A two-spirit writer, publisher, editor, chef and former law enforcement officer of Native American descent who lives in Berlin, Germany, and is completing a degree in Psychology. “Songs of the Universal Vagabond” is a personal repository of Red’s thoughts, emotions and memories, as well as links to all work online, fiction and non-fiction, independently or traditionally published. Links to Red’s other main sites are below. All comments, feedback and inquiries can be directed to theredhairedcrow at gmail.com.
My Messages For Hop Against Homophobia
Since I’d already written an article, “The Inter & Trangender Question in GLBT Communities” which I felt was relevant for discussions of homophobia and transphobia, I included my giveaway in it’s introduction. My angle is from a “blow-by-blow” not having to just battle homophobes but from also within the GLBTIIQ community, those who say they represent but do not obviously understand the range of what that means and who it may encompass outside of their “sphere” and favorites and choose to try to hurt and vilify gays who don’t fit into their ideas of how gays should be or what they should do or believe.
Anyone who posts a relevant comment to the article is offered a free copy of my latest release, a biography of a young, gay deaf Russian, “Silence In Multi-Colored In My World,” if they should wish it, but it is certainly not mandatory. My point in joining the Hop Against Homophobia is to highlight how bias and discrimination exists inside the GLBTIIQ communities and groups also. It is even more terrible when those like I have to fight the outside, and then those people who say they support GLBTIIQ writers and their works, without taking the time to even research and understand different viewpoints or perspectives.
Another article of interest which addresses a far more subtle but, what I believe to be more actively widespread, is that of homo-ignorance: “Home-Ignorance: Are You Part of the Problem?” This is the idea that misinformation, assumptions and stereotypes that are held and spread, even by those who feel themselves open-minded and supportive of GLBTIIQ communities in general, but need to also extend that wider to include individuals. No one should have to endure mislabels, discrimination or bias even from within “their own” communities by those who haven’t yet understood we are all unique.
Other current articles of mine:
- “What Does Gay Mean to You? Literary Circles and Political Scenes,” at Friendzstop, an online GLBTIIQ community.
Of GLBTIIQ interest at my blog, or specifically on Two Spirits:
The emblem used as an intro image was created by lgbtiq and other products of theirs are for sale on Zazzle.com. They do excellent, very beautiful work, please check them out.
Filed under Gay, Native American, Personal Entries
“You’re All the Same!” American Indians From A European Perspective (Photos)
“Stereo” Statue by Red Haircrow
American Indians have long been romanticized or vilified in Europe and other places, even North America for that matter. Many wrong ideas, stereotypes and long-held assumptions continue to persist even in this day and age, and generalizations and flat out ignorance exist about indigenous peoples from the blatant level to the subtle.
Much of it is based on films, television shows or books non-natives may have read that were written by non-natives, especially those who were not as knowledgeable or as objective as they claimed.
Some authors presented their ideas or viewpoints, whether they had conflicting original knowledge or not, in an attempt to create a greater “stir” or anticipation for their work, whether it was accurate or not. And in my opinion, whether its fiction or non-fiction, there is a responsibility any author or writer must bear when they misrepresent a people, culture or anything else. Of course, that is debatable. I believe in creative license, but I also very much believe in responsibility for whatever you write or support.
There are popular camps and groups here in Germany where children and families go to “pretend” to be Indians. They live in mock tepees and get little bows and arrows, and costumes (in the exact sense of the work) and spend a weekend or some days: being “Indians!” And they don’t want to be corrected for the wrongness. It’s their right, of course, to (re)enact whatever they wish. But for many, though they may acknowledge some things may not be accurate, they say it’s all in good fun. Yet, the crucial point is, no matter what they say, when confronted with a situation or a real American Indian, they quote some of their so-called knowledge from such things as if it is fact. Not fun at all.
Or you have the film series of the “Native American” looking fellow who did random heroic deeds, romanced women and basically looked “stone-faced” the whole time that people think of as representing American Indians. Reference Gojko Mitić, the Serbian actor who played in those films. I saw a stack of them in an Aldi’s (discount market) one day. Went through the cover images and titles, and had to stop my burst of laughter. Not that they were bad, because I haven’t seen them, but just because it struck me as funny, and some people here think that’s how “real” Indians are and look. My article, “What’s a ‘Real’ Indian?”
