Straightlaced.
I went out to see a very decently-made documentary this evening with the DU Graduate GLBT group. Basically, it was a collection of interviews of high school students from various places concerning sexuality as they have to deal with it in their daily lives. Some were straight, some were gay, some were transgender, some were bi. They commented on things like gender norms, homophobia and the violence associated with it, but above all, how difficult it is to just be you.
It got me to thinking about my own experience in high school, which to some degree was the same. We had a GLBT group at the high school I went to, but I didn't even know of its existence until I started dating a girl who went to it (obviously not something the school made incredibly available or well-publicized). I think most of the kids were probably okay with the queer way of life, but I do remember an incident where I was walking through the parking lot holding my girl's hand and a rock got throw at us. It wasn't that big of a rock, and it didn't even come close to hitting us, but I still remember instantly dropping her hand and refusing to hold it again as we walked the rest of the way into school. I'm ashamed to admit that now.
The truth is, we are all terrified of each other. That's the only explanation that I can find. We are terrified of sexuality that we don't understand, we are terrified of not being accepted so we'll wear short shorts and starve ourselves into being beautiful. We are terrified of what everyone will think of us or do to us if we push back, and insist on expressing ourselves the way we originally intended to.
It's ironic, though, because if we are all really that terrified, why would we have any time to take it out on anyone else?
Let's just have a cease-fire. I won't be scared of you and you won't be scared of me, and we'll live happily ever after.
It got me to thinking about my own experience in high school, which to some degree was the same. We had a GLBT group at the high school I went to, but I didn't even know of its existence until I started dating a girl who went to it (obviously not something the school made incredibly available or well-publicized). I think most of the kids were probably okay with the queer way of life, but I do remember an incident where I was walking through the parking lot holding my girl's hand and a rock got throw at us. It wasn't that big of a rock, and it didn't even come close to hitting us, but I still remember instantly dropping her hand and refusing to hold it again as we walked the rest of the way into school. I'm ashamed to admit that now.
The truth is, we are all terrified of each other. That's the only explanation that I can find. We are terrified of sexuality that we don't understand, we are terrified of not being accepted so we'll wear short shorts and starve ourselves into being beautiful. We are terrified of what everyone will think of us or do to us if we push back, and insist on expressing ourselves the way we originally intended to.
It's ironic, though, because if we are all really that terrified, why would we have any time to take it out on anyone else?
Let's just have a cease-fire. I won't be scared of you and you won't be scared of me, and we'll live happily ever after.