Post Author/Ship

Event 1a: Problematizing Author/Ship in Organization Studies

When it arises at all, imposters identify two traces of theorizing in organization studies that deal with the concept of author/ship. The first is represented by those scholars (Cunliffe, 2001, 2002; Gorli. Nicolini & Scaratti, 2015; Shotter, 1993; Thorpe & Holman, 2003) who frame managerial practice as authorship and the manager as an author of organizational life. The second is aligned with those scholars (Baack & Prasch, 1997) who are more resolutely inspired by postmodern/poststructural theories and wonder what the death of the subject implies in the context of organizational theory and practice.

Within the first trace of writing, the “manager as author” is a way to metaphorically understand managers’ work. These scholars argue that managers can be understood as “practical authors,” because they are involved in the creation of “. . . new possibilities for action, new ways of being and relating in indeterminate, ill-defined realms of activity. In this way, they are more like artists than engineers” (Cunliffe, 2001, pp. 351-352). Manager as “practical author” is a metaphor conceived by Shotter (1993) in the book Conversational Realities where he “draws on social constructionist suppositions to conceptualize management as a rhetorically responsive activity in which managers act as ‘practical authors’ of their social realities” (Shotter, 1993, in Cunliffe, 2001, p. 351). This approach explores how managers “act as practical co-authors of their organizations’ social landscape and their sense of identity” (Cunliffe, 2002, p. 131). In this theoretical alignment, authorship is conceived of as a complex Self–Other experience. Management is a responsive, engaged action with others through which managers create a shared view of reality and identity. “Managing becomes a relational activity, a rhetorical-responsive practice in which managers, along with other organizational participants try to create a sense of place and situate themselves in relation to others” (Cunliffe, 2001, p. 354). Manager as author does not live and work alone; she or he is constantly involved in activities that are rhetorically responsive and contested. Cunliffe’s (2001) formulation of management as rhetorically responsive underlines her idea that managers spontaneously and dynamically react to words, gestures, and feelings in organizational spaces. Equally, management is conceived of as a relational and contested activity because “all involved are trying to bridge the gaps and silences in talk as we try to persuade others to see things our way” (Cunliffe, 2001, p. 354).

The second and related theoretical approach to author/ship within organization studies draws more directly on postmodernist and poststructuralist theories which proclaim the death of the author and culminate with the claim of the death of man (Baack & Prasch, 1997). The death or disappearance of the author—a theoretical expression that migrated from Russian Formalism ¹ to poststructuralist philosophy (Burke, 2008) —attempts to exorcise, or at least challenge, the originary power of the author. This theoretical movement questions the sovereignty of “the speaking, full, self-present subject producing the text from her/[his] knowledge of the world and [that] she/he is the signature of its truth” (Weedon, 1997, p. 158). Concomitant with such theoretical questioning is the proposition that every thought, theory, and author is always and forever mediated. What is written is never fixed and the processes of reading and/or engagement that one text incites, and even the new writing that it can inspire, can never grasp the real meaning of the text or the real intention of those who produced those words.

Baack and Prash (1997) outline how the idea of the death and disappearance of the author (Barthes, 1977; Foucault, 1984) have led to a new conception of the subject “as contingent, positional, and ever precarious” (p. 131). As Baack and Prash show, the work of Foucault and Barthes is aligned with those theoretical contributions made by Derrida, Hall, Kristeva, Lacan, and others on the interrogation of subjectivity and institutional power. In line with this work, the focus of inquiry is how discourse and discursive practices constitute the (author)subject and exercises power through the processes of defining the normal and the marginal. When imposters take this re-conceptualization of the (author)subject seriously in the context of organization studies, the focus of inquiry “changes from who defines the terms of the organization to who is defined by them and how those definitions determine organizational identity” (Baack & Prasch, 1997, p. 136).

In the current writing context, imposters (as continuously changing and emerging texts, positions, subjectivities, spaces, absences) engage with these theoretical positions, so as to allow a questioning of the normativity, stability, and assumed power associated with the “author” and, further, to interrogate what might happen if imposters fully appreciate and live the absence/death of the author (Barthes, 1977; Derrida, 1967; Foucault, 1984). The reference material for this problematization of author/ship and the example of the complex arrangements related to author/ship is an IKEA ad that first appeared in Italy in 2011. Imposters use this IKEA ad as an exemplar “production” that imbricates some of the complex arrangements related to author/ship for, in, and of organizations.

