic Gardening Club I mentioned had only two other active members that I can recall. But it was still an important community to me. Years later, the garden is still there.
12. More than just being personally fulfilling, being in a community needs to be enjoyable. It's hard to over-emphasize this. If it's not enjoyable, you might as well be at home reading some book that you want to read. Seriously, life is too short for communities that feel like grim tasks.

This might be a long list, but it's still partial. Growing up, I was always in very "formal" communities that were either related to some activity or part of a larger organization. At this time in my life, my challenge is to find other kinds of community that may not be as familiar to me, or look like communities I've known in the past. However, I also have to focus on my own development, and I'm not sure how exactly community fits into that. There are a lot of obstacles to community (so many that at times, it may not seem worth the effort) which I'd like to write about in some future post. I'd also like to write about the qualities of AVEN that bode well for a "real-world" asexual community in the future-- and what we might have to work on to get there. So stay tuned!

Big vs.Small

The meetup went well, although I totally forgot to take pictures, as I'd planned to do. Seven people attended, from all over the Bay Area. We played board games and chatted about a wide variety of topics. One thing I've realized from the past few larger meetups is that while I'm excited that we're getting more people interested, personally I have a better time at smaller meetups. Blasphemy? Don't get me wrong, I think the larger meetups are rewarding, and I do try to get as many people to attend as possible. But the smaller ones are a lot more fun for me. I guess I'd just rather talk more in depth with people, and that's only possible with fewer of them. I wanted to figure out a way to break into smaller groups for part of the time, but didn't know how to do that without making people feel like we were at a conference or something. Any ideas?

Anyway, I'm not really sure what to do with this revelation, except to explore the idea that in order for the local asexual community to really flourish, we need to foster a wide variety of interactions. We all know I have a zeal for meetups, but they are limited by their structure. I don't really get bored of meetups, especially now that they're so infrequent, but I can imagine how someone might. Since there are always new people that often don't return, it can be a lot of similar conversations over and over, and a lot of the time, those relationships end when that meetup does. So if people feel like they've "been there, done that" with the usual meetups, there's no real next level at this point. For me, I'm glad that I've been able to hang out with some of the folks from meetups outside of meetups. That's one possibility. Others will have to be taken on by other people, if it's really going to be a growing community and not just me, or anyone else, telling everyone else where and when to show up.

Meetups, Let Me Show You Them!

It's been way too long since I've done a meetup-related thread. They're bimonthly now, rotating around the Bay Area for the time being, and we've actually planned them out for the rest of 2010, which is awesome. The next one is coming up this Saturday, 2pm, at Crossroads Cafe in San Francisco. It's a cool location and it looks like we'll have a good turnout.

After that is...the Pride Parade! Again! Apparently I've really been slacking off when it comes to hyping it up, so I'm going to have to increase my efforts a little. It's on Sunday, June 27, and we'll be congregating in the morning somewhere near the Embarcadero BART station. Like last year, I'll be contacting people closer to the 27th with exact locations and times (since I don't know them yet, either). Last year, we all wore purple and that looked good. We also carried signs and had flyers and a banner. If anyone has an idea for some other visual or educational element we could incorporate, do tell. I'm usually a good brainstormer but I'm drawing a blank on this one. If you want to participate (and haven't told me as much yet), comment here or send me an e-mail at sanfranciscoemily [at] gmail [dot] com. Or you can PM me on AVEN (username= ily). I don't know if this is obvious or not, but non-asexual allies are welcome-- we had a good number of them last time.

So far I only have 9 or so people confirmed, and I really want to recruit at least three times that many people...

Whither Goeth the 70,000?

I was working on my little visibility posters, and I decided to make one that would state the asexual population of the Bay Area as a whole. I didn't realize that this large-ish region, helmed by the cities of San Franciso, San Jose and Oakland, actually consists of 7 million people, or, a low estimate of 70,000 asexuals. You might remember my musings about a hypothetical "asexual city". But what I realized is that you already live there, albeit on a technicality. Even if you live in an isolated town of 1,000 people, you still have enough asexuals for a soccer team. Rather than traveling elsewhere, a (relatively) easier proposition might be to uncover the hidden asexuals in your midst.

If you'll allow me to make a mind-reading attempt, you might be thinking, "But where are they?!" when faced with a number like 70,000 asexuals in one metro area. And I don't know. I think of what I might have had to do to find the other 13 asexuals at my college of 1400 people. And I have a feeling that no matter how much I shouted from the rooftops, the majority of the 13 would remain silent. I would make an idle speculation that a lot of asexuals know something about asexuality, but don't relate it to themselves. It's like the way that friends will tell a fat person "oh, you're not fat" because they see fat as being negative, not a neutral descriptor, and not something they'd want to associate with their friend. Likewise, I thought that maybe I wasn't asexual, since asexuals die alone and I wasn't planning on doing so. How I got over that hurdle of denial, I, again, don't know.