Modern Native American Art by Red Haircrow
Conversely, I’ve read of, seen images then had direct testimony from those who have “taken up” the American Indian way of life. You can find photos of groups of Russians, for example, who have studied Indians and then prepared tepees, and others goods and lead a nomadic life in their country. Yes, if you’re native, you might already see the inherent problems: not all American Indians lived in tepees. There were/are hundreds of tribes of American Indians or Native Americans, whichever you choose use, who had their own languages, customs, traditions, history, etc. even if we may have all come from a common ancestral group. If you want to be technical or ascribe to that belief, all humankind came from one common ancestor.
The point of my post, or rather what caused the thought process was that a few weeks ago I visited an Ethnological Museum here in Berlin, with a friend of mine, because they had a new exhibit of modern Native American art. I was interested anyway, but also wanted to see how many actual native created works were in the exhibit or was it interpretative work from non-natives. I was pleased to see ALL the works were from native artists.I thoroughly enjoyed viewing them.
Artwork by Red Haircrow
The majority were from Hopi artists, the vast majority. Next were from tribes of the Pacific northwest, but unfortunately only a few examples from Plains Indians, others of the southwest and southeast. I would sincerely like to see more from those tribes in the musuem. The exhibit runs until October 2012, so if you know or are a Native artist would be interested in having your work displayed, why not contact the musuem?
So, the museum had a “regular” area where a large amount of American Indian artifacts, handwork, weapons, clothing, etc. were on display all year round. There were many signs with information about various tribes, their history and bits and pieces of knowledge “did you know?” type questions around, some of which I did take exception to because the information was not strictly correct. It had clearly been interpreted from an outsider’s view, without apparently asking an Indian the significance of this or that dance or ceremony. Still, I found it alright overall, and was beginning to feel a more pronounced homesickness as I saw beadwork, moccasins and decorations that reminded me of the many evenings or days I’d spent with my People working at craft, telling stories and just hanging out. But fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) I came across a display that stopped me cold, and then my temper heated up.
Introduced by a large sign stating, “American Indians and Alcoholism,” the information launched into close to being mock historical examples of the dangers of “fire water” and how it devastated the Indians, and continues to be a problem. The biggest problem American Indians face today, in fact (it said). What’s wrong with that statement?
The biggest problem American Indians face today is losing their culture, their language, their sense of identity in a world that continues to grow more apathetic to the beauty and ancient wisdom indigenous peoples are still a part of!
Alcoholism is a problem, no doubting that, but it is a symptom of a far larger cultural illness. It is an illness that can be cured, but it is complex.The museum staff chose to represent this “problem” of natives in a glass display with a crushed Budweiser can and a flask of whisky next to examples of beadwork.Who thought that was clever?
NA Display by Red Haircrow
I felt it to be in dreadfully poor taste, close to being offensive. I stopped short of it being fully offensive because I do not believe it was intentionally meant to be demeaning, although I felt it was. I felt there should be a different way of demonstrating a point, and I actually wrote the museum to express my thoughts and respectfully request they reconsider their display. Of course, I did not and do not expect to ever hear anything back from them regarding it, but I felt it incumbent upon me to object. You can write them also here: md@smb.spk-berlin.de regarding “The Exhibits and Information on Native American Indians of North America.” Their website is www.smb.museum.
There comes a point when one is tired of being treated as a stereotype, even if we may laugh and joke about it among ourselves or those who know us. One of the best websites I’ve seen with native jokes and example of such stereotypes is here: a collection of Native American Indian jokes. The first time I read some of them, I absolutely rolled, because they were so true. Some of the attitudes and examples of ignorance or “un”-knowledge regarding Indians I’d heard from people in the U.S. but even more so here in Europe. Like when someone asks me where I bought my choker from, or my flute or clothing, and I tell them either I made them, a relative did so or they were passed down through my family…and they look at me in surprise. Or they ask me if I am Mexican or from a country in South America, and I say I’m American Indian…and they say: “Oh, it’s all the same thing.” When I ask them if being German is the same thing as being Swedish or Russian or French, they vehemently object.
Indian Girl by Red Haircrow
“But you’re part of the same continent, aren’t you? You might be confused to be from another country if one doesn’t know you personally or your language, correct?” They, of course, must agree. “But you are not Swedish or Russian or French, so why should you accept someone telling you, ‘Oh it’s all the same thing’?” Some look discomfited then, but the purpose of my questions is not to make them look stupid, but rather to make them really think about what they just said: the huge cultural generalization they made. I tell them, I don’t accept it anymore than they wish to be called Russian, and lose their own distinct culture and history.
