Fucking White Boys

This blog is dedicated to all the acculturated brown girls out there who “ like me “ are having a hard time navigating their vaginas, their politics, and their identities.

I’m a fat, politically queer, dick-loving Latina femme with a breast fetish.

Atheism, Miss Piggy and my skinny, white, femmey boyfriend are near and dear to my heart. Atheism, Miss Piggy and white boys are also what are affectionately deemed among many people of color that I know as stuff that white people like. Or at least stuff that we’re allowed to like privately, but when acted upon will result in eyebrow-raising.

Exhibit A: During our myriad strolls down Market Street, my friend (a Japanese gay man who does research on Japanese men who exclusively desire relationships with white men) comments on the relationships between white men and brown women as we pass them: “She got colonized. Though he assures me that he doesn’t think of my relationship in that way, I know that he’s just soft-peddling the judgment.

Exhibit B: While teaching comprehensive sex ed in the Mission (a neighborhood in SF that has historically been largely populated by Latinos) I was expected to practice a cultural “sensitivity model, which included respecting that Catholicism is central to many Latinos’ views on sex, abortion and relationships. I was asked by students whether they would go to hell for having sex and whether God believed abortion was ok. When asked point blank, I had to share my belief that God was imaginary. This is the sort of thing that makes my grandmother cry.

Ok, so, yes I get it. I get the necessity to deconstruct colonialism, to question why Miss Piggy is blonde, to scrutinize my erotic inclinations for political debris. I get the inclination to bifurcate brown/black and white existence as a means to distance ourselves from a culture that so often painfully excludes us and which is responsible for our (and their) internalized racism. I so absolutely, definitely get that. I don’t have beef with it, in fact.

But it creates a lot of anxiety for me. And that’s what this blog is about.

As a bi-racial woman (Mexican and Iranian) who was raised by my Mexican grandparents, I know how to maneuver a tortilla, but, somehow, I talk like a valley girl. Spanish was spoken in my home all the time, but I speak Spanish with the stop-and-go awkwardness of a high schooler in foreign language class. I was raised Christian, but I think Jesus is a mascot of heteropatriarchy, a racist projection and a tool of colonialism of the mind and of the spirit. I often find myself in white spaces: graduate school, radical queer performance troupes, San Francisco.

In short, I feel like a “bad brown girl all the time.

For a long time, I had no idea what the sticky discomfort was about. I didn’t understand my attraction to white men or my desire to dye my hair lighter colors. I tried to join a Latina sorority, but I was third generation and most of them were first or a very close second. Even though I didn’t perfectly “mesh with the sex-positive white feminists, I felt more at home with their views since my sexuality (particularly my fetishism) was such an integral part of my life story and my identity. I was introduced to sex positivity and feminism in college, and I came to realize later that I was expected to see the universality of our woman experiences rather than examine the ways that my brown experience diverged from theirs in so many ways.

Three years after I graduated from college, I met my partner, Sam. Sam heard my voice on a podcast and fell in love. He wrote me love letters. He told me he intended to marry me shortly after our first conversation. He became my best friend. Sam is the product of 1 British colonial and 1 Canadian. He is a religious studies scholar, an adamant atheist, and does not identify with having a sexual orientation. He’s culturally white. He’s phenotypically white. His eyes are the color of a lagoon I saw once in Rarotonga. He has a British accent. He was named after a Lord of the Rings character. He is “ by all accounts “ white.

When we met, I was approaching the zenith of my critical race analysis. After years of dealing with my internalized racism, being critical of whiteness, trying to find my place at the table, I meet and fall in love with the whitest white man in the white world. We spent hours deconstructing Christianity, and he managed to push me into full apostasy mode. We spent hours talking about economics, and he convinces me that socialism isn’t bad (despite what my grandparents taught me). We spent hours talking about moving out of the United States, when my grandparents risked everything to immigrate to the US so that their children and grandchildren would have a better life. This throws my racial identity into another crisis. I already can’t speak Spanish very well! And now I’m a potential expatriate atheist with socialist leanings? Am I even Latina anymore?

The answer is: yes, of course. I was raised in a Mexican home with Mexican people. My culture is in me. It’s in the way that I think, the food that makes me feel good, the ability to decipher Spanglish, the way that I still don’t know the English words for some things, the way that I don’t know any idiomatic phrases in English and I always botch them up (e.g., “well, you’ve got to get back on the wheel and “they robbed me clean). Nowadays, I list “acculturated as one of my identities. And I’ve come to realize that I think of myself as a woman of color more than I think of myself as a Latina or a Mexicana.

All the other stuff is still really confusing, but I try to tell myself that it’s ok to like what I like. It’s ok not to eradicate every last bit of the “white stuff I like because maybe I’m reclaiming something. I raise my voice and my keyboard in opposition to the racism I see, and maybe that’s enough for right now.

Good Vibrations

Good Vibrations is the premiere sex-positive, women-principled adult toy retailer in the US. An iconic brand and one of the world's first sex toy shops to focus specifically on women's pleasure and sexual education, Good Vibrations was founded by Joani Blank in 1977 to provide women with a safe, welcoming and non-judgmental place to shop for erotic toys. Good Vibrations has always included all people across the gender spectrum, and is a place where customers can come for education, high quality products, and information promoting sexual health, pleasure and empowerment. Customers can shop Good Vibrations' expertly curated product selection across any of its nine retail locations or on the GoodVibes.com website, where they can also find a wealth of information pertaining to sexual pleasure, exploration and education.

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