Before I begin, I wish to preface this article by stating that I support the dismantling of all institutionalized discrimination, and that every person should enjoy the fundamental liberties of egalitarian society.

The fight for equal rights for gay and lesbian persons has recently become centered on the topic of gay marriage. Doubtless, there are other topics that are also central to the gay rights agenda, but it seems that gay marriage is now the focal point, the core of a discursive center that is becoming less critical of itself and consequently, parochial and facile. The gay rights discourse is shifting in such a way that normative structures are in a position to become strengthened, not weakened.

This is not to say, however, that the marriage norm will not be transmuted to include members of the gay and lesbian communities. Given the recent progress of the gay rights movements with respect to gay marriage, it is certain that the institution of marriage will undergo some change; but the changes that are evolving, particularly those that have yet to evolve, may only further marginalize those who are left outside of the societal norm.

Sexuality has been defined so that it is already thought of in terms of marriage (within it or outside of it) and marriage is thought of as a—if not the—legitimizing praxis of sexuality. By embracing marriage as an instrument of sexual legitimacy, do we not categorize that which falls outside of it as sexually illegitimate? Within the framework of the current debate over gay marriage, those normal couples seeking to be married can be looking toward a time of future legitimacy, but the framework that is being used to fight for the right to marry, to be legitimized, is also working to eliminate the possibility that legitimacy could be conferred on other types sexual relationships (i.e., those which fall outside the normative two-person relationship). This elimination comes as a result of the narrow lens of the gay marriage movement, which is inherently constricting sexual options and deciding what will be included in the norm.

The gay rights movement has made a considerable effort in recent years to distance itself from that which falls in the realm of the sexually perverse, and to make it known that many of the same sex couples wishing to be married are no different than any other American family—they have children, help their neighbors, go to PTA meetings, are involved with their local religious center, and most certainly, they are people who do not flaunt their sexuality, nor is their exterior sexual image one that would be perceived as perverse (‘They are really just like you’). Moreover, they will argue that their sexuality does not define them—that they embody a more elevated gay identity, one purportedly not defined by sex.

Certainly, one will point out that flaunting sexuality and displaying perverse sexual traits brings shame to heterosexual couples as well—our society does not want hyper-sexualized displays. Of course, this is what marriage censures. In the normative sense, marriage bespeaks stability and is a social beacon, signaling that one has grown-up. Marriage is the structure that signifies that you are legitimate—you have put your hyper-sexualized self in the past and you are ready to be part of a mature society. The very nature of marriage then is to constrict sexual possibility and define what is sexually intelligible. Given the sexual stereotypes of promiscuity, perversion and deviance attached to gay and lesbian communities, it is doubtless that members of those communities are seeking marriage as the method by which to legitimize their relationships, not in the sense of simply wanting recognition of a loving partnership, but rather to signal to society that many in the gay and lesbian community are not sexually perverse.

The intention of the gay marriage movement is dubious. This movement is something that has, at its center, a conservative element that seeks to constrict the discourse of sexual intelligibility in order to indicate that “I am not like the rest of them,” and that “I want to lead a normal life.” Does this then signal a fracturing within the gay and lesbian communities? Is it an affront to the efforts of those who, using their sexualized selves, fought to achieve the level of open-mindedness these communities enjoy today? It is distressing to think that groups of people who have fought to secure a basic recognition of sexual possibility may now be foreclosed upon because some within wish to distance themselves from sexuality.

One may argue that I am absurd, that the gay marriage agenda certainly could not be malevolent, and that I have completely missed the point. However, I do recognize the conspicuous disenfranchisement that gay marriage urgently seeks to mitigate. Indeed, equality within the law is central to the objective of gay marriage, and I am not discounting the importance of those gains. However, these objectives (broadcasting an apparently innocuous and principled goal) are precisely that which obscure the issue of sexual foreclosure and that which has reduced the gay marriage movement to a most facile state. What is needed is a politics of marriage that includes a critical perspective, one that is mindful the consequences of its goals, which should incorporate more complex and inclusive ideas of sexuality—ideas that are less about being normal and more about being queer.