Okay, Mexicans are a people who have distinct regions and traditions also, and they are a mix of Spanish and indigenous peoples, and yes, the Apache especially compared to other tribes, since their roaming grounds included what is now northern Mexico…have cousins over there, too. But we are still distinct.
Sarcophagus by Red Haircrow
I was discussing culture identity on an ex-pat private web group, and one member who was Swedish put forth that they felt it was divisive to state that one is of a certain culture. He felt it was basically stating that you were better than other people. But what his attitude and close-minded reasoning didn’t take into account was the other side of the equation.
First of all, why should he feel threatened because someone says, “I am American Indian” (for example)? He had stated he was Swedish. That is a people and culture, isn’t it? Yet then he commenced to bash other cultural references specifically indigneous peoples because it apparently made him feel like his own culture wasn’t as important.
My culture is a part of me. It is my heart and soul. It is how I feel and think. It cannot be better than someone else’s culture simply because it is different, and I believe it is absurd to try to say there shouldn’t be any differences because that’s impossible. We, as humans, will never be all exactly the same size, weight, height, color, blood type or any other such thing. So why are differences a bad thing? They do not have to divide, as long as there is discussion and understanding, an adoption of mutual tolerance and respect. Honestly, sometimes I think people like this Swedish O.P. harbor resentment, for what reason I cannot ascertain and wouldn’t attempt to assume. Rather I would prefer to discuss, and provide Europeans and others with a more accurate perspective of what being an American Indian is, or rather, what it can be.
Quoting Sonny Skyhawk in his article on Indian Country, “What Are the Challenges of Walking in Two Worlds?” This summation is terrific.
“Collectively, we have paid a very dear price. Ours has been a culture that has relied on the oral transmission of our history and values. Our languages and have suffered tremendously, and therefore our cultures have suffered tremendously, and we find ourselves struggling to hold on to as much of both of them as possible. Obviously, we have lost almost all of our lands—what is less obvious is the lingering cost of the occupation and holocaust we have experienced remain to this very day. These haunt us in a more subtle, even subliminal, way.
Yet we have evolved and are dealing with the hand we have been dealt, so to speak. We are and remain a viable, vibrant and proud people, with the same dreams and aspirations as anyone else. Today, having retained our values and beliefs, we are doctors, lawyers and every other profession that is found in mainstream society, and we are moving ahead in many constructive ways.”
* * * *
Other articles of mine on Native American topics:
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Filed under Culture, Native American, Personal Entries, Travel
Near Death Experiences: “Where You’ll Find Me”
For my final exam of the semester I had to write an extended description of what a “near death experience” is, similarities between research study participants, etc. In the textbook the course was using, a near death experience was described as “the distinctive state of recall associated with being brought back to life from the verge of death” (Duffy, Kirsch & Atwater, 2011). And perhaps as usual, according to my professors, I disagreed with that definition. I disagree with it because the heavily implied suggestion is that some outside source or person “brought” the person back. Almost a month ago I had a near death experience, and as I live alone at the moment, there was no one there to help. No one, no medical assistance or higher power that brought me back.
What happened (and part of my essay response): “My health has been extremely problematic the last two years beginning with a bite from a very poisonous spider May 2010. I nearly died within three days of that bite and have experienced severe side effects at times since, which eventually culminated in needing heart surgery December 2011. Because the lingering effects of the venom have changed hypertension and pressure, one is always cognizant of ill-feeling in a variety of ways. Despite all of that I continued life as usual as much as possible, though effects became even more debilitating climaxing almost a month ago. Heavy stress with personal situations and then professionally, a directed cyber attack by a group of “readers” (or non-readers as you’ll find they labelled my work), it was all too much.
As usual, spending much time on the computer with my publishing work, I experienced severe head pain and weakness and drowsiness. I decided to lay down to rest and lost consciousness only to awake unable to speak, again with terrible head pain. I couldn’t make any concerted effort to move, my limbs were weighted. I felt alarm, and I felt myself close to death. I could hear my heartbeat slowing, my thoughts. I couldn’t see but my eyes were open, and I felt as if I were floating. I thought and felt utterly in those moments: “this is my time. I am going from this life” but I couldn’t even wait for that last moment. I lost consciousness again.
