Farewell, Sweet Loo Loo

Loo Loo
September 2003 – July 12, 2014

Today our precious Loo Loo moved on to the next realm. Her poor little body was no longer able to thrive in our world, but I know her spirit remains here with us. Through heartbreak and tears, I humbly offer my remembrance of her.

I’ll be honest – Loo Loo and I had a rough start. Tim and I had just started dating when he got her, but after the shiny new puppy feel wore off, boy was she a handful. She was stubborn, persistent, and arguably possessed by demons. I felt bad for not liking her, because I love dogs. But she was like no other puppy I’d ever met.

I remember going over to Tim’s apartment and taking care of her on Saturday nights while he was doing his show. I would sit in his room and watch reruns of SVU while Loo Loo scampered about the place yipping and chewing on God-knows-what and peeing God-knows-where. Once, a few minutes before people starting arriving for a party we were having, she jumped up on the bed and peed on the comforter, then looked at us with an evil “haha screw you” glare that made me laugh and recoil in horror at the same time. We would tie her to the doorknob whenever we ate dinner, and she would bark and howl and lunge at us like some maniacal hyena. I was convinced that she was from the depths of hell.

Two years later I moved in with Tim. Loo Loo had matured a bit, so even though she had evolved from the canine spawn of Satan into a more manageable mutt, she was still stubborn and refused to obey me. I often got frustrated with her. She would just stare at me from across the room whenever I called, as if to say, “You’re not my daddy.” And even though I knew that Tim was her daddy, I still wanted to be a legit stepdad. But she just wouldn’t have it. At least not yet.

So I endured. I loved her all the same, but I felt a distance between us that I thought would always remain.

And then, that all changed.

I was laid off in December 2008, which meant spending a lot more time at home, with Loo Loo. That also meant walking and feeding her a lot more, and, since I had nowhere else to be, taking her to the dog run every day. I mean, literally, EVERY DAY. At first it felt like a chore, but it got me off the couch and it gave us a chance to bond. Admittedly, it was rough going at first. She pulled me like an ox, whimpering and whining all the way there, sometimes squealing from all the excitement and nervous energy she had, as if every time she went to the dog run was the very first time. It embarrassed me at first to have people on the street staring at her like she was a crazed beast. But after I while, I just laughed it off. She was a dog, after all. We would be standing at the street corner waiting to cross 11th Avenue, and she would sit there howling like a wolf, and people would ask, “Is she okay? What’s wrong?” Eventually I just replied, “I don’t know, do you speak dog? Ask her!” One time, after I said that, she looked up at me and kinda tilted her head. I swear she was smiling.

 

Loo Loo and I had a lot of good chats during our dog run days. We always went during the day when most folks were at work, so we had the place all to ourselves. She would fetch the ball tirelessly for what seemed like hours. I could sense a communion of souls developing as time went on, and I started to look forward to our afternoon excursions. She even knew when it was time to go – right after Days of Our Lives. She would curl up next to the couch while I watched, then as soon as I turned off the TV, she would jump up and start pacing and squealing. And…we were off!

Then something hit me one day as I was struggling to contain her on our way to the dog run. I realized that, as frustrating as she was sometimes, she had just as much right to be on this Earth as I did. She didn’t ask to be born. She didn’t ask to end up with me and Tim. But she did. And so she depended on us to take care of her, no matter what.

And we owed that to her. I owed her as much patience and love and respect as I would show to any other creature. Once I accepted that, once I realized that she had come into my life for a reason – perhaps to teach me about patience, empathy, unconditional love, whatever – I fell so madly in love with her that I couldn’t imagine life without her. As stubborn and feisty and downright crazy as she could be, she was also loyal and tender and depended on me and Tim for her very existence, and even though she may not have been capable of comprehending that essential fact, I did.

In those days – the days when I was looking for work and trying to keep it together emotionally, the days when I spent most of my time trying to not feel like a complete failure – I sometimes felt like she was my main outlet for conversation. But she didn’t judge me for being jobless. She didn’t care that I had to file for unemployment. She didn’t see me as a failure. As long as I was there to take her for a walk, throw her the ball, and give her a Beggin’ Strip for breakfast, I was everything she needed. And that became all I needed.

A few more memories that stand out for me:

That time Tim and I took Loo Loo to my mom’s in Minnesota for Christmas, and she climbed right up on to my mom’s settee – the one on which dogs WERE NOT ALLOWED – and plopped herself down, all comfy, like she had come to rule the castle. Mom’s dog Buddy may have been the little prince, but Loo Loo had just announced: “Step off, bitches. I am the QUEEN.”