Women’s hair has long been a loaded concept. For the Victorians in particular, “it became an obsession. In painting and literature, as well as in their popular culture, they discovered in the image of women’s hair a variety of rich and complex meanings, ascribing to it powers both magical and symbolic,” explains historian Elizabeth Gitter. ¹ Contemporary shampoo and conditioner ads feature women swinging their voluminous locks in the camera frame, the ads’ narratives congratulating the brand on its thickening and smoothing qualities. The hair featured is luxurious and never short. We are meant to gather that hair is a coveted good, to still accept the Victorian standard—but only if it exists on the head.

Hair on women’s armpits and legs, which has the same density as scalp hair, is not admired for its thickness or smoothness, nor its luxurious softness, despite growing from the same genes. Hair is lovely and “magical,” but with the strict stipulation that it is only so on female’s heads. But who’s stipulation is this? Historians respond, “the norm itself was initially fostered by depilatory marketers, who saw that money was to be made from convincing women that body hair was a flaw.”² Through pervasive advertising and framing body hair removal as a necessity rather than a choice, razor companies have successfully make a physiologically arbitrary action a socially necessary habit: Approximately 85 percent to 90 percent of women have unwanted body hair.”³

One could easily argue that all beauty standards are, at their root, arbitrary. “’Beauty’ is a currency system like the gold standard,” writes Naomi Wolf in the The Beauty Myth. As evidenced from consumer culture, ‘beauty’ need not have an explicit reason to be classified as so. The reason shaving is significantly different from other American beauty standards, however, is that rather than requiring an additive action like applying make-up to one’s face, this beauty standard requires removing something natural from one’s body. It is thus one of the most problematic beauty aesthetics, in part because its derivatives are so overlooked. Christine Hope argues that hair removal is a subtle push to return women to a child-like body, “to consider women as less than adults.” This desire is “reflected in and reinforced by the custom of female hair removal and the advertising which accompanied its introduction.”⁴

American female body hair shaving was triggered by a “sustained marketing assault” that began first against armpit hair in 1915, when sleeveless dresses came into fashion ⁵. An ad in the May 1915 issue of the upper-class women’s magazine Harper’s Bazaar features a woman with her sleeveless arms flung into the air, exhibiting her hairless armpits. The ad reads: “Summer Dress and Modern Dancing combine to make necessary the removal of objectionable hair.”⁶ Seventy-two percent of the hair remover ads in Harper’s Bazaar from 1915 to 1919 specifically mention underarm hair ⁷, most mentioning only underarm hair. In 1918, ads began mentioning “limbs,” though legs were not mentioned by name until 1923.

Sears Roebuck stores began selling sheer-sleeved dresses in 1922 and not-so coincidentally, the first women’s razors showed up for sale in their fall 1922 catalogue⁸. Ads from the mid-20s typically put equal emphasis on underarm and leg hair removal. The World War II-era shortening of skirts further helped advertisers’ thrust for leg hair removal, and “[b]y the middle of the century, attention had been drawn to lower parts of the anatomy and a tanned, shapely, hairless leg was a thing of beauty,” Hope observes in her inventory of Harper’s and McCall’s magazines’ hair-removal ads . Body hair removal had become a norm, as well as a public discourse, as evidenced by the headline of one of the McCall’s ads in the early 1940s: “Let’s Look at Your Legs—Everyone Else Does.”¹⁰ Due to these marketing coups, female body hair removal has become a contemporary, largely unquestioned staple of fashion.

This hairless version of reality is so pervasive that it goes against evolutionary meaning, but we pay little attention to it because social norms of beauty are dependent on it, social norms derived directly from fiscal gain. Corporate gain is a direct result of classifying body hair as shameful. No matter how brightly colored the ads or how cheerily the model smile while holding a razor to their tanned leg, ads for razors at their most basic telling women there is something wrong with one of their natural functions: hair growth. “Advertising aimed at women works by lowering our self-esteem,” writes Wolf.¹¹ The bottom line of razor marketing is selling women a product by which they may change themselves.