As I live alone, it took me almost two days before I could get out of bed and get to a doctor, where I was diagnosed as having a Transient Ischemic Attack. This used to be called a “mild stroke”, but no stroke is mild. It is now more correctly labeled a “warning stroke”, 1 in 3 people go on to have a massive stroke, which some survive but often completely incapacitated, though many do not survive the first hours or days. I am now working through the continued left-side weakness and head pain, and sometimes a kind of mental haze, a lack of acuity.
I’ve been hit by a car while on patrol, I’ve fallen from three stories and survived. I’d been in a car accident in the last five years where I broke several ribs, had a concussion, internal bleeding and knees broken yet again. This last event was the closest I’ve been to death, and no one brought me back. This was my individual experience. My body continued to fight on, and it brought me back. It is logical to assume others have experienced and felt the same, as they’ve been away from any help. That is my reason to not accept the broad definition of the authors of this textbook’s terminology suggesting some thing or someone else had something to do with it, although it must almost inherently have been used for the subject matter.”
I had to write that essay earlier, and though I’d been somewhat better after a number of doctor’s visits and medication given, had been back having head pains. I can more closely sense when my body is having difficulties again although yes, I can project health. I’ll keep walking, working, that’s all I know but especially what I have to do for my son, my family….Yesterday (because its now almost 2am where I am) was one of those days. Too exhausted to sleep at the moment, but decided to converse with my son via computer.
We started thinking about a song we’d heard, which strangely reminded me of what happened. It was from the film version of “Where the Wild Things Are” whose author, Maurice Sendak recently passed. The song, “All is Love” by Karen O and the Kids, was harshly critized by some people who didn’t “get it”, but by others was described as conveying the joy, melancholy, crazy fun and darkness of life. If you know the book originally written for children, which became so beloved, was one the author said he wrote that wouldn’t patronize children. Not minimizing their emotions or fears, or triumphs.
I listened to the song again after months of having not heard it. I had been rather glad because my son has been transfixed by it and played it over and over again, sometimes more than 10 times per allowance of it. I never disliked it, but that many times in a row…well, I was glad for a break then. When I heard it again, in a crazy way it made me feel again what I felt in those moments of “near death.” The melody, the pitches, the impromptu clashes of voice than became harmony? You become the child again, as helpless as one can be as an adult, but completely cognizant of it as only children can more naturally be: sensing the things beyond vision, the unexplained terrors….Through it all, you just have to go with it, wherever it leads you. I continued living, and as always, you have to keep the song in your heart and mind and keep dancing.
”L-O-V-E is a mystery, where you’ll find me, where you’ll find all is love….”
Hear a sample of Karen O and the Kids, All of Love, at Amazon.com.
Duffy, K., Kirsh, S., & Atwater, E. (2011). Psychology for living: Adjustment, growth, and behavior today (10th ed.). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall.
Filed under Essays, Personal Entries
Listening to Others: A Flash Memoir of an Old Piano Player
Hungarian American Piano Player by Red Haircrow
Even before I officially began my studies in Psychology, as you can read in the introduction I worked in law enforcement, not exactly a profession where you think of as officers listening to anyone, but a lot of the time those of us who wanted to, could do so.
For me it was never about moving a vagrant from a certain area because shop owners or businesses wanted him gone, sure I might have to do it, but you could give them a certain dignity. Sometimes, they just wanted someone to listen to them, they wanted to talk and be treated as a human being even if their circumstances had gotten beyond their control. Sometimes, sure it was because of alcohol or drugs, but sometimes it was not having money, or because of a bad time or luck befallen. Partly why I left that profession was I wanted to help in a different, more practical “on the level” way, and too many officers used their position and power to unnecessarily silence others.
Anyway, this post is about the man I met in the photo. He was ninety-three years old at that time, in 2006. I met him at a Natural History Museum in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. He was a volunteer there. He played the piano in the dining area. He played it beautifully, with such love! His fingers were fluid over the keys in a way his body could not move as he walked.
It was a quiet day at the museum, and only a few people were in the dining area. Most of the tables were empty, and to me, the sound of the piano was soothing as one looked out of the windows into spring sunshine. And then someone started talking. Someone started talking loudly to their children, trying to drown out the music even though you could speak lowly right next to someone and be plainly heard. It was if they were annoyed by Chopin’s etudes, and wanted to make their very Southern accent, strident admonition to their children and generally derogatory remarks about the place in general to be foremost in the room.The piano player kept playing.