Event 2: Authoring Two IKEA Customers

In May 2011, the Italian branch of IKEA announced the opening of a new store in Catania (Sicily) with an advertising campaign that had a huge impact all over Italy. The campaign was based on an image (Figure 1) showing two men holding hands, seen from behind, one of them holding the famous IKEA bag. The text accompanying the image read, “We are open to all families,” and the ad provoked strong reactions in Italy. Some right-wing politicians condemned it, saying it was in bad taste and disrespectful of “proper families.”

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 1.

IKEA ad—We are open to all families.

***

The following year, again in May, IKEA Italy announced that employees’ benefits, previously reserved for spouses of married workers or their live-in partners, would be extended to include live-in partners of the same sex. This was the first time a major company in Italy made such a move. Today, IKEA workers who live with someone of the same sex are entitled to maternity, paternity, or emergency leave, including when someone in the partner’s family dies, and their healthcare rights are extended to their partners; they are entitled to some time off when they get married, and they receive a marriage voucher of 120 euros, whether they get married or start living together. Last but not least, their partner gets the same store discounts and the use of the company car. In a certain way, IKEA continued its narration of the gay family in a TV advertising campaign in the following years, with a series of ads offering tantalizing glimpses of scenes of domestic life featuring two young men.

***

***

However, there were also enthusiastic defenders of the ad and even imitators. For example, the IKEA campaign clearly inspired an ad from EATALY, a new food chain that recently opened restaurants in Italy and elsewhere (including the United States and Japan). EATALY chose to use a female version of the same ad.

In the last 10 years, Italy has seen an increase in the number of publications, books and films, of gay personalities, of Internet sites and newspaper articles talking about gay-related topics. In spite of these signals, “Italy is a country where anti-lesbian and anti-gay prejudices colour the social and political landscape. Politicians openly and publicly devalue gay people” and where the “Catholic Church has a very strong power base in all political parties and a powerful grip,” so that “there are thus no laws against homophobia, and no general legislation on civil partnership” (Benozzo, 2013, p. 337) or adoption for gay couples or single men or women.

Event 1b: Meeting of Virtual Texts

One of the imposters accesses a shared Google document at the same time when another imposter is supposedly writing online. One imposter is writing and troubling with author/ship in Italy at 11 o’clock in the evening. The other one lives in Arizona, where it is 3.00 o’clock in the afternoon. This collective writing takes place across time zones and geographical regions.

Where is the author? Who is the author? Are we virtual authors, perhaps?

Are you there? Yes.

Can imposters write together?

Yes—I start—you continue—nobody finishes. OK?

Some accidental writing encounters happen. For one, the sun is still shining, while for the other it is nighttime. Is this writing sunbathing or going to sleep? One of the imposters is going to sleep. Yet—the writing continues.

Bye and thank you. Have a nice weekend, my love.

You too; my sleepy left hand.

One imposter writes: I write at my desk again. Typing up a series of utterances blended with scientifically confusing prose. I think I recognize the words I (plan to) write. Maybe.

Today. Eating only the paper candy.

A guard woman in a middle-class neighbourhood waves at the gate to greet (in)visible (wo)man behind dark and tinted car windows. Welcome home stranger!

Beautiful bouquet of Valentine day roses—maybe taller than the sweetheart receiving them. Who is the tallest—a rose or a woman?

Who is the least creative—an author or another author?

Another imposter continues: And I come to this diasporic conversation late—dipping in and out from those other authorial practices that give me authority in my workplace and pay my wages. I enter here and there . . . in anticipation of another conversation in the near future, within which imposters will try to make decisions about the paper’s “play” and “thesis”; how might one continue authoring here, and how might one represent these experimental explorations in a document that conforms to and confirms the structures and dogma of author/ship through academic publication. Oh, yes. Imposters will be thinking about dis/semination and impact. How will it go?

Event 3: Authoring Notes Coming Together

January 12, 2015

The author is dead; there is no intention or premeditated writing purpose and no assumptions about the audience. Why might imposters continue to write that their “aim/s is/are . . .?” Or, must imposters too have a clear aim that echoes but is significantly differentiated from those other authors who have written in this field?

