The Gay Male Journal has a really good series of articles (two, so I guess technically a series, maybe it’s more of a two-part post?) about gay male safe spaces, what they are, why they’re needed, and why we shouldn’t apologize for them.
The beginning of the article even says to read it through the lense of a person of a color, and why it’s so important for us to move past the stereotype of gay men being white and rich.
There is also a large discussion in both parts about some legal issues, I don’t pretend to have any real insight or knowledge on them (I try to armchair lawyer with the best of them, but this is beyond my scope).
[These venues] are called safe spaces, because we have always and still need places where we feel safe as gay males.
Gay male safe spaces are not a want, but rather a need to protect us from the daily acts of verbal, physical and emotional violence we experience just for being who we are.
Setting up a safe space is an act of self-defense against discrimination, not discrimination itself.
We will admit that our safe spaces are still not safe for everyone within our gay male community. As gay males of colour, we have first hand experience with these issues, but these are our internal struggles and not up for debate from an outsider that cannot even respect the fact that these spaces are needed to begin with.
Gay males have no need to explain to anyone why we need safe spaces. if every minority group had to ask for permission from the majority to create these venues, the answer would always be a resounding no.
Give them a read, they’re great, and in their writing, make the case for the need for other minority-only spaces. We’re all in this together, and there’s always a need to have our own spaces.
I almost titled this ‘nerd culture’ instead of pop, but I’m writing about Star Wars and Marvel movies, they’ve long ago crossed over from being in the domain of just the fringe to powerhouse pop culture institutions. And that’s the issue.
By the time of Avengers: Endgame, there had been 23 major motion pictures (I may be off by one or two), eight TV series between ABC and Netflix (plus the ones on CW, but they weren’t really connected, but neither were the ABC/Netflix ones, but that’s a different issue even before you throw Disney+ into the mix….I’m getting off track) and billions of dollars in revenue made.
I still have not seen all of those movies, and I’m probably forgetting lots of small details, but I can count off the top of my head, less than five queer characters. If I’m remembering correctly, the first gay male character we got was on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D (ABC), and was in two episodes before being written off.
Queer people’s loves, lives, and partnerships aren’t accidental and don’t only exist when other queer people know them, though in the entire galaxy of the cinematic Star Wars universe we’re yet to see any true queer representation.
The brief and tacked-on moment was a slight that felt pointed after the choice to not pursue the natural chemistry between Poe and Finn, and it also reminded this writer of the Russos’ terrible attempt at “representation” in Avengers: Endgame. So why is there this sudden push to get brownie points for doing the bare minimum? Why don’t these directors just not promise anything and be honest about the fact they’re willing to ignore marginalized audiences?
We’ve seen time and time again the representation matters. It really, really matters.
When young people can see themselves in the franchise they love (and in politics and in sports, the list goes on and on), we have a sense of belonging. A sense that there is a place for us in a world that often feels like it rejects us.
We’re not just some box to be checked, but actual human beings. Including us should not be something that is huge news, especially in 2019 (when these movies came out), but it is because there is such a terrible track record at this point.
I enjoy the Marvel films, and I’ve always loved Star Wars, but it’s hard to see myself in these universes that very clearly have no room for me.
I will start this (brief, I promise) post off with two caveats:
Caveat the first: Whoever the Democratic nominee is, they will disappoint each and every one of us in some way. Get over that now. The alternative is (among so many other things) children in cages. Vote with your heart in the primary, but vote with your head in the general. Get over your bullshit purity tests and let’s do the work to make fix some of these monsterous crimes.
Caveat the second: I have a lot of candidates I like. Before Mayor Pete, I was pulling for Castro. And Harris. And Warren. And Booker. I do also love, love, love the fact that so many of the candidates have issues they are specialists about, release their plan and then the rest of the field basically follows suit. This is a good way to operate.
Caveat the third (okay, I lied, I thought I only had two): I’m an independent. Unless Pennsylvania changes their rules (which there is a potential for that to happen), I can’t vote in the primaries, so I don’t have as much of a horse in this race (and yes, I’m a full hearted progressive, but since no one can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory quite like the Democratic party, I remain Independent).
