Since joining Tumblr, I’ve met a lot of young queer people. Look, I’m a bisexual man in a gay relationship, and I’m approaching 30. I was still a kid when Matthew Shepard’s story was being covered on the news. I remember thinking, “I better keep my mouth shut about these feelings I’m having.”
And then I met Dominic when I was 12, and people could see how in love we were. And we got the shit beat out of us. The year I met him, some kids in the grade above me held me down against the bleachers in our gym and stomped on my hand until my fingers broke. Instead of sending me to the nurse, the teacher sent me to the assistant principal to explain the situation. She asked why the kids had beat me up. I said, “They were calling me gay.”
Her response was, “Well, are you?”
My, “I don’t know,” earned a call to my parents, and I was outed. Efforts were made to keep me from seeing Dom. Throughout high school, Dom’s stepmother intensified these efforts. He slept in the basement of the house. Although he was an incredibly talented student, he was prohibited from participating in any extracurriculars. He suffered a lot of physical abuse during those years.
The day he turned 18, he packed up everything he had and walked to my house, and we’ve lived together ever since. Things are better, but they’re not perfect. I’ve had trucks pull up next to me at stoplights and, seeing the pride sticker on my car, through old drinks and garbage into my window. I no longer speak to my dad’s side of the family. I haven’t been to see them for Christmas or Thanksgiving in years. One of my uncles had cornered me at Thanksgiving when I was 17 and said, “I’m not going to judge you, but I’d be happy to break your neck so God can do the judging a little sooner.”
I joined a support group for trans and intersex people. When I joined, 40 people attended regularly. Within the year, the group was half the size it had been. Some couldn’t make it anymore, because they were staying at the shelter, where their stay hinged on them agreeing to instead to attend homophobic sermons. Some were put in correctional therapy. Five of them died. Three of those, I didn’t know, but I knew Alex, the 19 year old who was fag-dragged in Kentucky and died a day later in the hospital, and I knew Stephanie, who went home to Alabama to care for her mom in hospice and was beaten to death with a baseball bat by her mom’s boyfriend.
Tumblr is not reality. The dynamic here does not reflect the dynamic out there. Here’s the part where I finally make a point, and it might be extremely unpopular – but guys, value your allies. Value each other. We are met with enough hate in our daily lives to enter an online safe-space and meet more hate from our own, over petty things. Don’t go after one another over every little thing you find problematic.
Learn to see nuance. Maybe the word “queer” bothers you, and you see a gay man using it as an umbrella term. Maybe someone called a trans man a trans woman because they’re confused about terminology, but the post where they did it was voicing support for the trans community. Maybe someone is just asking a question, wanting to learn more. Stop. Attacking. These. People.
Allies are being driven away. Members of our own community are being ostracized. Others are feeling nervous and estranged, and it’s largely because of places like Tumblr, where the social justice movement is quickly becoming violent and radical. I am begging you, stop nitpicking “problematic” things and start directing your efforts to create real change. When it comes to comes to your allies, forget the “social justice warrior” mentality and put down your torch. Educate calmly. Be respectful. Be understanding. Be forgiving. And I’m certainly not saying that your anger doesn’t have a good place – when you are met with bigots on the street, congress members who want to pass hateful laws, violent protesters, abusive parents, prejudiced teachers, that is when you need to be a warrior. That’s when it counts. In the real world. When you have the opportunity to protect people from real harm. Attacking your would-be allies via anonymous asks is just going to lose us ground in the long run. And we don’t have time for that, not when trans women of color are being murdered every day, not when states are still fighting against marriage equality, not when there are politicians in office who believe that trans people are possessed by demons, not when we’ve just lost 50 brothers and sisters to one gunman, not when the media won’t even admit that the attack was homophobic.
Please step back. Look at the big picture. Look at where we are, globally. Don’t just log on to your safe space and attack your allies over small missteps. That’s like washing the dishes in a house that’s on fire, kids. Let’s fight on the battlefield, and when we come home to each other, let’s just focus on bandaging up our wounds so we can go out and win the war.
Signal boost to this unbelievably important message.
I’d reblog this a thousand times if I could.
Stop attacking allies. Educate. Not hate.
This is incredibly important. Please read!
Educate calmly. Be respectful. Be understanding. Be forgiving.
Gonna Reblog this every time
Reblogging because this is really fucking important
This is so important there is enough hate out in the world already .try to be alittle kinder to each other .love not hate.
Good advice.
I sometimes wonder if the disproportionate anger I see among those of us who should all be on the same side is transference. We can’t retaliate against the ones who hurt us most, the ones who break bones and pass cruel laws and yell slurs in RL. The things we can do to change their behavior are slow and indirect: joining in protests, supporting lawsuits, voting, educating, explaining the basics over and over to people who are somehow still ignorant.
So when a person on social media uses the wrong pronouns or a term that’s no longer appropriate, or disagrees with us on the nature of the word “queer”, etc, etc, we unleash the frustrated burning fury of a thousand nazi-punching suns on them. We try to gatekeep our community so that it feels as safe as possible for us. We don’t want to do the work of educating and tolerating and openness and patience, for the millionth time. We’re tired and we only want allies who will support us exactly and precisely on OUR terms. Don’t we deserve that?
And that understandable feeling….has a lot in common with “I won’t vote unless there’s a candidate I can genuinely support” and “Anything said by any person in X demographic is garbage” and “I don’t care how much good this program is doing, one of the people involved has done or said a Bad Thing in the past and so the whole enterprise must be shunned”.
