As a bisexual bdsmer, I'm kind of uncomfortable putting BDSM under the umbrella of queerness in a political context. In a literary/cultural context, sure, a story about a person who practices BDSM could obviously deal with a lot of queer themes, and be read in a queer studies class. But when we're talking about politics, and, by extension, real peoples' real lives, I'm uncomfortable saying that the experience of being a BDSMer is anywhere near as politicized or as marginalizing as the experience of a GLBT person.

Why? Because when I'm talking to a co-worker, family member, teacher, etc, sometimes I want to tell a story about my girlfriend and say that she's my girlfriend without a lot of drama involved -- whether that means them saying "ohhh, I didn't know you were..." or asking me questions about whether I'm bi or gay, or just trying to act extra understanding and friendly for the rest of the day to make sure I know they're "okay with it." I don't get to do that. Now, I don't get to openly talk about my Master either, but the difference is that I don't *want* to, and neither do most other BDSM folks I know.

I know I'm going to get jumped for saying this, but for most of us, BDSM is about eroticism. That doesn't mean that it's ALL ABOUT SEX -- I know that a lot of the things my husband and I do as a D/s couple aren't automatically sexual and don't always happen in the bedroom or immediately before and after sex. But even when it's something "innocent," I think the primary purpose of almost all BDSM behaviors is to play on and enhance the eroticism of the relationship itself, or just of the particular moment you're in, in the case of people playing outside of a relationship. Some people are interested in talking about their erotic lives with everyone, all the time, but for most of us, part of what makes it exciting is the fact that it's relatively private. In fact, for exhibitionists/voyeurs, humiliation sluts, the erotic blackmail community, and a lot of other categories of BDSMers, the thrill actually originates from the fact of participating in an activity that isn't considered socially acceptable or appropriate for public viewing.

Unlike BDSM, being queer is *not* just about eroticism -- it can just be about wanting to go out to a movie with someone you have a crush on, not about what you're doing when the lights are out. And honestly, the people I've known who are most adamant about wanting the right to talk about BDSM whenever, wherever have generally seemed like the sort of straight, white, privileged young man who really wants to be able to argue from a place of oppression.

I admit to also being kind of amazed by the juxtaposition of the context and the article, which is about queer teachers coming out to their students. Honestly, I think it's entirely the teacher's business whether they're comfortable coming out or not. No one should have to come out in order to educate or be a role model for someone else. On the other hand, does anyone think it's a good idea for a teacher who does BDSM to "come out" to his/her students? To me it seems like a nightmare. Give one harsh lecture and all of a sudden you'd be accused of sexual harassment for trying to sexually dominate your students. Honestly, when I'm teaching I don't mind if my students know that I like to go out with women, but I'd really rather not have them thinking about what I like to do in bed with them.