Okay, on to it: I really like Mayor Pete. Yes, he’s gay, and seeing myself in a candidate in that way is something I didn’t think I’d ever see. I also love that he’s my age (two years older). Our generation faces a lot of unique challenges, and we need lots of younger people to step up, take the reigns and not let the older generations dictate so much of the world.
But I also love that he’s outspoken about his faith: one that I have always known to be liberal. He’s fighting the right on their own turf and laying it out in stark terms.
He’s actively proclaiming that his faith moves him to care for his neighbors, to create a social safety net and to fight those who hoard their wealth. This is a message that needs shouted from the rooftops.
When the right claims to have a monopoly on the Christian faith, we need to push and fight back against that. It’s disingenuous at best.
So while he may not end up with nomination (odds are he won’t, just based on sheer numbers), I hope that this something he continues to pound and something that the progressives take from him. Christianity at it’s heart is liberal and progressive. In the words of Presiding Bishop Michael Curry, it’s about radical love. Let’s embrace that, and fully reclaim it.
The current administration has (somewhat quietly, especially when you consider everything else that is going on) put together what they are calling a “Natural Law” Commission.
They are unhappy with how the government in the past has protected human rights, and have instead installed a committee that is completely against a woman’s right to choose her medical care or any type of equality for the queer community.
I came across two articles from GQ about gay stereotypes, and while they were both written with a tongue firmly in a cheek, they both admit there’s some truth to them (even if they can’t prove anything scientifically).
If gay men feel self-conscious or fear attack, they could walk quickly to get away from perceived risks in order to feel safe again,” she explains. “They might also fear being judged or stared at, so want to move away from the ‘perceived risk’ as quickly as possible.”
Though Phillips also says that feeling confident can increase walking speed. “It is all about the feeling of safety and security in the body. If you feel safe somewhere, then you may feel like ‘strutting’, being more open and feeling more extroverted,” she explains.
MacRae tells me that walking fast might be a method for gay men to give a “visual cue” of their physical fitness and attractiveness, and that there’s a gendered element to how we perceive sexuality that may influence walking speed. “People generally perceive sexuality from women’s bodies when they’re standing still and men’s when they’re in motion,” he says. … So gay men upping the pace of their walking also amplifies their sexuality. Strutting, or walking at a rapid pace, can be a way of displaying homosexuality in safe spaces.”
“Like, gays will do ridiculous things and there’s something so counterculture about drinking an iced coffee during the winter.” It’s also, he says, a sign of resisting homogenization. “Hot coffee is so normcore. Like, it’s for dads and old people commuting on the train.”
For Sam, iced versus hot coffee is the perfect symbolism between queer and straight culture. Essentially, iced coffee has become a queer avatar, and a way for gay people to signpost themselves against the uniformity of heterosexuality.
But there’s still an element of covert behavior that occurs in the queer community, be it sexual or, in the case of social media, through the development of digital languages like memes and modern slang. From things like the rise of the word “wig” and Wendy Williams GIFs, there’s an aspect of digital communication that feels exclusive to queer people, although these then tend to filter down into more mainstream culture. Iced coffee could just be an IRL manifestation of this playful covert language, signaling to any fellow gays in Starbucks that you’re one of them. As Dr. Bengry posits: “It has to be a shared experience.”
But really, the reason iced coffee is gay is actually quite simple. A number of people on Twitter got in touch with me to suggest that part of the gay appeal is quite literally the straw you drink it through. One user suggested that the straw meant that you could “maintain eye contact on your phone, some cute boys, [and] homophobes wanting to attack u [sic],”
The two articles are fun and playful, don’t think too much about them. But I do have to say, both are very true about me. And I’m okay with that. I can enjoy the signposting of both and look at them with a wry smile, understanding a bit more about myself if I truly want to dig a bit deeper.
Today marks the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, which launched the modern LGBT-rights movement.
