Queer As In Fuck You Tarot Spread
For constructive individuation. For resisting assimilation. For mighty elseing.
“Not gay as in happy, queer as in fuck you!”
1. Queer: How I diverge from the dominant culture.
2. X 3. As X In (Perception): How my queerness colors how I meet others.
X How my queerness colors how others meet me.
4. Fuck: Something to mess with—to joyously bend, warp, play with, or break down through my queerness.
5. You: Something to leave to others. A point not to assimilate into.
NOTES:
This spread is for drawing distinctions and boundaries between ourselves and our over- cultures, through the lens of queering. Let’s talk about difference and divergence for a minute, because it’s easy to mix these up with othering. Given that confusion, some spiritual folks have a hard time seeing any dividing lines as a positive.
When we speak of othering, we usually mean a toxic pattern by which people exclude or dehumanize others with targeted qualities, usually innate and unchangeable ones like race, sexuality, or disability. This impulse points the finger outward and says “you are not like us. You don’t belong. You are different and different means lesser. You are other than right, other than fully and equally human.” Not our greatest drive.
The polar reaction to othering is to seek unity. (Note that our first ingrained reactions are so often polar. This springs from an over-culture addicted to binaries. It is not the only way to respond, but it is the only way many bother to imagine per conditioning.) Now unity can be grand insofar as it upholds our shared humanity, sovereignty, and inherent worth. Unity sees the whole from the most distant available vantage point. It defines us first by species, then as living critters residing on this planet. Zoom out even further, and we’re all cosmic light beings, right? Just one big, happy space blur.
That telescopic unity perspective is important to take at times, but it wreaks havoc when it becomes the only vantage point acknowledged or allowed. Excessive unity rhetoric erases boundaries and distinctions, throws diversity under the bus, and easily backslides into spiritual bypassing behaviors. That’s a shame because diversity is both a gorgeous, golden treasure box, and a pillar of nature. It’s an unavoidable truth and an invaluable gift.
The other great cost of chasing transcendence and unity is that, when you soften your focus and blast off to the point that everything looks like holism and love, it’s easier to overlook the suffering back down on the ground. Not so happy of a space blur, it turns out. So much of that suffering is treatable through attention and care, but attention and care require (metaphorical) sight and acknowledgement.
When we value sight and acknowledgement, and celebrate diversity, drawing boundaries and making distinctions become very useful, practical, and neutral tools. We don’t have a lot of good language for constructive self-division. There’s individuation, diversity, rebellion, subversion, and boundaries, and these are all great terms, but none of them mean what I want for this dynamic. I want a term for a kind of reclaimed, empowering, self-driven othering, so I’m going to float a new one right now: how about elseing? We’re gonna go ahead and verb the word else here cause it’s 2019 and we can verb what we damn well please.
Elseing doesn’t point the finger, but it does point the binoculars outward, and the Vision inward, observes what the group is doing and says, “you know what? I’m gonna do something else.” Elseing can be an affirming response to getting othered, not unlike reclaiming a slur. In response to othering, It’s kind of a “you-can’t-fire-me-I-quit” move, only the sentiment doesn’t spring from sour grapes so much as profound differences in core values, morals, and ideology. Of course a person can take initiative and else themself of their own accord even if they’ve never been excluded or rejected.
Where unity is a polar response—it has to get as far away from othering and division as it possibly can—elseing is a lateral response. It can occupy infinite possible points in a field, and claim any number of relationships to division. Elseing leaves room to reject othering, while still finding beauty and worth in otherness(/Otherness if you lean spooky or fey-of- center).
Above all, elseing aims to restore power, redistribute agency, imagine and create new culture, and affirm life, whereas othering aims to consolidate power, strip agency, constrict culture, and deny whatever life it finds disruptive or squicky. There’s something powerful and courageous about seeing a culture founded on othering for what it is and saying, “Idon’t want to be part of this group. Maybe this is where I began, but these values are not my values. This way is not my way.” Note that, within some origin cultures, any amount of elseing will provoke eviction from the group. In more forgiving cultures, elseing can continue to hold space within and offer change or variance to a group, perhaps with some discomfort, but without ostracism or violence.
