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Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Double Take on Civil Unions

Keeping It Queer
By Erica Chu

Double Take on Civil Unions

Because of the tremendous efforts of activist organizations and concerned citizens, civil unions are finally going to be available for same-sex couples in Illinois.  This is great news, but there are also other sides to the story.  Below I’ve listed three of the big reasons we should celebrate the passing of the civil unions bill followed by some thoughts on what else we might consider as we move forward.

1. The passing of the civil unions bill is a sign that social attitudes are changing.  It’s only been 7 years since gay sex has been legal nationwide.  Since then, the nation has undergone a major change in its attitudes toward gays and lesbians.  Passing laws that protect same-sex couples in the same way different-sex couples are protected sends a message to American society that such unfairness is unacceptable.

Of course the era of equality and tranquility will not arrive when the new law takes effect.  It’s easy to assume all of Illinois is progressive when we’re in our accepting work environments, when we eat and shop in neighborhoods like Andersonville and Lakeview, or when our families have become more supportive over the years.  Yet not everyone is surrounded by such affirmation. 

Though progress is surely on the way, even with civil unions, it’s not here yet.  We have to keep coming out and staying proud, protesting bigotry wherever we find it, challenging ignorance even among those we love, and we must keep giving to organizations that work to support our most vulnerable LGBTQAI members.  Social attitudes are changing, but not everyone experiences relative freedom.  We have to keep working to benefit our entire community.

2. People can now benefit from the rights and privileges civil unions ensure.  For many couples, civil unions will allow families to make medical and legal decisions as well as share benefits and property more easily, more reliably, and with less expense.  On the one hand, I’m happy this method is now available.  It’s simply unfair that different-sex couples have this process available to them while others don’t. 

On the other hand, if I want my sister to make all my medical decisions or a close friend to be in charge of my assets should I become incapacitated, I’d have to hire a lawyer, pay a lot of fees, and keep my documents up to date.  If our friend MJ were to move in with T and I, she couldn’t be added to my health insurance plan no matter what I pay a lawyer, and why not?  The government is only interested in my romantic relationships (only one at a time at that), and my relationship is a central factor in my ability to obtain medical coverage, to share or leave property, and to designate who should make decisions for me.

Should the right to decent healthcare be determined by relationship status? Why should the government favor one kind of family structure over others?  Shouldn’t a wide variety of kinship structures be valued?  It’s inconvenient that legal protections cost so much and are so difficult to obtain, but why should romantically involved couples (gay or straight) have access to a major advantage while others aren’t?  A much fairer system would value the individual no matter what kinship structure is chosen.

3. Civil unions are a step toward full equality.  Civil unions are not recognized in all other states or by the federal government, but as more and more states work toward civil unions and ultimately civil marriage, the chances for federal recognition and protection increase. 

Marriage is a useful pathway to justice, but it’s my hope that the fight for gay marriage causes state and federal governments to lose interest in the romantic relationships of their citizens.  Non-traditional familial structures in all their diversity should have the same access to legal benefits as straight couples.  State and federal governments should focus on the individual’s ability to easily, inexpensively, and reliably make and share decisions about their life and property with whomever they choose—regardless of romantic relationships.

As many among us look forward to planning our civil union ceremonies, let’s remember that just because we might taste a bit of justice, these new laws don't actually benefit all.  Equality would allow all citizens the same rights no matter what sexual orientation, kinship structure, or chosen life.  Let’s keep taking step after step because the road to justice is long indeed.


Erica Chu is a student at Loyola University Chicago and is seeking a PhD in English with a concentration in Women Studies and Gender Studies.  She manages the blog keepingitqueer.blogspot.com and can be reached at ericachu@msn.com.

Of Cereal Boxes and Kinship

Keeping It Queer
By Erica Chu

Of Cereal Boxes and Kinship

My last article spoke about dealing with families during the holiday season, and now might be a good opportunity to raise the issue of kinship—especially the queer variety. 

We’re used to the idea of family—our parents, siblings, grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts, and all the rest—but family can certainly extend beyond the biological or legal.  These traditional structures are the families that get pasted onto billboards and into television shows, movies, and commercials.  Even cereal comes in “family sized” boxes.  As ridiculous as such a marketing tool is (buying in bulk doesn’t have to say anything about your kinship structures!), I think a cereal box is a good image for understanding what family and kinship are and can be.

