On being gay...and poor

On Friday, during a conversation at work, discussion diverted to queer migrants. An acquaintance of the person I was talking to is a Brazilian gay man who left Brazil and is living in Ireland. He left Brazil to get away because of his sexuality. I was told his mother does not know he's gay and when I half-jokingly said that mummies have a tendency to 'detect' .. the reply was "you know, they're coming from a poor background, I doubt she'd know anything about these things".

Acknowledging the fact that I am not aware of any findings which show that parents have a higher tendency to detect their offspring's sexuality, I was struck by the association of sexuality with money. Presumably referring to sexuality, "these things" become loaded with class, race and political ideologies.

In other words, being gay for this person (and many others like her) means a cool, well-off, classy gay man flashing his pink pound around town. According to these ideas, knowing about homosexuality and anything 'gay' requires class and money. A woman in a village wouldn't know about "these things". I would go on and argue that the same sexuality is associated with the urban areas and cities and as Halberstam have discussed, the queer sexuality and gender is transported to the cosmopolitan life in the city. It becomes a complex topic of discussion, a policy issue to be dealt with and a right to fight for. Yet, in the rural area it becomes a nothingness with no history.

The mother mentioned above has been stripped of any knowledge she would have acquired throughout her life and her community/ies. She becomes a old woman in a developing country - no class, no education, no money, no power.

How about the Brazilian gay guy? Does he consciously disguise himself under the dominant Western idea of the cool gay guy? Or do WE bestow that idea on him, refusing to see beyond the outer skin?

research proposal

Since I've been thinking and attempting to work on my phd research proposal, I thought of using this space as a site for my thoughts, my work, other people's thoughts and works.

I am curious to look into the intersections of sexuality and migration. In particular I am interested to inquire into the impact of sexuality on migration, and vice versa. What can be learned and understood, by myself and others, from this multilayered exploration and analysis of my personal and professional experiences as a queer activist, researcher and migrant? How can this research promote understanding of the human experience and challenge and shift practices around such subjects as sexuality, citizenship, discrimination and migration? What are the shifts in citizenship upon being associated with migration and non-heteronormative sexualities?

I have thought about the ways to go about this and I'm sure that this will be changing as time goes by. The main areas I have planned to engage with in this research are migration, queer migrant narratives, citizenship and nationalism, assimilation, queer theory, identity construction and [dis]location. This proposed research will focus on mapping stories of queer migrants in Europe through mixed methodologies. My use of “queer migrants” here refers initially to those people who leave their “home/nation as a result of their sexuality” (Roque Ramirez, 2005), acknowledging the fact that the concept could be broadened to represent a diversity of experiences and understandings.

Having written this, I do hope to use this blog as a journal for the stream of thoughts and ideas...mine and yours.

this is where it all started...

I have finally crossed the line to start blogging. Been on my mind for a long time but had (and still have) mixed feelings about it... But as anything else in life, unless I give it a try I can't say whether I like it or not, how it feels like to blog and whether blogging does change something in our lives..or not.

Since I was very young, I have started numerous diaries and journals. I would write few words, fill in a few pages and after a month or so, abandon it to seek other, or maybe to start another one anew. I have always thought of my diaries as incomplete, an unfinished work. But simultaneously my life was moving on, I was changing..so maybe the puzzle of diaries I have stored is a reflection of the puzzle of my life. It's incomplete and unfinished because it is going on, moulding constantly to the changes around me ... instilling a sense of mystery and grandeur...like any unfinished work of art.