Imposters dismiss the author—why in the academy do scholars continue to dispute about author names and order? Who is/must be the first, the second, and the third author of this article? And this order always creates trouble. Does it really matter? But writing in the academy makes it matter: There are metrics and outputs, there is surveillance of productivity; there are rules and etiquette that govern who is who in writing, what can be written from and for the academy. These technologies of governmentality (Rose, 1999; Rose & Miller, 2013) flow and flood imposters’ understandings of and practices towards this product. Here! If one of the imposters is the last author, does that mean that they mean less?

How many imposters are there within this article? [Insert authors’ surnames] But what about Foucault, Derrida, Hall, IKEA, Pirandello, the copywriter, the art director, other managers, leaders, and scholars . . . who else? Don’t forget the characters in the ads . . . and all those ghostly, imaginary producers of meaning and action, actors and pretenders who see/saw the ad . . . an endless line and lineage of authors.

January 22, 2015

Imposters probably could use Foucault almost like a master of ceremonies; as the compere, as the person who introduces the other characters; he provides continuity between the different speakers. Maybe Foucault can provide a smooth link between the others? How might imposters conjure that kind of Foucault? As servant to imposters’ whims? As a foil for imposters’ experimental, exploratory corruptions of author/ship? Perhaps, in death, he’d like that?

Foucault may be in the sidebar, or the concept of power and knowledge. Foucault will be imposters’ space to bring power in, question the notion of the stable and docile subject. Maybe imposters could talk about the ethics of care and the notion of care for self and the self-disciplining practices that are inherent in writing in the academy (and indeed, in producing text in/for any organization). How do imposters constitute themselves, these characters, these theories as authors without a stable subjectivity or subject position? There is a tension here on how imposters create multiplicity: As soon as they give voice to someone over the author, they create the type of author.

Imposters also have relationships with the characters from the IKEA ad. Do the imposters equalize IKEA characters with other characters/authors like Derrida, Hall, and so on? How might or should the imposters make these voices/authors work toward their conclusions?

Imposters can be promiscuous in the ways they use the theoretical positions of these supposedly great men (Hall, Barthes, Derrida, etc.). This promiscuous use of these writers is consonant with their position that questions the concept of intentionality in directing a text. Perhaps, along this line, imposters need to flaunt their “indiscipline” (Halberstam, 2011) in the interpretive and mediating work that they do here . . . in the in-betweenesses of textual productions and textual consumptions. As such, text is treated as a resource instead of its more usual positioning as a representation of (fixed and determinable) meaning, of a/some “truth.” This promiscuity legitimates imposters’ lack of “seriousness and rigour” (Halberstam, 2011) in outlining and trying to fix the theoretical position(s) or argumentation structures of each of these authors. Even in invoking these writers of philosophy and cultural theory, imposters reject the idea of the coherent author accessed through those texts produced by them—especially when those texts have been mediated and (re)disciplined by so many others who . . . came after them? . . . have (re)interpreted and thus shaped imposters’ understandings of their meanings?

In practicing thus, in these tricksterish acts and arts of author/ship, perhaps imposters are introducing a multiplicity of tiny authors. Deleuze and Guattari (1987) speak about tiny/small beginnings, a thousand plateaus as an alternative to the grand stable notion of entity or author. Instead of imposters projecting or citing or underlining or interpreting, imposters are creating multiple tiny authors, through this constellation of writing authorship.

There is also an issue of representation. What will be the structure of the paper—if any—especially as imposters have multiple positionings and conversations happening simultaneously, a/synchronously? How might imposters document multiplicity? How, through the structure of the text, might imposters work against the authorial voice? Maybe imposters could delete/add things and, in some ways, show the movement within the text; with different writers coming in and commenting . . . comments and observations that break the authorial voice. When some imposter writes something and shares with another, the others can add or delete what the first writes. Add and delete and create/write texts . . .