Like deodorant, razor marketing “arouses the psychological fear of unpopularity and exorcises it by showing how you may avoid embarrassment,” wrote early advertising experts Doris E. Fleischman and Howard Walden Cutler. And just as deodorant is marketed as a hygienic necessity, female leg and armpit hair is symbolically unhygienic. Were the argument of shaving for cleanliness and personal hygiene truly valid, it would follow that both genders would engage in obligatory hair removal, as did the ancient Egyptians. In the last few years, there has been a rise of a hairless male aesthetic, like Versace models with clean-shaven faces and chests; but, with such high percentages of women shaving, it is clear that the hairless beauty standard applies to women of all classes, whereas male body hairlessness seems to be predominantly at a haute couture level.

Advertising campaigns like the recent Schick Quattro assault, subtly but deftly assert the razor’s right over the woman’s body. The most expansive and inventive section of the company’s website is titled, “Quattro® Lingo.” The Lingo contains 24 made-up definitions of shaving-related terms, some of the more benign ones including, “Bathtub Tinsel, noun. The ring of itty-bitty hairs and soap film left in the tub after a serious shave.” Others are more loaded, like “Chastity Pelt, noun. What you have on your legs when you intentionally go without shaving before a date as a way of making yourself behave” and “Girlilla Warfare, noun. Temporarily suspending shaving as a way of punishing your mate for something. Could backfire if you end up uncovering a newfound fetish.” The humor in both is dependent on the reader’s assumption that body hair on a woman is disgusting and would thus be a ‘punishment’ for your mate if you didn’t shave, or an incentive not to engage in sexual activity. Not shaving your body hair is self-punishing in regards to your sex life, these two in plainly imply. (Unless, of course your man has a hair “fetish,” the second term concedes; for liking body hair on a woman could only be a deviant “fetish.”)

The marketing campaign underscores femininity as the most basic reason to shave, asserting that a woman is anachronistic and bestial if she does not shave. The cave-woman illustration and caption evidences this bluntly: “Tame the Cave Lady, verb. To shave out-of-the-way places such as the toes—where women aren’t shown by movies or magazines to have hair, yet almost all do.”

Others more subtly hit home that shaving is a hygienic necessity. “Jaybird, noun. A carefully executed, super-thorough shave to set your mind at ease before a checkup, massage or other appointment that calls for shedding your clothes in front of a total stranger.” Since hair removal is in no way hygienic (in fact, if blades are shared or not cleaned and changed appropriately, shaving itself could actually be unhygienic) the ads can only imply that uncleanliness results from not shaving.

The “voice of the herd”¹² may indeed compel women to shave, but the hairless herd originated and is perpetuated by marketing interests, interests that American women have internalized as “beauty” and justify as a personal choice. “I shave because I like it” is a frequent assertion, but a historically inaccurate statement. Women shave because Harper’s Bazaar arbitrarily told them to in 1915. But razor companies are doing everything possible to make sure you forget it, because the simple origins of female body hair removal are enough to make us question this destructive, expensive, and unnecessary cultural habit.

1. Elisabeth G. Gitter, “The Power of Women’s Hair in the Victorian Imagination,” PMLA 99.5 (1984): 936.
2. Merran Toerien, Sue Wilkinson, and Precilla Y.L Choi, “Body Hair Removal: The ‘Mundane’ Production of Normative Femininity,” Sex Roles 52. 5/6 (2005): 404.
3.Marika Tiggerman and Sarah J. Kenyon, “The hairlessness norm: The removal of body hair in women” Sex Roles: A Journal of Research 39.11-12 (1998): 873.
4. Christine Hope, “Caucasian Female Body Hair and American Culture” Journal of American Culture, 5.1 (1982): 98.
5. Ibid 93.
6. Ibid 94.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid 95.
9. Hope 96.
10. Ibid 97.
11. Wolf 276.
12. Ewen 137.

Taking a queer perspective allows us to actively and radically critique the normative, hegemonic ideas underpinning anti-immigration legislation and attitudes. In trying to “undermine the idea of sexual identities and orientation,”—going beyond traditional notions of gay, lesbian and heterosexual identities—queer perspectives focusing on immigration and border issues have the potential to denaturalize restrictive and deadly state projects and actions like border militarization.

