I have experienced the majority of my adult life as a
straight white male. Many in today’s society would call this a privileged life,
but that’s a topic for another post. For all intents and purposes I would agree
with only a few exceptions. There were the odd times I have had experiences to the
contrary. For example, when I and my family where being waited on in an ice
cream shop by a person of color, who in the middle of scooping my family’s ice
cream stopped and scooped ice cream for a large family of color who had walked
into the shop after she started helping my family.
At the time I was so angered I wanted to leave without
paying for the ice cream we had already been served but I calmed myself down
and told myself that I now knew what people of color experienced on a regular
basis. The thought of having to go through life as part of a group who had to
deal with being mistreated like that sickened me. I was raised to treat
everyone as Christ would have, equally and with love, so I couldn’t understand
how anyone could bring themselves to do otherwise.
With the exception of the few isolated experiences my family
and I never had to deal with being the target of someone else’s hate and
disgust because of who or what we were. If you have read my previous posts, you
will know I recently came out as bisexual to my family and have started living
semi openly as such. (I am still closeted at work.) I recently joined a great gay
men’s group in my area because there just aren’t any for bisexuals. From the
first moment I walked in, I was welcomed and accepted like I had always been
part of the group, even though all of the research I had done previously suggested
that gays and lesbians treated bisexuals differently or erased them.
Since this was the first time in my life I felt like I
belonged anywhere and was able to make good friends, I started attending every
event I was able to. The first event I attended was held in a food court space
of a large international retail chain. There were about thirty of us there. To
me it looked just like a group of guys, ranging in age from about 30 to 50,
meeting for coffee on a Saturday morning. No one dressed flamboyantly, or was
overtly feminine to the point that one might look and think, “Well that’s a
group of gay men.”
This cafeteria space is very large and I estimate it would
comfortably hold about 500 to 800 people. As we all sat and talked, families
and couples passed our tables without a second glance. I, being newly out, was acutely
aware of the passers by wondering if I would start to experience looks of
disgust and hate now that I was part of a “Non Privileged Group,” but I didn’t.
This last week I attended a volleyball game sponsored by the
group at a park a few blocks from my house. The group’s rules were specific. These
were to be non-competitive games for all fitness and skill levels. The
goal was simply to have fun. I am currently on medical leave from work so I decided to bring a lawn chair and my camera, then dubbed myself the Official
Team Photographer. There were enough men to have games at two nets. As
more men filtered into the park, the group would regroup and redistribute
players to make certain everyone was included. It was a wonderful experience!
When someone missed the ball, someone else would say, “We Love YOU!” Never once
did I see or hear any negativity and I sat in awe of what a wonderful group of
men I had found to be a part of.
As I said earlier, if you didn’t know this was a gay men’s
group there was really nothing that would make you think so when you saw them
playing volleyball at the park. Again, I was on alert looking to see if anyone
would notice. Admittedly, this is due to my own insecurities about being newly
out and worrying I would now be the target of someone else’s hate. The whole
time we were there I never saw anything that would make me think, “Well here we
go, I am now part of a targeted group,” and I was once again relieved.
Yesterday it was time, once again, to meet for coffee. This
time would be different though. While I was making a new friend we both
happened to look up at the same time and caught a man walking by, who for some
unknown reason or maybe by some means of sorcery, was able to determine the men in this
large group were gay and gave a fleeting glance of disapproval. The guy I was
speaking with said, “Well, he knows and doesn’t approve.” I said, I too had
noticed his disapproval. We then talked about what signals he could possibly have
picked up on because to us it looked like a group of men talking. No one was
running up with hands in the air and excitedly screeching, “Hey Girl!” or “Hey
Bitches!” so what was the clue that gave us away?
Then I thought to myself, “Who cares?!” Frankly, what he
thinks in none of my business anyway. Thankfully, he was smart enough not to engage
any of us about our orientation. I can see it now; it would have ended up on
the nightly news. Thirty gay men ganging up on a straight guy. It wouldn’t have
been pretty. (Just so you know I was grinning as I typed this.)
To be honest, I had expected the worst when I imagined what
my first time experiencing hate would be like because of who I was perceived to
be. I am also smart enough to know there may be a time when it is much worse. I
could be confronted about it, called names because of it, or heaven forbid,
even be in physical danger because of who I now claim to be. I won’t lie I am a bit scared of what
might happen some day. I have yet to be in a same sex relationship, but I have already
been thinking about wanting to hold the hand of the person I am with in public
and being scared of the consequences if I do. I would like to pretend that I
will have a “Fuck them and the horse they rode in on!” attitude but the reality
is that it is far from what I will likely do.
Over 25 years ago, when I still thought I was straight, my
best friend was a gay man. We were on vacation together. On the way home we had stopped for breakfast at a fast food place. He had
gone to get napkins, when I overheard from the booth attached to ours, “What’s
their problem?” from one of the teens sitting next to us. His friend replied, “Oh, they’re GAY!” The
fact that I “overheard” this wasn’t an accident at all. It was said in a louder
than normal tone of voice. I still don’t have the slightest idea what they hoped
to accomplish by saying those things, and I know that homosexuality was viewed
much differently then than it is now. I guess it really doesn’t make sense to
try and understand hate because it is irrational and born from ignorance and
fear at best.
In many ways I do feel lucky for the fact I never had to
experience life back then as a member of the LGBTQ community, and in some ways
it makes me feel like I’m not truly “one of the guys,” because I’ve lived a
straight privileged life for so many years. I will never be able to be thankful
enough for what those who came before me have done to make it easier and safer for
me to live my truth now as an openly bisexual man today. I am certain there
will be times in the future when I will experience hate, but I am confident in
the fact that my new friends will be there for me. I already feel like I am
part of a tightly knit community of love and acceptance that will stand up for
me, because I am me. I couldn’t be more blessed than I am right now.
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