Journal of Lesbian Studies最新文献

This essay explores how Audre Lorde's work as a professor can help contemporary educators teach students about difference and power. Drawing from my new book Open Admissions, it focuses on two particular facets of her teaching: first, the ways Lorde centered students' ideas to generate collective investment in courses and allow them to learn from one another, and second, how she combined both a public and private pedagogy to help them address the injustice they were studying. I conclude with a brief discussion of how Lorde's work has shaped my own approach to classrooms.

This article explores historical research methods used to locate lesbians and queer women, especially within American and Canadian contexts from the 1960s onward. It begins by discussing methods such as analyzing women's and lesbian travel guides, directories, maps, periodicals, newsletters, newspapers, websites, oral histories, social media, archival fonds and collections. In particular, this article explores how utilizing lesbian and queer women musicians' tour schedules, calendars, correspondence, and contracts for shows and appearances can be a valuable historical research method, especially for locating impermanent historical lesbian and queer women's spaces off the beaten track. The article focuses on the Alix Dobkin Papers as a case study to explore aspects of historical lesbian and queer women's spaces and demonstrate the utility of this historical research method beyond Dobkin. The papers of Alix Dobkin include business correspondence, fan mail, fliers and programs from concerts, subject files, t-shirts, photographs, and memorabilia. As Dobkin played an important role in the women's music movement and toured regularly, her papers provide useful insight into historical debates about lesbian anti-racist politics, ethical consumption, community organizing, and transgender inclusion and exclusion.

Black lesbians experience more adverse health outcomes and economic insecurity in older age than their White counterparts due to enduring a lifetime of marginalization associated with the intersections of race, gender, and sexual orientation. Yet, there is a lack of organizations dedicated to empowering and supporting this population. ZAMI NOBLA (National Organization of Black Lesbians on Aging) is the only Black lesbian led national organization in the United States solely invested in improving the wellbeing of Black lesbian elders. Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, they worked in solidarity with community partners across the country to leverage technological innovation and community solidarity to combat ageist ideology and elevate the spaces in which Black lesbians and their networks were able to learn, heal, thrive, and live. The organization's efforts fostered solidarity across generations of lesbians and the wider LGBTQ + community.

The process of seeking help for violence in lesbian couples is complex due to the variety of factors and actors that can be involved. It is a process in which the women may or may not take action to ask for some kind of support, depending on the stage at which they find themselves. However, even though women may realise that they are in a situation of mistreatment or abuse in their relationship with their partner or ex-partner, there may be barriers that hinder them from seeking help. This paper presents a systematic review of the barriers that lesbian women encounter in seeking help or accessing support systems when they are victims of intimate partner violence. Out of 139 studies reviewed, 120 were selected for further review, and 8 studies meeting the methodological inclusion criteria were finally selected. The results of this research show that psycho-social and legal barriers exist, which, within a system of oppression - heterosexist society - do not occur in isolation, but are inter-related, making it difficult for lesbian women victims of intimate partner violence to seek help or access support services. This review finds limitations in the literature reviewed and makes recommendations for future research.

Few events evoke a divisive response amongst lesbians like the mentioning of the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival. Autoethnographies, interviews, podcasts, and books - just to name a few - continue to be crafted even after the forty-year festival's end. Unlike previous publications, this article approaches the festival using archival materials housed at Michigan State University donated by producer, Lisa Vogel, to unpack the signaling rhetoric of womyn-born-womyn (WBW). I center the experience Nancy Burkholder, a transsexual woman expelled from the festival, to navigate, as Nancy tried to navigate, the WBW "policy." I then take readers on a journey into the archive and articulate my research through calculated steps of tracing language through years of the festival. This article demonstrates how documents, created by festival producers, incited confusion for Nancy Burkholder during the festival and how these same documents now sustain an archival ambiguity.

