Are you shouting *at thin air?*
I said I'd gay rant, and this weekend has been surprisingly businesslike, with very little to blog about, so I feel now's as good a time as any. This may not be a particularly good rant, however, because I'm kind of tired. But I gay rant pretty much INCESSANTLY, so I'm sure there'll be more later. Here goes.
Ever since I realized I'm a lesbian, my life makes so much more sense. The funny thing is, I distrust that. I have a nagging fear that life does not make sense, and therefore anything is as logical as my sexuality must be false in some way or another. Also, I fear the lack of perspective, inherent to being young. Where I'm standing now, though, things make very good sense.
I've always been the genderfuck kid, ever since I was old enough to really choose my own clothes. Between third and eighth grade, I didn't wear a single skirt, and I refused to wear anything I deemed to "girly" preferring cargo pants and baggy tees. After I cut my hair at end of 5th grade, I used to get redirected to the men's room and old grannies would glare at me in the ladies' room. The funny thing is, I was completely oblivious of sexuality. All I knew was that I was the biggest tomboy in my grade. In 5th grade, all the guys in my class called our teacher gay. They all said it like it was this terrible thing, and I wondered what could possibly be so wrong about being happy and joyous. I didn't even know that there were alternatives to the traditional "man + wife" schtick. It wasn't until about two years later that I found out what those boys had really meant, although I still didn't understand why they were so upset about it. I was weirdly fascinated by the concept of gay. Something about it hypnotized me, and I became very interested. That year, I had my first girl crush and sweet little mini romance, which ended amicably, if awkwardly. The timing, to me, seemed overly convenient, the sudden interest in all things gay, and then the gay crush. The over-convenience made me wary, leery of things that made deceptively good sense. The beginning of eighth grade saw circumstance and (inadvertently, I believe) my parents shutting me firmly in the closet to incubate awhile, until emerging this year as one of the loudest and most fabulous things out there.
In my somewhat short hindsight, things make a lot more sense when I accept myself as a lesbian. Then, everything follows a logical pattern, but still something whispers, be afraid of that which seems simple. It's incredibly annoying. However, I'm currently identifying as a lesbian, regardless of what changes may occur in the future, and it's actually one of the greatest realizations of my life, because everything is a whole lot clearer now.
Having now happily immersed myself in gay subculture, to find myself absolutely at home, I've got many more opinions and a lot more information at my disposal. Things like the way the boys in 5th grade treated our teacher and the constant gay-bashing that goes on every day makes me really really angry. I've been elected next year's GSA president and I'm really looking forward to being able to finally try and form a community in my own school and maybe actually make a difference. I'm angry but I'm hopeful, and I've got problems to solve.
First, there's the community problem in our school. We're going to work really hard next year to develop a more social side to our GSA, so that people will be able to come and just chill and feel comfortable somewhere, like the Queer Center I visited at my sister's college. At our school, there is no gay community, really. There are a few out people, but basically everyone is still closeted and a lot of them are a bit angry and afraid. This year, I was the only out gay person in our GSA and I didn't really become OUT OUT OUT until near the end of the year, mostly because I didn't want to make a big deal of it. So, we need to fix the gay-less GSA problem. Hopefully, the work we've done this year and some of the new friends I've made will help us get a bigger following, maybe even the start of a community, because if there's anything young LGBTQs need, it's people they feel safe around, to whom they can connect and with whom they can share.
Then, there's the more abstract and widespread problem of education. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't know many schools that include sexuality and gender identity in their health curricula, aside from that one sentence: "during puberty, some teens may experience feelings of attraction towards people of their own gender, but this is just a phase and will pass with time." To me, this is utter bullshit. One of the only ways to combat homophobia is through education. Straight teens should understand that there is nothing wrong with being queer or questioning and queer and questioning teens should understand that there's nothing wrong with the feelings and thoughts they're having and should be armed with as much information as possible. Society's anti-queer bias makes LGBTQ teens incredibly vulnerable, to virtually everything health class warns us of. And yet, for some reason, health class completely ignore the existence of the queer population and its needs. As you can tell, this is something I feel quite strongly about. I mean, LGBTQ students shouldn't have to go looking to find information that may not be entirely reliable and they shouldn't be so desperate to have someone to confide as to possibly become close to someone who may not have their best interests at heart. This year, when we talked about date rape and sexual abuse, it was from an entirely heterosexual point of view, with no mention of the fact that a man boy could be abusing another boy, or a girl another girl. And that puts everyone at risk, both LGBTQ students who aren't being given information vital to their own well-being, and the straight students who are being mislead. In addition, when we talk about the importance of protection during sexual acts, at no point are queer issues mentioned. But we need to know these things! Just because I went to the library and checked out the entire queer section scavenging for information, and therefore understand that protection is necessary for lesbians as well as everyone else and know how to provide myself with that protection if I need it, doesn't mean that every other queer teen can or will do the same. Just because queers don't get pregnant when they have sex doesn't mean there aren't risks. My teacher recently told us that "sex is for babies, which completely excludes a decent fraction of the population, whose sex CANNOT produce children and is not meant to do so! SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE DONE HERE!!!!!!
As you see, I'm especially fervent about education. I believe that it would make a huge difference, but I'm sadly aware that people like this and this will do everything they can do prevent America's youth from being taught about these very real and prevalent problems. This needs to be addressed. And it also brings up the question of an absolute democracy. I am thankful that I don't live in one, because an absolute democracy allows the many to make rules for the few. Our system may not be perfect, but at least Obama can still make June LGBT month and work towards abolishing Don't Ask, Don't Tell, while our legislative bodies struggle to pass anti-discrimination policies. I'm angry, but I'm hopeful. And I want to make a difference.
