Is Okama Okay?

“it is through language that a person negotiates a sense of self within and across different sites at different points in time”[1]&

I met Minori where else but at karaoke. Having always loved to sing, especially around others who enjoy the hobby just as much as I do, Japan was a great place for me to put to good use all those years of classical voice training. Another friend of mine, Hiroe, told me that she had invited some friends of hers to join our karaoke party, friends who she said “really want to meet you.” I was flattered, but I just assumed that these friends were eager to meet Hiroe’s crazy English teacher and quickly forgot all about the additional guests that night. That is, until Minori walked in. My first impression told me that Minori was a lesbian. With short, spiky hair, no make-up, jeans and a men’s shirt, my experience in the gay and lesbian community helped me identify possible allies. Of course, there is no guarantee that my judgments are always correct.

There was a large crowd that night; 12 of us piled in to a small karaoke box<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[2]<!–[endif]–> complete with orange, vinyl-covered booths, a table set with remote controls for the television and catalogs of songs to choose from, and a large television screen on which to read the song lyrics while we sang. A number of my co-workers from the eikaiwa<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[3]<!–[endif]–> were present and even though we were requested by our employer not to socialize with students, none of us took this stipulation very seriously. The Japanese students, also cognizant of this rule, likewise paid it very little heed; there was an excitement shared by both Japanese and gaijin alike about entering each others’ worlds, becoming a part of each others’ communities.

 After a few songs, Minori looked at me across the table and said “Whole New World…you know it? Disney…Aladdin.”

“Yeah, of course I know it. Duet?” I replied.

“Yeah, but I get to be Aladdin, you can be Princess Jasmine.”

The crowd of teachers and students, on their way to becoming friends, got a kick out of this and before I knew it, the opening bars of the famous Disney duet began. We got plenty of laughs and a round of applause as I did my best diva impersonation; at 5’6”, with a shaved head and dark goatee, dressed in a black shirt, camouflage pants and black army boots, I’m sure it was amusing to hear me sing the part of the headstrong princess.

 When the night had ended, many of us exchanged keitai<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[4]<!–[endif]–> numbers and wished each other ja ne<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[5]<!–[endif]–>as we headed for our train stations. A few days later, Hiroe sent me a text message asking if I would like to celebrate my birthday with her and Minori and a few other friends. After being in Japan for only four months, I was flattered that my new friends would be so thoughtful.

When I arrived at Minori’s apartment for my birthday celebration, our other guests excused themselves to buy food for our party at the supermarket across the street while I stayed behind and chatted with Minori. I’m not sure how it came about, but Minori and I began discussing our sexuality. There was nothing secretive or shocking about it, as Minori was open with all of the friends we were meeting with that night, but I hadn’t said anything about my own sexuality to anyone but Hiroe. A previous encounter with a student-turned-friend and her own tomodachi<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[6]<!–[endif]–> had left me feeling very embarrassed. In retrospect, enthusiastically being outed as gay to a van full of mothers with children should have been a moment of pride for me (proud that my new friend felt so comfortable around me to share this with others), but instead I was mortified as I sat in the back of a van being stared at by three small, smiling Japanese children, one of whom had taken to stroking my arm hair in fascination. This friend followed her announcement of my sexuality with “and he used to smoke marijuana when he was in college.” Never had I so wished for magical powers of invisibility, though by her tone, I could tell she was bragging. Was I a trophy friend?

Anyhow, Minori explained to me that Hiroe was eager to introduce us to each other because both Minori and I were “gay”. I then asked Minori what the word for “gay” was in Japanese.

“Gay,” she replied, straightforwardly.

“No, I mean in Japanese,” I clarified.

“Gay…G-E-I is ‘gay’ in Japanese. We use the English word. It’s like in the word geisha, but that gei means “art”. Though we also use R-E-Z-U or just ‘rezubian’ for women…sometimes ‘homo’…sometimes ‘queer’.”

“Well, if I wanted to use Japanese, what would I say to people?”

“Eh-tou<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[8]<!–[endif]–>,” Minori paused for a moment and then continued, laughing, “I’m not sure, but maybe okama<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[9]<!–[endif]–>?”

And with that, I would begin telling people “Okama desu<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[10]<!–[endif]–>.”

Fast forward two years and while talking with a group of mostly gay, male, Japanese friends I was asked what I say to Japanese people when I want to tell them that I’m gay.

“Okama desu,” I replied. I was met with a few giggles.

“Do you know what okama means?” asked Ryohei.

“Hai, okama no imi wa gei, deshou<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[11]<!–[endif]–>?” I asked.

“Umm, okama usually refers to a ‘queen.’”

I was confused to say the least. I had been telling people that I was okama for two years now. I felt a heat wave of embarrassment. “You mean ‘queen’ as in ‘He’s so fem, he’s such a queen’?”

“So desu<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[12]<!–[endif]–>.”

“So I’ve been telling people that I’m a queen?”

“Well, we don’t usually say okama like that ‘cause it’s slang, you know. Maybe it’s kind of like saying ‘fag’. I think nihonjin<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[13]<!–[endif]–> prefer the English word ‘gay.’”

“When I hear okama I think of drag queens or crossdressers,” added Yutaka.

“Aren’t there any other Japanese words that aren’t English?”

“Doseiai, same sex love” replied Ryohei, “but it sounds so clinical…or medical.”

“Gay is best,” concluded Yoshihiro.

“Well that’s just great. I’ve spent the last twenty-four months telling people I’m a drag queen.”

