Mackle-less Please?

Nobody called me a Faggot this week. So I'm back to writing fluff about fluff. 

I have a bit of imposter syndrome from last week's blog post. Most of my life does not involve advocating for the LGBTQ community. That’s not to say I don’t WANT to be an advocate…

It's just that I am not necessarily informed about many LGBTQ concerns until I encounter them firsthand. And it's surprising and fun that people are even interested in my point of view. 

Generally speaking, my realm of queer experience is kind of puny. I’m still largely preoccupied with figuring out how to get my Bieber bangs to do that swoopy thing (Oh Tegan and Sara, why don’t I know your stylist??? It’s an unjust world).

And being gay FEELS the same as being straight. So I forget I’m unstraight all the time. 

When I was in a heterosexual relationship, my sexuality was an itty bitty inconsequential part of my identity. I didn't re-realize multiple times a day that I was...whoa...with a MAN. 

But now that my partner is a woman, the outside world forces me to regularly re-out myself. I'm startled into acknowledging my gayness by the reactions of others many times a day. As a consequence, it has been difficult not to mistake my sexual identity for my entire identity. 

And here’s the secret… my gay life eerily resembles my previous straight life. 

I go to work, I go to the gym, I come home, I write letters, I juice things, I make food, I eat food, I clean, I watch movies, I play scrabble, I juice things, I convince Marvin that my face is not a cat bed. And I juice things. (Ask me about my new juicer, I dare you.) I can most often be found on the living room carpet, listening to Bryan Adams while folding origami sharks, drinking cucumber-spinach-apple-ginger-mysteryfridgevegetableend juice, double-fisting kale, pondering the merits of various running shoes and Google image-searching gluten free cinnamon buns. 

Those of you who have known me a long time know that my patterns of behaviour are not really evolving.

And these aspects of daily life have nothing to do with the gay (Although my new juicer is *FABUlouuuuussSSSSSS!!!*).

But lately, my running shoe pondering time has been encroached upon by thoughts of Macklemore. 

Yes, “Same Love”. 

Everyone I’ve talked to about Macklemore thinks I SHOULD love this song. Because I am in a same-sex relationship. At the gym, I swear on my last tofu strip they put this song on EVERY time I start my workout. As Lisa and I exit the changeroom, nine times out of ten it is to a “Same Love” soundtrack. Sheesh. They all KNOW a she keeps me warm, buddy behind the counter, or at least suspect it. I know the poor kids working there are just trying to follow Goodlife policy and make sure Every Body (even my gay body) feels welcome.

I am excited that a song about homosexuality has been so successful in the mainstream media. Initially I liked “Same Love.” I even mentioned it in a blog post after my brother sent me the youtube link. 

I think Macklemore is sharing SUCH an important message. He has a gay uncle (go gay Uncle!), and he wants to help remove homophobic lingo from the hip-hop genre. 

That's an entirely admirable goal. I'm not criticizing that. 

I am, however, criticizing this coat.

And it is unbelievably cool to see homo issues and marriage equality thrust into mainstream discussion. 

It's a kind of positivity brainwashing, and I can get behind that.

I know all this, so I feel like an asshole. Because I GET that it’s supportive. It’s a ra-ra Go Gaymos anthem. How amazing! Right? Right?

Nope. I still feel that I'm being coersed into liking The Gay Song. 

It's like cilantro. I know it's good for my liver, I know it absorbs heavy metal deposits, I know I should like it. But I just don't. 'Same Love" makes me feel the same way. I would rather lick Marvin's eyeball than listen to Macklemore sing about how he mistakenly thought he was a homo in third grade one more time.

Partially, I dislike this song because I’ve heard it approximately seven billion and fifty three times, and have every single lyrical gem permanently inscribed on my brain. It’s invasive. If I memorize a song, it should be intentional, goshdarnit.

But another aspect of this song make me feel conflicted.

My problem boils down to this: I can’t help but feel that a straight dude is capitalizing from playing the homo card.

After all, "Same Love"  employs the best marketing ploy ever… it's truly genius!

In our evolving society, people will rarely openly admit they don't support the LGBTQ community. So everyone has to claim to love “Same Love”. It’s The Gay song. If people admit they DON’t love The Gay Song, they risk appearing homophobic.

In the most extreme view, it's a threat...“Listen to our song, and talk about our song and how much you love our song, or you COULD be branded a discriminating hate-crime doing homo-hating slur-slinging bigot”.