If you’ve read in entries like Cold Memories: Germany January 2004 or War Babies or Finding Friends in Finland, I am a listener. Even if I had less time for it, I’ve always found I like to hear people’s stories, what they think, what they have to say or feel they need to say. It doesn’t cost me anything, and if in those moments I can help them feel better or contribute to a measure of joy in the world, that’s good enough for me. It brings me also a pleasure somehow just to see that smile when they think back…
He was Hungarian, he was Jewish. At the rise of the Nazis began, he had been entreated by his family to leave Europe and try to make a life in the USA and since he was male and single, he could carve a place for them and make a landing point others could come to. He had resisted for a while, not wishing to leave his family but finally with his collected and donated savings had found a way out yet he hadn’t been allowed into the USA. They were denying at that point: too many asylum seekers citing problems of growing anti-Semitism the US was not yet believing in the seriousness of, plus he didn’t have anyone to sponsor him.
He said he had wanted to be a police officer. A good one. The US hadn’t let him in but Canada has accepted his petition, and for fifteen years he had worked odd jobs within a Jewish community he had been accepted into. He’d worked as a baker’s assistant, selling newspapers, night cleaning jobs. He had just wanted to live, but as news became more dire about the Jewish people and others in Europe, he said he felt an overwhelming desire to return to help, but couldn’t do that either. He couldn’t bring anyone over as he was, but he had believed that if he could get into the US, the land of golden dreams, he could make his dream come true. He could bring his family over. His parents, cousins and other relatives. That never happened. They were among the millions murdered, whether in concentration camps worked to death, outright slaughtered or worse, before they met their end.
When he’d learned they’d been deported and died, the focus he had to get into the US became his overwhelming commitment. He felt he still had to make that possible. He said it was what kept him alive through all the feelings of guilt that he was still alive, and the depression and rage, the grief and sadness. He had waited to have any family of his own: a wife or children, just to work and save as much as possible. When he finally got the approval, though it had been fifteen long years of application and denials, it was his greatest accomplishment he said.
“Did you not feel bitter?” I asked.
He thought for a moment, fingers still moving over the keys.“I had many more important things to be bitter about, but like those things, I couldn’t do anything about what the official decided except keep trying to do what I could.”
He’d eventually made his way rather improbably to Atlanta, but it was warmer and he said he found the African American community there very friendly and more accepting of his past and situation than some other groups had been, even some of the Jewish communities he’d tried to make contact with. He never married. He said there was a sadness he could never get over within himself, but he loved music and playing the piano and making people happy if he could.
He said he had volunteered and been playing at the museum for several years. When I remarked on the, what I considered rude or ignorant “guests”, he just shrugged and kept smiling his little smile. He didn’t do it for them he said, per se. He did it for a purpose: to have someplace to go during the day, a schedule, a place to be. He said he did it for people like me. It might be one out of a dozen who actually stopped to say, “Thank you” or one out of a hundred who stopped to actually chat for a while. That small percentage, just like the ones who escaped or were liberated from Auschwitz or Sachsenhausen were enough for him he said.
That was six years ago. I would imagine he might have passed by now, but I wouldn’t put it past his determination and strength to still be making his way on his walker to that piano in the dining room of the museum café and sharing the good parts of his memory and lessons from far away Hungary with those who took the time to listen and appreciate.
When I asked to take his photo, he was estatic and posed for me, and we talked more as he had finished for the day and we headed towards the door.
Here’s to you, wherever you are: having joined your family finally or still waiting. You made that day special for me, thank you. I will never forget it.
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Filed under Personal Entries, Writing and Writers
Homo-Ignorance: Are You Part of the Problem?
We’ve heard the term homophobic but how about being homo-ignorant? Even if you’re GLBTIIQ, even if you support those who are, might you be guilty? This article originally was published on the website Queer Magazine Online in 2011, which is now Friendzstop, the new website by Anders Rödskar.
The “ignorant” part of the word homo-ignorant is not to suggest someone is stupid, a moron or mentally challenged, but rather to suggest they simply do not know something accurately or haven’t thought a subject, topic, term, phrase, etc. through to understand what it can really mean though they’ve used it. Regarding homo-ignorance, Aunt Martha (see this reference link) said, “I think it’s a very useful term to distinguish between people who can be educated, and those who are willful haters, no matter how nicely they try to gussy it up.”