Event 4: Giovanni and Matteo Shopping

Event 5: Author/Ship Talking Back to Research Contexts

In conventional humanistic research (see also St. Pierre, 2011), the question of author/ship—when it is raised—is addressed through “dialogic, collaborative, and composite modes of writing and research to foster more open and responsive relations between academics and the communities with whom they work” (Frow & Morris, 2005, p. 330). Following this tradition, some scholars use the very well-known expression research with rather than on participants to connote the kind of research which seeks the involvement of participants, so that they become co-authors of research. However, and as an example of how such co-authorship might operate in practice, Sinha and Back (2014), in their study of the experiences of young adult migrants in the United Kingdom, proposed including the name of one of their participants as author. Thus, “the author’s attribution should read ‘Les Back and Shamser Sinha with Charlynne Bryan’” (p. 483). This proposed strategy exposed some institutional limitations because the publisher queried the name of the research participant as a full author.

Although this incident is a fairly banal example, it speaks to the mundane practices that discipline, structure and are structured in accepted ideas of “author/ship” for authoring academic texts. And, in the context of this work, just like the normativizing and disciplinary practices that shape and govern the production of academic texts, so too are those texts that speak to and for organizational diversity. Organizational texts that extol the virtue of “diversity” are intertextually entwined in the (hegemonic) cultural zeitgeist in which they appear and are consumed. In this sense then, the IKEA ad that imposters use as an exemplar in this article is not “original,” it has not solely originated from the brilliance of its creatives and copy editors. This ad has its genesis and propagation in the tilth of a range of neoliberal agendas that value the domestication of (some forms of) sexual difference in the service of capital.

According to Coffey (1996), the ethnographer/researcher takes on the role of author when she or he sifts the field, collects interviews and observations, writes field notes and, in the end, composes the ethnography: “Fieldnotes and subsequent descriptions of the field thus depend upon how the social researcher (as author) constructs conversations, actions, and events into a narrative and descriptive form” (p. 66). This process creates characters and a social world, which depend on authors’ conscience, personal meanings, interpretations, presence, and understandings. This idea of researcher as author is charged with a romantic aura (the author is the inspired genius or the creator) and locates the researcher in a position of power: She or he is the authorial authority that has the power to make alive a field, a culture, a group, a community, an organization . . . She or he is the authorial authority from which something originates. Following this line of thought, the researcher threads herself or himself into the (dead-end) street of the search for authentic voice and vocality. Indeed, very often in the literature on qualitative research and ethnography, author and authority go together with issues of voice and vocality, which, in turn, are intimately connected with the troubling of writing (MacLure, 2009). Such textual representations fix on a paper just a moment of the life of a group, and there is always something that exceeds what is written. Moreover, text “might carry undetected, unwelcome traces of colonialism, racism and gendered privilege” (MacLure, 2009, p. 99), and so becomes fertile ground for feelings of guilt and blame on the part of the researcher. The author/researcher who recognizes this problem or feels this guilt becomes keen to find different ways of analyzing and writing that attempts to give voice to the participants, to value their lives, to tell their stories; she or he longs to listen to what they said, when they read, what she or he writes (Brettell, 1993): This “can be a test of the authority of the ethnographer as author” (Coffey, 1996, p. 70).

Who wrote these sentences? Is it one of the imposters? She or he does not recognize herself anymore in these words. To whom do these sentences belong?

In feminist ethnography, the

“burden of authorship” has always been a concern (Behar & Gordon, 1995), with authorship being associated with attempts to dominate “the other”: a masculine reach for power that stands in contrast to feminist ideals. The ethnographer must always, therefore, begin by showing that she is “writing from home,” situated, positioned and able to reflect on her own perspective. (Gilmore & Kenny, 2015, p. 59)

In recognizing this problematic, researchers are exhorted to potentially adopt reflexivity (in its different forms) to account to/for the power inherent in the authorial position, thus rendering the bases of the writer’s interpretative processes explicit. For example, Fine (1994) suggested that the researcher work in the hyphen between Self–Other; this power relationship is very often exploitative and asymmetrical because when researchers enter the field, observe, listen to, interpret, and write, they run the risk of colonizing the lives of others (Graneck, 2013) in distancing “. . . them by writing their voices out of our research and treating them as generalized abstractions” (Cunliffe & Karunanayake, 2013, p. 365).

Barthes (1982) proposed that “the author performs a function, the writer an activity” (p. 186), and the author’s only responsibility is to support literature through failure and missed commitment. The author’s actions are to be immanent in its object, and a writer writes with its paradoxical instrument; one’s own writing. “The author conceives of literature as an end, the world restores it to him as a means” (Barthes, 1982, p. 187). An author is a salaried priest or national treasure explains Barthes. What does a missed commitment and evident failure of a priest or treasure do to other imposters and possible authors?

