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Educators Queering Academia
Critical Memoirs
Series:
Edited By sj Miller and Nelson M. Rodriguez
The memoirs in this collection represent a cross-section of critical reflections by a queerly diverse set of individuals on their experiences inhabiting a variety of spaces within the field of education. In their stories, the authors share how they queered and are continuing to queer the academy in relation to questions of teaching, research, policy, and/or administration. Their memoirs speak across generations of queer educators and scholars; collectively their work highlights an array of theoretical perspectives and methodological approaches. As snapshots in time, the memoirs can be taken up as archive and studied in order to gain perspective on the issues facing queers in the academy across various intersections of identities related to ethnicity, culture, language, (a)gender, (a)sexuality, (dis)ability, socio-economic status, religion, age, veteran status, health status, and more. By way of the memoirs in this volume, a richer body of queer knowledge is offered that can be pulled from and infused into the academic and personal contexts of the work of educators queering academia.
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Chapter Twenty: Being Queer in Academia ←→ Queering Academia
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← 198 | 199 →
CHAPTER TWENTY
Being Queer in Academia ←→ Queering Academia
DANA M. STACHOWIAK
Queer is who I am. It is how I behave. And how I misbehave. Queer is what I embody. Queering is my way of mind, of body, and of soul. Queering is how I work. It is how I disrupt. And it is how I stay sane. This chapter is intended to be queer and to queer. What follows are queer stories of my life and work, experiences of queering and being queer, from my pre-academia life to my current life in academia as an assistant professor of diversity/multicultural education.
BEFORE I WAS AN ACADEMIC, OR, WHEN I WAS A QUEER TERRORIST
“Now, we know you aren’t going to call any media outlets and make a big deal out of this,” he said, hands folded, prayerlike, on top of his oversized cherry desk. His voice was smooth, with every word he said edging slowly over the coil of his southern drawl. He had a serpentine smirk, and he squinted his eyes like he was trying to put me in a trance.
I stared, wide-eyed. Nodded in agreement. I looked at the Bible on the corner of his desk, darted my eyes between his squinted eyes and praying hands. I just kept nodding.
Just like that, the public school district took the conference funding they previously awarded me and pulled...
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