Queering Our Sustainable Future

 
 

Every year when June 1st rolls around, baddies everywhere wake up in a cloud of their own rainbow glitter, jump out of bed, and break out into a musical theatre rendition of “Silk Chiffon” by MUNA. This year’s pride weighs heavier for many of us in the community and especially those of us who occupy space in places where queer and trans rights are endangered. As right-wing conservatism attacks not only our planet but also our freedoms and our protections, there is a lot on our minds this pride month. 

What many of these lawmakers and critics don’t understand is that as much as they fear it or run away from it, queerness is all around us. Nature is gay af, baddies. We see queerness in animal communities, plant systems, and through the perseverance of our wild and natural world. By applying a queer lens to our approach to sustainability, we can find pathways to create a more sustainable and eco-friendly future for all. That being said, if you take only one thing from this article, we hope it is a reminder that your queerness will always have a place because queerness is natural. And while we all find community in protecting and preserving Mother Nature, let’s not forget to do so for one another as well. 

What is Queer Ecology? 

 
 

If this is the first time you have ever heard of queer ecology, the concept is rooted in indigenous ideas. The term itself only recently made its way into the mainstream. Queer ecology in academia is derived from ideas of ecofeminism, originated by the scholar Vandana Shiva. In simple terms, ecofeminism is the belief that the root cause of our current climate crisis is gender inequality. Queer ecology builds on ecofeminism by looking at the root cause of the climate crisis outside of a binary. Queer ecology is a way of examining the planet through a lens of gender and sexuality, furthering the idea that queerness is natural, and argues that binary, heteronormative, and patriarchal views on our planet and climate cause more harm than good. 

Queer ecology was first written about by Catriona Sandilands, Professor of Art and Environmental Justice at York University. Originally, Sandilands used queer ecology to ask why, in Western theory, queerness was at odds with nature while we held straightness as aligned with nature. Queer ecology is a tool to help understand our natural world better and to seek more fluid and diverse methods for climate action. Queer theorists argue that not only is queerness natural, but we are living on a very gay planet, and queerness is all around us (slay). Through the application of queer ecology, we queer* our understanding of our planet, find answers to some of our largest climate questions, and reach sustainable eco-solutions.

*We are using queer as a verb in this context as a way to reimagine or re-interpret conventional ideas and actions through a fluid and subversive lens “that rejects both the normal and norms as a matter of principle, particularly but not entirely limited to matters of sex, gender, and sexuality.

 

Why is the earth so gay?

 
 

Society has worked hard to apply binary and heteronormative theory to our natural world, however, queerness is evident (ahem, we are here & we are queer), and more biologists, ecologists, and environmental activists are uncovering examples of queerness in nature. Queer ecology may be a new concept in a theoretical sense, but its roots are as old as the earth.

Many of us grew up thinking of our planet as a binary: the Earth as Mother Nature and man as conquering the Earth. However, this binary thinking excludes the aspects of our ecosystem that exist outside of this binary, and the binary itself is harmful. Operating under the patriarchal assumption that our planet is in need of conquering has led to harmful land practices for generations. When we break down the binary way of thinking, we can disrupt this colonial narrative. Indigenous ideas like two-spirit (an indigenous expression of gender, spirituality, and social roles) prove that queerness is deep within our planet and our people. We see binary breakdowns even further in species like the clownfish, an animal that can go from being male to female later in life simply to create offspring. Additionally, chimera butterflies, lobsters, and cardinals are all animals that display asymmetrical coloring, which illustrates a natural non-binary identity. These animals, in all their creative and colorful expressions, are proof that our natural world exists outside of a binary (slay). 

We can queer our understanding of nature by admiring animal communities that exist outside of heteronormative ideas. None of us will forget when Leslie Knope accidentally married two male penguins and became a gay icon on Parks and Recreation. Leslie wasn’t totally misguided. Gay penguins do exist, and so do gay giraffes, lizards, dolphins, foxes, and so many more. While many species are able to copulate with animals of the same sex, animals don’t only display homosexuality through mating behaviors; some even create long-term partnerships with other sexes. These identities are both present and essential to many species' social organization, development of hierarchy, and ultimately, their survival. 

How can we apply queerness to sustainability? 

 

Queer Nature – Meet Co-Founder Pınar Sinopoulos-Lloyd

 

As susty baddies, we can implement queer ecology in our sustainable eco-practices. We can queer our everyday interactions with nature by rejecting the idea of a binary environment, approaching our food systems with queerness in mind, replacing harmful heteronormative familial ideas with new definitions of community, and embracing our roots in nature. 

First thing first: we have to reject the earth as binary. This doesn’t mean that we can no longer call our planet Mother Earth and our ecosystem Mother Nature, but it is expanding what the term “Mother” means. In a binary, Mother is viewed as solely feminine, but when we queer the binary, Mother can simply mean “caretaker and protector.” Within patriarchy, the feminized Mother is beholden to a role defined by society and controlled by a male partner. Outside of a patriarchal framework, Mother arguably holds more agency. However, when we apply a non-binary lens to Mother Nature, we instead see a planet that sustains us and keeps us safe that we should care for in turn. 

Next, we can examine how we live within heteronormativity. Many of us can remember the first time we played house or thought about a wedding. Some of us may have scoffed at these ideas from a young age, but others (no shame) found comfort in existing within these norms of heterosexuality. However, queer ways of living have already disrupted the single-family unit concept in the US and have illustrated less wasteful, more eco-friendly ways of existing. Queer people have created chosen families for years in order to survive. While some may reflect roles similar to heteronormative expectations (a house Mother), others have taken on completely new imaginations. Queering domesticity uproots values of the white picket fence (surprise! Lawns are incredibly bad for the environment!) and promotes a life where space is shared more freely as in cohousing models. Queer communities and families illustrate a way of living where resources are communal and lack hierarchy. 

Our food systems can also benefit from queer ecology. Queer farming is a method of slow agriculture where farmers work in unison to act against hierarchy, gaining popularity all over the country from Iowa to San Francisco, to Seattle Other examples of queering our agriculture system include applying regenerative and circular methods of agriculture —seeing every plant, animal, crop, and resource as essential to the entire system instead of keeping elements separated and relying on artificial or chemical forms of fertilizing and feeding. A focus on feeding communities directly, building safe spaces for all who work and live on these farms, and creating non-hierarchical economic systems set these farms apart from the mainstream. Most of us do not live or work on a queer farm, but we can queer our food systems by buying our food locally from queer farms.

Finally, we must accept ourselves as natural. Ultimately, we have all struggled to fit comfortably within our identities, especially when our identities are at odds with the status quo. However, queer ecology reminds us that we are all nature too. Our queerness is simply a reminder that something normative needs to be reimagined. Our natural landscape continues to fight against the artificial and the manmade. The vines that scale brick buildings, the trees whose roots break up our highway asphalt, or the weeds that make their way through our cracked sidewalks are all examples of living beings persevering. A queer planet rejects hierarchy and instead welcomes an unbridled reality where all of us are surrounded by overflowing wildflowers and wild grass pastures that we share with other animals too. We’re lucky to have the opportunity to listen to our planet tell us what it needs from us in order to feel safe, empowered, and fulfilled. 

Now tell us: What does your queer future look like?