Gay You, Gay Me
15/11/05 08:18
"I am
gay. I am different, but I am not weird. I am not
inferior. I am normal, I am one of the guys."
This is a quote from a recently out young gay man from California. It's from an email in which he discusses his agreement with Andrew Sullivan's essay "The End of Gay Culture." The poli-sci major from USC played football his high school, hunted, and did all the "guy things" all his life. Friends and acquaintances, he says, were shocked that he was gay due to the stereotypes they carried of gay folk. He ends with "I am one of the guys."
It's must be odd growing up white and gay. You can hide the fact you're gay. Thus, if white, you can "masquerade" as a de facto straight boy/man and guarantee yourself equal treatment. You can guarantee yourself the fruits of the privileged.
I am black. I cannot hide the fact that I am black. It is written on my skin. Thus, any stereotypes, preconceptions or prejudices one may hold against me will come into play the moment someone sets their eyes on me. This is a fact of my existence. It's a fact with which every black man, woman, and child must come to grips in the best way possible (just as every woman, Asian, etc. must). At points in American history, it has been a step beyond the yellow star stuck to your coat. It was the perceived taint painted on your flesh.
Even today, you deal with a white co-worker at a mandated company get together saying to you, "Of course, you know how to rap, right?" Such mind-boggling ignorance. You're tempted to dismiss it. But then you wonder, "in the course of a workday, what other assumptions has this woman made about me because of my skin color?"
I feel a little saddened on reading the email from the young, white gay man. I feel sad because of his insistence that he's just like every other white boy. He mentions fear of rejection, seemingly fear of rejection, of no longer being considered "one of the boys," but how did he feel when he heard and giggled along with the rest to, the faggot jokes in the locker room? Did that fear of rejection ever lead to shame? With what doubts about himself did he struggle? To read his email, it is as if, to date, he has been accepted, and therefore not of that had any lasting effect on him.
That may be the case. If so, I am doubly saddened. That would mean that there is yet one more white man out there who chooses not to acknowledge what it's like to be on the other side... to be not of the privileged caste... to have a piece inside you that the majority does not know, may applaud, hate, or be indifferent to, but that is special to you, that has caused you to reflect a bit more than the average man, that has opened your eyes a bit wider to people who may not be just like you, that has forced you to look at your fellows with eyes a bit more accepting and less prejudicial.
White gays I have known who were so insistent on their "just one of the guys" status always struck me as protesting too much. It was as if they were desperate to maintain their privileged status as white males, and just could not abide that something as small as sucking dick would deny them those rights. Thus they rail and rant that they're just like straight men, and to prove it, too often showed the same intolerance, myopia, prejudice that represents the worst of the breed.
Sullivan is right in that acceptance of gays is advancing, particularly within the new generations coming age. However, I hope that acceptance does not blind gays to the fact of the inherent tension in stating both, "I am different," and "I am one one of the guys" in the same sentence. There is a tension there, and to acknowledge it is to dig deeper into oneself, to know oneself just a little better.
I am black and gay. Sometimes, I am just one of the guys. Sometimes I am not. Would it be that different if I were white and gay? Would it be different for white gay men if they wore their gayness on their skins?
Guess we'll never know.
This is a quote from a recently out young gay man from California. It's from an email in which he discusses his agreement with Andrew Sullivan's essay "The End of Gay Culture." The poli-sci major from USC played football his high school, hunted, and did all the "guy things" all his life. Friends and acquaintances, he says, were shocked that he was gay due to the stereotypes they carried of gay folk. He ends with "I am one of the guys."
It's must be odd growing up white and gay. You can hide the fact you're gay. Thus, if white, you can "masquerade" as a de facto straight boy/man and guarantee yourself equal treatment. You can guarantee yourself the fruits of the privileged.
I am black. I cannot hide the fact that I am black. It is written on my skin. Thus, any stereotypes, preconceptions or prejudices one may hold against me will come into play the moment someone sets their eyes on me. This is a fact of my existence. It's a fact with which every black man, woman, and child must come to grips in the best way possible (just as every woman, Asian, etc. must). At points in American history, it has been a step beyond the yellow star stuck to your coat. It was the perceived taint painted on your flesh.
Even today, you deal with a white co-worker at a mandated company get together saying to you, "Of course, you know how to rap, right?" Such mind-boggling ignorance. You're tempted to dismiss it. But then you wonder, "in the course of a workday, what other assumptions has this woman made about me because of my skin color?"
I feel a little saddened on reading the email from the young, white gay man. I feel sad because of his insistence that he's just like every other white boy. He mentions fear of rejection, seemingly fear of rejection, of no longer being considered "one of the boys," but how did he feel when he heard and giggled along with the rest to, the faggot jokes in the locker room? Did that fear of rejection ever lead to shame? With what doubts about himself did he struggle? To read his email, it is as if, to date, he has been accepted, and therefore not of that had any lasting effect on him.
That may be the case. If so, I am doubly saddened. That would mean that there is yet one more white man out there who chooses not to acknowledge what it's like to be on the other side... to be not of the privileged caste... to have a piece inside you that the majority does not know, may applaud, hate, or be indifferent to, but that is special to you, that has caused you to reflect a bit more than the average man, that has opened your eyes a bit wider to people who may not be just like you, that has forced you to look at your fellows with eyes a bit more accepting and less prejudicial.
White gays I have known who were so insistent on their "just one of the guys" status always struck me as protesting too much. It was as if they were desperate to maintain their privileged status as white males, and just could not abide that something as small as sucking dick would deny them those rights. Thus they rail and rant that they're just like straight men, and to prove it, too often showed the same intolerance, myopia, prejudice that represents the worst of the breed.
Sullivan is right in that acceptance of gays is advancing, particularly within the new generations coming age. However, I hope that acceptance does not blind gays to the fact of the inherent tension in stating both, "I am different," and "I am one one of the guys" in the same sentence. There is a tension there, and to acknowledge it is to dig deeper into oneself, to know oneself just a little better.
I am black and gay. Sometimes, I am just one of the guys. Sometimes I am not. Would it be that different if I were white and gay? Would it be different for white gay men if they wore their gayness on their skins?
Guess we'll never know.