Event 7: Absence Talking to Presence

“What is absent but present (Derrida, 1967) in this ad? How might readers welcome the other when processing and working through it?” Let’s imagine, then, that one of the two men (the one without the IKEA bag) is a woman. As soon as the man without the bag becomes a woman, other readings can be constructed. So let’s say, this is a copy, a variation in the original version of the heterosexual couple. They appear to be in love. They reproduce the ideal of the beautiful, healthy, heterosexual couple, in which it’s the man who carries the heavy bag (and with the bag, the money and the bread too). Therefore, a relationship of subordination/power is immediately established between the man and the woman. The man is active and the woman is passive. The man is strong and the woman is weak.

Furthermore, what material phenomena are missing from these ads? There are no children. In the IKEA bag, there are some toys and the children are with their grandparents. Or maybe, there are no children because the woman in the couple is sterile or is it perhaps the man who’s sterile? Or both? Or maybe the woman is a bit self-centered and focused on her job and doesn’t want any children. Imposters might wonder—who is it who wears the trousers in this family? And yet a proper family requires the presence of a father, a mother, and at least one child (two would be perfect, and if one was a boy and the other one was a girl that would be even better, because it would reproduce the perfect heterosexual family). Does this really work as a family?

Another thing—the characters in the ad have their backs to the viewers. What are they trying to hide? Why don’t they show their faces? Maybe they’ve been shoplifting. These two lovers have slipped into IKEA and stolen some sheets to put on their new bed. And the bed has been put in the new “love-nest” they’ve just got ready, all furnished from IKEA. The textual and authorial possibilities are endless.

And here imposters are with even more new sexual possibilities. Who knows what else there might be in that bag. What sex toys for their hidden pleasures might be in there? What kinds of perversions might emerge from that bag?

(Readers and imposters hold an IKEA bag—performative)

Oh, there’re lots of interesting objects. Look at this!

(Readers and imposters mime)

Oh, it’s a whip! And these are handcuffs and there are leather belts, some lubricant jelly, hair removing cream and vibrators, sexy underpants . . .

Event 8 a: “To Do and Organize”

There are other different ways through which one can author or interact with these authored company ads. Imposters can glimpse at them: as an example of how gay culture is spread through processes of globalization; as artifacts designed to sell both products and an idea of the family to the gay community; as an example of contemporary advertising by business companies and multinationals aimed specifically at gay people (other examples around the world are some of GAP’s, Ray-Ban’s, and Tiffany & Co.’s); as a way for IKEA to present themselves as enlightened, progressive multinationals in favor of gay rights. Through this ad, IKEA is authoring itself as one of the best companies for gay families, suggesting that the gay family is just another lifestyle choice, a historical innovation produced by demographic changes, together with changes in people’s attitudes.

This ad might function as an expression of the institutional imperative that entered many multinational companies and is encapsulated by expressions such as Equality and Diversity, Diversity Neutral, and Diversity Management. These mantras are aimed at recognizing and valuing differences. As some studies in the field have underlined (e.g., Richardson & Monro, 2012), the discourse of valuing diversity draws on discourses on economic value and moral value and is based on the belief that if organizations recognize, protect, and value differences—reducing discrimination and achieving fairness both in employment practices and in promoting organizations as tolerant of diversity—this in turn produces benefit for organizations and their businesses (e.g., Colgan, 2011; Guillaume, Dawson, Woods, Sacramento, & West, 2013).

Oswick and Noon (2014) chart the discursive shifts between the interrelated concepts of “Equality,” “Diversity,” and “Inclusion” in academic organizational literatures across a 40-year period to 2010 and note “. . . a discernible shift of emphasis from ‘equality’ to ‘diversity,’ and more recently towards ‘inclusion’” (p. 31). However, they also highlight the current dominance of the concept of Diversity in this literature but suggest that a discourse of “inclusion” may well become the more fashionable discourse of anti-discriminatory organizational practices—especially in the United States and by early adopters of such discursive fashions in organizational practice. Notwithstanding their cyclical fashionability and the more searching question of whether they represent rhetoric or reality in organizational diversity practices, these discourses, which celebrate differences, turn out to obscure the heterogeneity within the identity categories (such as “gay” and “lesbian”) that they deploy to represent their valuing of difference/s. For example, while ostensibly offering support to gay and lesbian people in their pursuit of full citizenship, organizational articulations/interventions that privilege recognition of domestic(ated) civil partnerships simultaneously exclude (or at least occlude) from the public debate non-normative sexualities that find resonance in single-dom, bisexuality, trans-identifications, and polyamory.