That time Tim and I dressed her up in that God-awful Santa suit, took her to Rockefeller Center at the height of the season, and posed her in front of the tree for our Christmas card. (Needless to say, she was not a happy camper, but she suffered through it, and I got the perfect shot for our “Happy Ho-Loo-Loo-Days from Bark-efeller Center” card.)

Every time we walked into one of the neighborhood liquor stores and she plopped her paws right up on the counter to get her treat. She was very popular at the liquor stores.

That time on Fire Island – it was her first summer – when she escaped from the house and darted down the boardwalk, off into the oblivion of the Pines. We eventually got a phone call from some angry lesbians who had found her and scolded us for not keeping a better eye on her.

The last time I got to see Loo Loo was this past May when I went back to NYC for my 40th birthday, thanks to the generosity of my friends Tim, Sean, Anthony, and Danny. I will forever be grateful for those final days I got to spend with her, seeing her hobbling along on three legs like a champ, chasing the ball at the dog run with as much gusto as I remembered, and licking my face and squealing when I first walked through the door. And I will always treasure those last precious moments I had with her on the morning I left. I took her little face in my hands, looked into her eyes, and kissed her nose. Then I whispered into her ear, “I love you forever, my sweet girl.” And I knew that was the last time I would ever see her.

All of my memories of Loo Loo are too many to catalog, too deep to mention in passing, too complex to do justice to in a single sitting. But they will carry me through this time of grieving, and they will live on in the stories I share with friends and loved ones in years to come.

I will still see her in the eyes of other dogs who greet me on the street or in the park. I will still hear her voice in the cacophony of the neighborhood dogs who all bark and howl at once as their owners come home to greet them each night. I will close my eyes and be able to feel her wagging tail slapping against my knee on our walks to the dog run, her hot breath on my face as she excitedly pants in anticipation for me to throw the ball again, her head in my lap as I rub her belly before saying goodnight. I know she lives on, and I am grateful for the years I got to spend with her here in this life.

So goodbye, my sweet angel Loo Loo. In your short time here, you taught me more about love than most people learn in a lifetime. You had a fabulous life and were a blessing to everyone who came in contact with you. You had two devoted daddies who loved you without limit, and I know I also speak for Tim when I say that we could not be more proud of you for toughing it out these last few months. That little demon dog who stormed into our lives and grabbed our hearts from the beginning will be missed, but I know you’re better off where you’re going.

One day my time will come too, and I can only hope that I touched as many hearts and filled as many lives with love, laughter, and light.

Rest in Peace, my sweet girl.

Love always,
Q

Farewell, New York!

Tomorrow I leave New York City to start a new life in Hawaii. After ten years of living in this, The Greatest City, I have made the decision to move on. It is one of the most exciting, yet frightening decisions I have ever made. And though I am filled with uncertainty, I am also filled with excitement and hope.

I haven’t quite known what to do with myself these last few days in NYC. Part of me wants to visit all the places I never got to see and do all the things I always thought a good New Yorker should do, but I figure if I haven’t seen or done them by now, there’s probably a good reason. Besides, as several people have told me, New York isn’t going anywhere. I can always come back.

That’s the good thing about leaving: You can always come back. Sure, it won’t be the same, but nothing ever is.

And so while I must wait to see what’s in store for me in Honolulu and beyond, I must take some time to process the emotions I am having as I bring this part of my life to a close. The past ten years of my life, spent living in the most exciting, confusing, and at the same time oddly comforting place I have ever lived. I can say with complete certainty that New York is the only place that has ever felt like home to me. I think that in some way, it always will.

Looking back, I never really allowed myself to dream too big about becoming a stereotypical New York success story, the kind I always saw in movies growing up. Still, a part of me always knew I’d find my way here. And when I finally did, at the age of 28, I found success beyond my wildest dreams. I really did have it all, if only for a short while.

I think back on what I was like when I stepped off the plane at JFK on January 3, 2003: scared shitless, but full of hope for what was to come. I had a job lined up, I had friends to stay with until I got a place of my own, and I had a little money in the bank. It was the height of the mortgage boom, and I was making money faster than I could spend it. I doubt either of my parents ever made as much money as I did those first few years. In the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t forever, but I couldn’t help myself as I got caught up in my weekly spending sprees on Fifth Avenue and in SoHo. I didn’t need what I was buying, but the very fact that I could buy it without worrying made me giddy. For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t have to worry about money. Ever. It was intoxicating. It was everything I imagined New York could be.

