Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Christopher Chiasera
Feminist Political Theory
Prof. Terwiel
I. INTRODUCTION
Intuitively, it may seem as though there is minimal overlap between the interests of
feminist theorists and advocates of LGBTQ+ issues. The former camp seeks to secure the
liberation of women by advancing their rights on the grounds of sex/gender; the latter, to liberate
gay people by advancing their rights on the grounds of sexuality/sexual orientation. Indeed, over
the course of feminist history, this latent incongruity in theoretical focus and political agenda has
concretized into ideological opposition, at times boiling over to the point of open hostility:
lesbian women in the late twentieth century, for example, were often the targets of immense
threats to other women or as deserters in the fight against patriarchy and oppressive male-female
While there is undeniably greater solidarity between feminists and lesbian women today,
it is still natural to think of the activities of feminist and gay activism as, if not in opposition to
one another, at least operating in the separate spheres of gender issues/sexuality issues. I
contend, however, that for feminists to allow for such a division of labor—i.e., to ignore
sexuality and the gay struggle, and effectively leave such concerns to other disciplines, such as
queer studies—is to blunder massively. In truth, the issues faced by members of the LGBTQ+
community are often every bit as theoretically relevant to feminists as they are to gay/queer
theorists and activists. To elucidate this in the modern context, this paper will consider the 2022
“Parental Rights in Education” (dubbed by opponents as the “Don’t Say Gay”) bill recently
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signed in the United States by Florida Governor Ron DeSantis. I aim to demonstrate how the
implications of such a bill are highly antagonistic to the feminist political agenda, and,
accordingly, that feminists ought to support gay activists in demanding that it be overturned.
The Parental Rights in Education bill was signed by Florida Governor Ron DeSantis on
February 24, 2022. Essentially, it is an amendment to the powers and duties of district school
boards in the state of Florida which aims at “reinforc[ing] the fundamental right of parents to
make decisions regarding the upbringing and control of their children in a specified manner”
(“Parental Rights in Education” 1). The bill would abolish procedures that “prohibit school
district personnel from notifying a parent about his or her student’s mental, emotional, or
physical health or well-being,” guarantee that parents be able to “withhold consent or decline any
specific [healthcare] service” offered by the school district, mandate that “student well-being
and approved by parents beforehand, and so on (“Parental Rights in Education” 4-5). What has
made this bill particularly controversial, however, and from whence its gets its polemical name,
is its third paragraph: “Classroom instruction by school personnel or third parties on sexual
orientation or gender identity may not occur in kindergarten through grade 3 or in a manner that
Concern with the bill, then, is a consequence of this third paragraph. Education about and
informal reference to LGBTQ+ issues, as well as sexuality and gender altogether, have been
banished from the lower levels of Florida elementary schools. An already underrepresented and
stigmatized minority has been further severed from representation and stigmatized; queer
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teachers and faculty are no longer able to feel comfortable in their classrooms, for fear of
referencing their partner of the same sex or requesting to be referred to by preferred pronouns
and being punished for it. The ambiguous language of the bill (what constitutes “classroom
instructors from cultivating supportive environments where they are able to address important
civil rights issues regarding homosexuality and transgender identity. Though certainly alarming
for activists of gay rights, the negative implications of this, as I will show, should not be lost on
Floridian feminists (or feminists in general) as they hope to advance their own emancipatory
movement.
