Margo M. Mahan
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Sluts, Dykes, & Bitches in the U.S. Army

4/21/2016

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I am often asked to convey what I perceive to be the experiences of women in the military - something I have been reticent to do largely because it has felt too personal to process, much less articulate. Personal is scary, scary because it is Vulnerability. Vulnerability can be a beautiful thing. So perhaps personal can be too. Articulating it? The following post is comprised of excerpts from a letter I wrote to a gathering of gender scholars on August 21, 2015 about women in Ranger School. 
. . .

The U.S. Army (or technically, Congress) recently allowed the first group of women in history to attend Ranger School, the U.S. military’s oldest and most elite "warrior class." I think the women actually began Ranger School back in early May. The strange and unforeseen thing that occurred in July however, is that, somehow, I began to give a shit. 

As some of you know, I am a veteran. I was in the Army on active duty for five years and in the active Reserves for three. By all accounts, I had a great career, and was honorably discharged as a Captain in 2010. But the military provided me with opportunities long before I was born. My father volunteered for the (openly racist and segregated) Navy at age 17 during WWII. He was subsequently able to go to college on the GI Bill as a result, where he remained in the Army Reserves. Fortuitously, he graduated from college at precisely the moment that the Army Air Corp became the U.S. Air Force and was seeking a newly existing pool of black college graduates to recruit as Air Force officers on a conditional basis. He was thus an Air Force Lieutenant during the Korean War. All told, the legally racist federal government provided him (and a whole generation of black veterans) an opportunity for upward mobility to black middle-class status (never to be confused with white middle-class status). Not bad for the son of a coal miner who grew up in Appalachia during the Great Depression. Military service opened doors for my father to achieve a potential he and so many others never could have before. It also opened doors for black soldiers and sailors to travel throughout and experience the profoundly fascist America whose "freedom they defended." Military service gave black soldiers and sailors the opportunity to pay the ultimate sacrifice, and if they were lucky, to return home to a nation where their children could not even eat ice cream with white children, and where Japanese American children were for the first time setting foot outside of the "camps" that had been the only home they had ever known. As such, military service engendered the social conditions for black political power and collective social upheaval that came to a roar in the 1960s.

So the military, you see, laid the groundwork for the family, the larger community, the racial politics, and black middle-class status into which I was born. I too joined the military when I accepted an appointment to West Point. Doing so has indeed allowed me to maintain middle-class status in a way that post-Civil-Rights generations of black people have been structurally barred from doing. It allowed me the means to travel the world (as a civilian and as a soldier). And of course, attending a service academy allowed me entry through the doors of status and opportunity that elite universities afford. But like my father, it is precisely my experiences in the military and the larger world to which the military has exposed me that have activated the racial as well as gendered politics that continue to motivate my current life course.

Of my thoughts and feelings about West Point, I have immense clarity. Of the military, however, I remain ambivalent for the reasons sprinkled throughout this letter. Nothing, as you know, is so black and white. Hiroshima and Nagasaki, for example, epitomized the evil of which mankind is capable, obliterating (many with slow excruciating burning deaths) more human beings than the Bosnia Genocide, as well as plaguing their descendants with horrendous gestational deformities. During that war, my father was a gunner's mate on a gasoline tanker in the Pacific Theater. In other words, he lived on a highly volatile floating bomb, an assignment given to Negro sailors when the Navy was forced to integrate its fleet. Considered at the time to be one of the most high-risk assignments, the U.S. Navy made clear that to be Black was to be expendable. The only thing that guaranteed their survival (and thus my gift of life) was Japan's surrender. On the one hand, I am critical of military service (as an ideal, as well as the realities that are often so distant from that ideal), and the alleged justness of war. On the other hand, I am the beneficiary of the opportunities for social mobility that can be significantly life-changing for minority groups and for U.S. race relations as a whole - all at the expense of the atrocities that the U.S. military leaves in its wake across the globe.

But it has been my personal experience as a black woman in the military that has fostered my ambivalence the most. This is perhaps why my July reaction to these female soldiers' journey through Ranger School has surprised me. 

. . .

You see, the identities that get mapped on to women in the military are determined (not surprisingly) through the male gaze. Put differently, the category from which a female soldier must negotiate her reputation is based on her sexual desirability to men. To that end, three dominant categories emerge: sluts, dykes, and bitches. Of course they are rarely named so openly and with such plain language. Indeed, it is precisely the (sometimes) coded language that enables these categories to propagate so ubiquitously.