If you’re not familiar with the riots, here’s what happened:
We owe everything to those brave trans-women of color, homeless youth and drag queens who launched the riots and the queer revolution.
People ask why we celebrate pride. NoFo writes it much more eloquently than I ever could, here is an excerpt:
We’re proud because despite relentless persecution everywhere we turn—when organized religion viciously attacks and censures and vilifies us in the name of selective morality, when our families disown us, when our elected officials bargain away our equality for hate votes, when entire states codify our families into second-class citizenship, when our employers fire us, when our landlords evict us, when our police harass us, when our neighbors and colleagues and fellow citizens openly insult and condemn and mock and berate and even beat and kill us—we continue to survive. … We’re proud because—thanks to the incredible bravery shown by gay people who lived their lives openly in the decades before us—we can live our lives more and more openly at home, at work, with our families, on our blogs … and even on national television. … We’re proud because after all we’ve been through, the world is starting to notice and respect us and emulate the often fabulous culture we’ve assembled from the common struggles and glorious diversity of our disparate lives.
We’re proud because this weekend we’ll celebrate with drag queens, leather queens, muscle queens, attitude queens and you’d-never-know-they-were-queens queens, and together we can see through the “pride” in our parade and enjoy the underlying Pride in our parade.
Quite simply, we’re proud that we have so much to be proud of.
We can take some time, and even in the face of hatred, bigotry and discrimination, we can carve a place in this world, claim it our own and celebrate.
Because even if Pride doesn’t change many minds in the outside world, it’s our PARTY, darlings. It’s our Christmas, our New Year’s, our Carnival. It’s the one day of the year that all the crazy contingents of the gay world actually come face to face on the street and blow each other air kisses. And wish each other “Happy Pride!” Saying “Happy Pride!” is really just a shorter, easier way of saying “Congratulations on not being driven completely batshit insane! Well done, being YOURSELF!”
We can celebrate the community that we have, the radical acceptance that we embody and the fact that we’ve survived. We have a chance to come together, remind ourselves we belong to a larger community, have some fun and take back our city; just for a little bit. We know that hatred will continue, but still we march forward. We have pride because it helps those coming after us. In the words of Harvey Milk, it gives the next generation hope:
And this is a chance to celebrate the fact that I’ve survived. A chance to celebrate the fact that I’m a proud gay man. And even that act, powerful unto itself, has hopefully made a difference.
The most important and powerful action a person can make is to come out to those around them. Then the LGBT community isn’t a scary abstract anymore, it has a face. If you know someone who is openly LGBT, you see their humanity. You can understand that we’re not asking for anything special, just the same rights everyone else is guaranteed by the constitution. A chance to be happy. A chance to live the life we want, surrounded by those we love.
“Many of us want to, and will: when a gay, lesbian or transgendered kid isn’t at special risk of being brutalized or committing suicide. … “When a gay person’s central-casting earnestness and eloquence aren’t noted with excitement and relief, because his or her sexual orientation needn’t be accompanied by a litany of virtues and accomplishments in order for bigotry to be toppled and a negative reaction to be overcome.”
We will stop talking about coming out when it’s not news anymore, when the last barriers have finally been broken down. We’ll stop screaming for our rights when we’re finally treated as equals by our government. We’ll only stop telling our stories when they don’t matter.
The anniversary of Stonewall comes just two days after marriage equality came to all 50 states (and the anniversary of decisions in Lawrence v. Texas and Windsor v. United States), a major piece of the equality dream the our predecessors had 50 years ago. In 11 years, we went from no marriage rights to full equality across the country. We still have a lot to fight for, The Equality Act being at the top of that list, but for now, we can celebrate the ‘thunderbolt’ of equality that we have achieved:
So we keep fighting for progress, wherever we can. We celebrate our advances and keep chipping away at our obstacles: and this month we can celebrate both, as well as the individuals that make up our amazing community.
