As a parent of teenage daughters, I often find myself thinking about a Twilight Zone episode called “The Transformation” where everyone, upon reaching adulthood, has their body surgically altered into one of a set of predetermined, “traditionally” physically attractive models. In order to have an ideal society, every nineteen-year-old must choose which model they will become. “The Transformation” also slows aging and makes a few other psychological “corrections' ' to ensure conformity. Model number 12 is so popular among women that all adults wear name badges to avoid confusion.
When our children were younger, there was a cheetah tail pinned to every outfit, mud was for face painting and subway rides were a chance to make strangers wave. I have watched, sometimes proudly and sometimes aghast, as they learn which behaviors, beliefs, physical appearances, and sexual and gender expressions are rewarded, and which ones are not. We may not have a mandatory “Transition” like the episode in The Twilight Zone, but we definitely have a social squeeze machine that shapes and conditions us to be like everyone else. Sometimes (often, really) we get squished, reducing ourselves or diminishing our range of expression to fit it.
I was pondering this last week when we took our daughters to Day Breaker, a multigenerational, alcohol-free, 7 AM dance party. This one was held at Judson Church in Greenwich Village, a community space that, for decades, has opened its doors for civil rights activism and free expression. June is Pride Month, which honors the Stonewall Riots and the advances made by the LGBT community. The dance floor was a rainbow of sequins, boas, gym shorts, and onesies. Think Burning Man at dawn in a church. DJ Elliot LaRue sang over the music, “We are nothing but love.” Two dancers waved silk rainbow flags over the stage. I watched our stiff and self-conscious teenagers soften and begin to move more freely.
Conformity is a survival strategy. We mirror language, habits, speech, diet, and affect in order to create social cohesion, which in turn keeps us physically safe. Our tribal nature has been one of the many reasons we humans have been able to evolve and survive. One could say that conformity is our greatest human strength. But, it is also our greatest weakness.
There is also a downside and nature provides many lessons in this area. Without variety, any ecosystem -- a forest, an ocean, a city - is vulnerable. Monocultures are susceptible to a parasite, an invasive species, or a virus. Diversity is thus paramount to human survival. Plus, makes life much more interesting.
After an hour of sweaty, joyful dancing, DJ Elliot LaRue asked us to make a runway in the middle of the dance floor. A drag performer wearing a pink tank top, a backward baseball cap, and high heels cat-walked back and forth in the aisle we had created. Another performer in a lime green sweatshirt and tie-dye leggings strutted, stopped, and turned ever so slowly, inviting us to lavish her with our approval. A dancer took the microphone and narrated to the beat, “She’s telling her story. Watch her tell her story. She’s telling her story.” Bright yellow light beaming from the stained glass windows lit us up as we cheered them on.
Pleasure is unique to every one of us. For me, there is nothing more pleasurable than being around unapologetic self-expression--what I like to call permission-givers. Permission-givers create a little more space for the rest of us to be less constrained and more ourselves. It’s a beautiful thing to be a permission-giver, but it’s not without risk. Society tends to either deify or vilify those who defy the default switches of our culture. Aligning ourselves with what feels good and right in our bodies can be perceived as indulgent or whimsical. It can also be a radical, political act.
As I looked around me, I thought about how this sun-drenched morning dance gathering would have been illegal only some fifty years ago. We were able to be there because a few brave humans risked jail, torture, exile, and humiliation to express their truth over that of the collective. I thought about the ways where humans, especially from the LGBTQ+ community, are putting their lives, livelihoods, safety, and security on the line to express something other than what our dominant culture allows. I looked over at my daughters who were bouncing along to the music, blissfully unaware of the shoulders upon which we were standing —the trailblazers who made this glitter and love-strewn celebration of gender expression possible.
Of the many desires I have for myself, for my children, and for all of us is that we embrace our diversity--that the transition we encourage as a society is not one of conformity but of fearless self-expression. Pleasure can help make that a reality. It feels good to be among permission givers, and it feels even better to be a permission giver. One of the things I hope to accomplish with The Pleasure Report is to help expand the margins a bit for all of us to pursue that which we desire, that which brings us closest to home.
As the dance came to a close, DJ Elliot LaRue called for a moment of silence to remember Stonewall. “Whether you are a member of the LGBTQ community or an ally, today, we are all a part of history,” he said. The dancer in the pink halter top took the microphone. As a gay teenager, he was bullied until he found the ballroom scene and felt safe to be himself. “One thing I have to say to each one of you,” he said, “is love yourself. Love yourself to the full extent. Don't let nobody try to change you.”
From the Institute of Pleasure Studies,
You can join the Day Breaker community and get a daily dose of joy and dance virtually or in person. They are global, multigenerational, woman-owned, and inclusive in every way.
Daybreaker’s founder, Radha Agrawal wrote a book called Belong: Find Your People about how to live a more connected life.
At the It Gets Better Project, members of the LGBTQ+ community make video messages letting young people know they are not alone.
A great list of LGBTQ Documentaries including Paris is Burning, which brought the ballroom scene to a wider audience, and the Emmy award-winning Before Stonewall: The Making of a Gay and Lesbian Community (1984).
Thank you for reading, supporting, sharing, and writing to let me know what you’re discovering about your own pleasure research.