Queer Phenomenology Essay

Ahmed claims that “Familiarity is what is, as it were, given, and which in being given ‘gives’ the body the capacity to be orientated in this way or in that. The question of orientation becomes, then, a question not only about how we ‘find our way’ but how we come to ‘feel at home’” (7). This is central to the experience of being mixed-race since although we may “feel at home” in certain spaces, the lack of those orientations around “mixed-raceness” causes us to constantly be disoriented. Ahmed herself noticed the pattern: “Wanting to be white for the mixed race child is about the lived experience of not being white even when whiteness is ‘at home’” (146). While disorientation is central to the mixed-race experience and clearly offers a new perspective on racism, this is not isolated to us. Ahmed oversimplified the possibility and the options of queering race, yet there is

another commonality that would have better fit her theory.
Instead of claiming that it was only through mixed orientation that there was a real possibility of gaining new perspectives on whiteness and racism, Ahmed instead should have looked slightly beyond her own experiences. It is actually through interracial interactions and the through being disoriented that any individual is able to queer race. For mixed-race individuals, including myself, this is an almost constant feeling, so we are able to regularly be the source of such developments. Yet, it must be pointed out that this experience is not limited to us. Whenever someone is “a minority” in a space, it allows for new perspectives to be seen and causes a feeling of disorientation. To remain on one’s racial line would generally consist of isolating yourself among people who are also on this line. Therefore, regardless of the race of the individual, by exposing yourself to other racial spaces, an individual begins to move away from their line and there is an opportunity to gain a new perspective. Not all exposure achieves this as imperialism shows, but in situations where one has regular exposure to other racial spaces and gains new perspectives, there is the possibility of removing oneself from one’s line. There will never be the real possibility of switching racial lines since so much of it depends on social perception, yet there will be the possibility of weakening the lines and the racism associated with them.
I recently attended “Backyard Hangout” in the Ninth Ward to see Tank and the Bangas perform. I had never that far East, and as I drove past the location I could physically feel how nervous I was. Inspired by a Facebook event, I had clearly miscalculated every part of this. I was dressed a bit too risqué. I put a bit too much effort in. But I tried to convince myself that I belonged. The presence of a couple of my friends, two of the handful of black women that I’ve befriended in New Orleans, alleviated a bit of my anxiety. Only truly accepting that society failed to see me as White a few months before, I tried to “feel at home” in a culture I had adamantly avoided for over a decade. As we walked up to a worn shotgun home, I can only describe that moment as disorienting. I’m used to Northeastern cities and their pristine middle-class neighborhoods filled with polished and white populations. While I had attempted to reconnect with my heritage, I had not actually emerged myself into a “Black space” since coming to New Orleans. The few opportunities I had previously had were either avoided or evaded with sudden, convenient plans. But that night, all I noticed was how disoriented I was in this space.
We found a space sitting on someone’s back steps. It was the only spot still available, yet the family who lived there came in and out all evening. Beaming black boys would jump off the side of the top step causing me to worry even more, but also to reflect on my own childhood. It appeared that the event was actually an open-mic for the first two hours and that all of it was going to be streamed on the radio. My friend was resistantly the first to read her piece, and actually hearing the words of a black woman about a black woman seemed revolutionary to me. As the night progressed, more performers came and went: slam poets, singers, entire bands, and countless others. I’m not sure at what point, but I finally started feeling at home after I had heard the fish or sixth black woman speak. Each one spoke of rage and pain that I had felt, yet failed to have someone say back to me. They spoke of mental illness and abusive relationships, moving on and finally healing.
Although I may not have felt like I was home at the start of the night, by the end I was consumed with a sense of belonging I hadn't felt in weeks. Now although I may not have stuck out, I was nonetheless in a space that was not my own. A black space was not somewhere I had felt oriented in since I was a child. That night in the backyard of Tank’s uncle I was not the only person who must have felt disoriented. Within the crowd, there was a scattering of white men and women. I looked to their faces when I first arrived, and my disoriented state was clearly present for at least some of them as well. But by the time Tank and the Bangas finally got on the stage, we were all standing, dancing and singing along. I think that Ahmed claim that white people cannot become black is true, but it is moments like this that convince me that they can stray from their own lines.
Queering race and sexuality through phenomenology offers not only a clear depiction of how the world operates but also a tangible solution for how to overcome the performative nature of both.

Ahmed’s book, Queer Phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others, is a remarkably fresh analysis of these issues. Deeply rooted in her own experiences as a queer mixed-race woman of color, she is able to include a wide range of identities within her one theory. She is able to resist lines because she is not allowed to be on them, and from this unique perspective she offers an approach that is substantial. Not only is she establishing what the problems are, but she also attempts to solve them as well. Although she fails to see the variety of possible solutions for queering race, her proposals nonetheless are inclusive in their application to all individuals. The push for intersectional, or in Ahmed’s case intersecting lines, has allowed feminist and queer theorists to finally allow their works to a wide-range of individuals. I greatly hope that this will only continue as the fields move

forward.