I recently bought a “family size” box of Cheerios.  I normally eat a bowl every morning, but my partner T helps herself to a handful or two every now and then.  The box is still sitting in my cupboard half-full, and I wonder who will consume the rest of it.  Maybe MJ will come over, maybe Jack, and if they’re hungry, I’ll offer them whatever I have.  When Isis stays over, she’ll certainly have some.  These folks are part of my life, and it’s easy to share my life with them—cereal included.  Even though I would share cereal with my parents, sisters, or cousins, I probably won’t since they aren’t often nearby. 

A “family-sized” box of cereal is just as likely to be eaten by a husband, a wife, and their kids as it is to be eaten by T, me, and our friends.  I’m also more likely to share my cereal with friends than with biological family.  In the same way, kinship is a complex structure that is more than just the images of family that society encourages us to accept. 

We in the LGBTQAI community have become accustomed to stories of family estrangement and the need for chosen family.  We plug ourselves into social networks, political and service organizations, and community groups, but do we ever really consider these friends our family?  If we really stop to consider who is important and why, we may discover that our kinship structures are a lot more complex than we thought.

Romantic relationships are similarly complex.  Socially, we’ve been taught to accept a husband and a wife as normal.  We fight to have same-sex relationships recognized, but are we guilty of being less accepting of other kinship structures?  A mom, dad, and some kids are a family.  So two dads or two moms and some kids are a family too.  But what about two moms and a dad, or two dads and a mom?  What about single parents, variantly gendered parents, couples who don’t have or want children?  What about individuals who are permanently single?  What about polyamorous configurations in all their diversity? 

The lesson we should learn from the difficulty in gaining recognition for same-sex couples is that kinship is as diverse as the people who comprise them, and the structures that work for some do not necessarily work for others. 

Perhaps “family” will never lose its biological and legal context, but there is a certain warmth in the word.  I hope you cherish your kinship relationships in whatever form they come.  I hope too we do more than tolerate alternative structures and affirm them just as we wish ours to be affirmed.


Erica Chu is a student at Loyola University Chicago and is seeking a PhD in English with a concentration in Women Studies and Gender Studies.  She manages the blog keepingitqueer.blogspot.com and can be reached at ericachu@msn.com.

Dealing with Family and Keeping Sane over the Holidays

Keeping It Queer
By Erica Chu


Dealing with Family and Keeping Sane over the Holidays

It may not seem like it quite yet, but the holidays are quickly approaching: Christmas music is playing in stores, Starbucks has red wintery cups, and our coveted vacation days are fast approaching.  Whatever holidays we observe, his time of year is supposed to be happy and wonderful, but more often then not, it ends up too busy and extremely stressful.  Holiday pressure only becomes more complicated when we have to consider our families and the expectations they have for us. 

Happiness seems far away when all we want is acceptance, but for many of us LGBTQAIs, mothers cry, fathers disapprove, siblings say terrible things, and grandmothers refuse to talk about it.  Family gatherings are often pressure-filled opportunities for us to feel strange, unloved, and pushed back into a closet.  Sometimes there’s nothing you can do but bear it, but that means being good to yourself is all the more important.  To help us as we enter this holiday season, I have four reminders for we who scurry around trying to please family and keep sane.

Don’t be afraid to say no.  My grandma never liked Christmas, and when my uncle died one December, Christmas became even more difficult for her.  For the sake of children and grandchildren, she has bravely endured the holidays year after year, but I know she’d rather skip the whole thing and stay home reading a book.  I admire her devotion, but at some point, you’ve got to just say no.

Sometimes, you just can’t not show up for the holiday gathering, but don’t let your feelings get swept under the rug.  Every year, people try to get my grandma interested in shopping, watching holiday specials, or cooking special foods, but she says no.  She brought a ten-dollar bill for each kid, a frozen apple pie, and her books, so we leave her in peace to read.  Like her, you may need to make room for yourself in the social systems your family creates.  So tell your mom you’re bringing your boyfriend for dinner.  Tell your dad you’re playing by his rules this year, but next year will be different.  Tell your nieces and nephews you love them dearly, but you hate the sugar cookie tradition and this year you’re bringing Oreos.

Savor time with your chosen family. Many in my family disapprove of “my lifestyle,” and when I’m with them, I feel out of sorts and not myself.  When my chosen family gets together though, whether at a restaurant or someone’s house, I feel just fine.  We love each other, support each other, sometimes get on each other’s nerves, but mostly just enjoy each other’s company.  Because these relationships are so fun and often easy, when it gets busy we tend to push them down on our priority lists, but even when you have more social obligations than time, remember your chosen family.  You need them just as much as they need you.

