Predominant stereotypes of butch women are that we work with our hands, have callouses, and wear steel-toe boots. But there’s an image of butchness that is rarely seen or even recognized: the butch intellectual, writes Adrienne ‘Aj’ Davis.
It took me a long time to decide what to say about being a black butch woman. A great deal has already been said, rivers of ink have flowed and countless electrons sent whizzing around the internet, in the name of defining and illustrating what it is to be butch.
However, there’s an image of butchness that is rarely seen or even recognized: What of the butch intellectual?
The TV host, Rachel Maddow, is really the first acknowledged butch intellectual I’ve ever seen. The TV host, Rachel Maddow, is really the first acknowledged butch intellectual I’ve ever seen. Leslie Feinberg, whatever other appellations might crown her [sic] in glory, isn’t referred to as an intellectual.
Butches are known to be many things; we all carry an image of a butch in all her glory but among those images, I’d wager that very few of them are of a woman sitting at a desk eagerly figuring out some arcana of Linux or Apple Script or lying on a couch, some copious tome on evolutionary biology or string theory in her hands. Yet, we do exist.
I know we do because I am one.
(A quick note on pronouns: I am a woman-identified butch and so will use the pronouns I feel comfortable with. These should not be taken as any commentary on how others identify).
I am black, I am butch, and I am an intellectual. I use the latter term in the classical sense of one who lives for the life of the mind and for ideas. I am happiest when I am either reading something that makes my brain hurt or engaging in a fast-paced discussion about politics or some arcane subject.
It took me a long time – over a decade – to become truly comfortable with this fact about myself. In part this is because there were (and still are) precious few depictions of butch intellectuals in lesbian literature or film.
We work with our hands, we shower after work, we have callouses and steel-toe boots. What we don’t have are jobs where we sit and do mental work all day. For some odd reason, that is supposed to be the province of femmes.
Yet, here I sit, at a desk where I don’t ever touch anything other than my keyboard and mouse. My tools are all electronic. The muscles I use are mostly in my head and hands. That I am a black butch means that I am even more of a strange attractor.
Regardless of what we might think of it, much of being ‘butch’ gets framed within the context of embracing masculinity.
Unfortunately for some of us, this embrace comes along with the baggage ‘real men’ aren’t thinkers. For whatever reasons, we have internalized the idea that to be a ‘real butch’ means that one is a body-person not a head-person.
Yet, here is something we embrace for no good reason that I see. Since we butches already transgress gender rules, we have purchased the freedom to embrace or reject whatever typical gender traits we wish. Why, then, should we reject one of the more pernicious myths of masculinity – namely that to be strong is to be a doer not a thinker.
Now, some of this is obviously class-based and, of course, class is a mine-field at least as fraught with peril as race.
I am not working-class nor do I come from a working-class background. The times I have been poor in my life, it has been because of youth or bad decision-making, not because it was the way I grew up.
The image of butchness that most lesbians would recognize as such is working-class. One could make a fair argument that being an intellectual or an academic is a luxury for the middle-class and that’s okay as far as it goes.
However, the truth of the statement does not change, in any substantive way, that middle-class butches do exist. We are doctors, professors, lawyers, accountants and so on. I cannot make an even half-decent approximation of a working-class butch and I would not insult my sisters and brothers who genuinely are from the working class by trying to appropriate something that does not belong to me.
This leaves me with the task of being my own role model, carving out my own space. That task can be difficult and frustrating at times but I have also experienced it as liberating.
The frustration has come from the friction of other lesbians’ expectations of me as a black butch and my own; I am not supposed to be from where I am from, not supposed to love the things I do nor am I supposed to aspire to be a black, butch, Carl Sagan.
Yet, here I am, with a background that I not only cannot change but wouldn’t change. Here I stand, wanting to fill the void left when Sagan shuffled off this mortal coil.
In writing this, I am reminded of Sojourner Truth’s speech ‘Ain’t I a woman?’ In closing, and with apologies to the sister’s memory, my question isn’t ‘Ain’t I a woman?. Bathroom incidents notwithstanding, that question is settled.
Rather, the question is ‘Ain’t I a butch?’
Ain’t I a butch? I can get out there and work with the best of them. Work myself until my bones hurt. Yet, in my work-a-day life all of my heavy lifting is done with my brain. My hands are for typing or gesturing or fidgeting while I digest the contours of whatever knotty problem I am hacking on. Ain’t I a butch?
