Culture

No more hedging. No more hiding. No more closets.

News, Odds 'n' Ends, Social Justice, Writing

I haven’t exactly known what to say about the shooting in Orlando. I’ve mostly been sharing other people’s words because I think they’ve said it better than I could. Heck, even some allies have said it better than I could, and I’m a card-carrying member of the LGBTQIA community. Maybe being a step closer or a step removed means being able to find one’s words more easily; I don’t know.

Even now, I wasn’t planning on posting. After all, anyone who has cared to follow my blog, my writing career, my Twitter, my Facebook page, or interact with me in person on a level greater than “how’s the weather” pretty much knows where I stand. And then I read this post by the marvelous Hans Hirschi. Go read it. It’s long, but it’s completely worth the time it takes. My thoughts can wait until you’re finished.

Are you back? Okay. So, what really struck me was the part about making heteros feel comfortable. I can’t count the number of times I’ve done that. Or I’ve been embarrassed because the heteros got uncomfortable around me. Like I needed to apologize. I’ve been doing that dance since I was 13.

I used to get teased, back in school, for being a “lesbian.” Never mind the fact that I didn’t even identify as bisexual back then! I didn’t really have a concept of anything but gay and straight, and I knew I liked boys…a lot. Okay, I wasn’t totally boy crazy. But I had plenty of crushes! Even had a boyfriend in ninth grade, and I had a years-long crush on my bestie (er…if he’s reading this, as we’re still friends on Facebook, he now knows this about me…sorry!).

Except really, they weren’t totally wrong. Only I minimized it, hid it, denied it…all to make them more comfortable. To make them believe I wasn’t going to perv on them in the locker room (good grief, none of them were that special) or try to grope them or whatever (yeah, real things they suggested I might do). And naturally, my involvement in a religious community stamped out any sense that it might really be okay to like girls (gentle reminder, I had no concept of other genders back then).

My first real crush on another woman was in college. I won’t embarrass the poor woman (also still a friend) by giving clues about who she is. However, I was still very much keeping tight control on all of my feelings. I was still worried I might make someone “wonder” about me…make them uncomfortable. Funny thing is, of all the people I could have crushed on, I picked a person who is now herself out. Too bad neither of us was ready when we were eighteen.

To this day, I tend to minimize everything. After all, does it matter? I’m married to a man. I don’t want anyone to worry that I’m leaving my spouse or that I might be creeping on them or thinking about them in a decidedly more than friendly way. I can pretend that I’m just your average suburban WifeMommy.

Only I can’t. I have my first genuine lesbian romance coming out (heh) in July. Sure, I’ve dabbled. I’ve written three flash fictions (all under 2k words). I have side characters who are bisexual and lesbian women. But something in me stopped short at anything more because it might make people uncomfortable. It might make people see me differently. It might make people hate and fear me.

If I were in the wrong place at the wrong time, it might make someone take violent action against me.

A man shot up a club full of Latinx LGBTQ+ people reportedly because they made him uncomfortable. Perhaps this was because, as his father suggested, he didn’t like seeing them being publicly affectionate. Perhaps this was because, as other media has suggested, he had internalized homophobia. Since we don’t have him here to ask, we can only speculate. The bottom line, though, is that he was uncomfortable with us enough to want to do lethal harm.

Look, I know that personal safety is a must. You’ll never find me trying to convince anyone they should be public in any way about their identity because it can be deadly. Hell, it can be deadly if the only place you’re out is where you theoretically should have been safe.

But I’m tired of playing that game in my everyday life. I’m tired of locking things away, compartmentalizing them, pretending they don’t matter, all to make heteros feel all right about sharing a room with me. Anyone who is deeply bothered by the fact that I love people who are not men can feel free to find other friends to hang out with. And please don’t worry, if you’re the sort of person who feels weird around me, there’s a better than average chance you’re not a person I would develop romantic feelings for, trust me.