In light of the Orlando massacre, it’s more important than ever to celebrate Pride. To not be intimidated by the hate, but to instead keep rising, demand equality and fight for our very right to exist. What hurts the most about Orlando may be the reminder that even our own spaces, which we thought were safe, aren’t. Or maybe they never really were, not while hatred and prejudice still exist. But as we face, united, the epidemics of gun violence and homophobia, we can at least take solace in the fact that we, as a community, know how to win epidemics.
This is the first year in history where we (at least in the United States), have less rights than we did last year. The horrific and systematic attacks by this administration, and Republicans across the country, has shown that we cannot take anything for granted. But we are resilient, and we are a community. We’re a chosen family.
We’re proud of how far we’ve come. We’re proud to keep fighting. We’re proud.
In June, SCOTUS ruled on the Masterpiece case, handing down a ‘narrow’ ruling. Basically, they said that how Colorado handled the legal case was in appropriate.
This is still very troubling, and will for sure just open the door and be the first shot across the bow, as it may, The latest tactic against equal rights is the so-called ‘religious liberty’ argument, as we’ve seen with racist house elf Jeff Sessions even putting together a religious liberty commission, specifically to stamp out queer rights. At the end of the day, this ruling, while narrow, still means that two men were denied service because they’re gay. But there are larger implications; the court, incorrectly, said that a lawyer for the men was critical of religion, when instead he was critical of what religion was being used to justify (as well as it’s use to justify slavery, segregation and more):
If saying something true, yet critical about religion as an institution is an example of expressing hostility toward religion, then is every comment critical of religion evidence of bias? Are we never allowed to say anything negative about the harms that can be wrought by fundamentalism? It’s now hard to imagine the forces of equality getting a fair hearing if no one can say anything negative about the forces of bigotry when they use religion to justify their hatred.
We will see more of these, and honestly, I think we are lucky that a larger ruling was prevented due to the technicalities of the legal system. With a conservative court, without Kennedy, it will only be a matter of time when non-discrimination ordinances are a thing of the past. As it stands right now, doctors are allowed to refuse to treat patients (for anything, including emergency services) if it conflicts with their ‘deeply held religious beliefs,’ which is why, on all of my race bibs in the emergency information, I have to specify to not be taken to Mercy, the local Catholic hospital. I have to play the odds, and hope if the worst were to happen and I was already unable to speak for myself, that I could actually get the medical help I need.
Jurors cited his orientation with disgust and said they didn’t want to send him ‘where he wants to go,’ and the Supreme Court refused to step in to take up an appeal. Currently (and I just learned this) jury deliberations are kept secret, except when there might be racial bias involved in sentencing. The same does not apply for sexual orientation or gender expression.
Putting aside the sickening notion of the death penalty, the entire episode is disturbing and vile and quite frankly sickening.
A few states already bar it, but this would ban using ‘gay panic’ as a defense in federal court. Gay panic, for those unaware, is the idea that someone can be found innocent of a crime (usually murder or the like) if they were hit on by a person of the same sex and they ‘acted out of panic.’ So total bullshit.
Do I think this bill has a chance: no. But, it’s good to see at least recognition that these things need fixing.
The bishop did put together a good summary of the actions taken at the General Convention (a summary of just the same-sex matrimony resolutions), which I really do appreciate. Gears of any large organization take a long time to move, the Episcopal Church is no different. It’s disheartening, especially since waiting to be fully accepted by your own church hurts, but it’s what we’re dealt, so we can just try to urge things to move along faster.
However, what threw me for a loop, and what I didn’t catch during my first wiring about the General Convention is this:
3. Established a Task Force on Communion Across Difference [A227].
Background: The language of this resolution was drawn in its entirety from Resolution B012 as originally offered. The commission establishes an on-going channel of communication to explore a way forward together, and to avoid future conflicts.
The 2018 General Convention:
• Set membership at no more than 14 clergy and laity, half who believe marriage is a covenant “between two people” and half who believe marriage to be exclusively “between a man and a woman”
This is, again, as we saw in Pittsburgh, bullshit.
