Further Further Thoughts. . .
Nov. 4th, 2004 08:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kelly_chamblissOkay, I'm calmer now. It has nothing to do with the whiskey sours, nothing at all. I'm not any happier; just calmer.
I might have been too hasty in writing "hate" in my previous comments about attitudes toward gays. Yes, some people do hate gays, and some hate without realizing it, concealing their true emotion in "love the sinner, hate the sin" rhetoric or other mental obfuscations. But many of those who voted to ban gay marriage probably don't hate. They'd never dream of being violent toward gays; many even try hard not to be judgmental. But they can't accept people like me for what we are. Some think homosexuality is morally wrong; others just think it's gross; still others pity us. Many would prefer to ignore homosexuality altogether; they resent having it "flaunted" (a term which to some people appears to mean "mentioned.") If forced to pay attention, like at the polls, they'll let their real feelings be known. But otherwise, they'll be polite and pretend that gays don't really quite exist, the way you'd behave if there was a bad smell at your hostess's party.
When I first came out to a good friend of mine, she said, "Well, I think it's weird and disgusting and just plain wrong. But I want you to know that I'll always be your friend. I just don't want to hear anything about it. I promise never to bring it up again." She thought she was being tolerant and broad-minded. But what she was saying was that she'd be my friend only as long as I wasn't myself. The only way she could deal with me was if I concealed a major part of myself.
I wonder how she would have felt if I had told her, "I'll be your friend. But I don't ever want you to mention it when you see some hunky guy you think is cute; I don't want to hear about your husband; I don't want to know anything about your relationship, good or bad. If you break up, I don't want to know. If you're seeing someone new, I don't want to know. If you fall in love, I don't want to know. If you come to my parties, you have to come alone, or if you bring your husband, you have to act as if he's just some acquaintance or a friend from work. And don't you dare ever touch him in my presence." Because these things are exactly what she was asking of me.
I know that a lot of Americans think like my friend -- and many, many more are not anywhere near as "liberal" she is. Many more see me and people like me as an abomination, as something they would obliterate if they could. And they would think of themselves as moral and righteous for doing so. I have a colleague who told me, very matter-of-factly, even pleasantly, that all gays were of course going to hell. He was sorry, because he liked me, but that's just the way things were. This is the world I live in, and I fear it will only get worse in the next four years. All those gay marriage bans. And they're just the beginning. It's not that I even care about marriage; I think it's a sexist trap; my partner and I wouldn't marry if we could. What scares me is what those bans say about how a large percentage of my fellow Americans think of me and other gays -- as people beyond the pale, people we need laws against, people who don't count as "real" Americans.
So you see why I've gone into LJ-lecture mode, even though I know I'm preaching to the converted as far as most of the people on my friends list are concerned. It's just that I'm the tiniest little bit freaked (can you tell?) about what happened Tuesday, about Bush and the gay bans and the conservative Congress and on and on. And maybe I seem just as judgmental and non-accepting of people who oppose gays as I say they are of me. But there's a major difference: I don't want to ignore or change them or vote to deny them the same rights that I enjoy. And I certainly don't think they're going to hell. I'm afraid, though, that for at least the next four years, that's where we're all going.
I might have been too hasty in writing "hate" in my previous comments about attitudes toward gays. Yes, some people do hate gays, and some hate without realizing it, concealing their true emotion in "love the sinner, hate the sin" rhetoric or other mental obfuscations. But many of those who voted to ban gay marriage probably don't hate. They'd never dream of being violent toward gays; many even try hard not to be judgmental. But they can't accept people like me for what we are. Some think homosexuality is morally wrong; others just think it's gross; still others pity us. Many would prefer to ignore homosexuality altogether; they resent having it "flaunted" (a term which to some people appears to mean "mentioned.") If forced to pay attention, like at the polls, they'll let their real feelings be known. But otherwise, they'll be polite and pretend that gays don't really quite exist, the way you'd behave if there was a bad smell at your hostess's party.
When I first came out to a good friend of mine, she said, "Well, I think it's weird and disgusting and just plain wrong. But I want you to know that I'll always be your friend. I just don't want to hear anything about it. I promise never to bring it up again." She thought she was being tolerant and broad-minded. But what she was saying was that she'd be my friend only as long as I wasn't myself. The only way she could deal with me was if I concealed a major part of myself.
I wonder how she would have felt if I had told her, "I'll be your friend. But I don't ever want you to mention it when you see some hunky guy you think is cute; I don't want to hear about your husband; I don't want to know anything about your relationship, good or bad. If you break up, I don't want to know. If you're seeing someone new, I don't want to know. If you fall in love, I don't want to know. If you come to my parties, you have to come alone, or if you bring your husband, you have to act as if he's just some acquaintance or a friend from work. And don't you dare ever touch him in my presence." Because these things are exactly what she was asking of me.
I know that a lot of Americans think like my friend -- and many, many more are not anywhere near as "liberal" she is. Many more see me and people like me as an abomination, as something they would obliterate if they could. And they would think of themselves as moral and righteous for doing so. I have a colleague who told me, very matter-of-factly, even pleasantly, that all gays were of course going to hell. He was sorry, because he liked me, but that's just the way things were. This is the world I live in, and I fear it will only get worse in the next four years. All those gay marriage bans. And they're just the beginning. It's not that I even care about marriage; I think it's a sexist trap; my partner and I wouldn't marry if we could. What scares me is what those bans say about how a large percentage of my fellow Americans think of me and other gays -- as people beyond the pale, people we need laws against, people who don't count as "real" Americans.
So you see why I've gone into LJ-lecture mode, even though I know I'm preaching to the converted as far as most of the people on my friends list are concerned. It's just that I'm the tiniest little bit freaked (can you tell?) about what happened Tuesday, about Bush and the gay bans and the conservative Congress and on and on. And maybe I seem just as judgmental and non-accepting of people who oppose gays as I say they are of me. But there's a major difference: I don't want to ignore or change them or vote to deny them the same rights that I enjoy. And I certainly don't think they're going to hell. I'm afraid, though, that for at least the next four years, that's where we're all going.