Even as I became more comfortable in my own skin as a legit New Yorker, I never could have imagined all the beauty, heartbreak, elation and frustration that awaited me as I foraged my way through the maddening, fabulous jungle of all things NYC. The noise, the crowds, the wild drunken nights in Chelsea and Hell’s Kitchen, the quiet Sunday afternoons along the Hudson River. The summer weekends on Fire Island and the winter weekends spent having boozy brunches with friends in the neighborhood. Those weekends during my first summer when I used to walk around the city with my video camera, much like a tourist, filming all the sights I had only ever seen on TV and in movies, and feeling like I had arrived at the center of it all. At last, I owned the world, and it was a beautiful thing.

I have many wonderful memories of my time here. I had my share of celebrity sightings, as most New Yorkers do. I saw my first Madonna concert in Madison Square Garden (and then two more after that). I stood in line for 4 hours in the freezing cold to see a very pregnant Mariah Carey perform at Rockefeller Center. I went to all the great museums and saw some amazing Broadway shows. I fell in love.

I also endured more than my share of disasters. There was the 2003 blackout that affected my weekend plans to go to my boss’s house in the Hamptons, but also made me appreciate how New Yorkers came together in a time of crisis. Then there was the 2007 steam pipe explosion right outside the window of my office at Washington Mutual that sent me running for my life, not knowing whether we were being attacked again, then showing up out of breath, crying, at my apartment on the other side of town covered in the white mud and ash that had rained down into the streets. And most recently, there was Hurricane Sandy.

I made some great friends early on in New York. Some came and left, some stayed. Some will be with me forever, and some will fade quietly back into the crowd. Some are like family now, and others I will likely never see again. And still, we all share a connection that only New Yorkers can share, and it will bond us forever.

Life changed for me when the economy tanked and I got laid off. The paychecks I had taken for granted stopped coming, and even though I was glad to be out of the finance industry (which I had come to loathe), I was terrified of what was to come. Unemployment changed not only me, but everyone around me. Sure, my friends were generous and caring and sympathetic, but I still felt like I had become less of something, that I had failed to sustain the success I had thus far managed to capture, even though I knew it wasn’t my fault. Lots of people were laid off. I remember wandering the cold, gray streets during that first winter of unemployment feeling so alone, so disconnected. No one wants to hang out with poor people, I told myself. And although I wasn’t poor, I couldn’t help feeling like I was. Even worse, it was the first time I felt like New York had let me down.

I felt betrayed. I was mad at New York.

Things got better once I decided to go back to school. I finally had a purpose again. I learned new things. I was slowly coming back.

It took me a year after grad school to find a job, and it payed far less than I thought I was worth, but I was desperate, so I took it. However, I soon realized that I couldn’t stay here and live comfortably making what I was making. My new reality was always having to worry about money, which only magnified the daily frustrations of city life. New York just wasn’t going to work for me anymore.

So I decided to leave.

I feel bittersweet about moving away, but I know it’s time. I can almost hear this sassy old broad named New York telling me, in her own special way, that it’s time for me to keep exploring. It’s time for me to take what she has taught me and move on with my life, using the lessons I’ve learned here, to carry this stronger, better version of myself into new possibilities, new opportunities, new relationships, and new places where I can thrive as the proud New Yorker I have become.

It’s time for me to make way for someone else now – someone with the same sense of infinite possibility and wonder that I had ten years ago, someone who will step off the plane at JFK and into the loud, dirty, glorious insanity that is New York and find out for himself why it really is the Greatest City. And I hope that when he looks back in ten years, he has the same undying appreciation that I have for all the things to be gained by living here: the memories, the lasting friendships, the daily highs and lows of city life, the one-of-a-kind perspective that only New Yorkers can know. And above all, I hope he realizes that he has made a friend for life. Once you’ve lived in New York, it will always be part of you.

And if you’re like me, it’s one of the best parts.

Things I’ll miss the most about NYC:

The amazing views

My sweet angel Loo Loo

This guy – my ex-boyfriend/roommate/domestic partner/best friend

A Good Cause: Help My Sister Heal the World!