What I do know is that "feeling like the only one" doesn't always seem like a worthy focus of my efforts when there are people going through much more terrible things every day. But I think it's a start. Feeling like part of a group may not accomplish anything in and of itself, but it's a first step. If you're wary of the concept, I understand-- I have a strange and abiding fear of cults. Groupthink isn't good. But being a part of something (while maintaining your individuality) seems to be a feeling that undergirds all positive social change. And it's a feeling that I find is largely absent from this country. So I try to make it happen for asexuals, since we're always told to "work with what you have" and I have asexuality. Maybe it could lead to something bigger than asexuality alone, at least I hope so.

I remember watching a documentary called Before Stonewall that was about, as you can imagine, gay life in America before the Stonewall riots. Before the Kinsey reports came out, homosexuality was thought to be a rare thing. So, when Kinsey shared how many gay people there really were (and asexuals, but no one seemed to care), it was really empowering for the gay population. Even if it was just to know that out of every 10 people you passed on the street, one was gay like you. So yes, we need a more accurate study of our numbers. But even 1% is not as small a number as it seems to be. So where is the 70,000? I look forward to your thoughts...

[Edited for errant zeroes...]

My Own Not-So-Private Utopia

"Yet one of the things that gets in the way of that struggle is the ingrained belief that our deep needs for loving community are actually aberrations and holdovers from childhood fantasies or immature yearnings for utopia that the mature individual will eventually overcome (175)."
--Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness

When I read that, I did a double-take-- I felt like I was reading something out of my own journal. I've longed to feel a sense of community for as long as I can remember, and my interest in community-building is the main motivator behind my activities in the asexoverse. I know I'm not alone-- that most people, sexual or asexual, yearn for community too, even if they can't name the feeling (this is what Lerner writes, as well). However, it's not something that's usually spoken of. This is something I wrote in my journal on April 1st, 2006:

Ever since I read that article on Manchester in the 80's, I've been thinking about how cool it would be to be part of a minor cultural renaissance. Find my own Manchester to put on the map, you know? Living in a random town somewhere with a small group of artsy people, I'd record my friend's band, maybe play some keyboards on it, the people living next door would do the cover art and we'd sell it at the record store down the street. We'd get picked up by a small label, become a cult classic, spawn a few imitators and never be filthy rich. And of course we'd still meet at the pizza shop or whatever local place we've been frequenting since the beginning. I have no idea if this sort of life exists exists or is even possible, but if it did, I think I would be satisfied with it...I think...that what I really want is to be a part of a movement, or at least feel like a part of one. Even if it was auxiliary, or I didn't accomplish much, or I didn't realize it at the time, I guess I've always been a part of something...until now. And I wish I didn't care, but I do.

When I wrote this, I was almost about to graduate from college, and knew little of the world outside of school. I had no idea what the future might hold for me. Looking back, this entry strikes me as something that might look strange to someone who wasn't me and also a bit sad. Strange, because even though this was a vision of my future, it contained no details about where I lived, what job I had, if I was still single or not, or any of those details. Sad because I hardly wanted to rule the world. I just wanted to record an album that some people liked, a relatively minor thing, but I still had "no idea if this sort of life exists or is even possible". Even so, I gave voice to something that was a big dream for me. Today, it almost frightens me to think too much of that dream, and it definitely feels like a faraway utopia; I don't know how to connect the life I want and the life I have. Is that everyone's issue?

I know this post probably seems even more depressing than the last one, but Lerner's whole point is that this stuff shouldn't be. It should give us some hope, maybe, that other people feel the same things we do, even if those things are rarely mentioned and beaten down in our culture. Apparently, our desire for community is part of a "human essence" that even the most powerful forces can't take away. At any rate, I'm a very "solutions-focused" person and I know that my dream will never have any chance of manifesting if I keep it a secret. Sure, the chances may not be good for it now, but they're zero if I never tell anyone about it.

(Also, I did ask for "awkward" and not "highly disturbing" depictions of sex. However, I have to declare Gatto the winner of this challenge. Thanks for being a longtime reader, oh feline one. If you dare, check the original post for his winning comment.)

I Think We're Alone Now

One thing I learned from being asexual is that you're not the only one. No matter what it is, you're not alone in it. Since I realized this, I've been able to be more open (for better or worse) about how I feel and what I experience, because I know that someone, somewhere (if not the person I'm directly talking to) is just waiting for that subject to be shared.

