Granny Doc’s excellent diary and many of the incredible comments therein got me thinking this morning – this is not so much intended as a response to that diary, but as a corollary. Specifically, my own comments in the thread struck me, upon rereading it later, as something of a traditionalist statement; I very much value, based on that example, the idea of families gathering around the dinner table most evenings, discussing world events or daily difficulties or random, personal thoughts on life, the universe, and what kinds of new shoes they want next time. I’m also procrastinating a bit as I write this, as I’m due at a potluck this evening, and so am about to roll up my sleeves and get to cooking – I plan to make some hearty chowder and back some nice, dense and earthy loaves of bread this afternoon to go share with both friends and strangers this evening at a community function in a small library.
Here’s the thing, though. The library is a library focused on gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender resources at which my partner and I both volunteer; the tradition of the potluck is strong in lesbian culture, and was in fact half the point of the event. We conceptualized having a potluck as a result of a somewhat tipsy conversation about our respect for some of the lesbian culture that came before us: a joking but sincere conversation about potlucks, folk music, feminism and lesbian politics of old. The traditions we aim to value this evening are traditions that are considered anything but traditional by the bulk of the American mainstream mindset, in which lesbianism is hardly to be discussed even now, and certainly wasn’t an acceptable topic of conversation around that very dinner table that I profess to still value as a centerpiece for evenings spent in conversation with families.
And what of that word, "family"? Longstanding queer traditions use the term "family" as a reference to other queer folk – the reason being that historically, at those more "traditional" hearths, sons and daughters and brothers and aunts were not often welcomed in the past, based on their status as gay men, lesbians, bisexuals, or trannies. We had to invent our own new families wholesale, from a collection of queer friends all looking for connection, for closeness, for a group of people with which to develop a new set of traditions that didn’t exclude us or our friends. We’d all too often been rejected by our blood families, and so had to reinvent our own meanings for the word and the concept behind it.
I’ve come to think of "family" as a very broad term; I’m lucky enough that my actual blood relatives, unlike most of those in previous eras, accept me happily and without reservation. I’m also lucky enough to be "blessed", for lack of a better term, with a set of people in my life with whom I share no blood, but with whom I have another bond of common history and shared challenges, a family that spans many generations and of whom many are my friends and companions, my Queer community. I also have many, many straight friends who I’ve known for years, who have fought alongside me when I needed them to, who have enjoyed beers and laughter, and who are always, always welcome in my home. But when we utter the words "traditional family", this is not the family that is generally meant.
I’m famous for both verbal and written wandering, but I’ll try to get to the point.
I live a life that, to what I consider a reasonable standard, is very wholesome and based in respect for traditions and those who came before. I value many of the core ideals that have been valued by people for ages: family, community, communication, sharing. I enjoy gardening, and each summer I place a box on the sidewalk of surplus veggies for all neighbors to enjoy. I love knowing my neighbors, and I love knowing the guy who runs the corner store down the block. We all watch out for the neighborhood kids, and I love watching them try to increase the volumes of their hands as they collect their Halloween loot from us every October. I love the old guys at the local pub who hover at the bar playing dice.
I am also, in no way, a person for whom most "traditions" would be accepting: I’m a fierce feminist, I’m very queer (identifying as both a lesbian and as transgender), I’m a radical leftist, basically a socialist. I am unconcerned, really, with the current divorce rate or violence on television, I’m unafraid and unashamed of my sex life or that of others, I refuse to be told to respect authority on any grounds other than those based on which it earns my respect. I fight for gender justice, I believe not just in racial equality but in all people’s right and need for pride in their own history and in their community. I stand for change to our political system, to make it more fair for those who seldom get a fair shake. I believe that our conceptualization of the world is perpetually changing with our context, and that we have to adapt our ideas and our core selves to meet the perpetually coming difficulties. I’m no fan of saving concepts or categories just because they’ve always been so.
Fundamentally, I have no desire to go back to what I consider to be ultimately flawed "older times" – too often, those old traditions are viewed through a lens that minimizes their many flaws, the many ways in which people have been oppressed, shut down, or excluded. While my own experience on this comes from my Queer identity, there are a great many other people and other experiences in which this same, I’m sure, rings true.
We all chose the set of traditions we will carry through our families, the basic ideals that we hold dear. We can never let ourselves be drawn into the backward, but rather we have to choose, as individuals, what values from the past we consider worthwhile in our moving context; how to adapt those ideals to remain relevant as we correct their flaws, how to best use them or reject them in the face of current challenges and changes. We have to pick and chose, always. There’s a place we need to get to, somewhere between cherishing the good things from history, and correcting its many wrongs.
So what about y’all? What traditions from your family or community have you carried forward? What do you think of when you think about family? And what from before you do you hope will be passed on to your children, if you have them, or to the next generation as a whole?