At least I didn't pyrokinetically set anyone on fire with crazy, misplaced anger.
I almost cried in class today. Oops.
We were discussing lesbians and gay men, as they were, and are, portrayed in the media. We had just watched a movie about an American Indian girl who was forced to attend (read, kidnapped and practically imprisoned) a federal boarding school for Native American children. In one of the scenes, one of the matrons of the school sexually abuses one of the girl's friends.
My teacher, myself, and several other students took issue with this part of an otherwise amazing film.
Things to note: I am not saying sexual abuse did not happen at these schools, or at other boarding schools. They did, entirely too much, and it's well documented. I am not saying women cannot be sexual predators. I am not saying lesbians and gay men cannot be sexual predators. Some of them are. And I am not defending the character's actions, which were abominable.
So here's my issues:
1. Cases of sexual abuse of children among members of the same sex (women abusing girls, men abusing boys) are highly outnumbered by "heterosexual" pederasty, with variances in different ethnicities, incomes, geographical locations, etc. But as a general trend, it's true.
2. Why did the abuser have to be a woman? What was the intention behind that? It could have just as easily been one of the men on staff. What purpose did the abuser's gender serve the story, when it's damaging like that?
3. GLBTQ people have been historically portrayed as predators, both of children and of "normal" people of consenting age. Even today, people don't necessarily make the distinction between a member of NAMBLA and any of the millions of queers in America.
And this is where the other students in my seminar started to argue. God love em, but these wonderful, liberal Evergreeners couldn't see anyone being unable to make the distinction between a pedophile and an everyday queer.
So I spoke up. More power to those that can tell the difference, but there's a lot of people who can't. Or won't. My first boyfriend's father for instance. When I was fifteen, I told him I was bisexual. And this previously kind, caring man, with whom I'd spent hours talking on the many mornings my boyfriend slept till noon, started screaming at me and saying that I would just as soon (and I quote) stick my tongue down my boyfriend's six year old sister as kiss my (year older) boyfriend.
I was fifteen. I trusted him. We were friends. He was the first adult I ever plainly outed myself to. And he accused me of being a pedophile.
It was also Thanksgiving. I was about 50 miles from my mother's house. I packed up my shit, sobbing uncontrollably, and my boyfriend and I walked over to his uncle's house.
My boyfriend apologized. But he also excused his father's behavior, saying it was the pain medication he was on. He also denied ever telling me that he suspected he was bisexual as well. The father never apologized, and didn't talk much to me after that.
I blurted all, or at least most, of that out to my class. First time I've ever admitted to a group of people that I am queer. And then I almost started crying.
Because it still hurts to talk about that.
Because he never apologized.
Because I trusted him and he betrayed that trust.
Because I was scared somebody was silently agreeing with him
Because I still don't like answering the question of my sexual orientation to people.
Because I'm not comfortable being a bisexual, butch, not-quite-girl genderqueer on this campus.
Because I haven't talked about that in years. And never to near-strangers.
Because there were maybe two other people in that class that could possibly understand just how awful that felt.
We were discussing lesbians and gay men, as they were, and are, portrayed in the media. We had just watched a movie about an American Indian girl who was forced to attend (read, kidnapped and practically imprisoned) a federal boarding school for Native American children. In one of the scenes, one of the matrons of the school sexually abuses one of the girl's friends.
My teacher, myself, and several other students took issue with this part of an otherwise amazing film.
Things to note: I am not saying sexual abuse did not happen at these schools, or at other boarding schools. They did, entirely too much, and it's well documented. I am not saying women cannot be sexual predators. I am not saying lesbians and gay men cannot be sexual predators. Some of them are. And I am not defending the character's actions, which were abominable.
So here's my issues:
1. Cases of sexual abuse of children among members of the same sex (women abusing girls, men abusing boys) are highly outnumbered by "heterosexual" pederasty, with variances in different ethnicities, incomes, geographical locations, etc. But as a general trend, it's true.
2. Why did the abuser have to be a woman? What was the intention behind that? It could have just as easily been one of the men on staff. What purpose did the abuser's gender serve the story, when it's damaging like that?
3. GLBTQ people have been historically portrayed as predators, both of children and of "normal" people of consenting age. Even today, people don't necessarily make the distinction between a member of NAMBLA and any of the millions of queers in America.
And this is where the other students in my seminar started to argue. God love em, but these wonderful, liberal Evergreeners couldn't see anyone being unable to make the distinction between a pedophile and an everyday queer.
So I spoke up. More power to those that can tell the difference, but there's a lot of people who can't. Or won't. My first boyfriend's father for instance. When I was fifteen, I told him I was bisexual. And this previously kind, caring man, with whom I'd spent hours talking on the many mornings my boyfriend slept till noon, started screaming at me and saying that I would just as soon (and I quote) stick my tongue down my boyfriend's six year old sister as kiss my (year older) boyfriend.
I was fifteen. I trusted him. We were friends. He was the first adult I ever plainly outed myself to. And he accused me of being a pedophile.
It was also Thanksgiving. I was about 50 miles from my mother's house. I packed up my shit, sobbing uncontrollably, and my boyfriend and I walked over to his uncle's house.
My boyfriend apologized. But he also excused his father's behavior, saying it was the pain medication he was on. He also denied ever telling me that he suspected he was bisexual as well. The father never apologized, and didn't talk much to me after that.
I blurted all, or at least most, of that out to my class. First time I've ever admitted to a group of people that I am queer. And then I almost started crying.
Because it still hurts to talk about that.
Because he never apologized.
Because I trusted him and he betrayed that trust.
Because I was scared somebody was silently agreeing with him
Because I still don't like answering the question of my sexual orientation to people.
Because I'm not comfortable being a bisexual, butch, not-quite-girl genderqueer on this campus.
Because I haven't talked about that in years. And never to near-strangers.
Because there were maybe two other people in that class that could possibly understand just how awful that felt.