It is not to minimize or directly compare itself to the seriousness of true homophobia, but in it’s way, homo-ignorance can be a broader, more insidious type of problem affecting people every day of their lives contributing to depression, anxiety, and any number of negative emotions and behaviors that lessen a person’s quality of life.
When we learn of a homophobic attack: the beating of a transgendered person, the terrible killing or suicide of a young college student after being lashed with verbal insults or derogatory remarks about their sexuality, disgusting slang words designed to wound, one can understandably be incensed by the sheer idiocy and hatred shown by the perpetrator(s).
But have you thought of the little comments, the opinions expressed some of which might be believed as innocent or even correct by you, but which aren’t, or slighting glances or attitudes directed towards certain GLBTIIQ persons or groups? Have you displayed homo-ignorance by your comments or remarks towards others within the GLBTIIQ community?
There is so much misinformation circulating in the first place, so many opinions that have been influenced by incorrect data that was no more than made-up “facts”. Not to mention, the opinions and “I thought’s” produced by another person’s “I thought’s” where a lone or limited example is then applied broadly to a whole group.
Recently, I completed an interview with author Robert Dunbar whose dark fiction novels and short stories occasionally include gay or bisexual characters or situations, though his work isn’t generally labeled as gay fiction, and certainly not m/m fiction. He mentioned a comment from a reader who “who marveled that (he) wrote about gay characters who seem like regular human beings.” I thought this was particularly interesting as it seemed this person felt they were giving the writer a compliment, and I don’t doubt it, but if you look at the comment itself? Gays ARE regular people anyway, but unfortunately (and I can well understand their point) so many writers and media in general, such as TV and films, have presented gays as caricatures and stereotypes.
Some of the homo-ignorant comments I’ve heard from GLBTIIQ people or those who say they support, or who write about them?
1. “You’re gay? But you have long hair. I’ve never seen a gay guy with long hair. You must be trans then, right?”
2. Regarding transmen (though I simply call them men) or intergenders who choose to identify solely as male and gay: “Well, that’s not gay at all!” (Do you see the inherent problem with this opinion that chooses to tell other people what they are or are not? Not to mention the gays who discriminate against and exclude these men because of their personal prejudices.)
3. Regarding an expression from a young man revealing a decision to undergo gender reassignment therapy and eventually surgery, from a well-known author of m/m fiction who prides themselves on their knowledge and support of GLBT people, “Why would you do that? You wouldn’t make a ‘good’ woman, your face is too masculine!” Completely ignorant of the psychological aspects that contribute to the choice, not to mention the very emotionally devastating effect such a comment can have upon the recipient.
4. As a gay person, in my writing, studies, life and work, I do support GLBTIIQ causes in general, personally and actively, but I do not wholesale ‘jump on board’ any and all causes, even those such as The Trevor Project or It Gets Better, because I don’t agree fully with their actions and statements, although I do believe they can help some people. No doubt of it. Yet, I’ve been blasted a few times, mostly from women who do support those, that since I am gay why am I NOT part of those movements. Just because I am gay does not mean I agree with all things gay, support anything related to being gay or have a need to immediately interact with all other gay people or those who claim to be supporters, which often only means “certain” gay friends.
5. A mother whose transitioning ftm 13y.o. had been suspended from a popular social media network because of their long history of sexual explicit dialogue with older men, who replied, “That’s just how we roll. He feels he’s gay anyway, so that’s normal.” All kinds of ignorant in that statement, first because of the age difference and the danger presented to the child; secondly, though sexual interest is normal, just because a young person identifies as gay doesn’t mean they are more sexually active or desirous than any other teen. In fact, studies have found that the strong majority of gay teens who display sexual addiction through physical or even internet means have been sexually abused as children. So it is not an innocent conclusion or “response.”
Speaking on that last entry, which references “Covert Cultural Sexual Abuse of Gay Male Teenagers Contributing to Etiology of Sexual Addiction” by Joe Kort, an absolutely outstanding piece of writing and research, homo-ignorance displayed by parents, people in authority whether it was school officials or social workers, peers and the societies in which they lived in, directly contributed to the negative patterns of life and behaviors that resulted in preventable psychological disorders and general life angst specifically for gay males, but can just as easily be applied to other groups as well.
The point of my article is to make people think about their thoughts, actions and comments. Just as I advocated in my articles:
The Inter &Transgender Question in GLBT Communities (Photos)
“Two Spirit”-Tradition, History & Future
among others, it’s important to see GLBTIIQ people as unique individuals, and not merely representative of their sexuality, although that is a part of their make-up. Nevertheless, I won’t deny stereotypes can exist, both good and bad, somewhat truthful or false.