Within mainstream media, Macklemore is perceived as an advocate for the gay community, and he’s not a gay. Maybe that's okay. We need vocal Allies. After all, it's not an "Us" and "Them". It's a "We".

And I AM mindful of that. 

But I can’t help but feel that Macklemore is an opportunist, and that makes me indignant. He is not a member of the community he advocates for (intentionally or otherwise). Macklemore has never experienced homophobia firsthand. That doesn't mean he can't write a song about equality, sure.

But I wish there were more mainstream successful LGBTQ artists introducing issues they have encountered firsthand. (Tegan and Sara have awesome hair, but they don't count. Say what you will, they sound the same as everyone else now, and their whiny snivelling about sexy time problems doesn't exactly positively influence people's views on homosexuality.)

"Same Love" sends a wonderful message, but it simultaneously highlights the fact that many people aren't ready for the LGBTQ community to self-advocate in mainstream forums. It sends the message that homosexuality is okay, but only because a straight guy who doesn't identify with any minority group tells us it is. 

 I’m not the first to notice the potentially problematic nature of a heterosexual man advocating for the gay community. It comes down to this: A hetero dude and an utterly unintimidating femme-y lesbian (albeit a reasonably talented one, I'm not hating on Mary Lambert, since it's really not her song anyways) are the best gay advocates we can find...really?

"Same Love" is HoMo LiTe. The censored, airbrushed, la-la-la Febreezed version.

I know I shouldn't hate the player. It's the game that needs changing. Macklemore himself is just doing what his agents (and popular culture) want to see.  I don't need a rich straight dude with a dyke-y haircut to tell me that GAY IS OKAY (and make a bazillion dollars doing it). 

I am impatient for our world to be at a place where nobody does, and his tunes are judged solely on musical merit. 

I know we'll get there eventually, but I am impatient. 

 I can't wait until the day when Mary Lambert gets to sing a gay song with a couple of super butchy backup dancers, while Macklemore sings a falsetto bridge in drag. 

Then I'll listen.

Unrelated note on “Same Love”:

Lisa and I have talked about this a lot.

“I can’t change, even if I wanted to, even if I tried”….I call bullshit. A little bit, anyways.

To claim an inability to change is to ignore the power of individual choice. We are all accountable for the way we live. My sexuality has shifted many times in my life, and will likely continue to evolve. It takes courage to be honest with yourself. And to decide to be open. A side effect of this honesty: I HAVE changed.  

I understand that many people will disagree with me on this. But speaking personally, I have not chosen to be with a woman because I was born gay and can’t change. I have chosen to be with a woman because I have decided to live my life as honestly and openly as possible. And I met a wonderful individual who also happened to be female.

Yup, that's the one!

And no, I don’t think that all women are sexually attracted to other women or that all men are attracted to other men. But I am sure that many more are than will admit to it. And I DO think that we choose whether to be courageous and act according to our current truth. Many choose not to.

We always have a choice in our follow through. People choose to act or not act on their attraction to other people. Being with another person romantically is a conscious decision.

Many factors influence who we find attractive, and our genetic makeup is only a small piece of the puzzle.

I hope I always choose to honestly examine my desires, and to act on my attraction to fantastic people, rather than their body parts. 

Whether or not those attractions fit within the parameters of my current sexual label. Whether or not it takes changing that label to continue living my truth.

Hey! Lesbians! Hoorah!

A few weeks ago, during Pride, a friend asked me why we still need to celebrate Pride. This wonderful human said that everyone she knows lovingly accepts LGBTQ folks, and welcomes us into their lives and communities. And there ARE so many amazing, supportive heterosexual allies out there. I understand how it might seem redundant to celebrate sexual minorities, since so many are incredible advocates for diversity.

It is true that most of my queer friends don’t regularly experience overt displays of homophobia, but every single one I’ve spoken with has at some point encountered some form of discrimination or harassment.

Last night, Lisa and I were on our way to our first ever St. John’s Dyke Dance. We were meeting up with a good crew of people beforehand, and were both looking forward to our evening out. As we walked down the street together, a car full of young intoxicated men drove past us. As they sped by us, one leaned his head and shoulders out the window and shouted “FAGGOTS!!”.

We heard the others laughing hysterically over the blaring bass as they drove away. Lisa and I stopped and stared after the vehicle in disbelief.