Being part of the writing community, in particular LGBTQIA lit and more specifically m/m romance, I’ve seen a lot of things that make me feel uncomfortable as a non-hetero person. There is a disturbing amount of misogyny, biphobia and sapphobia (fancy word for hating women who love women, in case you wondered). This is not coming from gay men reading m/m romance, for the most part—it’s coming from straight women. While it’s not everyone, it is a sizable chunk of the community. Until now, I’ve catered to that attitude. I’ve tried to make hetero people feel comfortable by not speaking up and by sticking to writing about men.

I’m done. I can’t spend my life making hetero people happy. Not among my real-life friends and not in my reading/writing community. If people are going to get twitchy when I write about queer people who don’t happen to be men, then so be it.

As for the rest of the world, the ones who already hate and fear all LGBTQIA people, I don’t know what to say to that. I know I’m at risk because sometimes people “read” me. I got yelled at from a car window the other day, and not the typical catcalling and “smile for me, baby.” No, the person clearly assumed I was queer and yelled a slur at me while I was walking my dog. On my street. In broad daylight. Because I made him “uncomfortable.”

I don’t really know how to end this, except to say that I’m past caring whether heteros are “uncomfortable.” There is no possible way to satisfy all the conditions which would make them “comfortable” anyway. Instead, I’ll be over here, living my life, writing my words. Maybe I’m finally ready to write the bi/lesbian FF novel that’s been hiding in my story morgue for two years and let it out for the world to see.

Go forth, my out and proud LGBTQIA family, and make the haters uncomfortable.

The “policing” of free hate speech

LGBTQ+, News, Politics, Social Justice

Courtesy of http://amleibowitz.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/e0273-6a00d8341c730253ef01a511bcf529970c-pi.jpg

This article popped up in my Facebook feed yesterday because a friend shared it. Before you click the link, be forewarned it may be highly triggering due to the transphobic language. Yes, it’s bad enough to put it in bold, red letters. The summary alone includes quotes which are so offensive that even someone ignorant of trans* issues would recognize them as hateful. I’m not joking. Unless you have an extremely strong constitution, I recommend against listening to the broadcast, which is linked in the article. The extracted quotes are bad enough.

Rochester Radio Hosts Mock Transgender People in Disturbing, Offensive Segment

It speaks for itself. There’s no need for me to say anything about how horrible those comments were. Besides, anyone local to me who has ever heard Kimberly and Beck knows that they are Grade-A Jerks. That is what they do; they’re paid to be awful. I think this one is particularly bad, given the fact that they were responding to trans-friendly local legislation. It’s also frustrating given that I live in a city that, while conservative in some ways, is better than average regarding LGBTQ issues (though there’s always room for growth, of course). But I’m not writing today to call for their heads on a platter, or even their permanent firing.

When I posted this, the responses were interesting. (Side note: Anyone who thinks people under 21 aren’t articulate, intelligent people able to hold their own in a debate does not know my friends.) Naturally, one of the things that got invoked was “free speech.” Dear God, why is that the first thing that’s trotted out in response to assholes spouting off? I mean, I would think that the first response to the article might possibly be, oh, I dunno, “Wow. It sure is crappy that trans* people have to put up with hearing that shit on the radio. Maybe I’ll go check and see if my friend/family member/stranger I interact with on the Internet is okay and didn’t have a massive anxiety attack triggered by that.”

Besides the obvious lack of compassion, the other thing I don’t understand is why anyone would bother trotting out “free speech” in the first place. My commentary on the article when I posted it to Facebook:

This carries a very heavy TW for incredibly offensive transphobic language and commentary. Read at your own risk. Also? SCREW THEM. I already don’t listen to them (they’re God-awful and annoying as it is). But this makes it a billion times worse. And now I’m telling everyone else to not listen to them.

I never once demanded they be fired or disallowed from broadcasting. I said I didn’t like them, and I said I was going to discourage other people from listening to them. They are entirely free to spout all the garbage they like, and the rest of us have the choice to change the station. Which is exactly what I suggested doing!