Okay, I’m promoting my sister’s cause here because I believe in it, and even more, I believe in her.  Here’s her story:

My name is Tarah Long. I am a Licensed Acupuncturist in Honolulu, Hawaii. My passion in life is helping people heal so that they may live the best life they can, free from pain and disease. I believe we all have the ability to heal ourselves, without the use of medication. Being a practitioner of Chinese Medicine has taught me the resilience of the human body and spirit. I see amazing things with my patients everyday. Recently, I was introduced to a kind of healing called Cellular and Organ Regeneration. This healing uses the power within us to heal the body of any ailment, and even to regenerate organs! I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true! There have been many documented cases showing people regenerating missing or faulty organs. This work is coming out of Russia and was started by a scientist by the name of Arcady Petrov. To learn more about him, his work, and even see a documentary regarding this healing, please go to regenerationcells.com.au/. Here you can see this amazing work! When I first discovered this healing, I knew I had to learn it. Online, I found a book where I could study this work and get a basic understanding of the principles. It is also uselful in doing healing work on myself. I soon discovered that Arcady Petrov, the founder, would be coming to Australia to teach all levels of this work; the beginners course through the Master level. In order to best work on others, I need to go through to the Master level.

My ultimate goal with this work is to open a center in Honolulu dedicated to healing. I will include other healing modalities such as Acupuncture, but the main focus will be Cellular and Organ Regeneration. I feel strongly that this is the future of medicine, and I very much want to be a part of it. I know I am here as a healer, and I want to do the best possible job I can. For if my brothers and sisters are healed, the whole world benefits, as we are all connected.

Won’t you believe in her too?  You can donate as little as $1 to help her reach her goal – just go to her website!

http://gogetfunding.com/project/organ-regeneration

The qPod Chronicles: Tales of a Haunted iPod

My iPod (named “qPod”) is officially haunted, and it’s starting to scare me.

It all started last Tuesday night.  As per my usual nighttime ritual, I started playing qPod on the dock by my bed because I need soothing music to help me fall asleep.  For that night’s playlist, I chose “mimi (Mariah Carey) ballads.”  (Sometimes I play my “bb2012” playlist – the “bb” stands for “bubble bath” – but that night I was in a Mimi mood.)

After 1 or 2 songs had played all the way through, “When I Saw You” (from Mariah’s 1995 masterpiece Daydream) started to play, and soon I was on the brink of a warm, peaceful sleep.  But suddenly, just as Mariah was about to launch into the song’s chorus, another song by Beth Orton started playing, continuing for about 10 seconds until Mariah resumed her heavenly belt.

Shaken, confused, and overall pissed at qPod for the unwelcome jolt, I made a mental note to remedy the glitch the next day, which was easily done by deleting the defective song from my iPod and re-loading the unadulterated version from my laptop.

Before I continue, a brief review of my issues heretofore with this particular iPod (160 GB iPod Classic, purchased in 2011):

About 6 months ago, I unplugged qPod from my desktop computer (a 2004 iMac) after loading some new songs, only to find upon trying to select a playlist on my way to work that he was barren – as in, NO MUSIC.  I reasoned that my old computer had somehow toyed with the software or mechanics of the younger, hipper 2011 qPod, thereby erasing its contents.  The only remedy I could think of was to reformat it from my new (2011) Mac Book, then load all 6,000-something songs back on, silently cursing the dreaded beast as I re-created my playlists to the best of my memory and lamenting the untimely loss of my all-time high Solitaire score (it was over 40,000!).

Since then, I have had to reformat and reload the damn thing at least 2 more times due to its being wiped out after loading new music from my laptop.  Now, I am careful to make sure it’s completely finished syncing and the little “OK to Disconnect” message and status bar have fully disappeared before I disconnect it, and so far I’ve had no more surprise erasures.

However, the demonic song-splicing continues.

Last night as I was listening to Sarah McLachlan and drifting off into dreamland, the song that was playing (“Ice” from Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, one of my desert-island albums) abruptly stopped mid-song and the next track started to play.  After a quick round of mental harumph’s and a note-to-self to fix it the next day, I slowly drifted off to sleep, only to hear none other than MARIAH FREAKING CAREY burst unabashedly into a Sarah song!  I couldn’t believe my ears.  The haunting had come full circle, starting with the desecration of my beloved Mimi last week and then pitting her against my also-beloved Sarah only a few nights later.  These 2 ladies were clearly at war, and I was in the middle.

Of course, this issue of songs being cut off or spliced is most likely due to some faulty synchronization between qPod and my laptop, but the fact that Mariah has played both victim and culprit in two separate instances of the haunting has me asking, is Mimi (better yet, the Ghost of Mimi) somehow behind this whole debacle?