However, a queer stance goes further than critiquing policy. Queer scholarship can illuminate the dialectic between sexuality and “citizenship” or “nation” by detailing how it forms and defines and is itself formed and defined constitutively by dominant, normative conceptions of these terms. Queer scholarship can thereby expand these notions in radical ways, noting the power relations behind it all.

One principle concern is that the state, by attempting to regulate the demography and quantity of who enters legally and subsequently “illegally,” effectively regulates identities. Although constrained (or perhaps liberated?) in some ways by the needs of global capitalism , and other powerful social forces, at least with regards to the U.S., the state has—from its infancy to the present—implemented policy that excludes all those it perceives of as “undesirable.” This entails not only the poor, women, people of color, and its political adversaries to name a few, but gays, lesbians, and all those who do not adhere sexually or in any other way to its standards. In regards to GLBTQ persons, United States policy thereby tries to “incorporate immigrants into hegemonic nationalist identities and projects” that reject sexually deviant or, again, “‘undesirable’ acts or outcomes.”

Beyond all the jargon and theory, we may be inspired to engage in immigration-related activism by noting three facts: According to a Lambda Legal pamphlet: “U.S. immigration law does not recognize same-sex relationships, and, as a result, same-sex spouses or partners are not eligible for immigration benefits.” This may not be surprising, but it certainly rarely factors in to the immigration “debate.” Furthermore, as a recent court case demonstrates, asylum is rarely granted or even considered on the basis of oppression due to one’s sexual orientation. In order to be granted asylum, in general, an individual must “demonstrate past persecution or well-founded fear of future persecution on account of race, religion, nationality, political opinion or membership in a particular group, which now includes homosexuals.” Lastly, I would like to point out the somewhat obscure fact that the U.S. removed its ban on lesbian and gay immigrants in 1990.

Amidst a hailstorm of anti-immigrant sentiment, we too are feeling the sting. And as May Day (now operating as an immigrant rights day of action in the U.S.) arrives, not only should we push for more “comprehensive immigration” legislation, we should strive to thoroughly interrogate all its normative assumptions. We need to link up with grassroots organizations representing peoples deemed “undesirable.” We need to be out there on the streets, together in the multitude, demanding justice—not simply in the form of “policy,” but in the form of something entirely more profound.

Vassar’s Eating Disorder Reachout Service (EDRS) recently screened the documentary Do I Look Fat: A Documentary on Gay Men, Body Image, and Eating Disorders. Profiling the lives of eight gay men, whose backgrounds and age ranges varied widely, the documentary dealt with issues of eating disorders and distorted body image, internalized homophobia, substance abuse, and the HIV/AIDS pandemic.

Having never have seriously considered how, as a gay male, image is an automatically integral part of my existence, this documentary made me realize how profound the focus on body image and appearance are in the gay community. The idealized form of male attractiveness is found frequently in depictions of gay men in popular culture, including pornography, fashion and gay-centric magazines. This prototypical gay may is either the über-thin, toned guy or the hyper-muscled, gym frequenting guy; there is no middle ground. Holding onto these physical forms as paramount forces gay men to cheat ourselves by not appreciating our natural body forms which may, for all intents and purposes, suit us best and actually make us genuinely sexy, as opposed to what the latest heavily edited cover of Out Magazine portrays as being desirable.

This is not meant to disparage men who care for their health and fitness by eating properly and working out; I simply take issue with the obsession with looking ‘good’ (i.e thin) that then leads to eating disorders and low self-esteem, even leading to promiscuity and sexually transmitted diseases. I would like to think there is more to life than starving oneself, abusing substances, or obsessing over how our bodies are acceptable to the gay community or to society in general. In Do I Look Fat, a psychologist marveled at how he had never encountered a gay male who was entirely satisfied with his body; there was always more weight to be lost or more muscle to be gained, all in pursuit of an elusive goal that is both unrealistic in its depiction and unfulfilling in its attainment.