Event 8b: Merging Absences of Authors, Gayness, and Organizational Studies

Throughout these pages, imposters have tried to appreciate how the rejection of the author/writer/researcher/manager provides the opportunity to take a sideways glance at the implicit “gayness” of the textual characters. It allows imposters to produce different knowledge and produce knowledge differently in/for organizations; question ideas and practices of organizational diversity and, consequently, to que(e)ry organization studies more generally. Clearly, some of the events that appear here, thanks to the license provided by the death of the author, slide into gender trouble or undoing gender (Butler, 1990, 2004) territory. In other words, these texts attempt to break apart the heterosexual matrix, that is, the neat fit, defined as natural, and thus right and respectable between biological sex, gender identity, and sexual desire that (re)produces normativity: heteronormativity and homonormativity within organizational discourses and texts. Civilization disciplines and categorizes bodies and desires and suppresses the expression of desire in all its possible multiple playful forms.

Civilization is also enacted by the idea of the author. Author/ship disciplines. The potential death of the author has allowed imposters, on one hand, to explore different ways to write an academic text, to do qualitative research, and to produce knowledge in the academic field of organization studies, and on the other, to explore the ad and “liberate” it from its regulatory/fixed meanings. Meanings of the texts are never fixed but always defer to other (also sexual) meanings, a chain to be followed ad infinitum. And this fun shows how the five IKEA customers (including three imposters) live in-betweenness; probably all imposters (researchers/customers/managers/authors) live between normality and abnormality, virtue and sin, purity and perversion, and monogamy and polygamy.

In the end, such ads, and (other) organizational discourses, normativize and discipline sexual identity through the idea(l)s of couple relationship, thus assimilating it within a neoliberal, hetero- and homonormative model (Duggan, 2002). As Duggan (2002) outlines, the idea(l) of homonormativity emerged in the United States from the conflict between neoliberalism and public expressions of, and fights for, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) rights. Those who supported the libertarian aspects of neoliberalism, promoting unregulated individual rights and freedom of expression in public, were presented with a dilemma—how to unregulate individual sexual rights while regulating diverse representations of LGBTQ identity in the public sphere. A solution to this dilemma was founded in the economic weight of the Pink Pound and in holding out the possibility of gay couple-dom and, ultimately gay marriage as the ultimate form of acceptable and respectable non-normative sexuality.

According to Duggan, the gay marriage discourse allowed conservative gays (almost all men) to shift the focus of non-heteronormative sexual freedom and rights from the public sphere to the domestic and the home. This reframing of LGBT freedom as a domestic freedom led to a curious inversion of public/private influence. Duggan (2002) described the strategy:

This highly visible and influential center-libertarian-conservative-classical liberal formation in gay politics aims to contest and displace the expansively democratic vision represented by progressive activists such as Urvashi Vaid, replacing it with a model of a narrowly constrained public life cordoned off from the “private” control and vast inequalities of economic life. This new formation is not merely a position on the spectrum of gay movement politics but is a crucial new part of the cultural front of neoliberalism in the United States. (p. 177)

And from this dynamic, two leading social forces of homonormativity emerged: gay domesticity and gay consumerism. The IKEA ad encapsulates both these forces and, at the same time, precludes the possibilities for other non-normative sexual identities that hold with more fluid, flexible, and changing ideas of sexual identity to feel represented. IKEA’s message is significant in a context such as Italy, where non-married couples living together have no legal rights (whether gay or not) and where gay couples cannot have or adopt children. As such, the kind of strategy most obviously readable from the advertisement risks being effective from the viewpoint of non-normative sexuality in very partial and particular ways. In addition, one of the results of the campaign was to radicalize and re-frame the debate into age-old irreconcilably opposed positions.

In conclusion, what imposters have shown through their dealings with this text is that, if the author is dead (unknown, unknowable, irrelevant, or absent), there are multiple options available when encountering organizational texts that claim to celebrate and promote (sexual) diversity: