Substitute Men..

I was over on Jasmyne Cannick’s site reading  a couple of pieces she’s written on Perpetrating Lesbians. Let me start by saying, I enjoy reading Jasmyne’s articles.  She covers a multitude of topics around issues effecting the black community. She keeps it basic, real and her perspective is usually on point.  We seem to have a few things in common which always makes the read a bit more interesting for me. I can identify.

In her piece on Perpetrating Lesbians she talks about women who look for love in lesbian relationships who really aren’t lesbian. They’re using women to fill a void left by their abusive, incarcerated or otherwise absent men. How does this happen? What’s up with the studs/aggressive women who accept this and date these types of women knowingly?  These are questions asked in the article which got me thinking about my own experiences.

I was very young during the mid-seventies, at a time when everything revolved around sex, drugs and funk.  I don’t know if it was this post hippie era or what, but my friends and I were very sexually active and aware.  We were always playing some type of game that involved feeling on each-other. Whether it was hide and go get it, house or doctor, I was always doing something inappropriate to some other little girl.. and I was ALWAYS the boy. By the time I was 12, I was fooling around with my “babysitter” who was a sixteen year-old girl who lived in my apartment complex.  We were frequently left alone and it was immediately on and crackin…

Age 12 is also when I found myself in the California Youth Authority- a junior prison for felons between the ages of 12 and 25. I was sentenced to 8 years 6 months (age 21) for Grand Theft Property and Possession of a Firearm. It was the height of gang activity in Los Angeles and I was doing my best to fit in.. If you live in the hood, if you’re an inner-city urban youth, chances are you’re not unfamiliar with incarceration. Either you’ve been to jail or you know someone who has been or both.  We know black men are among the highest population in prison. And we know recidivism rates are extremely high.

Now, when I hit CYA, I was the youngest in the institution. I was scared, impressionable, alone and thrown directly into the mix with seasoned criminals, some of which were almost old enough to be my parents. The price you pay for trying to run with the big dogs, right? Right. This was the first time I’d ever seen butch women. In fact, these women looked so much like men I thought I was in a co-ed housing unit. Aside from being scared out of my mind, I was intrigued by these women, by their style, their swagger, their presence. Somehow I knew “playing house” had graduated 10-fold.

Needless to say, jails and prisons have their own social constructs, their own social codes, cliques, rules of the game. While the men fight and kill each-other over territory, rival gang affiliations and issues of respect, the women are busy doing what women do – forming family ties. Whole families are formed with play fathers, mothers, sisters etc. It’s a social order with the same type of hierarchical structure you’d see within any organization.  What becomes immediately evident is that respect is the core value. Those who have the most, get the most and enjoy the best of EVERYTHING. Period. Stud is a term used to identify the dominate male (figure) of the group. Studs are the more physically aggressive, dominate ones whose predominate responsibility is to protect the femmes of the family. There is a time to stand out from the crowd and express your own individuality. Jail time is not when you do that. It’s when the term ‘get in where you fit in’ takes the most serious meaning.

I had a conversation with my father once (Am I ever going to get to the point? Yes, I’m getting there. I take the long road around then tie all the points together at the end. Thank you.). He was reflecting on his new-found experience as a grandfather.  He said the baby would lay next to him while sleeping and as long as the baby felt my father’s presence when he reached out, he would continue sleeping contentedly.  If, for some reason, he reached out and did not find my father, he would wake up immediately crying.  My father said women were very much like this. Always testing, checking. Checking to see if you’re man enough. Testing to see how far they can push the envelope before making you completely black out. My experience with the women in jail was no different.  You’re constantly being put to the test to see how you handle the pressure and the confrontation; how well you man up. When presented with a challenge, you only have two choices, you either rise to the occasion or you lower your wing. Lower your wing too many times and you find yourself at the bottom of the pecking order, getting punked on a regular basis.

Part of the pursuit for power and respect among the studs, of course, is the ability to pull women (turn straight women out).  Men are in short supply, so the studs become stars. The more you emulate men, the more attention you get which often reaps additional rewards.  How many of the women in jail are actually lesbians before they get there? How many would be lesbian on the streets had their identities not developed within the confines of incarceration, where women seek out other women for comfort, companionship & protection?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that young studs are groomed to be more aggressive, more masculine and better substitute men.  They are often lavished with packages, commissary, money on their books from the families of their psuedo-lesbian femme partners.  They have responsibilities and reputations to uphold.

What happens after you’ve spent years developing this persona and you get out of prison/jail and re-enter society? We know most go back to the same communities. I did.  I was paroled to a foster home right off of Crenshaw and 43rd. Leimert Park. I went to the gay/lesbian clubs – Peanuts, Jewels Catch One, where I saw all the same studs I’d done time with, still maintaining their hardcore images. Most parolees violate and go back to jail. The worst thing that could happen is that someone from the streets goes back to prison telling everyone there how they saw you in the club with your ‘come f* me’ boots on, thus shattering your hardcore image and killing your respect as a dominate male (figure). 

Most men don’t like to be touched in certain ways, right? If you, as a woman, can engage a man in anal sex, his sexuality is often questioned.  The same generally holds true for those studs coming from that jailhouse mentality, where it’s not cool to be sexually or  emotionally vulnerable. What IS looked at as cool is your ability to turn a straight woman out. You’ve got “game” then.  If you can get 2 or 3 women checking for you, stacking your commissary, keeping you dressed fresh, then being a substitute man is just part of the game, minimized and often over-looked. If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.. or so the saying goes. Unfortunately, a lot of the jailhouse social norms carry over into the streets, in our black lesbian communities and in the hood, period.  You can always recognize the brotha that just got out of the pen right?  He walks hardcore. He looks hardcore. He spray starches everything from his shoe laces to his sweatshirts – pleated and creased to the max.

Black men go to jail at alarming rates. Black women are or were following suit, leaving a lot of otherwise straight women looking for alternatives to loving relationships.  They see us out there, studs – aggressive, dominate lesbian women. However we’ve adopted our roles, our swagger, our presence and our charm is undeniable. We turn heads. The issue is learning how to recognize and separate yourself from that jailhouse overly dramatized personality. I don’t know what’s happening in the gay/lesbian clubs these days. It’s been a good 10 years since I was on the scene. I imagine there are still a good number of studs there who were once incarcerated or who have been influenced in some way by those who have.

When  I got out, I got away and spent some time trying to discover who I am outside of the institutional setting.  I tried to make the whole ideal “straight life” work, buying into the idea that I was only lesbian because I’d been incarcerated. I know that isn’t true for me. I love women. I experimented with men.  Sometimes it takes a bit of experimentation to discover what you really want and like.

So in conclusion I’ll say – don’t judge too quickly.  You never know what a person has gone through to get where they are, in life or in their sexual expression. Take some time to discover yourself outside of ego and the survival instinct. Try something new. Be open to change and lastly, don’t make someone else your priority, when you’re only an option.  Which means, don’t settle for being a substitute – anything.

Hollaaaaaa.