How important is it to society to promote a philosophical ideology that gender is ambiguous, or troubled? Reading Sloop’s book, Disciplining Gender, one might have the impression that it is extremely important, and that those who attempt to define themselves as existing within a specific gender category are selling out to the establishment. Even with the expanded societal acceptance of non-traditional gender categories, Sloop suggests that the mere identification of one’s self within a category, traditional, or otherwise, reiterates and reinforces the existence of categories. Only by resisting categorization, he posits, do we create a space where gender is allowed to become more fluid; where it can be viewed on a continuum rather than as discrete entities. He argues that society conditions us to expect categories, so we discipline each other to conform to categories, even if those categories are in and of themselves non-conforming.
For instance, in the chapter on k.d. lang, Sloop argued that in her early years (before she came “out”) she was “far more troubling” than later; that she “moves from troubling gender, sexuality, and genre categories . . . to reaffirming generic and gender categories” (p. 102). He suggested that she moved from the troubling approach due to a need for society to define her. He even hinted that as a result of her decision to identify as butch she was rewarded by society in the form of better musical contracts, more fan support, and greater monetary reward, because she finally fit into some norm that society was willing to accommodate.
But is this the only explanation that can be rendered for k. d. lang’s increased success? I would argue that an alternative process might be at work that is of equal importance—if not to society, certainly to the individual. That is the notion of identity. This notion is hinted at in one of lang’s comments about coming out. She described her move as freeing because it “eliminated a lot of tension. . . . It’s really a fantastic feeling. I highly recommend to anybody in this situation to live in the truth” (p. 96).
In order to understand lang’s position better, I watched several videos of her, both prior to her coming out—the period Sloop argues is far more troubling—and after. I noticed a significant difference in these pre- and post- performances. She seemed more comfortable with herself after she decided to come out. Everything about her music seemed to fit together, from style of dress to style of music. I could see the difference she described. She appeared to have found her personal identity, and was living at ease within the construction she had claimed.
On the other hand, other individuals described within Sloop’s book had difficulty finding a sense of personal identity within a societal-described category. Societal discipline around sexual preferences collided with societal discipline around violent behavior and for two individuals, their exploration of the boundaries describing options for identity resulted in death. So, is this really where Sloop is going with all this rhetoric about creating space for troubling gender? That we need to provide a wider range of options for individuals who can’t find a sense of their personal identity within existing options?
One of the most significant courses I have taken thus far in my doctoral program spent a significant portion of time on theories of student development, which in large part focus on how students sort out a sense of personal identity. These theories are subsets of the broader field of human development, which also includes identity as a major factor of development. I would propose that what our feminist rhetoric is “all about” ultimately, is this search for identity. For lang, finding and claiming her identity was important to her for her personal development. An alternative reading of the other case studies could also make the same claim.
Where does this get us with the notion of troubling societal gender categories? I think it recognizes that many traditional categories give many people fits, even if they aren’t specifically questioning sexual orientation. For instance, as I grew up, the expected activities for a female my age weren’t what I wanted to do. I didn’t like playing with dolls or dressing in pink. I was good at math and science, and could take almost anything apart and put it back together again.
When I got into college, I rebelled at the notion that I was attending to get my MRS. degree. I suggested that in my church's Young Women’s and Relief Society instruction, we should prepare our girls and women for roles other than wife and motherhood, because the reality was that many girls and women would grow up and choose alternate paths. We shouldn’t be so short-sighted that we fail to acknowledge the legitimacy and normality of alternate paths, because the search for one’s place in the world—one’s identity—is important for people. Thus, if troubling a gender category is what is necessary to provide people with alternatives in order to find identity, I can see where there is value in pushing those limits.
However, as I read Sloop’s (2004) arguments of how culture disciplines gender, and drives rhetoric around sexual identity, I didn’t have a sense that he was working towards providing people with additional options for seeking identity. He seemed to argue that the important thing is the turbulence; that reducing turbulence is antithetical to the feminist movement. So, throughout the book, I couldn’t help but wonder how comfortable any person might feel living a life of “troubled gender” as proposed by Sloop. For me, it would leave me too troubled to feel human—to feel like I had any sense of purpose or direction—that I was just another animal—and that is what human development theorists say is the point of establishing identity in the first place—becoming human.
That leads me to wonder if discipline is the practice that makes us human. As we learn to control our thoughts and actions—as we discipline our own selves, we enter into a social contract with those around us, and we become part of humanity. Discipline, therefore, is not a bad thing. It helps us enter into relationships with others so that we can create bonds of understanding. If everything in life were always random, where would we find understanding? Sloop's examples of violent reprisal for gender non-conformance demonstrate what happens when too many life events are random. All discipline departs. Perhaps our categories are too narrow, and they need to be broader, but I can’t agree with Sloop’s final argument that we need more troubling without coming to a final sense of one’s place. Every person wants to find a home.
So, while Sloop talks about the implications of the “politics of ‘homes’” (p. 149) as if it is a bad thing, I am reminded of a song from Pippin entitled Corner of the Sky. Even as the main character explored the breadth of human experience, he always wanted to find his sense of identity—his personal place. It wasn't a societal push, it was an inner urge. I think for humankind this feeling is universal. While we may explore and push our boundaries, ultimately, the search is for a solid place where we can proclaim “This is Who I Am” to the world. We can finally declare, “I am human, and here is my home.”
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