Sluts: These are female soldiers whom men desire, who are also friendly and approachable. Everyone has either slept with these women or could whenever they want to. Her sexual escapades are so easy to prove because at any given moment you can find her engaged in a conversation with a male colleague* in which she appears friendly and/or is smiling. This is a clear indicator that she is sleeping with him - or more accurately, that he has "fucked her." With sluts, by the time you add up all the rumors, you'll find that they have in fact slept with over 75% of the men on base. One wonders how they are able to get any work done. The mistake sluts often make is to actually be in a relationship with (read: have sex with) a man because that triggers an extrapolation where one confirmed penis lends proof to 100 rumored penises. The worst thing these women can do for their careers, however, is to report the rapes, sexual assaults, or sexual harassment that they will inevitably endure.**

Dykes: Perhaps the most fascinating thing about dykes is that the reality of their sexual identity is totally immaterial. Female soldiers whose presentation of self suggests they have no interest in appealing to men's sexual desire - those are dykes. Typically, they are otherwise "cool chicks," especially when they are rumored to be in relationships with other dykes, which can sometimes become fodder for many amused speculations. The most annoying thing they can do, however, is actually have a relationship with a "slut" instead of a "dyke." That's encroaching onto territory designated For Men Only. You see, with dykes, you'll find that they either secretly want to be men (the logic: anyone who desires women must also want a penis), and so it's important to police their behavior when they step too far out of their lane. Or, you'll find that they secretly want to be desired by men. As such, dyke rumors emphasize their pathetic loneliness for their inability to "get a man," and/or the regret in which they must stew given that their decision to not "try harder" or "make an effort" to be feminine has left them forlorn.

Bitches: These are women whom men may desire, but who outwardly project that they couldn't care less about men's feelings or desires. The paternalism, often tinged with subtle amusement, with which these women are regarded is typically mistaken for Respect. Male colleagues may humor a bitch respectfully enough to her face. But behind her back, her physical attractiveness, nonetheless becomes fodder for critique or crass banter through which men objectify and sexually conquer her, which can become a slippery-slope toward Slutville. Or, her lack of physical attractiveness secretly gets paraded as the impetus behind her bitchiness, which can in turn become a slippery-slope toward Dyketown. No matter her appearance, the rumors that circulate about bitches entail them being professionally shown up or shut down by a male colleague, or being caught in a compromising position in their private lives - basically any story that will knock a bitch down a few notches is the goal.

These categories are fluid for most female soldiers and are not life-long brands by any means. Nor do they erode, necessarily, a female soldier's ability to be successful. Indeed there are plenty of "top notch" sluts/dykes/bitches in key leadership positions. In fact, success pretty much guarantees that a female soldier will not be able to escape one of those tropes, precisely because each trope offers such an easy and simple explanation for her success. The slut slept her way to the top. The dyke was rewarded for "manning up." The bitch emasculated any potential male competition with her bitchiness. Put differently, the slut gave men what they wanted, thus affirming manhood and masculinity. The dyke was rewarded for striking a balance between affirming masculinity without being a threat to manhood. And the bitch was rewarded for (adorably) playing the game on masculine terms thus affirming masculinity. The point is simply that even when a female soldier has escaped from one of those identities, she is never free of them. No matter who she is, or what she achieves, these identities are always walking beside her, haunting her, waiting for the slightest slip-up from which one of them can usurp her reputation - her identity - once more. I spent much of my Army career treading water in the liminal space between Slut and Bitch. Even though I tried (and often failed) to be a Bitch, I eventually gave up, choosing to just be my wonderfully open and approachable self, ergo a bona fide Slut in the eyes of some.

Perhaps the biggest tragedy behind these three identities is their divisiveness - how effectively they foreclose any possibility for Solidary among women. Some women in the Army are convinced that they are exempt from, or fall outside of, these categories and thus misrecognize them as Truths about the flawed characters of the individual women onto whom they get mapped. Too many female soldiers, however, have a latent awareness of their perceived 'status' at any given moment and are nevertheless all too happy to join the chorus of insults or rumors about other female soldiers. I have certainly either remained silent about, laughed at, or added my own quips about some "sad," "unfeminine" female LTC who is "frumpy" and "single" and "has a dog" - blueprint for a Dyke - knowing full-well I've likely been rumored to have slept with ten men that month. I doubt these micro-aggressions typically happen with conscious mal intention, but instead occur at an auto-pilot level of consciousness. I therefore imagine that, after being complicit in the abasement of another female soldier, I have reasoned within the recesses of my subconscious, "Well hell, if she is more of a Dyke than I am a Slut, than I win!" When the respect of one's male soldiers, peers, and superiors is a constant negotiation, any other woman emerges as competition for that respect. And make no mistake, that respect is finite. In a deep-seated culturally white, male, and/or heterosexual space, there is often enough Respect for only one non-white, female, and/or homosexual person. Such is the case for women in the Army. The Slut, Dyke, Bitch triumvirate therefore becomes an excellent tool for a female soldier to throw other female soldiers under the bus in order to claim that finite respect for herself. In doing so, she of course lends more power and legitimacy to the very same oppressive gender ideology that makes respect for female bodies in uniform finite to begin with. In that moment, she wins! But she and all female soldiers simultaneously lose.

Slut. Dyke. Bitch. These are an unfortunate part of the past and present history of women in the military. But on August 21, 2015, women will have the possibility for a new category. Ranger.

