Thing #5: No Homo

I had the pleasure of having a long chat with Taris last night, largely around issues of social identities and awareness.  Since our cohort is taking our (one) Diversity class this quarter, these issues have come to the forefront of our lives - and even for those of us who think about them all the time already, we have the common experience of the class that we need to process with each other.

Taris said something to me last night that really made me think.  I asserted that we all have to pick and choose our battles - there's not enough pieces of me to engage in every battle that I'd really like to.  But as Taris pointed out, those of us who are really passionate about challenging the status quo - racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. - we can't turn it off.

It seems like our primal instincts kick in when we hear something ignorant or even overtly discriminatory, and in that moment we have one of three choices to make: walk away, educate, or tackle some ignorant fucker to the ground.  In that sense we have a "choice," but I think Taris is right that for those of us who are invested, we never really make the choice to walk away when we think we should be making a difference.

I have a tendency towards socially educating others in bars, arguably not the best setting for producing social change.  Two nights ago (the night of Creepy Charles) I put a white gay man in his place when he said he didn't understand why there were "ghetto" gay guys at the bar, referring to a few young black men a few tables over, dressed in baggy clothes - also known as "burglar" clothes, if you're in my Diversity class.  I played dumb, as if I didn't know who or what he was referring to, asking "What do you mean by ghetto?"

This tactic proves useful when people know what they're saying is asinine, because it forces them to say in plain words exactly what prejudice they're articulating.   Often the person will retract their statement, or change the subject, and while that does not allow for a further conversation on the issue at hand, the person has been shamed into considering their statements more carefully in the future, as they feel like a racist, classist asshole - and they know it's wrong.  Yes that's right, I believe in educating people through shame.  I stand by it as a legitimate tactic.

Last night, true to Taris' assertion that "we can't turn it off," I intended to socially educate a bartender, who complimented another man and immediately followed this compliment with "Not to be homoerotic or anything."  Remembering when "no homo" became a popular qualifier to any statement made by a straight male to another straight male at my undergrad institution (and I'm sure in many other places), I'm annoyed by the bartender's need to point out that whatever he said wasn't meant to be gay.

Stepping on the bottom rung of a barstool to add a little height advantage, I leaned over "Fat Tom," a local frequenter of this bar that Jenn evidently befriended before Taris and I arrived, reacting to this "not homoerotic" comment. 

"No, let's talk about- "I start to lecture the bartender, before Jenn and Taris each grab me by an arm and pull me off the barstool.

With my friends trying to keep me from getting into some sort of bar-argument, I know I've lost my chance to educate this bartender on his homophobic comment.  Since Jenn thinks he's hot, I settle for merely asserting that "you can't flirt with him, he's a homophobe," to make sure his behavior isn't rewarded by female attention.

Fat Tom, overhearing my comment, asks

"Ginger, did you just call me a homophobe!" (Fat Tom thinks my name is Ginger, as this is the name he guessed for me and deciding it was more interesting than Stephanie, I assured him that yes, my name IS Ginger)

"No, I called the bartender a homophobe" I tell Fat Tom.

"Jason?  No, no I know him, he's cool.  I'm like the most antiracist, antisexist, antihomophobic person you'll meet - I wouldn't be his friend is he was a homophobe."

Satisfied that at least Fat Tom considers himself an ally to groups other than his own, but not convinced that the bartender has considered the intent v. impact of his words (a subject that Maria writes about well), I tell Fat Tom that if Jason is not a homophobe, he shouldn't say things that make him sound like one.  Fat Tom and I continue a short conversation about how the world shouldn't be so damn homophobic, and I decide that I really like him.

I have some sort of religious need to educate others when I hear comments that piss me off (I had forgotten how much the 'no homo' type comments make me angry!!) and I can't really remember the last time I just walked away when someone said something I found to be wrong or ignorant.

I've felt really disillusioned with my social agenda lately, as if I suddenly awoke in an ignorant world that I zoned out from for a while.  Lately, finding good outlets has helped me recover my willingness to be positive around issues of social justice -I need spaces where I don't have to work so damn hard because people are already socially educated. I'm lucky to have some very socially aware, intelligent people in my life that I can have conversations about racism or homophobia with - even at a bar on a Friday night.  And sometimes, that outlet even comes in the form of a stranger who refers to himself as Fat Tom.

On the note of having positive "outlets," I've decided to shorten my 10 Things that make Stephanie angry series to just 5 things.   Stay tuned for "5 Things that Stephanie is grateful for."