This spread is for elseing good and sweet. Now that we’ve established why we’re here, let’s talk about culture.
The “dominant culture” mentioned under card 1 means the particular over-culture you are most immersed in and impacted by. This will vary widely by location, class, family, religion, social circle, etc. For instance, the dominant culture I experience as a secular Masshole has a very different flavor than the dominant culture some of my extended family experience within rural, evangelical Protestant communities, even though American culture at its broadest pulls a lot from the evangelical Christian Right at this moment.
In truth, we’re all affected by multiple, overlapping over-cultures. This card should default to the one that hits you hardest in the moment cause tarot loves a zinger. However, if you’d like to specify a particular cultural layer to differentiate from, you can do so by stating your intention out loud, or writing it down in your tarot journal before shuffling and drawing this spread. Potential cultural layers to examine include those of immediate family, extended family, workplace, local politics, region, ethnicity, ancestry, and country.
You might even like to look at how you diverge from your local queer community. LGBTQIA+ is a mighty big umbrella. Just cause we have a thing or two in common, doesn’t mean we all agree, communicate well, or get along.
VARIATIONS:
1. Crossing & Uncrossing: This spread contains a cross between cards 2 and 3, both on the theme of perception. Card 2 asks how your queerness shapes the way you meet and perceive others and card 3 asks how your queerness shapes the way others meet and perceive you. “Others” here will default to generalized insights on your interactions with the cultural group from card 1. To specify a particular relationship, chose a signifier, or state or write an intention before drawing the spread.
When I read crosses, I almost always read them as two intersecting and equally present stories. I’ve paired these two cards in a cross because there’s so much interplay between the way we meet others and the way others meet us. The cross is an invitation to look at both the individual card meanings, and the story they tell when viewed as merging. Do they say something extra when you smoosh them together? If that’s too complicated—it may be a bit much especially for beginners—simply uncross them and draw them as distinct cards.
One of the most common ways to read a cross in tarot spreads is to view the bottom card as a baseline, and the top card as something that eclipses the base, or “crosses” it in the sense of complicating or foiling it. I don’t recommend applying that method to this spread because it projects a hierarchical and antagonistic relationship between the two cards, which is helpful in many contexts, but probably not in this case.
2. Relationships: Instead of pointing this spread to a particular cultural layer, you could point it at a relationship as a guide for drawing boundaries and recognizing your differences in an appreciative way. This could be very helpful if you’ve developed a twinsie dynamic with a longterm partner and you need to separate back out a bit, or if you’re experiencing tension around your differences in a relationship.
You might try drawing the reading together, or each drawing one and comparing notes. Exercise caution if tensions are already running high. After all, this spread does say fuck you. If you’re past the point of being able to say “fuck you” with a tender, loving heart and a sense of humor, this spread is probably going to fuel your breakaway oomph, and could get unpleasant. That might be just what you need, but I recommend keeping the reading to yourself and taking private space to decide how to act upon it.
In the context of relationships, the card meanings shift subtly. I’ll use partner in the breakdown to refer to the person you’re contrasting yourself with, as in your partner for this reading. The relationship could be romantic or platonic.
If your reading partner is also queer, the focus on how your queerness impacts your relations becomes somewhat redundant. The meanings might fall more like this:
1. Queer: How I diverge from my partner.
2. X 3. As X In (Perception): How how I meet and see my partner. X How my partner meets and sees me.
4. Fuck: Something to mess with—to joyously bend, warp, play with, or break down in our relationship dynamic. (Or hey, with consent, you can take this one literally.)
5. You: Something to leave to my partner. A point not to concede, but to agree to disagree on. A difference we can honor or celebrate.
If you’re examining a relationship with a cis-het reading partner, or someone who is differently queer, you might like to bring the layer of queering back in:
1. Queer: How I diverge from my partner.
2. X 3. As X In (Perception): How my queerness colors how I meet my partner. X How my queerness colors how my partner meets me.
4. Fuck: Something to mess with—to joyously bend, warp, play with, or break down in our relationship dynamic through my/our queerness.