So what’s the alternative, inquiring minds may ask. How about not measuring our worth as gay men and women by how many pounds we lose or gain or who we take to our room at night, but by applying our intellects and emotions to truly go beyond the superficial and explore what really makes us happy—to consider what matters versus what does not. Having the faculties of mind and the privilege, especially here at Vassar, to be fully out and unafraid of what some homophobe might do to you with a baseball bat on the street corner, it is imperative for us to use this opportunity to go beyond just merely existing.

Sure, these issues of body image are found in the heterosexual world as well, though in different manifestations. However, we find ourselves at a crossroad, with a world increasingly open to acceptance of homosexuality pitted against an older generation of policymakers who seek to restrict our rights in any way they can. What will our response be? To fight for equal rights and recognition or a continued myopic preoccupation with body “improvement” that, in the end, is trivial and unfulfilling?

As many national political issues are wont to do, it seems that the debate on gay marriage in the United States has become rather monolithic—as if to suggest that it is the universal and uncontested desire of all gays and lesbians to share equally in the institution of marriage. On March 29th, the Queer Coalition of Vassar College screened the film Homotopia, which presents a strong critique of the gay marriage movement as it currently manifests itself on the political landscape of the United States.

Depicting a very traditional-looking white middle class gay wedding reception—interrupted by a strike team of young gay and transgender men, drag queens, and lesbians throwing water balloons and knocking over trays of drinks and snacks—the film and the filmmakers encourage us to re-evaluate how we think about gay marriage because of the post-colonial perspective they employ. Their critique is that the current gay marriage movement co-opts queer identities into discourses of middle class consumerism and mainstream patriotism. While I don’t believe that marriage—regardless of the sexualities of the individuals involved—is inherently middle class or materialistic, the filmmakers’ point is timely and deserves more attention.

In addition to challenging my own views on the issue of gay marriage, the movie went further and challenged my relationship with straight marriage as well. Previously, I had decided to forgo marriage in order to achieve solidarity with gay and lesbian couples that do not have that privilege of choice. Presently, I understand my own choice as one that is also relevant to other heterosexuals. And why not? As the movement for gay marriage brings “the American family” into the political spotlight, would it not behoove straight people, as the principal consumers of marriage, to consider our relationship to it, as well as with each other?

The involvement of those directly implicated in the issue at hand—in this case, heterosexual couples with the privilege of marriage—can provoke rapid and profound changes in any social movement. Other than simply offering themselves as allies of gay activism, heterosexuals would do well to take cues from the creativity that many queer, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender activists have brought to the issue of marriage over the past decades in order to push the debate around marriage beyond its current simplicity. The current public discussions surrounding marriage and the family in the United States could allow for significantly broader changes than the simple inclusion of same-sex couples into the institution of marriage—if heterosexuals dared to think as creatively as their homosexual activist counterparts.

It would not be unprecedented, either. Heterosexual couples have historically demonstrated a transformational impulse when it comes to marriage: The realization comes to us that heterosexuals transformed the institution of marriage from one exclusively of economic security and class status into one of two individuals who are in love.

Yet the heterosexual impulse and innovative imagination has been silent for the last few centuries. I fear we have become too complacent with a marred and inferior institution. So as long as we’re on the subject of imagination, I have my own idea for a movie—I think I’ll call it Heterotopia. We see panic and terror in the American heartland—“family values” country—and Fox News running the emergency broadcast system as the nuclear patriarchal normative “family” threatens to collapse.

This crisis of “the American family,” so long a fear of the conservative Christians is, in my movie, brought about not from allowing gay and lesbian couples to marry, but rather because marriages have ceased outright. Hundreds of thousands of straight couples across the nation relinquish their privilege to marry because they view their own marriages as less sacred considering the historically violent and presently exclusive boundaries of the institution.

They would not be doing this out of a sense of “guilt.” Rather, quite the opposite: It would be an action taken because of an abundance of innocence. It is innocence that is the driving force allowing a heterosexual couple to accept their privilege of marriage without understanding its direct connection to the exclusion of homosexual couples. The idea that a privilege such as marriage can exist justly for some while being withheld from others is as flawed as those who disputed Lincoln’s claim that our country could not survive half enslaved and half free.

