Welcome to Queer Mathematical Musings, the official blog of The Queer Mathematics Teacher! For our first blog post, I feel it’s important that I explain why I often use the term “queer”  when discussing LGBTQ+ people and issues (though I do often use “queer” and “LGBTQ+” interchangeably, when talking about the broader issues of LGBTQ+ identity). To do that, we need to take a brief look at the messy history of the word queer in relation to LGBTQ+ identities.

Before the late 1800s, the word “queer” typically was used as an adjective to describe something (or someone) that was “odd” or “strange” [1]. The first recorded use of queer in a pejorative sense has ties to the trial of famous playwright Oscar Wilde in 1895. Wilde had been carrying on a relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas, the son of the Marquess of Queensberry. Queensberry was convinced that his eldest son (Lord Alfred Douglas’s brother), had committed suicide due to his alleged same-sex relationship with Archibald Primrose, the Earl of Rosebery. Given this greater context, it came as no surprise that Queensberry was enraged to learn of his other son’s same-sex relationship with Oscar Wilde. In a personal correspondence he described his sons as being corrupted by “Snob Queers like Rosebery.” He would later try to confront Wilde, but after being rebuffed, he instead publicly described Wilde as a “Sodomite.” Wilde charged Queensbury with criminal libel, which eventually backfired and led to Wilde’s arrest and conviction under England’s archaic sodomy laws [2]. You can read more about Oscar Wilde’s trial here.

Following Queensberry’s letter, the term “queer” began to be used more frequently as a perjorative to describe LGBTQ+ people. While there were a small group of gay men in the 1910s and 20s, particularly in NYC, who defiantly adopted the word to describe their attraction to other men, for the majority of the LGBTQ+ community the word would remain a slur until well into the second half of the 1900s, when LGBTQ+ activists began their reclamation of the word [3].

The reclamation of the term “queer” can be traced back to (at least) the 1969 Stonewall Riots, when queer activists began working to reclaim the term under the banner of queer liberation. This reclamation eventually gave birth to the adoption of slogans such as “We’re here. We’re queer. Get used to it.” [4] Though the queer liberation movemement would later be co-opted by those pushing for social acceptance of “respectable” queers (read: cisgender, white, employed, middle class gay men and women…because white supremacy), queer people of color (QPOC), such as transgender activists Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson, were at the forefront of the queer liberation movement at its birth in 1969. These QPOC argued that for true liberation, the oppressive normative values upheld by society and its institutions would need not only be contested, but be completely brought down [5]. These ideas of contesting the norm would later appear as the basis of queer theory, which holds that identity is not fixed but is ever evolving. Queer theorists hold that identity is reproduced/created in our everyday interactions and is interpreted through our social and cultural contexts [6].

In my own writing I use queer in two ways – first as a descriptor of other LGBTQ+ people, when used in a broader sense, and second as a descriptor of my own LGBTQ+ identity. Like the authors at Learning For Justice (formerly Teaching Tolerance), I often use queer in reference to the larger LGBTQ+ community to honor the work of the QPOC activists that came before me and to acknowledge the diversity of gender and sexual identities that exist within the broader community [4]. I recognize, however, that there are some individuals within the community, particularly those of older generations, that do not embrace the umbrella term of queer. This is understandable, given the pain it has caused the community in the past [3]. For this reason, it is essential not to assume that all LGBTQ+ people are comfortable with the term “queer.” Allies (as well as those of us within the community) must seek to understand the terminology/language that each LGBTQ+ person in their lives uses to describe their identity and to honor their unique experiences of that identity.

My second usage of the word “queer” is in relation to my own LGBTQ+ identity. Like queer theorists, I believe that as I move through life, my queer identity will continue to evolve in different directions and to reveal new pieces of myself. The identifier of queer provides space for this sort of evolution because it has less rigid boundaries than that of “lesbian,” “woman,” “gay,” “straight,” and other categories for gender and sexual orientation [7]. Queer is like taking a breathe of fresh air in a field of open space, in a world that has sought to confine me in its various little boxes. For me, the identifier of queer reminds me to continue to interrogate the normative structures in my life, to always question the world around me, and to continue on my journey of growth and self reflection. Queer serves as a form of resistance, an ideal, a mantra, and a dream of a future in which we are free to simply be.