What are a few of the stereotypes?
If you’re a gay—
1. You want to talk about sex or sexuality most of the time.
2. You want to see sex or sexuality based media, films, photos, etc. most of the time.
3. You want to talk about or accept any questions about your boyfriend, partner, husband, etc. (or that you’re always looking for one.)
4. You support all causes related to being gay, i.e. AIDS research (yet another stereotype anyway!), Trevor Project, etc.
5. You accept usage of derogatory terms such as “fag” “dyke” “bitch”, etc. as being normal if used by other GLBTIIQ people.
So many of the homo-ignorant remarks I’ve heard, read or been made aware of were not solely given by heterosexuals or those who don’t like GLBTIIQ people, in other words, homophobes, but by GLBTIIQ people themselves and those who say they support and/or understand. Statements and comments that were generalizations, assumptions, lumping one person into a whole category they are not a part of, just because the person thinks they are or should be.
You could understand when someone whose never been around anyone gay (that they knew of) making homo-ignorant remarks even if you may not like it, but for me, especially when it’s someone who supposedly “speaks” for “us” it is more unbelievable. Or in the case of the new trend of “straight” writers and readers preferring to write or read work involving “gay” men, who say they support gays (but it seems only the friends they want to) but say they don’t really want to know about real gay life in general, they just want a fantasy “gay man”, i.e. imaginings of what gay life is just to suit personal taste not reality. Even more problematic is when it is a gay person who is somewhat influential, whether it’s in an online group or among the billions of humans on earth, who believe their opinion supercedes, overrides or is more accurate than others.
We need a greater awareness to this subtle problem, and my words are encouraging everyone, including myself, to stop, step back and take a look at ourselves, and see if we’re part of the trouble or really as open-minded as we think we are.
One of my possible foibles is I tend to avoid interaction with other gays in a group setting partly because in the past I’ve been overwhelmed by negativity and judgmental behaviors as some attempted either exclusion or discrimination against me because I do not fit the mold they think of as a “gay male.” Yet part of that may be based not solely on sexuality but the cultural and/or societal issues where they live because of supposed “freedom of speech” laws misapplied allows bias against others, and certain kinds of intolerance are rationalized, justified or even seen as normal. Freedom of speech does not mean freedom from consequences or harm done by your actions or words you should be responsible for. In any case, I, too, have to remind myself to relax although I always welcome and appreciate reasonable discussions evidencing mutual respect.
A few simple solutions (though such things are never inherently simple)?
- Be slow to judge, if ever you feel the need do so. Be more willing to listen and not make assumptions and hasty decisions that infinitely slow or completely stop greater understand being yourself and others. Let people be individuals, and respect them as such. Be open and willing to adapt and revise views to fit other people’s realities.
- Don’t be part of the problem of homo-ignorance. Seek for greater knowledge on a wider base of subjects and ideas as this expands the mind and the ability to accept and like things or people you might have passed over or judged wrongly. You might find the very best friend you’d otherwise have missed. Don’t be misled into thinking you do not display homo-ignorance at times either.
- Whether it’s homo-ignorance or racial ignorance or any other discriminatory or biased actions or opinions, be willing to be revised to a view of tolerance, understanding and love. If someone corrects you after you make such a remark, don’t get it angry or offended, or take the stance that they’re trying to put you down or something. Think about what you’ve said. You wouldn’t want someone attributing wrong facts, stereotypes or descriptions to you, whatever it’s based on, so do them the same courtesy.
Just like homophobia, homo-ignorance is something that needs to be recognized in whatever form, by whomever is displaying it every single day, and I believe it’s everyone’s responsibility to lessen and eventually stamp out such attitudes and behaviors. It doesn’t mean being confrontation, nor does addressing homo-ignorant remarks mean being argumentative or defensive. Occasionally, strong action may be needed, but sometimes all it takes is a word or two like:
- “I’d prefer if you’d not…”
- “We’re not all like that….
- “That’s not true…”
- “Please, don’t make assumptions…”
We can all help fight homo-ignorance, and in doing so, improve quality of life, self-esteem and energy, both on personal and societal levels for ourselves and others.
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Filed under Essays, Gay, Personal Entries, Writing and Writers