“The harvest is great, but the laborers are few,” as the saying goes. Why, at this crucial moment in the history of the institution of marriage, are heterosexuals leaving the transformation to others when they could become a juggernaut in the fight for a more just and equitable family life in this country? While I don’t think my movie will be in theaters anytime soon, I believe the time has come for heterosexuals to more fully accept and engage with their enormous socio-political potential that has languished for the last few centuries. Heterosexuals must come to grips with their own innocence and re-evaluate their participation in the institution of marriage. At the urging of the queer activist community, it seems that the time has come for people of all sexual orientations to come together to think about a future beyond marriage.

As much as they might like to disagree, most gay men on Vassar campus are easily identifiable. Whether they wear their polos a little loose or their Diesel jeans baggy, they are easily distinguishable from your average straight boy. They may flamboyantly prance around campus or chose to lay low, but they are all equally homosexual; there are no shades of gray. However, in contrast to the gay man’s stereotype, the bear community is hyper-emasculating the gay man’s image and making its presence known New York City and around the world.

As of late, the gay community has seen a rise of the “bear culture.” Bears define themselves as mature, masculine men who seek to maintain an outwardly manly appearance. Bears come in many forms; however, generally, beards and chest hair are an unspoken requirement. Sometimes bears are chunky and overweight; sometimes they are muscular and defined, like your archetypal man’s man. For the most part, a bear is outwardly tough, lending no insight to the fact that in the bedroom, they may show a much more vulnerable side. Yet a complete definition of a bear is highly debatable.

Time-Out New York, a magazine dedicated to weekly events in New York City, recently focused their gay and lesbian subsection on the bear community. They listed an assortment of clubs for bears, ranging from campy monthly events such as “XXL’s Transatlantic Tea Dance,” to the more hardcore “WOOF bar” in Chelsea. Bears are everywhere, even invading the online dating scene with websites such as bigmusclebears.com or others, where one posts a picture and surfers determine whether or not you are a bear. GLAAD and the Center in NYC include links to bear-friendly websites, recognizing the presence of the bear community. While the bear movement started in the San Francisco bay area in the ‘80s, it contemporarily has become a popular, mainstream movement. Look closely at the muscle man sitting next to you on the subway; he might be on bigmusclebears.com.

Unfortunately, bears can be patronizing to gay men who display effeminate style and mannerisms. On popular bear dating sites, a typical ad might ask for “no fats or fems, hair’s a plus.” While many bears give off a “straight,” rugged, manly man vibe, many of them are just as flamboyant as the typical club kid, and condescension towards other gays is problematic. Bears may be bears, but there is no need to further segregate within a community that already suffers from so much discrimination. I’m not asking for peace and love; after all, gay men are not a homogenous group of people. I’m just asking for some common respect.

For fun, I recently posted a basic profile on bigmusclebears.com to see whether bears were really as selective as they come off. For those of you who know me, rugged, manly and masculine are not the first three adjectives that come to mind. I recently checked the profile and I’ve had 93 people put me on their “I like” list, an X-rated version of the Facebook “poke.” I’ve also received messages in which people ask me if they can be my Daddy. I was pretty surprised to find responses to my profile, mainly due to my “unbearly” qualities and my lack of use on the website. If bears are as manly, rugged and put off by effeminate men as they would like to think, then what do they want with an old queen like me?

The qualities that make you a bear are constantly in question. If you are hairless and effeminate, but really attracted to the bear-type, are you still a bear? If you have some qualities that fit the description, but not all, are you still a bear? If you want to find out for yourself, start up a profile on bigmusclebears.com—you might find a bear looking for a cub. Check out the local run down bar, and you might find a daddy looking for a boy toy. The bear community hasn’t quite made it to Vassar campus yet, but when it does, straight boys beware: your buddies might just be BITs (bears in training).