Aside from the fact that I never threatened their right to free speech in any way, why are they the ones given that card to play? Do I not have just as much right to the same free speech? Just as they are (technically) free to share their disgusting views with anyone fool enough to listen, I’m also free to tell the world they are ass-hats. I posted on my own Facebook page that I don’t like them. I’m posting it on my own blog. Why? Because they spewed trash and I didn’t like it, and I’m allowed to say so. It’s not a zero-sum game. My freedom to discourage people from tuning in does not curtail their right to broadcast their nonsense.

Even if I were demanding they be fired or sending out a petition for such action, guess what? Still my free speech. Yep. Just because I say it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen, and I’m absolutely allowed to say I think they should be dumped. And let’s not get into the fact that “free speech” is not the same as “consequence-free speech.” If you violate the terms of your employment with your words, then you still get the ax, regardless of whether you had the “right” to say it in a Constitutional sense. (Also, please go educate yourselves on what is, in fact, meant by Constitutional freedom of speech.)

Whenever the “free speech!” argument comes out, I’d like to remind you all that it isn’t just bigoted radio DJs or Westboro Baptist protestors or Michele Bachmann who have the right to say whatever they want. Those of us who don’t like what they are offering also have the right to say so, loudly and often. We have the right to call them on their hate and encourage other people to stop listening to their shows, attending their churches, or voting for them.

Next time someone points to “free speech” as some kind of argument (for what, I’m not exactly sure), point out to them that you, too, have the same right.

Bridge to Nowhere

LGBTQ+, Religion

Last night, I was on Twitter discussing the Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission Summit. Unsurprisingly, there is still a lot of ignorance in the Southern Baptist Convention about LGBTQ people and issues. I won’t waste time quoting the worst of it; you can easily search for it if you’re that curious.

What I found interesting was the ensuing discussion about building bridges. Just the term building bridges is often so loaded that it can be hard to have a conversation about it. It’s been used to mean everything from asking LGBTQ Christians to make the first move to progressive Christians who won’t take a firm stand but want dialogue to liberal Christian allies sharing the burden for reconciliation. There’s disagreement on all sides about whether any or all of those things are good.

To be perfectly honest, I’ve never been much of a bridge-builder. I’m pretty fierce when it comes to standing with those I love. When I was new to blogging about these things, I was in a much darker place than I am now. I was immersed in a church culture that seemed intentionally unloving towards LGBTQ people while putting on a good face. There was nothing in me that wanted to bring people together—I wanted them to change their minds!

To an extent, I still feel that way. But now, I also believe it’s my responsibility to use my perceived privilege to reach out to people who might not be sure how to take that next step. I’m still not convinced that “I don’t care if you’re gay, but you shouldn’t be in a relationship” is terribly loving. In fact, I’m sure it’s not. On the other hand, I don’t need to be hostile about it, either. That’s the point at which I will do more good affirming people’s humanity than arguing my point.

With all of that said, there are some people who will never be able to have rational conversations about any kind of sexuality. Their condescension, moral superiority complexes, and outright hate prevent any kind of dialogue. It is impossible to claim, “But I love gay people!” while looking down your nose disapprovingly. The sorts of people who would compare being gay to rape or who would deliver entire sermons outlining the finer points of gay sex for the shock value or whose gag reflexes are tripped by gay people are not the sort whose table I want to sit at.

I’m not the only one. I enjoyed tweeting with Rachel Held Evans and Ben Moberg (as always; they are good people), and we had this exchange (it’s hard to read, so the text appears below):

Rachel Held Evans: And yet, in spite of all the misinformation etc. I sense a desire for grace from #erlcsummit. How do we build bridges? I really don’t know.

Ben Moberg: @rachelheldevans I’m unsure if we want a bridge going there.

Me: @Runaway_Writes @rachelheldevans I really kind of don’t. This is one case where THEY need to be the bridge-builders.