Once again, the process is based on the forced inclusion of those who believe I should not have access to the same sacraments as other people in the church. The bishop writes:
steps were taken to include LGBT people more deeply in the life of the whole Church, and to honor their relationships
I’d love to know how (thankfully not me, as I’m not on any committee), having to sit in a room and defend your right to God’s love to people who want to force you into a loveless life honors and includes us?
The Episcopal church is leaps and bounds ahead of others, and has always been a home for me. My parish is easily one of the most liberal in the country, and I’m proud of that fact, but this kind of process drags us all backwards. This did not work in Pittsburgh, although I expect the larger church, with such a small committee, will have no problems filling up either side of the ‘debate.’
And for me, I’ve always been much more of the ‘doing’ rather than going to church every week, and that won’t change. I go, especially when I need a bit of recharging, but I’ve always been drawn more to the community events and volunteer work I can do through the church.
This week was the General Convention of the Episcopal Church. Every three years, a bicameral legislative body (House of Bishops and House of Deputies, made up of priests and laypeople) get together and make decisions about the church. This year, aside from big news about the diocese of Cuba (we welcomed them fully into the church, yay!), there was also forward movement about same sex matrimony.
Basically, even though we’ve had provisional rites for same-sex matrimony (written by my now retired Rector), Bishops were able to refuse them to be performed in their diocese and they were basically in a ‘trail period.’
Now, the wheel of the church grind slowly, but this week at the General Convention, things at least started to move:
This sets the stage for creation of new liturgical texts to respond to the needs of Episcopalians across the church while continuing to use the Book of Common Prayer that was adopted in 1979.
Resolution A068 originally called for the start of a process that would lead to a fully revised prayer book in 2030. The bishops instead adopted a plan for “liturgical and prayer book revision for the future of God’s mission through the Episcopal branch of the Jesus movement.”
The bishops’ amended resolution calls for bishops to engage worshipping communities in their dioceses in experimentation and creation of alternative liturgical texts that they will submit to a new Task Force on Liturgical and Prayer Book Revision to be appointed by the presiding bishop and the president of the House of Deputies.
It also says that liturgical revision will utilize inclusive and expansive language and imagery for humanity and divinity, and will incorporate understanding, appreciation and care of God’s creation.
One line in the bishop’s proposal prompted questions in the House of Deputies. The resolution “memorializes” the 1979 Book of Common Prayer “as a prayer book of the church preserving the psalter, liturgies, the Lambeth Quadrilateral, Historic Documents, and [its] Trinitarian Formularies.”
Here’s some more of the nitty gritty of what will actually happen:
The resolution now calls for creation of a Task Force on Liturgical Prayer Book Revision to be made up of 10 lay people, 10 clergy and 10 bishops, appointed by the presiding bishop and the president of the House of Deputies. The members ought to reflect “the expertise, gender, age, theology, regional, and ethnic diversity of the church.”
Liturgical revision will utilize inclusive and expansive language and imagery for humanity and divinity; and will incorporate understanding, appreciation and care of God’s creation;
Bishops are to engage worshiping communities in their diocese in experimentation and creation of alternative texts;
Every diocese is to create a liturgical commission to collect these diocesan resources and share with the proposed task force; and
All materials are to be professionally translated into English, Spanish, French and Haitian Creole.
So things are starting to move, and it was a compromise. Bishops themselves can opt out of the same-sex matrimony, but any person will be able to call upon a different bishop for ‘oversight,’ finally opening this sacrament to every single person in the church.
It’s also slow going, but as someone pointed out, when the next version of the Book of Common Prayer comes out (slated for 2030), which is pretty much the defining document of our church (and also responsible for what most people think of when they think of the church for the wording used in marriages and funerals), it may (hopefully will) include the more gender neutral language. It’s a long process, but it’s progress.
Interestingly, there was a separate Resolution that provide an apology for those who were hurt by the wording of a hymn that was included:
offers this apology in recognition of the pain our liturgical language may at times inflict.
The same could, and should be said of sacraments that for decades, excluded the same sex couples in the church. But, progress is progress, and we’re making good, forward progress, even if it’s not as quickly that I’d like. It’s more progress than I actually expected to see, for that, I can be thankful.