My initial reaction was to their word choice. Faggots? A “faggot” is a derogatory term used to describe a homosexual MALE. I’m certain neither Lisa nor myself fit this category (obviously the perpetrator’s queer education was spotty at best).

 Before either of us had time to process what had just happened, another car approached.

This was the kicker.

Less than thirty seconds later. A car full of young women drove by, and at least two of them screamed “LESBIANS!” at us, with an “F*ing” thrown in for good measure.

What they were saying is 100% true. It is a fact. We are lesbians. Thank you, Captain Obvious.

But I still don’t think those ladies deserve gold star stickers.

Because this wasn’t a “Hey! Lesbians! Hoorah!”.

 Twice, in less than a minute. Honestly, I was shocked. This was a main road through downtown St. John’s. Minutes from our home.

Lisa and I WEREN’T EVEN TOUCHING each other. We were walking down the street. At nine P.M. With at least a metre between us.

What hit me the most was how much hate was packed into those two moments. And it was the first time that brand of fear and hatred was blatantly directed at me.

Lisa looked at me sadly and said “Welcome to the club, Baby”.

It’s a club I don’t want to be a part of. And I don’t want anyone else to have to be part of it either.

Those two carloads were drunk, closed-minded, confused and insecure young people trying to impress their buddies. I was able to view them as such, with a little reminder from someone older and wiser (Lisa). I was able to shrug it off and go on to have a fantastic evening full of dancing and friends and fun. But I'm lucky. I have a wonderfully supportive family and friends and work environment. I have reached an age where I am not ashamed to honestly, openly and unapologetically express my individuality. I think it’s safe to say those two homophobic displays won’t have any lasting effects on my self-perception. I’m pretty okay with who I am, even as a Faggoty Fucking Lesbian.

While those goons haven’t damaged my psyche, people like that DO affect my behaviour. I don’t want to invite negative attention. As a result, I never kiss Lisa in public, even on the cheek, or hug her, without first looking around to see who might be watching. “I love you” is said quietly and quickly. When we hold hands, I reflexively steel myself against the inevitable catcalls and stares.

Alcohol removes inhibitions. Those two cars of young people more than likely wouldn’t have tossed out homophobic slurs if they were sober, or would have had to face us afterwards, but they still would have been thinking it. And that’s where the problem lies. Even when they’re not expressing hate verbally, they’re thinking it.

I’m not the first to say it, but it bears repeating:

Tolerance is not acceptance.

My choice in who I love is not something other people should have to endure.

 Who I sleep with, who I live with, who I build a life with, is no one’s business but mine. No one, barring myself and my partner, gets to have an opinion.

After all, I didn’t follow those same folks to the bar and dictate which new drunk buddy should share their bed. It’s not my bits they’re gonna diddle. So I don’t get to say anything. See how that works?

Until diversity is the norm, accepted and welcomed, all of us still have work to do. Those young people hurling insults from car windows were recently children, and children learn how to move through the world from the adults in their lives. Someone taught those young men and women to fear and hate difference.

I know that I’m preaching to the choir with this blog post. But I’m also guessing that most of us have silent (or not-so-silent) homophobes in our lives. Maybe they’re not yelling at gay folks from their car windows, but they’re still cracking gay jokes and they’re definitely not self-identifying as Allies.

They’re the people who give us too much room as they pass on the sidewalk. They’re the folks giving us dirty looks when we sneak a kiss at the movie theatre. They’re the ones pulling their children closer when I smile at them. They’re the family members who call our partners our “friends”, thereby refusing to acknowledge the legitimacy and equality of our love. And these are the people we need to encourage into discussing issues of equality. 

Even if that makes them uncomfortable. ESPECIALLY if that makes them uncomfortable. Because these are the people teaching their children that being different is being less. 

And that’s just not legit.

We still need Pride. We still need an opportunity to celebrate diversity and equality, and bring LGBTQ issues to the forefront. We still need to encourage allies to voice their support. We still need to teach the next generation a message of acceptance.

Until gay men can donate blood. Until trans* folks can use whichever bathroom they prefer without discussion. Until sexual minorities are no longer targets of hate crimes. Until Lisa and I can have a destination wedding wherever we choose.

Until it’s not a thing anymore, it’s still a thing.

We’ve come a long way, baby, but we’re not there yet.