I’m in favor of working things out. I may not agree with some of my more conservative fellow Christians, but there can be thoughtful conversations. These people, though? They need to make the first move. It can’t always be us, LGBTQ people and allies. And it absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, be them reaching out their hands beckoning us to join them. We’ve done that for far too long. If they want peace and reconciliation, it’s going to be on our terms, on our side of the divide. They need to ask for a seat at our table.

These men (let’s be honest; even the women who agree with them have very little authority here) have acknowledged that they’ve lost the culture war. Now they’re going after other Christians who disagree with them, and most of us just aren’t buying it anymore. Ultimately, unless they decide to take those steps, they are going to find themselves alone on their island of hate, shouting to no one. It’s up to them to decide if that’s what they really want. If it isn’t, the rest of us reasonable people will be over here living our lives, ready to welcome them home if they choose to cross the sea.

Flesh and Blood

Body Image, Life, Religion

The first time I remember hating my body, I was nine.

Oh, I don’t think I put it exactly in those terms. It was more the certainty that I didn’t look like other girls. I was short, for one thing, even at that age. I was rounder, too, than my classmates. I’ve seen pictures of myself in fourth grade, and I wasn’t even what adults would have semi-affectionately termed “chubby.” But I wasn’t skinny, and for whatever reason, my peers latched onto that insecurity and spent the next several years calling me fat. Taunting me about my hips and thighs. Pinching me to show where I could “lose a few pounds.”

People say that girls today learn those lessons earlier than in previous generations. No, they don’t.

When I reached high school and chose to reinvent myself through conservative evangelical religiosity, I thought I’d found a place where I wouldn’t be judged on my body. How very wrong I was.

Instead of using beauty as the standard by which I was judged, it became “godliness.” I lost track of the number of times some well-meaning person asked me if I “really needed to eat that.” It didn’t actually matter what I was eating; I could have eaten anything and I still would’ve been asked. No one said it to my skinny friends under any circumstances.

As shaming as that was, that wasn’t the worst of it. It was the way in which preaching spoke of “the flesh” as a dirty, evil thing that must be overcome. I learned that my body was bad—not bad merely for being the wrong shape but bad because it wanted things.

In that graceless spiritual bubble, the mind, the body, and the spirit were disconnected. The body had sinful desires to overcome. The mind had sinful thoughts to overcome. But the spirit was of God and trumped all of our sinful nature if we prayed and asked Jesus in to fix our broken humanity.

I’m sure some of my conservative evangelical peers must be saying, “It’s not like that!” Perhaps it isn’t, for them. Maybe they didn’t already go into faith believing they were broken simply by virtue of existence. Or maybe they just can’t see it even though it’s right there in front of them.

It never occurred to me to medicate my shame. Food, substance use, sex, even suicide—none of those were options because they were all “temptations” to be deal with through prayer and reading the Bible. I didn’t touch drugs or alcohol or cigarettes because that would have been fleshly sin. Eating the wrong things or in the wrong way was sin, too. I stayed away from boys just in case my body betrayed my spirit and wanted more than hand-holding and innocent pecks on the cheek.

None of that stopped my body from wanting things, of course. I used to hide my Easter chocolate in my room and make it last for six months by eating just a tiny bit at a time. I would nibble, and then I would feel guilty—both for hiding and for eating. Chocolate was sinful for bodies like mine. I wasn’t disciplined enough.

I made sure I was covered, not out of modesty, but out of hiding. It functioned both ways, though, and I was safe from the bodily sin of “causing my brother to stumble” in lust. Not that I believed for even a moment that any boys were looking at me that way; I knew they all liked pretty girls with skinny waists and big boobs. Privately, I could barely admit to myself that I wanted someone to look at me that way.

My language was clean, at least on the outside. I pretended to be outraged once on a trip with some other Christian teens. A boy from another city said “shit.” I joined the others in telling him that wasn’t God’s best. Secretly, it gave me a thrill to hear such a word on the lips of the faithful. I wished I were that brave, but I felt ashamed for it.