Be nice to your given family.
  When family is unsupportive or just plain stubborn, we wish we could just forget them.  I think it’s worth considering whether or not your birth family should play a significant role in your current life, but no matter what you do, remember to be kind.  Make decisions that are good for you and fair to them, but even when your family is dead wrong, the pain they feel is very real.  Demonstrating kindness during difficult times is never the wrong move.

Give where it makes a difference.  Be good to yourself, make decisions that are good for your mental health (and your credit score!), but remember there are a lot of people suffering in this city.  It’s good to be reminded what they’re going through and help where you can.  Your aunt may never come around to appreciating what you have to offer, so trying to impress her with your green bean casserole may just be a frustrating waste.  The folks down at North Shore Housing and Support Services, however, would love a good casserole.  When you use your resources to serve those who actually appreciate it, everyone wins.

You deserve sanity (and happiness too).  The holidays are hard, and family even harder, but be good to yourself, and you’ll make it through.  You might even find a little happiness along the way.


Erica Chu is a student at Loyola University Chicago and is seeking a PhD in English with a concentration in Women Studies and Gender Studies.  She manages the blog keepingitqueer.blogspot.com and can be reached at ericachu@msn.com.

Community (Not the TV Show)

Keeping It Queer
By Erica Chu


Community (Not the TV Show)

The past few months I’ve been in hiding.  Several major projects have been demanding my attention, but locking myself away from the eyes of people I know has also been rather empowering because it’s freed me to consider myself and my possibilities apart from the people I’m usually close to.  It may seem like a sad and cold existence, but there are times in every person’s life when solitude is useful, comforting, and empowering.

It is comforting, and as much as I’ve tried to make use of these months alone, lately I’ve been reminded how important being a part of a community is even if my immersion in it only happens in waves. 

I saw a friend yesterday, a person I love dearly but hadn’t seen in a while.  He was struggling, and I reached out to him.  I’m not silly enough to think I solved any of his problems, but opening ourselves up to each other and sharing hugs between tears  meant something—to him and to me—and it means something still.  We both left somehow changed even if it was all confusing.

It’s hard to figure out exactly what that moment meant, and the general meaning of community is similarly elusive.  All I know is there are hurting people in every social circles we navigate through each day, and it’s a damn shame if we regularly hide from those with whom we could form real bonds. 

I love the term “fellowship.”  It makes me hungry actually because in my growing up years, fellowship meant there would be food.  The truth of the matter is that when there’s food, people tend to let their guards down, let go of their private thoughts, and start acting like family.  Fellowship can even be a kind of meal: we feed each other with our words and our support.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting we all go out into the world trying to feed everyone with our great wisdom and experience.  We may indeed have something to share, but when I sat down with my friend the yesterday, I felt community most intensely when I wasn’t saying a word.  I felt incredibly close to him when my mouth was shut and when my whole heart and body was in tune with what he was saying and feeling.  His pain was heavy, and by sharing it with him for just a moment, I felt its weight.

Community is not just a fun television show, and fellowship is not always a carefree meal.  Both require a willingness to suffer, a commitment to learn, and an acceptance of ambiguity.  I will never know what it means to feel the pain my friend is feeling, and to presume I know would only hurt him more.  Being in community means opening ourselves up to learning what it’s like to be in someone else’s shoes and feeling their pain with them. 

Of course it also means celebrating the good things and trying to find solutions for the bad, but it seems the most ignored aspects of being in community are the moments we let go of our self interests and focus on the joys and pain that someone else is feeling.

We can also extend this discussion to larger groups.  For example, when gay men on the north side of Chicago spend time among themselves, they gain a sense of comfort and empowerment, but if they were to consistently isolate themselves from other groups, they would lose the potential for being in community with lesbians, bisexual men and women, queer and trans people, and the whole spectrum of LGBTQAI identities, ethnicities, abilities, and backgrounds. 

Queer homeless youth in Boystown are harassed by police on a regular basis.  You don’t have to be homeless, trans, or 16 to feel something with these young people or to find and listen to their stories.  You may not know what it all means, but feeling sorry for them only further separates you from them.  Being in community means listening to them, feeling their joys and pain with them, and struggling with what it all means.

Whether you sit over coffee comforting a friend or sit at your computer reading about the experiences of homeless youth, community is a powerful thing.  It’s sometimes heavy, but even though I puzzle over its meaning, I guarantee community is transformational.


Erica Chu is a student at Loyola University Chicago and is seeking a PhD in English with a concentration in Women Studies and Gender Studies.  She manages the blog keepingitqueer.blogspot.com and can be reached at ericachu@msn.com.