It only took me about three months to finally get around to writing that post about asexual visibility and anonymity… Maybe I can try to speed it up a little for my thoughts on the need for a strong organization actively dedicated to asexuality outreach and education. Something bigger than a one-person volunteer effort and something more organized than random forum-goers saying “Let’s meet at the local coffeehouse on Tuesday”.
The Elevator Speech
You have 30 seconds to explain asexuality to someone so they’ll get the general idea. They may be asexual themselves and not know it, they may know someone who could be asexual, or they may not even care. They don’t need the definitions, they don’t need the distinctions, they don’t need the details, they just need enough of the concept that they’ll seek out more information if they want more.
Go.
(in)Visibility Activist
(Cross-posted at AsexualityArchive.com: http://www.asexualityarchive.com/invisibility-activist/)
I’m still afraid.
Every day, I wear a black-gray-white-purple bracelet. I have an ace flag bumper sticker on my car. I have a magnetic black ring on my cabinet at work. I have a little asexuality lapel pin that I keep on my camera lanyard. I like to consider myself openly asexual.
Hell, I literally wrote the book on asexuality.
But I’m afraid.
I’m worried that one day, someone will ask me about one of those things. “What’s that bracelet about?” “What’s that ring for?” “What’s the flag mean?” The bracelet typically gets hidden by my watch, so it’s not very prominent. The flag pin on my camera lanyard is only seen when I’m using my camera, and I typically only use my camera when I’m on vacation a thousand miles from anyone I know. On the rare day that I’ve actually worn the ring, I end up hiding it. It’s like everyone is staring at it. I know they aren’t, that no one even notices, but that doesn’t help. I fidget with it, I hide it, I start using my left hand to point at things. It feels like I’m wearing a giant flashing neon sign on my finger.
I met a new coworker the other day as I was leaving the office. We made small talk about the company as we took the elevator down to the parking garage. She got off on the same floor as I did. She walked the same direction as I did. She kept the casual conversation going as we walked. It quickly became clear that she had parked near me and would see my car. I became filled with dread.
“What if she asks about the flag?”
I feel like I’m a visibility activist in the witness protection program.
Mostly, I guess I just feel that it isn’t anybody’s business but my own. I’m a natural recluse and don’t really like sharing personal details with others. I don’t even talk to people about the music I like, so why on earth would I want to talk to them about my sexual orientation? Asexuality has very little to do with my day job as a software engineer. It’s just not relevant, so why should I bring it up?
But what would I say, anyway? If someone asks about my bracelet or my bumper sticker, they’re probably just making casual small talk. Talking about my sexual orientation isn’t idle chit-chat with a stranger in the elevator, that’s a thermonuclear TMI bomb. How am I supposed to explain what it’s about in less than ten seconds, without confusing the person or making them feel uncomfortable? What’s the best way to approach asexuality education and outreach in a context where that education is unexpected and potentially unwanted?
Maybe I’m simply not suited to one-on-one outreach. I’m much more comfortable when I have hours, if not days, to think about what I want to say and have the opportunity to edit, tweak, and fine tune my message for as long as I feel is necessary.
None of you know who I am. I never use my name, I rarely give any kind of personal details. I’ve been completely unable to form any kind of meaningful connection with any of you. I prefer to be anonymous. I prefer to do my work behind the scenes. All of the posts on this site are attributed to the website itself. So’s my book. There’s no me here. Just a nameless, faceless website.
And that’s a problem.
Someone wrote to me about my book once and remarked that their parents are skeptical of asexuality because everyone who talks about it seems “unofficial”. We mostly hide behind Internet handles and anonymous 60 pixel square images. There are only a handful of asexuality activists who use names, and it’s a good bet that some of them are pseudonyms. Reporters ask if you’ll go on the record with your real name. If you don’t, you’re ashamed of who you are. If you do, you’re relentlessly attacked by the Internet Troll Machine.
It feels like many of us are trying to spread visibility while staying invisible. I don’t think it works that way. How do we fix that?
And Now Harvard…
Hot on the heels of WSU, it looks like Harvard’s set up an asexuality resource page:
http://osl.fas.harvard.edu/icb/icb.do?keyword=k65178&pageid=icb.page577857
WSU Page on Asexuality
Apparently Wazzu’s put up a resource page on Asexuality. Just popped up on my referrers list.
http://thecenter.wsu.edu/resource-pages/asexuality/
So, uh, go Cougs! Or whatever.
(Now, how come Western doesn’t seem to have one…?)
Expanded Availability for Asexuality: A Brief Introduction
You can now get the paperback copy of Asexuality: A Brief Introduction from a wider variety of book sellers.
Powells | Elliot Bay Book Co. | Barnes & Noble | Alibiris | Books A Million
Or try your local indie bookstore at: Indie Bound
You can probably have almost any bookstore do a special order. The ISBN is 9781477428085.
(And, of course, you can still get it from Amazon [Paperback | Kindle], and you can still download the entire PDF for free from AsexualityArchive.com.)
Check it out!
At 2:09 in this video, a giant pile of asexuality books!
…And Then What? : An Ace’s Misadventures in Dating
It was the first day of the ninth grade. A new girl was in a bunch of my classes. She had a funny name and long red hair. Over that year, I found that she was smart, quirky, and had a dangerously sarcastic personality that matched my own. She could play the piano and the cello. She was going to grow up to become a doctor who would save the world.
People said we’d be perfect for each other.
This post was written for the December 2012 Carnival of Aces topic of “Dating and Significant Others as an Ace”.