Though less visible than the gay male scene (as is often the case in the United States), the Dutch lesbian scene nevertheless has a unique presence, with four lesbian bars scattered about the city and several periodic women’s parties. My personal favorite venue is De Trut, an underground queer party that takes place on Sunday nights. A large sign hanging over the entrance pronounces “Queers and Dykes Only,” clearly demarcating De Trut as a specifically queer space. The club’s laid-back vibe is emphasized by the fact that it is run entirely by volunteers. A dim, funky atmosphere, good music and VJing, and cheap drinks, combined with a hip, sexy, 20-something crowd packed into a room aglow in black light makes this party well worth the long line for entry. De Trut also has an intensely loyal fan base: I met one woman who has been to De Trut every Sunday night for the past eight years.

In terms of gay rights, the Netherlands is far ahead of the United States: In 2001, the Dutch government granted equal marriage rights. Moreover, the universal health care plan, under which all Dutch citizens are covered, pays for a full sex change procedure, including pre- and post-op counseling. Bottom surgery is not even an option for most Americans, since American insurance does not cover the costly surgery. However, Dutch insurance covers only the full sex change procedure; trans people who desire only top surgery must pay out of pocket. This policy reflects the Dutch medical establishment’s belief that sex and/or gender ambiguity is unhealthy and unacceptable. Medicalized queer phobia spills over into dominant attitudes within the Dutch gay community, where there is little space for gender queers.

Although the Dutch gay subculture has been allowed to develop in an unprece-dented way, it has as yet not breached the solid walls of heteronormativity and the rigid gender binary; even within Amsterdam, gayness is relegated to specific spaces, such as gay swim hour at the local pool. Yet the Dutch gay identity is noticeably depoliticized; the gay community does not actively push for social equality or a central rather than peripheral position in Dutch society. Perhaps this is because gays in the Netherlands have achieved legal equality and enjoy overall social tolerance. However, tolerance must not be mistaken for acceptance, even in the gay capital of Europe; as long as heterosexuality remains the organizing principle of social life, there remains a pressing need for spirited social activism in advocating true equality.

Inspired by the fictional flow chart of hook-ups on Showtime’s The L-Word, an underground Vassar lesbian hook-up chart was sketched out this fall. The Vassar Chart spread quickly via sight, word-of-mouth, and a couple of e-mail forwards, with each recipient adding on her own knowledge to the many criss-crossing lines. Seeing the College’s lesbian networks displayed this way offered a subversive thrill, allowing viewers to visually chart the overlaps, the patterns and the obvious individual preferences.

It makes perfect sense, then, that an L-Word affiliated website, OurChart.com, has just launched a virtual version of the show’s brainchild to try to capitalize on this kind of information sharing. Though the television show’s version is exclusively about hook-ups, OurChart.com postures itself as more of a Facebook-like friend-and-maybe-more type of networking site. Visually the Chart itself looks like a spider web, with member photos linked to each other by thin gray lines, and photos that bob when you scroll your mouse across them. Clicking on another member’s snapshot opens a small window, which allows you to view their chart, add them as a friend, send them a message, or go to their profile.

Dedicated L-Word viewer Liza ’07 joined OurChart.com because “I thought it would be a fun way to connect with other women. I was interested to see how a lesbian-only online community would play itself out.” But her boifriend, Kaeden Field ’05, standing in the kitchen beside her, countered, “I’m friends with gay people already, I don’t need to know dykes all over the country.” But, s/he also concedes Liza’s point that OurChart “would be good for [advertising] events” to the lesbian community, possibly even inspiring the expansion of real-life lesbian-to-lesbian connections, especially in places with a high lesbian concentration. Liza also added that the OurChart format is not as limiting as Facebook, since you can see the profiles of all members, even before adding them as one of your vectors.

As for the site’s flaws, the total network is still under 1,000 people, and relies perhaps a little too much on the show. L-Word actresses Katherine Moennig and Leisha Hailey have profiles, but there’s a falsity to their presence, especially because they are founding partners of the site and thus have a vested interest in using their celebrity status to expand the site.

Liza points out that because the Chart is only about hookups on the L-Word, OurChart’s friend-ness “does make for this weird dynamic—it was about hook-ups, now it’s just about friends?” Kaeden jumps in coyly, “I think it’s be better if it was hook-ups, it’d be funny.” And perhaps that will be OurChart’s next step.