If that is the case, has my blind devotion to her all been for naught?  After decades of Mimi worship, after standing by her through it all – the breakdowns, the weight problems, Glitter, Dem Babies – do I really deserve to be tortured so at the hands of my precious qPod?

Mariah should know better.  If this continues, I will have no choice but to emancipate myself from her evil ways.

(P.S. Okay, not really.)

SEX still tops the list

Did you know that 98 to 99% of all books ever published are now out of print?  Me neither.  I also never knew there was an actual book called Mandingo.  (Ahh, summer of 2005.  But I digress…) 

Alas, I may never read Mandingo since it’s #6 on Bookfinder.com’s 2012 list of the Top 100 out-of-print books in the U.S.  However, I can take pride in owning 2 (yes, TWO) copies–1 sealed, 1 open–of THE MOST sought-after out-of-print title: Sex by Madonna. 

Source: http://bit.ly/PstToD.jpg

I got my sealed copy as a birthday present from an ex-boyfriend who bought it on eBay back in 1999 (for around $250, I think).  It’s safely stowed above my closet, protected by a few layers of bubble wrap.  Around the same time, one of my bosses at the ad agency where I worked (this was unstable, wide-eyed nutjob “she-boss,” as opposed to plain ol’ mean, batshit crazy “he-boss”) sold me her copy of Sex for a measly $10 (yes, TEN DOLLARS) so long as she could keep the CD that came with it–not a deal breaker for me, since I own a good 85 to 90% of every piece of recorded music by Madonna.

Speaking of sought-after-est (?) books, lately I’m devouring the “Peter and Charlie Trilogy” by late gay author Gordon Merrick: The Lord Won’t Mind, One for the Gods, and Forth Into Light.  I remember reading these books back in college per the suggestion of another ex-boyfriend (honestly, I was surprised he even knew how to read, but then again, I was only with him for his looks).  They’re superbly shallow and sleazy and pretty much everything I imagine those awful 50 Shades of Grey books are to their readers (and people like my friend Sean). 

Anyway, as of now I’m a few pages shy of finishing the second book and will no doubt finish the third soon after, so now I’m on a quest to find more, more, MORE of Merrick’s delightfully shallow gay romance novels, all of which are–you guessed it (or maybe you didn’t)–out of print and nowhere to be found in the BookFinder.com list.  

And chances are, no matter how many times I obsessively go on Amazon and click to “tell beg the publisher” to put these books on Kindle, I don’t think it’s going to happen.

Top 10 most sought after out-of-print books in 2012

1. Madonna, Sex
2. Stephen King (as Richard Bachman), Rage
3. Nora Roberts, Promise me Tomorrow
4. Stephen King, My Pretty Pony
5. John Yudkin, Pure, White and Deadly; the Problem of Sugar
6. Kyle Onstott, Mandingo
7. Johnny Cash, Man in Black
8. Luigi Serafini, Codex Seraphinianus
9. Nan Gilbert, 365 Bedtime Stories
10. Alice Starmore, Tudor Roses

Source: http://www.bookfinder.com/books/bookfinder_report_2012/

The Cacophony of Mimi

Most times I try to use my talents for the greater good.  Or professional development.  Or whatever.

And then there are times likes this.

In what is most likely my first in a series of similar projects, I’ve created something I call The Cacophony of Mimi.  (Yes, this is happening.)

The Cacophony of Mimi: Singles and images from Mariah Carey’s 1995 album Daydream

The Cacophony of Mimi  is a true sonic wonder: All 12 tracks from one of Mariah Carey’s albums (in this case, her 1995 masterpiece Daydream), stacked on top of each other and played at once.  Sounds awesome, right?

It is.

I’ll admit, it might grate on your senses for about the first 30 seconds, but the whole thing is only 4 minutes and 39 seconds long, so deal with it.  Listen closely and you’ll hear a magical, dizzying mélange of Ms. Carey’s heavenly vocals — belting, whistling, and everything in between — gliding effortlessly through a maze of pop, R&B, hip-hop and gospel.  From the rousing kick-off of “Fantasy” to those final somber notes of “One Sweet Day,” all the hits and then some from this, the best-selling album of Mariah’s career, are blended into one spectacular potpourri of aural ecstasy.

Granted, this has been done before, but so what.  I think mine is better.

After all, it is Mariah.