But I also learned that you can still feel isolated even while you know you're not alone. After I realized I was asexual, I found many other groups of people that showed me I wasn't the only one. I found everyone from people who share my obscure learning disability to volunteer coordinators just as frustrated and neglected as I am. I found all these people through the internet, books, and in one case, a story from a third person: "Yeah, this guy I lived with graduated from your school, and sold used cars but hated it, so he quit and now he's been unemployed for a year...". It's interesting how at least in my experience, discovering these "people like me" is a big comfort in the beginning. But over time, as I rarely or never actually meet these people, it fades. Unless I do real-world, concrete stuff with them, their impact on my life (and presumably, mine on theirs) will become negligible with the passage of time.

It's easy to find people just like you online, sometimes in great numbers. But at least for me, these people have the least presence where I need them most-- in (what Douglas Rushkoff calls) "the former real world". As far as asexuality goes, I'm sure that comparatively, I see more asexuals in FRL than most. But am I committing some cardinal sin (like a sort of relationship-based gluttony) by saying, it's not enough? To me, seeing other asexuals is still a special, out of the ordinary experience. Can my asexuality ever seem totally normal and everyday as long as that remains the case?

Emotional Dump

Well, I can say one thing about planning Pride-- for the very first time, meetups seem super-easy!

Now, not to make you afraid to plan your own pride contingents. I really hope other people will take the reins in their own cities and march in their local pride events. SF is the biggest and, therefore, the most annoying. I have a feeling other marches might be, well...cake in comparison to this behemoth. And if you do march in your town, I will be there, as long as it's somewhere in the US. I'm constantly in need of a vacation.

Anyway, I'm really biting my nails over the fact that we won't know our order in the parade until next week. People have to be poised and ready to recieve the information when it does come. I know from meetups that some percentage of people who say they'll be there won't actually be there. They'll forget, get lost, have to take their dog to the vet, or for whatever reason won't show. Since we only have 25 confirmed people (ONLY 25? Our biggest meetup ever was 11 people!), I want to make sure they're all there...or people will think there aren't that many asexual people!

The horror! I'm not sure why I'm so worried about people thinking this, because there really AREN'T that many asexual people. We're probably more than 1% of the population, but still, we're not exactly a seething, roaring tide. If people see 25 asexuals and allies at this parade, no, it's not exactly the galloping hordes, but at least they'll know we exist and that we're not, for example, plants. Small steps.

I definitely need to stuff my perfectionism in a box when I plan activities (preferably a box with a python in it). However, that's hard to do. Since it's our first time, there will invariably be mix-ups and confusions. I want to make sure that everyone has an awesome, memorable time. And I really do think that no matter what happens (sunburns, blisters, magic brownie casualties), it WILL be awesome, because we'll be together. Corny but true-- there are few things I like to see more than asexuals n' allies congregating in the real world.

Is the python done yet? At any rate, ahhh...I feel better. Start thinking of your poster/shirt slogans! Next Sunday, we rock the house.

"Throw Down an Ace!"

Meetup was today! 5 of us met at the Dolores Park Cafe. It was a relatively hot day for San Francisco, so we enjoyed the lemonade, smoothies, and enormous fan. We also managed to get "the big table", which is always an accomplishment for any group. I gave out the prizes I'd promised, which were "Ace" energy drinks, and we talked Pride Parade banner designs. Then, we had some action of the negative variety, where one of our bunch suffered a fall on the slippery floor and ended up with a sprain. Hoping to have better luck elsewhere, we went over to Dolores Park, where we found we were all "equally talented" at frisbee. Then we walked down Valencia Street and looked in the Good Vibrations store ("This would be a good thing to report on later.") We learned there is actually a vibrator that syncs to your iPod. We ended the day with Indian ice cream and more conversation, this time about such topics as college theses, polyamory, and travel. Apparently, Norway shuts down early.

See you all in June for Pride and related festivities!

For the Asexual (and Friends) About Town...

Our next San Francisco-area meetup is set for May 17th, Sunday, at 3pm. Our exciting locale will be the Dolores Park Cafe, which is in the Mission, close to the 16th Street/Mission BART station (corner of Dolores and 18th Street). It's also across the street from...you guessed it-- the popular Dolores Park. If people bring park stuff, we can frisbee and Nerf-football to our heart's content after we collect everyone. As usual, you can identify us by our mascot of a giant blue-green algae.