5. You: Something to leave to my partner. A point not to concede or assimilate into. A difference we can honor or celebrate.
2. X 3. As X In (Perception): How my queerness colors how I meet others.
X How my queerness colors how others meet me.
4. Fuck: Something to mess with—to joyously bend, warp, play with, or break down through my queerness.
5. You: Something to leave to others. A point not to assimilate into.
NOTES:
This spread is for drawing distinctions and boundaries between ourselves and our over- cultures, through the lens of queering. Let’s talk about difference and divergence for a minute, because it’s easy to mix these up with othering. Given that confusion, some spiritual folks have a hard time seeing any dividing lines as a positive.
When we speak of othering, we usually mean a toxic pattern by which people exclude or dehumanize others with targeted qualities, usually innate and unchangeable ones like race, sexuality, or disability. This impulse points the finger outward and says “you are not like us. You don’t belong. You are different and different means lesser. You are other than right, other than fully and equally human.” Not our greatest drive.
The polar reaction to othering is to seek unity. (Note that our first ingrained reactions are so often polar. This springs from an over-culture addicted to binaries. It is not the only way to respond, but it is the only way many bother to imagine per conditioning.) Now unity can be grand insofar as it upholds our shared humanity, sovereignty, and inherent worth. Unity sees the whole from the most distant available vantage point. It defines us first by species, then as living critters residing on this planet. Zoom out even further, and we’re all cosmic light beings, right? Just one big, happy space blur.
That telescopic unity perspective is important to take at times, but it wreaks havoc when it becomes the only vantage point acknowledged or allowed. Excessive unity rhetoric erases boundaries and distinctions, throws diversity under the bus, and easily backslides into spiritual bypassing behaviors. That’s a shame because diversity is both a gorgeous, golden treasure box, and a pillar of nature. It’s an unavoidable truth and an invaluable gift.
The other great cost of chasing transcendence and unity is that, when you soften your focus and blast off to the point that everything looks like holism and love, it’s easier to overlook the suffering back down on the ground. Not so happy of a space blur, it turns out. So much of that suffering is treatable through attention and care, but attention and care require (metaphorical) sight and acknowledgement.
When we value sight and acknowledgement, and celebrate diversity, drawing boundaries and making distinctions become very useful, practical, and neutral tools. We don’t have a lot of good language for constructive self-division. There’s individuation, diversity, rebellion, subversion, and boundaries, and these are all great terms, but none of them mean what I want for this dynamic. I want a term for a kind of reclaimed, empowering, self-driven othering, so I’m going to float a new one right now: how about elseing? We’re gonna go ahead and verb the word else here cause it’s 2019 and we can verb what we damn well please.
Elseing doesn’t point the finger, but it does point the binoculars outward, and the Vision inward, observes what the group is doing and says, “you know what? I’m gonna do something else.” Elseing can be an affirming response to getting othered, not unlike reclaiming a slur. In response to othering, It’s kind of a “you-can’t-fire-me-I-quit” move, only the sentiment doesn’t spring from sour grapes so much as profound differences in core values, morals, and ideology. Of course a person can take initiative and else themself of their own accord even if they’ve never been excluded or rejected.
Where unity is a polar response—it has to get as far away from othering and division as it possibly can—elseing is a lateral response. It can occupy infinite possible points in a field, and claim any number of relationships to division. Elseing leaves room to reject othering, while still finding beauty and worth in otherness(/Otherness if you lean spooky or fey-of- center).
Above all, elseing aims to restore power, redistribute agency, imagine and create new culture, and affirm life, whereas othering aims to consolidate power, strip agency, constrict culture, and deny whatever life it finds disruptive or squicky. There’s something powerful and courageous about seeing a culture founded on othering for what it is and saying, “Idon’t want to be part of this group. Maybe this is where I began, but these values are not my values. This way is not my way.” Note that, within some origin cultures, any amount of elseing will provoke eviction from the group. In more forgiving cultures, elseing can continue to hold space within and offer change or variance to a group, perhaps with some discomfort, but without ostracism or violence.
This spread is for elseing good and sweet. Now that we’ve established why we’re here, let’s talk about culture.