 

Visual Resume, Part II

Well, it’s a work in progress and will most likely go through several more iterations, but here’s my first stab at a visual resume.  Rather than blindly fumbling my way through some fancy graphic design software, I just used PowerPoint to create it.  I wanted to present my experience, education and skills in a visually appealing way, then I added a personal touch with my interests (note: I had to whittle these down from a huge list, but I think the ones I included give a pretty decent representation of my personality).  So without further ado, here it is!

My Visual Resume

Click here to view the PDF version.

Visual resume? I’m in.

A few days ago I signed up for Vizify, a new visual resume service that one of my Facebook friends was promoting.  I’ve been interested in doing a visual resume for awhile, but it just never quite rose above watching my Party of Five DVD box set on the old to-do list. (Well, that and exercising.  No, really.)

Vizify is pretty straightforward: You go to www.vizify.com and request an invite, give them a  shout-out on Twitter and/or Facebook to bump yourself up in line, then get to work once  they email your invite code.  (My invite came the same day.)  Initially, it takes basic information from your Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook, and/or FourSquare profiles (each of which you can opt out of) to create your Vizify profile.   Then, you can edit your profile by adding, amending, and deleting content and pages as you like.  Here’s mine.

A simple Google search for “visual resume” brings up a few decent-looking visual resume sites and tutorials, along with some really great (and really awful) examples.  Obviously, you will want to tailor anything you do, whether it’s on paper or online, to the type of position you’re seeking.

While Vizify is cool, I also like a good Slideshare resume.  This guy Jesse sold me on the idea.

Before I left grad school, I created a personal/professional website with Weebly – Quaid Long, MLIS – primarily to showcase my portfolio, but also to  serve as an extension of the traditional 1-page paper resume that I didn’t think could successfully represent all the things I would like prospective employers to know about me and what I’ve done.  (And yes, I do think I’m that awesome.)

While Weebly does a fine job of presenting me at my best and most accomplished, I also want something more streamlined and “wow-factor”-ish to advertise my coolness, hence my quest for a different platform.  Most likely, that platform will be a combination of a few things, such as Vizify and Slideshare, but I need to be careful not to over-sell the goods.  Remember, no one likes a data dump.  Whether it’s paper or pixels, a good resume shouldn’t take more than a few seconds to grab someone’s attention.

Here’s a great example of a 1-pager that neatly–and effectively–“chunks” information together for maximum visual impact:

Source: http://www.vizualresume.com/

My take-away on visual resumes is this: It’s all in the execution.  Have fun, experiment, tailor it to your audience/employer, and above all, keep it simple.  Now go visualize!

Some more links to check out:

http://www.vizualresume.com/

http://www.goospoos.com/2010/04/10-best-visual-resume-samples/

http://workawesome.com/career/top-10-powerpoint-resume-presentations-on-slideshare/

http://www.weebly.com/

My INALJ Interview!

I was recently interviewed by Naomi House (Founder, Publisher, Editor, President & CEO of I Need A Library Job) for the Success Stories section of her website.  Read it here!

(After much to-do about what photo to use for my interview, I decided on one of my Hawaiian vacation pics.  Yeah, I’m a little obsessed.)

Queering the Census (My first published article!)

This is exciting!

During my final semester at Pratt SILS, I wrote a paper for Dr. Debbie Rabina‘s LIS 611 Information Policy class titled “Queering the Census: Privacy, Accountability, and Public Policy Implications of Adding Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Questions to the U.S. Census.”  In this paper, I applied a harms and benefits analysis to explore the tensions between privacy and disclosure in the U.S. Census in order to answer the following questions:

1. If the mission of the U.S. Census is to provide “quality data about the nation’s people” to accurately reflect the population—currently by asking about gender, age, race and ethnicity—then should it also ask about sexual orientation and gender identity?
2. Moreover, would including such questions in the census constitute an invasion of privacy, or would those questions be protected by the Census Bureau’s commitment to confidentiality and ultimately prove beneficial in the efforts for LGBT equality?

Dr. Rabina encouraged me to submit the paper for the Student Papers issue of DttP: Documents to the People, which is “the official publication of the Government Documents Round Table (GODORT) of the American Library Association (ALA).”  To my delight (and with the invaluable assistance of Dr. Rabina’s editing), the paper was accepted for publication!  It appears in the Winter 2011 issue of DttP.

Read it here!

Long, Q. (2011, Winter). Queering the Census: Privacy, Accountability, and Public Policy Implications of Adding Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Questions to the U.S. Census. DttP: Documents to the People, 39(4), 15-19.