Also, I've thought about starting a blog or website just for our San Francisco AVEN chapter. I know, I know...I don't want to do any more blogs right now, and I don't have the expertise (my mad HTML skillz from 7th grade might not count) or time to make my own website...although I can forsee us having one in the future. So, I decided to make us a page on Twitter. I think this could be a good way to network with other nonprofits, who seem to jumping on Twitter, at least in this area. I don't quite understand its mass appeal myself, but I'll be trying to update often with interesting information. Check us out here and follow us if you're on Twitter also.

One more thing...AVEN turns 8 on May 29th. And for an organization that started on the internet, 8 years is nothing to sneeze at. Some cool AVENites are putting a podcast together in which people are going to be submitting short audio clips about what AVEN means to them. Of course, I looooove creating media, so I'll definitely be participating in this project. Find out how you can do the same here; the deadline for submissions is May 20th.

We're just two people that like warm roles.

As you may know, I have the honor of being the leader of San Francisco's chapter of AVEN. For quite some time, I wasn't sure how a "chapter", in our case, was any different from what we were already doing. But then, about two weeks ago, I went to a program called "Social Action Bootcamp". It was a little strange, but I did come away with at least one interesting conclusion-- the difference between a chapter and a group of people.

I think the difference is roles. In a chapter, people need roles, titles, and some description of what they do. I'm learning the same thing in my "day job" as a volunteer coordinator. Apparently, if you can't put the job on a business card, no one wants it. And I certainly can't blame people for that. In a large group, there would be a few "officers" and many regular members. But in a group as small as ours, it would be ideal for most active members to have some sort of defined role. It doesn't have to be something major-- any defined role (such as "the E-mail Czar sends reminder e-mails to people about meetups a week before they happen") would be a good start. Here, I'll brainstorm some roles that AVEN chapters might be able to use. I'll start with myself:

• Head of Local Chapter: This is the hardest role to define, probably because I've already technically been doing it. I feel like this person should organize the rest of the "officers", plan official meetings, and figure out the direction of the group (with input from others, of course). What else?

These roles are what I see as the "Big 3":

• Public Relations: Dealing with the media-- writing press releases, keeping up press contacts, writing articles, making sure we do stuff that people would be interested in writing about.
  
• Community Outreach: Dealing with other community groups and finding ways to reach more potential members.
  
• Fundraising and Special Events: Pretty self-explanatory.

If you want to add something fancy like "Emperor" or "Guru" to these titles, I think that would be great. This is all supposed to be somewhat fun and enjoyable, after all. Don't forget that, now!

Of course there would be other roles, too, of varying levels. The possibilities are really endless. They're only limited right now by my imagination and impending carpal tunnel syndrome.

I know that some of us, myself included, have wished that AVEN could be our full-time job. Maybe that will happen someday, but we can't be a more official organization unless people have roles. That seems to be the beginning and end of it. So, at the risk of over-using a word, if you could have any role, in AVEN internationally or in a local chapter, what would it be? Let your imagination run wilder than mine seems to be capable of at the moment.

(Also, you get a virtual brownie if you know what the title of this post is a reference to.)

Pride is Go!

I just finished registering for the SF Pride Parade. (Okay, I didn't finish registering, as there is a "checklist" of forms and things I have to complete...but I paid a fee, and that's what matters, right?) So here you have it: History will officially be made. The only question now is, will you be there when it happens? I met with DJ yesterday and we estimated how many fine folks might be joining us in the parade. I was glad to discover that it's realistic to say we'll have 50 people, if a number of asexuals bring a few allies. Have I emphasized that we'll have lots of allies marching with us? So if you're worried about being outed, don't be...there will be enough friends of asexuals in the group to keep our individual orientations somewhat mysterious. And you don't need to go through a special training or anything to be an ally. If you're down with the A-Team, that's all you need. I'd like to think most of us know at least one person who might fit that description.

It's happening! I'm excited! Anyone want to get on that corporate sponsorship with The Purple Store? (They have a bumper sticker that says, "Anything purple is mine. Everything else can be dyed or painted." Whoa.) Just kidding...

Cold Pie, Warm Heart

It wasn't cake, but it was close: We enjoyed much pie at our March 1st meetup at Mission Pie. Six intrepid souls braved the rain. The venue was a good one: Close to BART, cozy, and with a big enough table for us to comfortably share. We talked Pride Parade themes (there will be purple) and found out what the CIA does with their extra pens. See you all in May-- which will be planned much further in advance, if I get my way. Can't wait until May? Impromptu "unofficial" meetups are always welcome.