Perhaps the most obvious rationale for feminist interest in the Parental Rights in
Education bill is the simple fact that lesbian women exist. “Woman,” the feminist subject,
sustains itself not as an abstract archetype for mono-variable, single-axis political theorizing, but
rather is perpetually entrenched in other modes of coinciding identity. In other words: insofar as
feminists talk about “women” who are nothing but “women,” they are talking about nobody and
nothing at all. There are only concrete, human women—women who are not just women, but
This latter kind of “woman,” as a site of many concurrent political and identity features,
is famously spotlighted in the Black feminist lesbian socialist organization Combahee River
Collective’s (henceforth CRC) Combahee River Collective Statement. For the CRC, feminism
cannot possibly be reduced to the situation of the female sex/gender, because many of these same
female subjects face “racial, sexual, heterosexual, and class oppression” (CRC 15). The proper
feminist, therefore, aims to develop an “integrated analysis and practice based upon the fact that
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the major systems of oppression are interlocking,” insofar as she realizes that “[t]he synthesis of
these oppressions creates the conditions of our lives” (CRC 15). To construe a woman’s identity
in terms of her sex is too reductionistic. She is always a woman of a particular sexual orientation,
occupying a particular status in the hierarchy of classes, afforded a body of a particular color and
environmental health and safety, and so on. When the feminist uses it, the signifier “woman”
ought to refer to each and every one of these real, particular human beings.
In light of this, I would argue that, when we consider the sexual/romantic freedom of
even a single lesbian woman, we have entered the territory of feminist concern. To act as though
she is somehow able to be distilled into her constituent, characteristic parts—that the feminist
ought only to be worried about the “woman” part of her, and leave her lesbianism to the side, for
the queer theorists—is mere idealistic fantasy. Likewise, insofar as the Parental Rights in
Education bill harms even a single lesbian teacher or student, it falls on the feminist to work with
stand in opposition to the Parental Rights in Education bill. While obviously diverging in
concrete sexual practice, queer individuals and straight women alike have an intimate
relationship to sexuality, and have struggled historically to achieve adequate sexual expression.
The bill in question stands in the way of both groups’ freedoms in this area.
Before further explanation can be given to this latter point, it might be helpful to briefly
recount the historical and theoretical relationship between feminism and sex-positivity. Sex-
positive feminism emerged as a central camp in the sex wars of the late 1970s and 1980s, as an
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alternative to anti-sex and self-proclaimed “pro-woman” feminism. While anti-sex feminists saw
sexual activity and promiscuity as conceding to and shaped by the perverted interests of
patriarchy, and pro-woman feminists regarded sex as a strategic tool for the reclamation of
political power and economic security from men, pro-sex feminists “insisted that women were
sexual subjects in their own right, whose acts of consent—saying yes and no—were morally
dispositive” (Srinivasan 81). Gayle Rubin’s “Thinking Sex: Notes for a Radical Theory of the
Politics of Sexuality,” from Culture, Sexuality, and Society: A Reader, written in the wake of the
sex wars, is a preeminent work of feminist sex-positivity. In it, she criticizes what she calls the
ideological formulation of “sex negativity”: the notion that sex is “a dangerous, destructive,
negative force,” is “inherently sinful,” “presumed guilty until proven innocent,” “unless a
(150). Sex-positive feminists like Rubin are critical of the puritan cultural tendency, clearly
influenced by Christian moral traditions, to regard the act of sex and sexual expression as things
which are “bad,” shameful, or deserving of being somehow “kept away” from others.
How does all this relate to the Parental Rights in Education bill, a piece of legislation
concerning homosexuality? Precisely by virtue of the fact that it is not explicitly concerned with
homosexuality—rather, the bill prohibits all serious, educational conversations about sexuality in
general, even in its most abstract and innocuous form. Here we see an inkling of the sex
negativity about which Rubin had warned us. Of course, it is problematic that the bill precludes
teachers from being able to discuss gay issues, or matters of gender identity—but it is also
worrisome insofar as it inhibits the preliminary sexual understandings of children, who, despite
being constantly bombarded with imagery and depictions of war, criminality, violence, profanity,
and death in popular media (just consider video games, for example), are somehow “too
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innocent” to be educated about sexuality. This is by no means to suggest that children ought to
graphically learn about sexual intercourse/sex acts or receive a comprehensive sex education as
part of primary schooling. But it is to point out that the harmless, perfectly familiar concept of
human sexuality—of men loving women, of women loving men, of men loving men, of women
loving women—is arbitrarily treated as something “dirty” from which the youth must be
“protected,” and that this impulse stems from the same traditionalist, conservative perspective
that fuels the dogma of sex negativity. Thus, as a corollary (or perhaps as an antecedent) to full-
blown sex-positivity, pro-sex feminists are impelled to encourage safe and healthy dialogue
Finally, I argue that feminists, alongside gay activists, are obliged to oppose the Parental
Rights in Education bill because the subjects each club purports to represent—women and gay
As for the harm done in queer communities by heterosexual manifestations of sexual and
romantic custom and practice, this is effectively self-evident. The entire plight of the homosexual
heteronormativity were easy to subvert, then, frankly, gay activists would have done it by now. It
much homophobic rhetoric and argumentation, and which is so pervasive in the way we
apparent. However, one possible formulation seems latent in the work of Catharine MacKinnon,
namely in Chapter 7, titled “Sexuality,” of her book Toward a Feminist Theory of the State.