The “dominant culture” mentioned under card 1 means the particular over-culture you are most immersed in and impacted by. This will vary widely by location, class, family, religion, social circle, etc. For instance, the dominant culture I experience as a secular Masshole has a very different flavor than the dominant culture some of my extended family experience within rural, evangelical Protestant communities, even though American culture at its broadest pulls a lot from the evangelical Christian Right at this moment.
In truth, we’re all affected by multiple, overlapping over-cultures. This card should default to the one that hits you hardest in the moment cause tarot loves a zinger. However, if you’d like to specify a particular cultural layer to differentiate from, you can do so by stating your intention out loud, or writing it down in your tarot journal before shuffling and drawing this spread. Potential cultural layers to examine include those of immediate family, extended family, workplace, local politics, region, ethnicity, ancestry, and country.
You might even like to look at how you diverge from your local queer community. LGBTQIA+ is a mighty big umbrella. Just cause we have a thing or two in common, doesn’t mean we all agree, communicate well, or get along.
VARIATIONS:
1. Crossing & Uncrossing: This spread contains a cross between cards 2 and 3, both on the theme of perception. Card 2 asks how your queerness shapes the way you meet and perceive others and card 3 asks how your queerness shapes the way others meet and perceive you. “Others” here will default to generalized insights on your interactions with the cultural group from card 1. To specify a particular relationship, chose a signifier, or state or write an intention before drawing the spread.
When I read crosses, I almost always read them as two intersecting and equally present stories. I’ve paired these two cards in a cross because there’s so much interplay between the way we meet others and the way others meet us. The cross is an invitation to look at both the individual card meanings, and the story they tell when viewed as merging. Do they say something extra when you smoosh them together? If that’s too complicated—it may be a bit much especially for beginners—simply uncross them and draw them as distinct cards.
One of the most common ways to read a cross in tarot spreads is to view the bottom card as a baseline, and the top card as something that eclipses the base, or “crosses” it in the sense of complicating or foiling it. I don’t recommend applying that method to this spread because it projects a hierarchical and antagonistic relationship between the two cards, which is helpful in many contexts, but probably not in this case.
2. Relationships: Instead of pointing this spread to a particular cultural layer, you could point it at a relationship as a guide for drawing boundaries and recognizing your differences in an appreciative way. This could be very helpful if you’ve developed a twinsie dynamic with a longterm partner and you need to separate back out a bit, or if you’re experiencing tension around your differences in a relationship.
You might try drawing the reading together, or each drawing one and comparing notes. Exercise caution if tensions are already running high. After all, this spread does say fuck you. If you’re past the point of being able to say “fuck you” with a tender, loving heart and a sense of humor, this spread is probably going to fuel your breakaway oomph, and could get unpleasant. That might be just what you need, but I recommend keeping the reading to yourself and taking private space to decide how to act upon it.
In the context of relationships, the card meanings shift subtly. I’ll use partner in the breakdown to refer to the person you’re contrasting yourself with, as in your partner for this reading. The relationship could be romantic or platonic.
If your reading partner is also queer, the focus on how your queerness impacts your relations becomes somewhat redundant. The meanings might fall more like this:
1. Queer: How I diverge from my partner.
2. X 3. As X In (Perception): How how I meet and see my partner. X How my partner meets and sees me.
4. Fuck: Something to mess with—to joyously bend, warp, play with, or break down in our relationship dynamic. (Or hey, with consent, you can take this one literally.)
5. You: Something to leave to my partner. A point not to concede, but to agree to disagree on. A difference we can honor or celebrate.
If you’re examining a relationship with a cis-het reading partner, or someone who is differently queer, you might like to bring the layer of queering back in:
1. Queer: How I diverge from my partner.
2. X 3. As X In (Perception): How my queerness colors how I meet my partner. X How my queerness colors how my partner meets me.
4. Fuck: Something to mess with—to joyously bend, warp, play with, or break down in our relationship dynamic through my/our queerness.
5. You: Something to leave to my partner. A point not to concede or assimilate into. A difference we can honor or celebrate.