"At the heart of every culture is a set of experiences which members hold not onto to be worth practicing, but also necessary to maintain and transmit to those who follow. In the case of a sexual subculture, one often has only one way to do this: by embodying the traditions. …The subculture and the virus require the same processes for transmission"
—
Paul Morris “No Limits: Necessary Danger in Male Porn” (1998) quoted in Tim Dean’s Unlimited Intimacy (2009)
There is a very similar question of intergenerational transmission of disease and knowledge among IDUs. I remember a harm reduction seminar about 15 years ago recommending that young people be discouraged from getting high with older people to protect themselves from HIV. The argument seemed to be that the older IDUs were only acting as a reservoir of HIV and HCV, and were not also a reservoir of practical and historical knowledge and culture (because that role should belong to harm reduction organizations).
But I’ve been thinking specifically about how the knowledge and culture of sexual identity is transmitted from one generation to the next, and the role that sex plays. “Unlike other cultures, nobody is born into or inherits queer culture: it becomes one’s "own” culture only through modes of invention and appropriation" (Dean, Unlimited Intimacy). So there is always a question of transmission of or induction into queer culture.
I think the experience may be different for girls than it is for boys. When I was a teenager, I did a lot research, read a lot of books. Combing through used books stores for whatever I could find – Audre Lorde and Joan D Vinge, Weetzie Bat and City of Night. A battered copy of the Penguin Book of Homosexual Verse. A Maximum Rock and Roll piece on the history of the word punk.
And I think a lot of boys scoured films for coded references (as described in the Celluloid Closet). But a lot of boys in my cohort also had a more hands on introduction. I heard a lot of stories that ranged from objectification (think Queer as Folk UK) to frank abuse. And I got the impression that that was a lot less common between women. When I was a teenager, the women I had sex with were in my age group – friends from high school, women I met at the Mix (an all-ages gay club in Berkeley), fellow college students. And that seemed to be pretty strictly enforced. Older women were not interested in me. Which was an important way to protect young women, but also left me invisible to the larger lesbian community. Older women were pretty openly dismissive, making it clear that they didn’t considered me old enough to be taken seriously. And while the spaces that catered to gay men were inappropriately lax about checking IDs, lesbian bars and clubs seemed to go too far in the opposite direction, and I several times had to talk my way into places that I had legitimate ID showing I was old enough for.
In a very frustrating episode my first week at college, a 20-year-old I met at an MIT dance took me back to her dorm room, and then recoiled in horror when she found out I was 17. We spent the rest of the night respectfully cuddling in her too-small bed.
(Though part of my problem might have been Boston/ San Francisco 2nd wave/ 3rd wave culture shock – I was young, bisexual and the wrong kind of androgynous. Often mistaken for a scruffy, long-haired guy. I was later told that no real lesbian would believe that Djuna and I were a couple, since we didn’t look like [Boston-style] lesbians.)
The issue of how important sex (and specifically the pick-up scene) is to queer community is something I’m still chewing on, as a bisexual woman in a monogamous straight relationship. And honestly, most of the sex and relationships I’ve had with women (aside from that brief period of picking up girls at the Pacific Center and the Mix when I was 17) have been related to Rocky Horror, Goth clubs, or the drug scene of the Lower Haight – outside of any kind of official queer space.