(I’m using “we” here not to try and claim any kind of membership or entitlement, but to acknowledge shared responsibility. I get frustrated too. But perfect is the enemy of done, in activism as much as in art or business. Now more than ever, what matters is that the work gets done.)
A lot of it is indeed transference, I think. People are angry, someone has to get hit, they’re not gonna hit someone who’d crush them in retaliation.
Tag: homophobia
Stop treating words like “gay” and “lesbian” like they’re bad words that can’t be said around children. They aren’t. Quit treating us like something inappropriate that should be shielded from pure eyes.
Stop treating queer relationships as if they’re more sexual than straight relationships. Newsflash, they aren’t. They can be just as innocent and pure as hetero relationships. They are not inherently sexual.
Stop telling us to not wear or have or say “gay” things because “you might anger someone!” Yet not telling them to stop saying crud like “ it’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” Maybe their homophobic and misguided comments anger me.
I am tired. Tired of being treated like something dirty. Like something gross. Like my entire existence is something to be wary of and inherently angered by. And I’m sick and tired of it.
lesbian is a porn category. i see myself at ten, hearing it for the first time on the school bus. “what’s that?” i ask. when i get home, i have to ask my mother what “gay” is, and she recoils. says it means “happy.” i trust her. i don’t know she’s not telling the whole truth.
i don’t know that gay also means the opposite. that gay means a snort, a punchline, an insult driven in between comments as if it was the natural resort. that’s so … gay. and lesbian? lesbian is this word dripping with untouchable connotations, somehow slimy and dirty and forbidden at school. during recess, a girl accuses another of being one of them. she gets sent home and we have a talk about how this school doesn’t tolerate bad language. so it means swear word, then.
i used to find myself singing songs i’d make up about pretty girls and shame would crawl up into me until i couldn’t breathe. i forced myself to change the pronouns, even though i was alone, because some part of me knew that it was wrong to be singing about girls. that it wasn’t normal. at thirteen i said i hated boys but when people asked me if i was gay, it was asking if i was damaged. i spat out that i would never be. i couldn’t be. when boys didn’t like my friends, we’d giggle behind our hands that he must be secretly gay. and wasn’t that funny. i’d been taught from fifth grade human sexuality. no one had ever said that girls could appeal to me.
what’s silly is that i knew when i was young and i sort of just boxed it up. i told myself it was a problem for when i was older because it was something dirty and sexual and i knew it was only for adults. at fifteen the word “bisexual” made me laugh. “choose a side,” i said. because i’d heard it said before. i only saw it mentioned when we brought up anyone slutty. that’s the thing, isn’t it? when we erase gayness from our school systems, we let kids find out through media. and gay is a porn category. lesbian is a porn category. bisexual is a porn category.
the first time i fell for a girl, i was doomed. do you know i didn’t realize it was love. do you know that i dreamed about her, made myself sick over her, told myself that i was somehow still straight, even though she made the earth move. it wasn’t until we almost kissed, our mouths minutes apart but missing each other by the bell ringing, did i find myself looking back up “lesbian” “gay” “bisexual” in google. was i okay? was this normal? could this condition be passing? maybe i was just in a phase. everyone said bi people are just experimenting. i still wonder every day – am i really straight? am i really gay? am i lying?
bisexual is still a bad word. it reeks of that middle syllable, emphasis on sex. emphasis on our duality, on our hearts that just want happiness. bisexual is a joke. it is “i’m not into labels” on t.v. and it is “alone” in my life. it is a risk of being kicked out of either community. of belonging to none. of sickness. i say “i’m queer” a lot. recently a girl told me to stop using it, even after all the research and personal reasons i have for using it, because it’s a slur. because anything i could be is a slur.
at seventeen i had no friends because i’d had a girlfriend. she wasn’t even actually my girlfriend, just my friend i kissed often. it was complicated. i still called myself straight then. at eighteen i kissed girls in the darkness, felt them shooting up my veins. they called it a friend kiss, so it was, because it wouldn’t be fair to them. at nineteen i dated a girl because for once i had the option. i didn’t tell my parents even seven months in. once when i am alone and a little drunk i go to see exactly what this porn would be like, if it’s something i would like. glass-eyed women with long fingernails stare into cameras, moaning. their sweat-slicked bodies don’t look like they are enjoying anything. the title reads about how two naughty married women stray from their husbands. they don’t have sex naturally. i turn it off and feel sick to my stomach for days after. when i kiss her, i see them, and i wonder if i’m doing it wrong.
i’m twenty-three and my suitemate says, “it’s not that i have a problem with gays, it’s that i can’t stand watching them do anything like kissing.” so i say nothing. my heart booms against my blood vessels. i have to turn off adblock so i can illegally stream the crystal gems. in my sidebar are girls naked and wet-mouthed and hungry, looking at the camera with letters dancing over their head. i don’t look at them. on facebook is a clickbait article about, “how all girls are secretly lesbians (and how to find out if you’re one of them).” one of them. it turns out that the way is just if you objectively find any other woman attractive. it talks about how all girls are “a little bit gay” if they’re drunk and partying. that a little gayness is alright if nobody is in their right mind.
i see myself typing in those words once again. that frantic, panicked, scary google search. the crime i had to commit while nobody was home. because i knew. i knew somewhere that it was wrong. “what is lesbian?” my little fingers typed. i want to tell myself: don’t look, young one. turn off the screen. go outside. the answers you get will ruin every beautiful thing.
destihellers stop using the canon interracial wlw to prop ur shitty white man ship challenge
artherra 