This last comment was met with laughter. Then a female friend chimed in.

“Only my English-speaking friends know I’m a dyke,” explained Mika.

“What do you mean? Japanese people don’t know the word dyke, or you only tell gaijin that you’re rezu?” I asked, laughing at the intricacies of having to navigate the connotations of not one, but two linguistic systems.

“Well, I think some Japanese know the word dyke, but I mean that I don’t tell many people about it…about me. I think everyone who knows is very progressive. If my friends don’t speak English, I generally don’t tell them.”

Excerpt from forthcoming interview with Folake Abass of the JALT Gender Awareness in Language Education (GALE) sig. More info on viewing the entire interview to be posted soon!

FA: Thank you for agreeing to do this interview with us. To begin with, can you tell us about the research you are doing for your dissertation and where the idea came from?

MH: It all stems from a comment a Japanese friend once made to me. He said, “I’m gay in English, but I’m not gay in Japanese.” This was fascinating to me and then I heard something similar from another friend a few weeks later who said, “Only my American friends know I’m a dyke.” As a result of this, I would now like to understand what the significance of “English” (and here I mean English as a linguistic culture, as a linguistic system, etc) is in the lives of Japanese queer individuals.

FA: Can you tell me what you mean by the significance of “English” as a linguistic system and how does this tie into Japanese queer individuals?

MH: First of all, in this dissertation, the descriptive term “queer” is used to describe non-heteronormative sexual expressions or identities and honours both the recent reclamation of the term and development of queer studies as an academic discipline. In terms of English as a linguistic system and a linguistic culture, I’m referring to Gee’s comment that language teachers teach more than just language (the linguistic system), they teach culture as well (linguistic culture). What then is the significance of the English language itself and the significance of English-speaking cultures in the lives of Japanese who identify themselves as queer, or rather, whose desires are queerly performed?

FA: Can you explain what you mean by “queerly performed”?

MH: When I say desires are “queerly performed”, it’s really quite a loaded statement. Perhaps a better way of putting it would be to say “perform queer desires”. It is suggested that one’s sexuality is partially a performance of one’s desires (sexual desire, desire for power, etc.). For example, if one is a woman who sexually desires other women, then one may perform behaviour that is ascribed to “lesbianism” (Cameron & Kulick explore this in their book, Language and Sexuality). However, to perform lesbianism and to identify oneself as a lesbian are two different things. Whether such desire and performance is strictly socially constructed, I haven’t decided, but what interests me is the role that English plays in such queer performances. English is a symbol system and has unique, multiple and varying significances to each individual that can change over time. For example, “Japanese” means many things to me (people, culture, language, food, etc.) and my idea of “Japanese” has greatly changed since my first encounters with the cultural and linguistic systems and continues to change with the acquisition of new information and each new interaction. Therefore the question remains, for specific individuals, what is the significance of English learning and performance with regards to sexuality?

FA: This all sounds quite fascinating. How would you describe the relationship between Japanese people’s learning experiences especially from an EFL/ESL perspective and their ideas about their sexuality?

MH: Great question! Recently, I interviewed a participant who reported that his motivation to learn English was so that he could meet foreign men. In his mind, he knew he had a desire to be with “white men”, and saw English as his pathway to enabling such a desire.

]]> http://discoveringvoices.wordpress.com/2008/07/05/marlen-is-interviewed-by-folake-abass-of-gale/feed/ 0 marlen http://discoveringvoices.wordpress.com/2008/07/01/re-positioning-queer-identity-as-a-%e2%80%98non-issue%e2%80%99-in-tesol-instruction/ http://discoveringvoices.wordpress.com/2008/07/01/re-positioning-queer-identity-as-a-%e2%80%98non-issue%e2%80%99-in-tesol-instruction/#comments Tue, 01 Jul 2008 05:42:55 +0000 marlen http://discoveringvoices.wordpress.com/?p=42 ]]>

The Closet in the Classroom: Re-positioning queer identity as a ‘non-issue’ in TESOL instruction

Click the link above to read my 2007 manuscript concerning the positioning of queer sexuality in TESOL methods and approaches. Note that my own narrative “The Closet in the Classroom” was originally part of this manuscript.

Learner, Teacher, Foreigner, Queer: A narrative examination of identity performance

The above is a manuscript I wrote as part of an identity course I participated in during my doctoral studies at IUP. The narrative used for consideration was published in the May, 2008 issue of ESL Magazine.

In asking my participants to consider their own voices and selves, I realize that it is useful for me to do the same. My thanks to professors David Hanauer and Sharon Deckert for guiding the ethnographic journeys during their courses.

linguistic-research-and-queer-identities

Here are the slides from my 2007 presentation for the Linguistics Colloquium at Simon Fraser University, an examination of linguistic research ad queer identities.

JALT/JACET2008 Presentation

The above are the slides from my June presentation in Nagoya entitled “Synergistic Collaboration: Language teaching and the transmission of ideas about sexuality“. This presentation examines a hypothetical situation where the inclusion of queer sexuality in the EFL classroom in Japan becomes a point of conflict and opportunity for collaboration.

DISCOVERING VOICES Nagoya Presentation

Thank you for attending today’s discussion of autonomy, language learner identities and sexuality. I’ve posted the slides from the presentation power point above.

Please consider sharing your stories by clicking the SHARE YOUR STORY tab at the top of this page, or by emailing Marlen at m dot e dot harrison at iup dot edu.

Any and all feedback is warmly welcomed!