I monitored my thoughts to make sure I wasn’t harboring resentment, anger, or lust. There was a boy I liked. I imagined what it would feel like to kiss him, maybe to have his hands on me. But I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that. I never asked him out because I was afraid both my body and my mind would betray me.

Alone at night, sometimes, I touched myself, all the time trying not to think about anything so I wouldn’t be guilty of lusting. Except the very act of giving myself pleasure seemed to fall into that category—not to mention the impossibility of keeping my mind blank, separate from my body. Orgasm and guilt became inextricably linked.

Everything was about overcoming the “desires of the flesh,” emptying myself of me so that I could be filled with the Holy Spirit. The more Spirit-filled I was, the closer to God. If I just let Jesus in far enough, he could make all the things my body—and my mind—wanted go away, replaced only by the desire to love and serve God in near-perfect holiness.

It didn’t work.

Instead, it left a gaping, dripping wound, a hole in the place where I should have been. I tried harder and harder to not sin, convinced I was broken somehow for not having the faith in God to keep me from doing the things a Good Girl doesn’t do. So I prayed harder, confessed more, and begged God to make me just not feel.

That did work. In the wrong way.

A door closed, locked, bolted. But instead of keeping my spirit safe from my own mind and body, it kept me from feeling much of anything for anyone else. And it didn’t stop my body or my mind from their natural inclinations; it only served to prove they needed to be separated.

I want to open that door again, but I think I’m afraid that what I unleash will be very much like Elsa in Frozen, setting off an eternal winter. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but not much.

Slowly, slowly, I’m unfastening the chains. I let myself cry with someone from church who was feeling a deep, heavy hurt. I asked after several friends coping with fresh grief. It felt good to allow their pain in.

If only I could let mine out.

Dear straight conservative Christians: I’m sorry I offended your “biblical worldview”

LGBTQ+, News

Actually, no, I’m not.

Yesterday, I posted about World Vision and their change in policy to allow married gay couples as employees. Obviously, I spoke too soon. They’ve hit rewind on their decision. I would like to pretend I’m surprised, but I’m not. Pressure from conservative Christians is swift and powerful. (I will not blame this on “evangelicals,” though conservative evangelicals do seem to be at the forefront here.)

I am angry. Yes, partly I’m angry at the hateful bigots who put pressure on World Vision to change their minds. I’m angry with World Vision for not having the backbone to see it through the backlash or the foresight to put protective measures in place. But you know what makes me angriest? World Vision’s apology to straight people.

You read that right. It’s telling that the apology wasn’t to the 2000 children who lost their sponsors yesterday or to the gay people who lost their job opportunities today. No, it was to the conservative Christians who went after World Vision over their policy:

We are brokenhearted over the pain and confusion we have caused many of our friends, who saw this decision as a reversal of our strong commitment to Biblical authority.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Oh, World Vision. You are “brokenhearted” that your friends were upset? Well, gee. I guess that must be hard. Much harder, of course, than applying for a job and then finding out that your legal marriage disqualifies you. Much harder than the fact that your stupid flip-flopping has led arguing of a strand that calls into question the very humanity of the people you just yesterday promised to affirm.

That must suck.

Well, I’m not sorry for offending any conservative Christians—not even a little bit. Come at me, folks. I’ll be happy to have you tell me I’m spreading a “false gospel” or that my eternal soul is in danger of the fire of hell. Remind me again that I’m leading my brothers and sisters (and people who identify as neither, both, or something else) astray. Tell me how I’m corrupting my children and causing someone else to “stumble” in sin.

Because I’m not going to stop. I’m not going to stop challenging the conservative belief that there is something fundamentally flawed about people based on their sexual or gender identity, and I’m not going to stop affirming every single person’s humanity, intrinsic worth, and right to live however and love whomever they choose.

