I’ve been embittered about Queer Studies as a focus forever. I don’t know how I feel about trying to deepen that interest into a vocation, especially one I might be able to stick with for the next thirty-odd years.
I also feel as though it isn’t a legitimate vocation because of the way it entered my life – and maybe like it isn’t sustainable for that reason. I don’t know if I want to use my orientation and identity for career fodder. Writing one discrete autobiographical piece on both seems resourceful, but grounding my entire professional life in that stance? It seems limiting – and it feels hampering.
There’s also the time-served problem: I’ve already been immersed in queer studies for over a decade, and I don’t have much exposure to other fields of study or theory. I already feel a little bit sick of the subject, and I can’t imagine that will improve over the next few years.
Then there’s the vulnerability: this is my life; I would effectively be positioning myself as a text for the other academics I came into contact with, even inviting that reading, especially if some of my work will be memoir. I’ve had terrible experiences with that double-dealing as an amateur queer.
Also, I really, really, really, really hate Jack Halberstam. I hate them. I hate Jack Halberstam and his stupid, dated jokes. And – this might be straight-up immaturity, but – I don’t know if I feel comfortable with queer studies because of the clannish duty to fellow queer theorists. Can you be a queer theorist if you’re, you know, vocally ungrateful to every senior academic in your field? Should you be?