in power between men and women, and does so by turning to pornography as a reflection of
men’s sexual desire. Accordingly, for her, sexuality is revealed as a matter of force. “From the
testimony of pornography,” MacKinnon writes, “what men want is: women bound, women
battered, women tortured, women humiliated, women degraded and defiled, women killed. …
[W]omen sexually accessible, have-able, there for them, waiting to be taken and used” (138).
These findings reflect the very real correlation between the predominant (read: heterosexual1)
conceptualization of sexuality and the use of violence. Insofar as two sexual agents entertain
sexual attraction or engage in sexual activity with one another under the social conditions of
domination. For cisgender couples, these roles are signified “man” and “woman”; for lesbians,
“butch” and “femme”; for gay men, “top” and “bottom” (135). It would seem as though the
heterosexual sex, inspired by men’s misogynistic fantasies. Such constructions are exactly what
for feminists to subvert heteronormativity at its foundations and pave the way for new forms of
romantic and sexual connection between consenting human beings that are not characterized by
force and violence (e.g., a purely homosexual lesbian relationship, in which the “male desire,” as
1 I suggest that, because her disapproval of sex centers around its glorification and unproblematic acceptance of
male sexual desire towards women, there is ample room for an anti-heteronormative reading of this text, even
though MacKinnon herself does not explicitly level her criticisms of sexuality to heterosexuality/-normativity in
particular.
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MacKinnon calls it, is excluded, and heterosexual norms do not structure behavioral
expectations). The Parental Rights in Education bill, however, by prohibiting curricular talk in
early education of diverse sexual identities, makes this exceedingly difficult. Feminists have a
IV. CONCLUSION
While the theoretical domain of queer studies and political textures of the gay struggle
may at first have seemed quite far removed from feminism, an imaginative synthesis of eclectic
ideological contributions from the Combahee River Collective, Gayle Rubin, and Catharine
MacKinnon reveals the worlds of feminist advocacy and LGBTQ+ activism to be substantively
overlapping. In particular, such an analysis demonstrates how the Florida Parental Rights in
Education (“Don’t Say Gay”) bill poses a threat to the intersectional, sex-positive, anti-
heteronormative feminist project, and thereby underscores the urgency with which feminists
Works Cited
Combahee River Collective. “The Combahee River Collective Statement.” How We Get
Free: Black Feminism and the Combahee River Collective, edited by Keenga-Yamahtta
Press, 1989.
“Referred Committees and Committee Actions.” CS/CS/HB 1557 (2022) - Parental Rights
https://www.myfloridahouse.gov/Sections/Bills/billsdetail.aspx?
BillId=76545&SessionId=93.
Rubin, Gayle. “Thinking Sex: Notes for a Radical Theory of the Politics of Sexuality.”
Culture, Sexuality and Society: A Reader, edited by Richard Parker and Peter Aggleton,
Srinivasan, Amia. “The Right to Sex.” The Right to Sex: Feminism in the Twenty-First