Rangers: These are women who, despite being subjected to the tyranny of Slut-Dyke-Bitchdom, were given an historic opportunity, stepped up to the challenge, and have endured, survived, and achieved what the overwhelming majority of (male) soldiers throughout history have not. These women have turned their backs on a legacy wherein it is taken for granted that girls and women will make ourselves smaller to make room for men, listen more and talk less, speak softly and second-guess every word we speak, and constantly feel like imposters for existing in the spaces to which it seems our male peers are entitled. They have proven, once again, that the entrenched practice of shutting women out of positions of power due to our inherent weakness is a warm, smelly load of bullshit, which we prove over and over again each time we are finally given the opportunity to do so. These two women are pioneers, giving birth to the possibility for a new U.S. Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps where women no longer have to negotiate sexualized categories of identity and/or be tolerated for taking up space that rightfully belongs to a (skilled, mediocre, or below average) man.

Yet, I have to pause. In almost any other context, I would regard the flag-waving notion of a new and improved U.S. Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps with either immense skepticism or stark indifference. After all, is it worth celebrating a new frontier for womankind when the ceiling She is breaking elevates her higher into an institution that has been and will continue to be a scourge on women and children's lives across the globe? 

As I continue to contemplate those questions, the fact still remains that I feel an inexplicable need to honor, celebrate, embrace, and express my deepest gratitude to two women who have, by virtue of being their resilient female selves, Healed unrecognized traumas that have taken root in my mind, body, and soul. I need to thank them. I need to hug them. And because of them, for the first time, I and other female veterans have experienced each other as a community where it is safe to cry, heal, smile, laugh, argue authentically, and go deeper in understanding ourselves as individuals, which is only fully possibly when we begin to understand ourselves vis-à-vis each other. For the first time, I have experienced the beauty and strength that is possible when female soldiers and veterans can finally tap in to Solidarity. 

-----------------------------------------------------
*  FYI, the Army is 85% male. Depending on the assignment, a (female or male) soldier can go for weeks without having a conversation with a female colleague.

** During 8 years in the Army/Army Reserves, my personal stats were as follows:

     Medals/commendations: At par
     Prospects for advancement: High
     Selection over peers for competitive assignments: 4 for 4

     
     Rapes: 2
     Sexual assaults: a larger N
     Sexual harassment: lost count after month one
​

     Reported rapes: 0
     Reported sexual assaults: 0
     Reported sexual harassment: 0


     It is the last three stats that made the first three stats possible.
​
. . .
​
Although my purpose in writing the letter was to discuss the experiences of women in the military, it would be a mistake to reduce what I've shared above to a commentary about good vs. bad people, or to isolate it to the military. The military is an institution, comprised not of monolithic things called soldiers, but rather, of a diversity of human beings. Throughout my experiences in the military, I have worked with some of the most intelligent, kind, hilarious, and deeply conscientious people I have known. I have also worked with people who were the polar opposite of those adjectives. But like me, every single one of them, positive or negative adjectives notwithstanding, has been complicit in the devaluation of women, either actively, complaisantly, or through their silence. The same is true for members of every other institution in which I've been a member: family, church, school, sports, corporate America, academia, etc.

I grew up believing, on some level, that Sluts were actually promiscuous; Bitches were actually mean; Dykes actually hated men - and that being a promiscuous, mean, or man-hating woman was worthy of derision, despite the fact that being a promiscuous, mean, or man-hating man was worthy of praise. What then followed from those assumptions was: If you don't want to be called a Slut, close your damn legs! If you don't want to be called a Bitch, talk less and try smiling a little! If you don't want to be called a Dyke, maybe try wearing a dress and some make-up! Inherent in those identities, you see, are some powerful effects. They make us feel entitled to police a woman's conduct, her sensuality, her intelligence, her emotions, her disposition, her overall presentation of self. They give us the power to too easily project "truths" about a woman's behavior and identity that are divorced from the Truths that actually matter about who she fundamentally is as a human being.

When you think of just one woman whom you care about deeply, whose heart you've felt, whose soul you know, that anyone could tag her with a Slut, Dyke, or Bitch label feels like insanity. Nevertheless, there is at least one other person in this world who has, at a point in time, declared as their "truth" that she is unquestionably one of those. As long as we allow the Slut, Dyke, Bitch identities to overshadow the humanity of one woman, they remain available to overshadow the humanity of any woman - our mothers, our wives, our sisters, our aunts, our youngest daughters - no matter how much she suppresses her sacred sensuality, how convincingly she smiles to mask her pain, or how unconditionally she Loves, even when it is not returned. So yes, my letter pertained to women in the military, but only because the military has a unique way of amplifying the norms and practices of the society it serves. 
1 Comment
Deborah Lustig
4/21/2016 11:48:31 am

This is so beautifully written, and smart, and sad. And I am glad you see glimmers of hope and possibility. I appreciate you sharing your experiences and you making the links from those experiences to the broader structures of the institution and our society.

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For the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.
AUDRE LORDE, 1979
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