It seems nearly
impossible to capture the experience I’ve had in the last two months in
one or two pages of typed words. When I think back on it, and try
to write all I see are little clips and sights and sounds and feelings.
I think its called flashbulb memory, maybe it’s from some psych class or
maybe I just made it up. I think that’s how people remember sexual
experiences, with flashbulb memories. My attempt to study drag king
culture in Metro Detroit was like a new sexual experience in a way.
It was cathartic, and I became increasingly less inhibited. I’ve
written a lot in my journals over the course of this project. I think
the best way to go about writing this would be to offer you a few of my
memories, a few of my flashes.
I dressed up in
drag numerous times over the course of the past few months. These
were excerpts from my first day around out around campus. I think
that my own revelations and feelings while in drag are important.
I really wanted to understand the experience of my subjects.
“Cheryl was ironing my pants and shirt and I already felt like she was helping her man get ready for work.”Since I was interested in discovering,” what’s the motivation, why do drag?” I had to ask myself that question too.“It took a sports bra and two ace bandages to strap me down. It hurt at first. I was scared and panicked at first. I tried breathing faster. I learned how to take shallow breaths. I had pec muscles not breasts. I never thought a crazy braless hippie girl would find so much freedom being so bound.”
“When I snuck into my seat I heard a rush of whispers behind me. A male student to my right looked over once, and then twice, recognized me and gave me a confirming smile. I simply nodded and spread my legs. Leaning back in my desk sitting down I became acutely aware of my penis. It felt part of me. It felt like there was all this energy at my crotch. It encouraged me to take up more space. I felt powerful. The quite aloofness felt good.”
She gasped and said; “hey, get out of here!” loudly while washing her hands at the bathroom sink. And I realized that I’d passed for the first time. I felt like apologizing profusely for scaring her and flicking her off at the same time.”
So what’s so appealing about this for me? It’s the double take. Works every time. It in that moment where the lines are blurred. Where preconceived notions crumble, where confusion is the only certainty. When their eyes meet mine searching for answers. I’m making a statement. I’m doing my part.Through this project I was also able to explore further my sexual feelings for masculine women
He slid into the seat next to me at the booth. His movements were smooth, like water. Suddenly I was drinking a beer, and he was asking all the stupid questions men ask when hitting on someone. Coming from him, it was different. I didn’t know what was a game anymore, how much of this was real, or what he’d look like tomorrow, and I didn’t care.I feel like I took risks with myself, and asked a lot of hard questions. Although I don’t think that I came up with any conclusions except the need for more research.
I thought Drag Kings were these magical beings. Maybe I was in awe, or maybe I saw something in them that I wished I saw more of in myself. But I discovered Drag Kings aren’t perfect. And, as a research method, Ethnography isn’t perfect, but that’s one of its greatest strengths. I found that it’s about mystery, and intuition and sometimes being in the right place at the right time, even if you don’t know until later that you were. It’s about telling a story and finding a balance. I started out measuring my success by evaluating how detached I was after each night of observation. In the end, I can see now, that my knowledge and understanding of a few drag kings on Saturday night at Stilettos came from my attachments and personal involvement. Remove ethnography from its stuffiness and live it. Get your hands dirty, make mistakes, be careful, be cautious, but become!