Ever since I realized I'm a lesbian, my life makes so much more sense. The funny thing is, I distrust that. I have a nagging fear that life does not make sense, and therefore anything is as logical as my sexuality must be false in some way or another. Also, I fear the lack of perspective, inherent to being young. Where I'm standing now, though, things make very good sense.
I've always been the genderfuck kid, ever since I was old enough to really choose my own clothes. Between third and eighth grade, I didn't wear a single skirt, and I refused to wear anything I deemed to "girly" preferring cargo pants and baggy tees. After I cut my hair at end of 5th grade, I used to get redirected to the men's room and old grannies would glare at me in the ladies' room. The funny thing is, I was completely oblivious of sexuality. All I knew was that I was the biggest tomboy in my grade. In 5th grade, all the guys in my class called our teacher gay. They all said it like it was this terrible thing, and I wondered what could possibly be so wrong about being happy and joyous. I didn't even know that there were alternatives to the traditional "man + wife" schtick. It wasn't until about two years later that I found out what those boys had really meant, although I still didn't understand why they were so upset about it. I was weirdly fascinated by the concept of gay. Something about it hypnotized me, and I became very interested. That year, I had my first girl crush and sweet little mini romance, which ended amicably, if awkwardly. The timing, to me, seemed overly convenient, the sudden interest in all things gay, and then the gay crush. The over-convenience made me wary, leery of things that made deceptively good sense. The beginning of eighth grade saw circumstance and (inadvertently, I believe) my parents shutting me firmly in the closet to incubate awhile, until emerging this year as one of the loudest and most fabulous things out there.
In my somewhat short hindsight, things make a lot more sense when I accept myself as a lesbian. Then, everything follows a logical pattern, but still something whispers, be afraid of that which seems simple. It's incredibly annoying. However, I'm currently identifying as a lesbian, regardless of what changes may occur in the future, and it's actually one of the greatest realizations of my life, because everything is a whole lot clearer now.
Having now happily immersed myself in gay subculture, to find myself absolutely at home, I've got many more opinions and a lot more information at my disposal. Things like the way the boys in 5th grade treated our teacher and the constant gay-bashing that goes on every day makes me really really angry. I've been elected next year's GSA president and I'm really looking forward to being able to finally try and form a community in my own school and maybe actually make a difference. I'm angry but I'm hopeful, and I've got problems to solve.
First, there's the community problem in our school. We're going to work really hard next year to develop a more social side to our GSA, so that people will be able to come and just chill and feel comfortable somewhere, like the Queer Center I visited at my sister's college. At our school, there is no gay community, really. There are a few out people, but basically everyone is still closeted and a lot of them are a bit angry and afraid. This year, I was the only out gay person in our GSA and I didn't really become OUT OUT OUT until near the end of the year, mostly because I didn't want to make a big deal of it. So, we need to fix the gay-less GSA problem. Hopefully, the work we've done this year and some of the new friends I've made will help us get a bigger following, maybe even the start of a community, because if there's anything young LGBTQs need, it's people they feel safe around, to whom they can connect and with whom they can share.
Then, there's the more abstract and widespread problem of education. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't know many schools that include sexuality and gender identity in their health curricula, aside from that one sentence: "during puberty, some teens may experience feelings of attraction towards people of their own gender, but this is just a phase and will pass with time." To me, this is utter bullshit. One of the only ways to combat homophobia is through education. Straight teens should understand that there is nothing wrong with being queer or questioning and queer and questioning teens should understand that there's nothing wrong with the feelings and thoughts they're having and should be armed with as much information as possible. Society's anti-queer bias makes LGBTQ teens incredibly vulnerable, to virtually everything health class warns us of. And yet, for some reason, health class completely ignore the existence of the queer population and its needs. As you can tell, this is something I feel quite strongly about. I mean, LGBTQ students shouldn't have to go looking to find information that may not be entirely reliable and they shouldn't be so desperate to have someone to confide as to possibly become close to someone who may not have their best interests at heart. This year, when we talked about date rape and sexual abuse, it was from an entirely heterosexual point of view, with no mention of the fact that a man boy could be abusing another boy, or a girl another girl. And that puts everyone at risk, both LGBTQ students who aren't being given information vital to their own well-being, and the straight students who are being mislead. In addition, when we talk about the importance of protection during sexual acts, at no point are queer issues mentioned. But we need to know these things! Just because I went to the library and checked out the entire queer section scavenging for information, and therefore understand that protection is necessary for lesbians as well as everyone else and know how to provide myself with that protection if I need it, doesn't mean that every other queer teen can or will do the same. Just because queers don't get pregnant when they have sex doesn't mean there aren't risks. My teacher recently told us that "sex is for babies, which completely excludes a decent fraction of the population, whose sex CANNOT produce children and is not meant to do so! SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE DONE HERE!!!!!!
As you see, I'm especially fervent about education. I believe that it would make a huge difference, but I'm sadly aware that people like this and this will do everything they can do prevent America's youth from being taught about these very real and prevalent problems. This needs to be addressed. And it also brings up the question of an absolute democracy. I am thankful that I don't live in one, because an absolute democracy allows the many to make rules for the few. Our system may not be perfect, but at least Obama can still make June LGBT month and work towards abolishing Don't Ask, Don't Tell, while our legislative bodies struggle to pass anti-discrimination policies. I'm angry, but I'm hopeful. And I want to make a difference.