So Whose Job Is It?
Originally published at ipse illum dicto. You can comment here or there.
I didn’t ask to be part of an oppressed minority group. You could make the argument that I chose it, because I discovered that no matter how sincere one is in wishing to change one’s sexual orientation, it’s not possible to do so, and I decided the mental health issues associated with self-identifying as part of an oppressed minority group are less severe than the mental health issues associated with the ongoing, self-loathing battle to be straight. But, nonetheless, life wasn’t fair to me when the “sexual orientation and its associated difficulties” cards were handed out. Recently, however, I once again found myself in the “it’s not my job to teach” conversation regarding minority voices in fiction, and I figured I should probably codify my thoughts here.
Let me just start by stating this: I should not have to teach! The world should be structured in such a way that everyone is respectful of all our differences, and no minority ever has to correct a misconception held by a member of the majority. It should be the responsibility of every member of society to be aware of the issues facing other members of society, and to take their concerns as seriously as they take their own concerns.
That out of our system? Good. Because one thing I’m keenly and painfully aware of as a gay man is this: We don’t live in the land of “should.”
Some “shoulds” are, simply, unobtainable. (Nobody should ever die, and the world should just grow bigger to accommodate all the new babies.) Some “shoulds” are basic enough that I don’t think a society is out of line for having the expectation, and to be angry when it is defied. (Nobody should chew on their own feces and then spit it out on passers-by.) Some “shoulds” defy social entropy and require constant vigilance and hard work to maintain them. (Everyone should live in a society free of the threat of violence.) I have strong opinions about which of these three categories my particular “should” belongs to, but, ultimately, that’s not relevant to my argument.
Because the fact is, somebody has to teach.
There are lots and lots of people out there who are just plain clueless. They’ve never been taught a damn thing about what goes on outside their little world. Many of them think they have been, but the information they’ve received has come from inside their own little world, and is necessarily suspect.
Honestly, I can’t really blame these people. We’re all born in ignorance, and we can only learn facts that we’re exposed to. Let’s be honest. I’m a privileged American. I’m sure there are many, many things in this world that I’ve never given a thought to, because I’ve been so isolated from the harsh realities that I simply haven’t conceived of them. I have two choices: I can constantly kick myself for what I don’t know, or I can be open to receiving new information as it comes to me. If I choose the latter approach, I’m expecting someone else to teach me.
So whose job is that?
Well, we can say that it’s my job as a privileged American to go out and teach myself about all the things in this world I should know about. And if I approach a member of a group I know very little about and sincerely say, “I’d like to learn more about you,” they’re perfectly justified in saying, “It’s not my job to teach.” And they’re right. It’s not fair of us to expect them to continually spend their lives helping privileged twats like me understand them. It’s exhausting for them.
But then where will I turn for information?
Remember the clueless folks above who think they’ve learned but got all their information from their peers? That’s what we create when we exercise our right not to teach.
Ultimately, as a gay man, I have to ask myself this: Who do I want controlling the message about me? Me, or someone with no first-hand experience about what it’s like to be me? The latter is what got us into this mess of being an oppressed group, despite not being a threat to anyone.
So, even though I shouldn’t have to teach, yes, I will. I will write my fiction to be accessible to straight audiences, and hopefully provide a window into the mind and the world of a gay man. I will answer openly and honestly any sincere request to learn more about what it means to be gay in America today, no matter how exhausted I am at answering the same question over and over. I will live openly and not pretend to be what I am not, so that no one can deny my existence or claim that I made no attempt to speak up.
And if you respond to this by holding fast to your bigoted views and persisting in insisting that it’s not your fault because I failed to teach you, I will be that much more annoyed.
Because, dammit, I didn’t ask for this.