Mapping Pleasure Activism Lineages
When was the last time you paused to think about what makes you feel good? The truth is not many of us do, especially those engaged in community organizing. Even the thought of it feels misplaced. In the book Pleasure Activism: The Politics of Feeling Good, author, adrienne maree brown, defines pleasure activism as "the work we do to reclaim our whole, happy, and satisfiable selves from the impacts, delusions, and limitations of oppression and/or supremacy." For organizers, this work is often pushed to the bottom of our to do lists, if it even makes it on to the list to begin with.
I spend most of my days thinking about the pit in my stomach, which recently has revolved primarily around my interactions with whiteness within academia and the implications it continues to pose on social justice education. Although I will always encourage building critical consciousness around the oppressive systems that contribute to these feelings of shame and the violence it carries, I am becoming increasingly aware of how debilitating feelings of overwhelming despair can be while doing this work.
Pleasure Activism has encouraged me to take necessary pauses. brown names the contributions of radical Black feminists who have made incredible contributions to her journey in learning, understanding and knowing what pleasure meant for her. She mentions the work of Audre Lorde, Joan Morgan, Cara Page, and others in a series of thoughtful conversations. I love this book because, in addition to poems, interviews, and essays, it also provides "Hot and Heavy Homework" prompts for introspection and personal reflections.
For this article, I followed the prompt (see below) from the chapter: Who Taught You To Feel Good?
I asked some of the women in my life to take part in this exercise with me. There was a particular response in one of my conversations with my friend that related to all of us. When asked about pleasure lineages and who taught her to feel good, my friend said, "there is not much lineage stuff here, it was all denied." As daughters of the Eelam Tamil diaspora, tracing our violently displaced lineages intertwined with intergenerational trauma isn't an easy task. To think about pleasure in relation to that was hard to place. However, it was crucial for us to collectively name the Tamil Genocide as a factor in our understanding that our pleasure activism lineages were impacted by state violence, especially through the impact it had on our parents and grandparents. The only conversation I ever remember having about intimacy with my grandmother was when I asked her why she had so many kids. Her answer was: "If I knew about my options for contraception, trust me, I would have taken it." I remember laughing with her afterwards, but the conversation never continued. Pleasure has always been a difficult topic to address at home and even among certain social circles. I found this to be a common issue among my friends who had some trouble naming where they learned how to feel good. Some mentioned being at the very beginning of this journey. Others described this journey as an individual one.
Here are some of their reflections:
Vino, V., 30:
"To me, pleasure means liberation. It is about indulging pleasure guilt-free, like eating chocolate. Pleasure make me curious and allows me to explore my likes and dislikes and set boundaries accordingly. Pleasure should be boundless but it is bounded by stigma, taboo, cultural conservatism that are all by-products of colonialism and patriarchy. I was 13 when I got my first period and I remember my mother laying down a series of rules that I need to abide by as a woman. "Don't sit next to your brothers," "You can't sit on appa's lap anymore," "You can't wear shorts, you can't wear skirts, you need to cover yourself, and behave like a lady." So, at my grade 8 grad dance, a boy wanted to dance with me, very innocent, but my mom popped into my head. And I remember my friends telling me to go dance with the boy because he likes you, but I didn't. I denied myself of the pleasure of dancing with a boy and experiencing my first dance. I used to watch The Adam's Family on TV, when it was a show. And I liked how Morticia was. From what I can remember, she is confident, knew what she want from her husband, and allowed her to be pampered and experience pleasure. Now, I was like 10 or 11, when I first really understood what pleasure might look like. But I didn't start exploring until I was 16 or 17. But even, I felt guilty and wrong for feeling pleasure. Now I know, pleasure of any kind, allows you to understand and get to know who you are better."
Sahana, G., 27:
"I obviously have you and some of my other friends to thank when I think about who taught me how to feel good. I remember some of the first conversations with my friends about masturbation. I literally felt the guilt leave my body at that very moment. That was when I knew it was okay and normal. Everyone does it. I also learned through conversations with friends certain standards I should have for myself when exploring my sexuality. For example, I had a friend who once told me not to go down on a guy if he wasn't going to return the favour. I think that reflection changed how I maintain power in my intimate relationships. But outside of intimacy, I also think about pleasure or trace pleasure around how I feel in my platonic relationships. When I spend time with people who don't adhere to societal beauty standards and have done their own unlearning I feel a sense of liberation that I don't feel in other places. I guess that's what we mean when we talking about wanting safe spaces. And on the flip side, I love spending time alone. For example, after spending the day with loved ones, my heart always feels so full and content when I drive home by myself. I also have to admit that sometimes I fall into the trap of capitalism and buy things that I think will make me happy. And some do, books for instance, but I also reflect on how this feeling wasn't possible for me before coming into some disposable income. These are barriers that some folks experiences and I know that I have experienced before now. But pleasure activism feels different than the privilege that we don't talk about about what we widely accept as self-care."
Pugazh, 26:
"Pleasure for me is a topic that continues to be one that's exploratory. Pleasure initially was not pleasure on my own terms. Rather, my initial conceptualization of pleasure was what was expected of me in a relationship. I would say being in my first relationship, there was definitely pressure placed on me to experience pleasure through the satisfaction of my counter. Additionally, there was this expectation that the male counter directs my pleasurable experiences. However, there was always this underlying realization that this concept of pleasure, one that was based on the other persons enjoyment was limiting and outright oppressive. To make things a bit more intersectional, there were also the components of asexuality and gendered expectations that I had to work through simultaneously. My understanding of feeling good was a journey that came through self-acceptance and self-realization. Where I directed when I wanted to engage in pleasurable moments and when I did not. Through setting boundaries and acceptance of the physical state. Through the process of unlearning hetero-hegemonic norms of sexual freedom, I was able to experience pleasure on my own terms. What made me feel good, what things I needed in pleasure based relationships and authentically exploring that without hesitation and through transparency whether that was with myself or with someone else. It's gotten me to a point where I can out right tell myself or the other person that I need to get dicked down. Those often taboo conversations became ones that I initiated. My confidence in my understanding of pleasure is rooted in one particular individual. That individual is me."
I encourage folks to take some time over the holidays to trace their own pleasure activism lineages. And a gentle reminder to folks who may have trouble doing this activity: It’s never too late to start actively thinking about pleasure and what feels good for you.