War is Over (If You Want It)

Shades of Gray recently wrote a really insightful post about the "GLBT" movment, its adherence to its acronym, and its lack of inclusiveness to bi and trans people, let alone more obscurely-oriented folks. It got me thinking, yet again, about how crucial it is that minorities stick together. Much better to all be queer together than to be separate, adversarial groups. I know that, for example, to be a gay person rejecting trans people in your movement is epically stupid in terms of not only human decency, but overall strategy. If it was just about rights alone (which some would argue), there would be no qualms about actively including queer groups who aren't fighting for their own legislation. Apparently, asexuals have tons of free time to devote to causes, what with all the sex we're not having. However, this idea of inclusion, which to me is intuitive, is Martian to some other folks. I realized today how exactly this idea got drummed into my head.

In the 7th and 8th grades, I attended the world's most grueling middle school. Every class (or year, or grade, for those in other countries) had only 20 kids. This created a perpetual hothouse of drama. There was a group of "popular kids", a group of female outcasts (including myself), and a group of male outcasts. The dominion of the popular kids was maintained by one thing: The fact that both groups of outcasts thought the other group was untouchable. If we girls had collaborated with the male outcasts instead of making fun of them, we would have had the numbers to achieve equality with the popular kids. Combined, we could have had the strength to fight back-- or to just ignore them. My one regret from that time in my life is not trying to make friends with those boys. Looking back, I'm sure they would have been truer friends to me than the girls were in the end. But of course, I didn't realize this until years later. I can only imagine how much better my 7th and 8th grade years would have been, had I known all this at the time.

This is a true story. But it's also an allegory. The stautus quo depends on the infighting of minorities. And queer people who reject other queer people are playing right into the staus quo's hands. They're doing the very thing their oppressors want them to do. I guess their middle school experiences were better than mine, and that must be nice for them. They might have better memories, but I think I got a better lesson. Although I wouldn't wish my experience on any child, I did learn something valuable.

Of course, some queer people want to be the status quo, just like some outcast kids want to be popular. Maybe that's one reason why straight people are usually the only group courted as gay allies. If it's because they're numerous, well, so are all the other miscellaneus queers, when taken as a group. As a kid, I didn't want to be popular-- I just wanted to be myself and be left alone. The idea that even as adults, so many people just want to be popular and well-liked at the expense of others? It makes me feel queasy. But I guess that even by middle school, my destiny in radical queerness was already confirmed. Just like the status-seeking of some of my classmates remains the same to this day. But I still believe, despite all evidence to the contrary, that maybe...if they really want it...people can change.

(Also, meetup on March 1st, which is fast approaching! But I'm not quite sure what to do with you guys...)

I Fear a Parade! Tra La La!

Last year, I wanted to plan on having a booth at the San Francisco Pride parade n' celebration. But, seeing as this would cost something like $500, I had to give up on those plans. This year, I want to plan on us marching in the parade. But this idea isn't without its issues...

I'm always in conflict as to how I talk about meetups and real-life asexual community. On the one hand, I don't want to show weakness, and I don't want people to think that community organizing is prohibitively hard. It's not that hard, although I sure don't make it look easy. But on the other hand, I do want to show weakness, because then people will know that anyone can organize community, even if they, like me, cannot plan their way out of a paper bag.

This post might fall into the second category. Often, I seem to have ideas that sound amazing at the time, but later, I wonder what I was thinking. This is definitely where I am when it comes to marching at SF pride. I know that a major point of our march will be to show how many asexuals and allies there really are. (That is, if it even registers with most people seeing our group go by who we are and what we're about.) I also know that getting a critical mass of participants will be a very difficult push up until the end. The result will be a really glorious meetup. But if the point is education and visibility, I think we could do that more efficiently through other channels. (Totally unsexy channels, to be sure.) Marching would be a historic moment that would definitely stand out in the events of my life, and maybe all of our lives. I'm ready, but does that matter?

Currently, my job (the thing I get sort of paid to do) revolves around planning a volunteer program. I was warned that if my first volunteers aren't wonderful and do a great job, the program will be set back and no one will want to cooperate with me in the future. I feel like our first really big activity will have to be wonderful and do a great job, too. But that's a lot of pressure!

My fear is that people will plan on coming, but then we'll realize we only have something like 15 people participating. I don't want to cancel the effort, because then I'll feel like an idiot. But I'll feel like an even bigger idiot if only a handful of people show up on the day of. The idea of telling interested parties that we wouldn't actually be marching makes my pulse speed up in a bad way. But if people don't come out of the woodwork to drink excellent chai in a cafe, will they come out to march in a parade? Somehow, I doubt it. And I don't think people understand that we need solid RSVPs now in order to go forward with this project. Now that I've achieved my goal of 10 people at a meetup, I want to escalate my efforts. Is marching the best way to do that? Or should it be more like getting 12 people at a meetup?

I await your comments, enlightened ones...