I can put on my butch cock and give my lady exactly what she needs to sing for me. Yet I don’t identify as a guy, a Daddy, or a fella. Ain’t I a butch?
My cycle is pedal powered, not motorized. Ain’t I a butch?
You’re more likely to find me in the library than on the softball field. Ain’t I a butch?
I cry whenever I see The Color Purple and it gets to the point where Shug reconciles with her father. I weep during that scene. Ain’t I a butch?
I live for the life of the mind. Ain’t I a butch?
I’m as comfortable in a Brooks Brothers suit as I am in jeans and a tee-shirt. Ain’t I a butch?
Adrienne ‘Aj’ Davis is a middle-aged, African-American butch living in the great Pacific Northwest. In her two decades out of the closet, she has been an HIV/AIDS educator, a science reporter, a system administrator and a technology educator. She is now pursuing a degree in bioinformatics/computational biology with aspirations of a life spent in academia.
She lives in Portland, Oregon with her wife, Jaime and their three cats; Willow the Princess, Cerridwen the Goddess and Liam the Wonder-Ninja, Panther kitty.
Adrienne is the co-chair and board member of the Butch Voices conference held annually in the US. Regional conferences will be held in New York (25 September), Portland, Oregon (2 October), and Los Angeles (8-10 October). Visit the website for details.
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written by Lou Rob, 19 September 2010
written by lizzie(greeneyedfem), 30 August 2010
Granted, Halberstam is just one person. I think you're dead right that butch identity is almost always associated with a working-class background or occupation, and that that is tied up with expectations of masculinity and what "men do." Jax also makes a good point above about how it's only been recently that non-blue-collar work has opened up to butch women.
And for butches of color, it's even further complicated/aggravated by expectations of the kind of work that men of color do. But echoing others here, I do know non-femme women in academia and white-collar work -- so you are not alone. Hopefully the spaces for butch women to do all kinds of work will continue to expand.
Thanks for the article.
written by Sam, 24 August 2010
written by Galatea, 21 August 2010
When you respond to an inaccurate box by creating an accurate one, you're still boxing yourself off - and excluding someone else.
written by laprofe63, 20 August 2010
It's truly a wonder to behold, a woman who can exert her butch-self in the world of the mind, both on paper and in person.
written by Rusty, 19 August 2010
written by Tee*, 18 August 2010
We as a community ned to understand we are diverse as the Rainbow we use to identify our community! Thank you for educating! It's needed!! Regards,
Tee*
written by Doctor Mayhem, 17 August 2010
written by Les, 17 August 2010
Being butch is merely a look, a masculine image that I play with and subvert at work and play. Looking butch comes up against that minefield of butch attitude . What is this? I have never found out and gave up the search pretty quick when I realised just how silencing and objectifying this has been for for me. I love the butch look in all its varieties, but will resist the association that suggests you butch therefore you are simple, sexist , uninformed and only physical. I am not the strong, silent type .And will run like the wind from femme, butch, non -iding friends colleagues and lovers who resent intellect. Being butch is attire for me plain and simple. I have worked mostly in the not for profit community sector. I am a socialist and community and trade union activist . Like you work involves using more writing, researching , planning, campaigning and using mental energy to effect social change. Being butch at employed work is still problematic because it encounters a straight look at a politically conscious, masculine black "mouthy" lesbian and all the conscious and unconscious associations that goes with that. I think the Machine is still scared of this .
written by Les, 17 August 2010
written by Emma, 17 August 2010
Outside of the work/study arena they're about. I meet them and mingle, mostly on the queer scene in London - writers, thinkers, photographers, activists, film makers. Doers as well as intellectuals. The new career path that i've picked i'm very much hoping will be dotted with them.
written by Jax, 17 August 2010
Traditionally the intellectual work spaces haven't been accepting of women or butches, and since butches didn't fit into traditional female work places that left the manual labor type jobs. Now that companies value diversity and judge more workers on their merits and not their looks it's easier to be a butch intellectual. In my two jobs after grad school my gender identity hasn't been an issue, which is a pleasant surprise. I learned long ago not to let others dictate who I was, and that included being smart. I hope this article helps some folks who hadn't questioned the idea that they couldn't be an intellectual. Sometimes all it takes is one person to see things differently. It'd be nice to not be such a minority at work too. :-)
