Thursday, March 7, 2013

(Queer) industrial feminists: Power and social mobility at what cost(s)?

When one is of queer identity, there are just some parts of preconceived "normality" with which your life's trajectory will never quite fully align, whether by choice or not. A person's queerness is alienating to society that has yet to consider an identity outside of heterosexuality as normal. We are conditioned to see gender and sexual diversities as abnormal at best, even perverse. As a result, many queer communities in history form new "families," or communities of resistance organized to address the need for self care as well as the personal politics that come as a part of their experiences as marginalized individuals. Queer families throughout history have become powerhouses of intellectual thought, direct action organizing, and revolution.

Consider the stories in Annelise Orleck's Common Sense and a Little Fire. Queer industrial feminist activists Rose Schneiderman and Pauline Newman and perceived heterosexual activists Fannia Cohn and Clara Lemlich Shavelson dominate the herstorical expose: from their shared Jewish heritage, influentially Marxist upbringings, and original measures of civil disobedience well into their later years. Upon the rise of communism within the union structures these women crafted, however, an ideological split occurred that permanently destroyed the bonds between Clara, who tied herself to communist ideologies, Fannia, who remained neutral in the hopes of maintaining as much support for her carried cross of union education for women, and Rose and Pauline, who eventually renounced Socialism altogether in support of the Democratic party. Their embittered division could perhaps be chalked up simply to the fact that democratic ideologies vs. communism is essentially reflective of the qualm of reform vs. revolution in the restructuring of the broken parts of society and the law. Rose and Pauline chose reform while Clara sought to revolutionize motherhood for the working class. In addressing the choices these women made in the structuring of their methods and strategies to effect change, it is essential to call into question the nature of their personal lives, specifically their sexualities, in determining why Rose and Pauline could so easily give up socialist rhetoric while Clara clung to it for dear life.

In the first half of the twentieth century, it was rare for anyone to live as we modernly define "out". The rhetoric public health officials and the media were espousing were that of scientific racism and not so subtle hints that abnormality as it was defined then meant genetic inferiority. Rose and Pauline responded to these and other elements of adversity they experienced as intersectionally Jewish, immigrant, queer, female, and members of the working class. They did so through the formation of a cross-class family, a core of female suffragists, industrial organizers, and union broads. They formed a culture of physical, emotional, and intellectual resistance in the face of non-homogenous adversity. And then, most interestingly, they denounced their original political affiliations and stressed cross-class relations amongst women in unions and wealthier suffragettes, most notably Eleanor Roosevelt.

Roosevelt (left) and Schneiderman (center)

Perhaps the times and the many rounds of failure doled out to these two were what made conformity more appealing after severing ties with Lemlich and any affiliation with communism. Schneiderman and Pauline's family of their partners, political friends and allies came to amass legislative power through structures created by the patriarchal system already in place. Requiring short, comprehensive demands such as specific shortenings of hours and increases of wages for domestic and industrial working women allowed them to effectively introduce legislation that ensured their desired changes delivered immediate results to women slaving in factories and in the homes of the elite. These were women who were working unfairly long, exhaustive hours and getting pennies to men's dollars when they performed the same jobs or perhaps more machine-heavy work. In a public sphere created for men, by men, women needed to access the law to rythmically enforce the drum beat of social change so it could be woven into the fabric of society over time. Access to the law was strategically acquired by the women in Rose and Pauline's circle through a camaraderie with those who rose to power, namely the Roosevelts, and through a masculinized campaign. These were women forced into the spheres of male influence, the workforce and the public, and they had to play a clever game. Rose amped her own appeal through her external hyperfemininity, taking care to apply lipstick, wear lacy dresses, and evoking softness. Pauline externally occupied the opposite side of the gender binary and dressed mainly in men's clothing. As a result, she was given less prominent positions and not considered a spokesperson for the industrial feminist movement but had tremendous influence for her time nonetheless. While Rose clung to her femininity, Pauline forcefully distanced herself from such constrictions. In this way, the activism of these two women in particular reflects a growing trend of deradicalization 100 years later in the queer movement. 

Clara chose, despite having a more traditional domestic arrangement, the radical approach to femininity, activism, and motherhood. Her heterosexuality was at odds with her ideological beliefs as she experienced external pressure from her husband and children to provide more of a nurturing role. Clara, interestingly enough, perhaps served as a revolutionary powerhouse because of her extreme living contradiction. A pioneer of radical motherhood, Clara successfully scooped up those women the labor movement failed to address the needs of: working class wives and mothers. True to her roots in the communist party until the end, Clara never offered to water down her ideologies to obtain political power, for she understood thoroughly that as housewives, women were the center of the economic system as consumers and unpaid caregivers. Utilizing the rhetoric of Marx and tailoring it to the needs of women, Clara addressed the structural roots of the problems facing working class immigrant women and organized as a result tremendously successful consumer-based direct action, more often in the form of boycotts. Clara embodied revolutionary mentality crucial to the restructuring of a more intersectionally conscious workforce. 

Interestingly, the Rose and Pauline root seems to be the way of the popular queer movement nowadays, which focuses on gay marriage as a central civil right and milestone in the gay movement. Structurally, queer people are blacked from economic benefits, social safety nets, and a variety of other privileges enjoyed by married couples. But what would Clara Lemlich think today about this focusing of energies towards obtaining the same access to archaic institutions like marriage? There are distinctive parallels to to politicization of queerness then and now. As reflected in mainstream society, the dominant, often white and male leading voices of the gay marriage movement seems to still be calling the shots as to where the focusing of activism should be directed. Queer movements should do well to examine the recent herstory of Clara, Rose, Pauline, and Fannia. The red hunt is long over and yet the stigma of radicalization is still forcing the queer community to act out hidden injuries of gendered, internalized oppression. While the work of Rose and Pauline was tremendously influential, their failure to dismantle the structures in place rests on the newer generations' shoulders. We can either choose what's easy and effective in the short term, or we can rebuild from scratch an egalitarian vison of radical motherhood and achieve queer liberation.




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