Cracks.

One theme that the Alsultany, Martin, and Clare articles all share is the idea that none of these authors fit into a neat category, and therefore are often placed into categories that they don’t feel do justice to their true identity and what really matters. For Evelyn Alsultany, this is played out when strangers try to “pigeonhole” her into a racial category or easily digestible ethnic background. Lauren Martin experiences that same racial and ethnic pigeonholing, and also experiences gender and sexuality categorizing as well. Eli Clare experiences unwanted categorizing into brackets of sexuality, gender, and physical and cognitive ability.

My first reaction when I was reading the articles was this: I imagined that “we” (the people who don’t experience significant blurring of category lines) line people up on a giant sidewalk, and the people who fit into certain categories are placed on certain sidewalk squares, while the people who don’t fit neatly into a particular sidewalk square are forced to live in the cracks, or the interstices (“los intersticios”).

My father uses a wheelchair due to difficulty with AVM 20 years ago, and his soft pallet also droops, making him difficult to understand to people who aren't used to his voice. His speaking voice leads many people to the conclusion that he has cognitive disabilities, which is not true at all, and has been a major source of frustration for him and for the people who know and love him, especially because he has 2 PhDs and is extremely intelligent. But growing up in a gawker society is not easy for anyone. Even as the child of a person who uses a wheelchair, I still face the fear of being labeled as a gawker, because nobody is taught how to not gawk, or at least not seem like you’re gawking, or not be perceived as if you were gawking. Even though my father is not a huge fan of using a wheelchair, I still link wheelchairs with my love for my daddy, and summer days I spent riding on his lap in the park, and rollerblading while holding on to the back of his chair; because of these memories, I always feel the urge to smile when I see a person using a wheelchair, especially a young person around campus. But what’s not fair is that I could be perceived as gawking, or smiling out of pity, or smiling because I don’t want to be awkward, or smiling because I don’t want to just stare, or just look away. Growing up in a gawker society is not easy, even for those who seem to fit into neat categories: a white, straight, woman, not too ugly, not too fat, with socially acceptable goals and desires. Does that kind of person never live in the cracks, just because she seems to fit neatly into the cubbies? Are these categories into which I fit the most important part of my identity, or is it still something more important? Is it fair for me to ask these questions, considering that I don’t know what it’s like to live in the interstices? (Or do I?...)

Alsultany says on page 293, “When we’re not acknowledged as complex unitary subjects, we become caught in los intersticios, haciendo caras [making faces] to get by.” But my question is this: just because I don’t seem to live in the interstices, does that mean that I am acknowledged as a complex unitary subject? Who acknowledges these subjects? And what about the acknowledger? Is the acknowledger acknowledged as a complex unitary subject?

Clare asks in his article, “The gawkers never get it right, but what I want to know is this: Will you?” (224, 227). I want to say yes, because I understand – I am not gawked at, but I understand. But will you give me the chance to understand, and to prove that I do, or is any acknowledgement of difference automatically regarded as gawking? What can I possibly say or do that will be neither treating you have no differences, and treating you like your differences make you an untouchable “other”? Where is that middle ground, and how can we help people find it?

People discussed in Clare's article that I had to look up:
Brandon Teena
Billy Tipton