Lest anyone think that there’s no cost in taking a firm, unapologetic stand, let me assure you there is. But whatever minor inconvenience, and whatever difficulties I’ve faced, that’s been nothing compared to what the people I cherish have endured. World Vision could easily have withstood the criticism and the loss of support, but they chose not to try even for a whole day.

Apologies to the conservatives who had a little of their assumed privilege curtailed for a few hours? No. My apology goes to the people who were harmed by World Vision’s indecision and by the fighting that resulted.

I’m sorry this is hurting you.

I’m glad you are part of my life and my church and my faith.

I love you.

Kyrie eleison–Lord have mercy.

World Vision and Unmasking Priorities

Evangelism, LGBTQ+, News

So, this happened. World Vision is now allowing married gay Christians (and unmarried gay Christians willing to agree to WV’s policy of abstinence until marriage) to serve in the organization.

As you can probably guess, I’m behind this as a step forward. Is it perfect? No. I’m not a champion of abstinence until marriage (and really, are they so sure their employees are all waiting anyway?). I also understand that this prevents couples in any state not recognizing legal same-sex marriages from employment, since that’s the specific parameter. I understand the implications that WV appears to be endorsing a heteronormative view of relationships (that’s a whole other discussion). But in the Christian world, this is huge.

Which, of course, means that the backlash has been huge. And that’s what I was thinking about when I woke up this morning to see that my friends had linked to several articles, tweets, and blog posts in which WV has been accused of deception, “empowering the darkness,” embracing “the world” (Christianese for “stuff the church considers wrong in society”), presenting a false gospel, and more. People have questioned whether they should withdraw support or discontinue sponsoring a child through WV. Lots and lots of people have expressed being “sad” about WV’s change in policy.

To which I say: Wow, people have messed up priorities.

Nothing reveals the true values of people more than asking them how they feel about anything related to same-sex marriage. Almost no one says, “I don’t really care; whatever.” The vast majority of people have one view or the other–that it ought to be legal universally or it ought to be banned or called something else so as not to mess with the “official” definition of marriage.

It would be awfully nice if it were a non-issue, but it isn’t, certainly not when people are expressing horror and outrage at WV’s comparatively innocuous change in policy. I mean, come on, people. WV did not suddenly announce that they have adopted a policy of beating small children or setting forest fires or shooting sub-par employees or drowning puppies. All they did was say they’re going to hire gay people.

How about we get back to protesting something that actually matters for a change? Because honestly, the only reason it makes a difference whether WV hires gay people is if you think being gay and/or being in a same-sex marriage is worse than acts of harm and violence. It only matters if you think same-sex relationships are more terrible social ills than poverty.

Yesterday, I posted a link on Facebook to a good review of the movie Frozen. (I promise, this is related.) A family member joked that I must not be worried that watching it will turn my kids gay. I replied that I wasn’t, but even if it did, I didn’t care. I suspect that’s the real fear—that gay missionaries are going to somehow turn the world gay.

I suppose my question, then, is this: Who cares? Which is more important—telling people about God’s love and providing people with food and clean water, or making sure no one is threatened by the presence of gay people? I guess maybe my own priorities are messed up because I sure prefer the former.

And if my kids somehow turn gay* because they’ve been around gay people or watched “gay” (by that I mean “things people accuse of being gay”) movies, so what? That just means both the church and the gay community get two more awesome members, ’cause everyone knows my kids are the best and anyone would be lucky to have ’em.

Let go of the warped idea that a small subset of the population is looking to colonize the world and plant their rainbow flag in the dirt of impoverished villages everywhere. Instead, let’s take seriously WV’s call to come together in Christian unity for the good of all.

*I truly do not believe it works that way; I’m just saying I wouldn’t care if it did. For real, I could write a whole blog post on why we need to stop saying “But it’s not going to turn them gay!” as a defense regarding gender pigeon-holing.

Bridge to Nowhere

Flesh and Blood

Dear straight conservative Christians: I’m sorry I offended your “biblical worldview”

World Vision and Unmasking Priorities

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