Mini paper for Ethics, Please Read and Respond.
What values were you taught at home (or school, or church)? Do you have any doubts about the genuineness of any of these values? (my professor also said that we could write about how values differ in our culture or if we don't share the same values as our peers.)
The main value I was taught at home, school, and church, was the basic and all-encompassing acceptance and compassion for every person. I see now the holes of this lesson - how, in theory it makes sense but from my life experiences, I see those preaching it to also be those who act against it. People are not valued equally in my society. A white, clean-shaven male wearing a suit is valued greater than an African American woman in a mini skirt. Race, class, and sex all intercede for how we value human life. In this essay I will focus on sex.
A few days ago I was studying in the lounge on my floor when I witnessed a conversation between two of my fellow floor mates and friends. They were discussing a lesbian wedding - who wore the dress, who wore the tux, which state it was held in, and what it would be like if they were a guest. One of them exclaimed that it would be very awkward to attend one, especially to witness the traditional kiss at the end of the ceremony.
Listening to this talk, I felt like I was back in high school, walking down the halls of judgmental teenagers, hearing the terms “dyke,” and “lesbian,” in my wake. I saw how heterosexual couples could make out openly but the homosexual couples would be ostracized if they did as much as hold hands in public. This is because it makes people feel uncomfortable or “awkward.” But it shouldn't. If we all viewed each other as people first and then personality traits or some other characteristic second, as opposed to gender or sex, this “awkward” feeling would be avoided.
Not wanting to cause any strife on my floor with these girls, I decided to ask them questions instead of lecturing them futilely. “Why would it be awkward to be at this wedding?” One of them replied that she personally didn't have have a problem with it, but because homosexuality is against her religion, she would feel as if she is condoning a sin. “What religion are you?” was my next question. She told me she is Lutheran. The second girl said she felt the same way, and that she is Catholic. The Lutheran one shocked me. At a Lutheran church in my hometown there is a very socially liberal emphasis, with a GLBT library and support group.
I was raised Catholic, and I live with a Catholic mother and grandmother. Though their church doctrine does not condone homosexual practices, they disagree with their church doctrine. Both of them would support and love any of their children, or anyone else's children, regardless of their sexual orientation. My devout grandmother fumed when the Pope discounted AIDS and implied it was a “gay” disease.
I wanted to tell them this. I wanted to share with them that it is possible to find your own values and then seek a religion which matches your own values, instead of trying to conform your own values to those of an organized religion. I wanted to tell them that the main message from Christianity that most perceive is “Love thy neighbor,” and that Jesus wouldn't care who loved who, as long as there was some more love in the world. I wanted to tell them that when I was in Sunday School I was taught to accept everyone equally, so why should it be different now?
I didn't tell them this. I have found that when I am vocal about the rights and prejudices of minorities in their sexual orientation, I am condemned to being thought of as something just as bad - something sticky and smelly and best to be crumpled up and thrown into a drawer that closes immediately. My words don't matter if I am discounted as “one of them,” making my opinions seem invalid and biased. In high school I would refer to myself as an “ally,” the term widely used for heterosexual people sympathetic to the homosexual and trans cause. Though this was how I referred to myself, it was not how everyone saw me. The president of the Straight and Gay Alliance is commonly thought of as the latter in the title, especially if he or she does not fully fit in to his or her gender expectations. As an assertive, and sometimes aggressive female, choosing to mainly wear clothes that made me feel comfortable rather than sexually appealing, I definitely did not fall into place with my gender expectations in high school, and therefore was the common target for the negative terms like “dyke” or “lesbian.” (Why they are negative is beyond me.) But I didn't want these girls to think differently of me; I didn't want them to consider me a predator or something dirty, especially since I live with them.
I cringe at my selfish behavior, reflecting on this now. Part of me feels like I should have defended the gay community, or at least shared my ideas about how to choose religions based on values. But at the same time, I know that I have to choose when and how I can most effectively share what I believe, if it's something I find important enough to condone the imparting of my opinions. I don't want to make people think the way I think, or share my values and opinions simply because they are mine. I want them to come to their own conclusions themselves, I just hope that they align with mine - with a universal acceptance for everyone. There are times where I feel obligated to be persuasive, however.
My father was one of the primary teachers in my younger life that taught me to love everything and respect everything. He told me to act with compassion, not for personal gain; to root for the underdog because they need our support too; and to, of course, “love thy neighbor.” My father, however, is also slightly homophobic and extremely patriarchal. During my sophomore year in high school, when I suggested that I was thinking more about my sexual orientation, his initial attitude was accepting and rather neutral. It wasn't until the following months or even years that I noticed his homophobia. His lectures to my brother about what a man “should” be, his lesbian jokes he would share with my stepmom, the way they'd look at me differently when they laughed at my objections. My father has huge generalizations about sexes that I am glad I didn't realize when I was younger and more impressionable. He has told me, in all seriousness, that he does not believe that men and women can ever be “just friends” and that the man is always looking for sex and the woman for love. The exception, of course, is if the woman is fat or ugly. Few men would want to be her “friend” then.
One of my very close male friends, Christian, and I attended an open house for one of our family friends. We saw my dad and his wife there, and made the usual small talk. A few weeks later as I'm driving with my dad to his house to spend the night, he asks nonchalantly, “So, how are things going with Christian?” Bearing in mind my father's generalizations on male/female relationships, I warily replied, “We're doing well.” The rest of the conversation went as follows:
“That's good, Anne. I'm happy for you. What grade is he in school?”
“He's unschooled. He doesn't really have a grade, because he creates his own curriculum, but he's sixteen.... He's letting me tutor him in literature; I'm pretty excited,” I offered him a smile and a change of subject.
My dad snorted at this, “What? Is that like teaching with benefits?”
“Excuse me?” I felt very taken aback at this presumption, and still do.
“Oh, you know. Like 'friends with benefits,'” he grins at his own ingenuity.
“Dad, Christian and I are friends.”
“Sure,” he still was not swayed.
“This is similar to how I am friends with John or Elise or Madeline or Chris. We're friends,” I felt like I was sounding patronizing, but I really didn't know how else to treat the situation. Noticing his remaining disbelief, I added truthfully, “Christian's homosexual. Does that help?” To this my father swallows the air and squeaks out an, “Oh...oh,” as he's seriously dumbfounded.
To try to bring him back, and to get back at him, I add, “We have a very beautiful friendship.”
My father could not handle this. He said snidely and sarcastically, “Oh of course you do,” and then, in a heavier and conspiratorial tone, “Who is his partner?”
This should not have shocked me. My father believes that for a man to be gay that he regularly sodomizes, even though for a man to be straight, he can just get by with an attraction to the opposite sex. When I told him years before that I thought I was bisexual, he asked me who my girlfriend was. Still, I struggled for words. “Uhm... he's sixteen. He... he doesn't currently have a partner?” I stumbled over the unfamiliar lingo. Switching back to something more comfortable, I clarified, “He's single at the moment, I believe.”
Unable to criticize my friend's sexual attractions or practices, without sounding prejudicial and nonsupporting, he grumbled under his breath about how barbaric Christian's “unschooling” is and how negligent his mother and father are for not giving him a “real” education. I abstained from correcting him in that Christian lives with his two moms.
I found these discussions hurtful, because I find the attitude presented in it hurtful and hypocritical. Our society preaches acceptance for everyone, as if that is our main, core value. At the same time, we categorize people into different levels of importance, which undermines our main value. I try not to objectify people; I try consciously to withhold prejudices; I am actively working on treating everyone as People, regardless of their age, sex, class, or physical distinction. In a society which does not actually value this, I feel like I am swimming against a cultural current.