This study documented between-group differences in factors associated with sexual revictimization histories in a sample of young sexual minority women. Diverse samples of lesbian (N = 204, age_M = 23.55 years) and bisexual (N = 249, age_M = 23.35 years) women from the United States were recruited using the CloudResearch platform to assess factors associated with recent experiences of intimate partner violence (IPV). Participants were categorized into four groups based on self-reports of sexual victimization (a) during childhood and (b) during adulthood in intimate relationships. Multivariate Analysis of Variance (MANOVA) was used to model between-group differences in three variable domains: Past-year substance use involvement, minority stress, and violence in relationship and community settings. Lesbian women reporting sexual revictimization in adulthood reported significantly higher scores for measures of past-year substance use involvement and negative consequences, daily discrimination experiences, relational victimization, and criminal victimization, compared to their counterparts with no history of sexual victimization. Among bisexual women, sexual revictimization was associated with a similar pattern of between-group differences. The sexual revictimization experiences of sexual minority women appear to occur in the context of multivariate patterns of harmful substance use, minority stress, and violence in both relationship and community settings. Our findings have implications for how intervention services are provided to emerging adult sexual minority women who experience multiple episodes of sexual abuse during their lifespans. Recommendations include specialized training for counseling or intervention service providers, integrated trauma-informed services that address both substance use and sexual assault issues, and affirmative services for sexual minority women.

Arantxa Echevarría's film Carmen y Lola (2018) takes a groundbreaking new approach to intersectionality and lesbian identity contextualizing a lesbian coming-of-age-story and its multicultural background and context. Owing to the colonial gaze and the outsider's perspective in the story telling, the film makes some major missteps in its representation of the Romani community in Spain. But nonetheless, the intersectional presentation is groundbreaking in terms of representation of lesbian diversity and experiences, since it portrays the lesbian subject as a triple minority: woman, lesbian, and Roma - a minority ethnic group still discriminated against in Spain. The story of two female Roma adolescents coming to terms with their mutual homoerotic desire intertwines with the marginality of their community and a conservative and homophobic environment in which lesbianism does not find a space. I argue that Echevarría's film explores the topics of minorities both in terms of ethnicity and sexual orientation. The director aims to represent this otherness as a marginalized and decentered subjectivity that intersects with other axes of discrimination. It is from this marginal position that the film explores the forms of resistance against the control of the lesbian body that women directors are carrying out in Spanish cinema.

This is my personal experience of being a lesbian living on the land. What is unusual in my story is that I've been doing this for fifty-four years and that I had the good fortune of settling on the north coast of California in a community of gay friendly, progressive back-to-the-landers. Those early years of the 70's were times of exploration. We learned how to live in harmony with each other and with the natural world around us. We learned about our oppression as women, as lesbians, and tried to convey these lessons to others through our national magazine "Country Women". Decades have passed and I write about what has happened to those early settlers. My personal evolution has been through small farming and art. Both of these endeavors keep me connected to this beloved place and still allow me to reach others and encourage them to cherish the land. What I've seen over the years is that women and especially lesbians have a unique connection with the land. We are more likely to respect and nurture our Mother Earth as we love care for our own female bodies and our children. Of course, many straight women and many men are wonderful caretakers of the land so, as in most things, it is not a black and white situation. Our community has stayed strong and continues to battle the forces bent on destruction of the redwoods and the ocean. As my generation passes on, I wonder if there will be a new batch of settlers to carry on what we started or if the inevitable march of tourism and expensive homes will be the end of our legacy of protection.

The present article takes the recurrent motif of trees in Ali Smith's oeuvre as a point of departure to analyze how Smith forges an alliance between environmental concerns and queerness. It argues that her short stories present their own version of queer ecology on both a conceptual and aesthetic level. Smith queers ecological relations and brings ecological concerns to bear on the queer on multiple scales, continuously disrupting linear narratives, anthropocentric thinking and capitalist imperatives of (re)production and productivity for the benefit of interdepenence, resistance and inter-species care. By means of non-linear storytelling, ambiguous pronouns and shifting narrative perspective she aesthetically and conceptually opens space for queer desires, interspecies care and a cyclical, distinctly ecological view of queer futurity that ultimately extends not just to environmental and social but also cultural relations.

The subfield of rural queer studies and the concept of lesbian earth encourage scholars to explore the significance of rural place, nature, and climate change in queer texts. Alison Bechdel's graphic memoir, Fun Home: A Family TragicComic, presents nature as a source of familial conflict, creativity, and mutual support and as under threat due to strip mining. The climate change novel, 2 Degrees, focuses intensely on the realities of climate change and lesbian relations with the earth. These two texts are drastically different, yet they both convey a lesbian earth sensibility, featuring main characters who practice an open, vulnerable, interdependent stance with themselves and the more-than-human world.