I like well-meaning people and appreciate people who intend to be nice to me. I really do. So I don’t want this post to come off the wrong way. My gravitas should not be confused with bitchiness.
Though I complain about Texas a great deal (and there is a great deal about Texas to complain about), most of the local people around here try to be good folk. This makes me happy.
Still, the shelteredness of small-town Texans leads even the best to be sometimes clueless when they encounter an out-gay man. Here are some helpful suggestions for Texans who don't know many gay men:
Don’t ask me to help you with choosing skincare products.
Don’t ask me if I know the hip place in town to get your haircut. More than just being a stereotype, it is actually a sore issue with me. There isn’t a hip place to get your haircut in this god forsaken town. I am relegated to going to HairBarn (I know, my gay membership is in jeopardy, but that is another entry).
No, I didn’t see last week’s episode of Will and Grace. No, I don’t think it shows progress toward social equality.
No, I didn’t see last week’s episode of American Idol. Yes, I do think the judges are homophobic.
No, it's not easier or safer to be in the closet than out.
Don’t recount every encounter you ever had with random gay people as an attempt to show that you are not homophobic. If you haven’t had gay friends before me, it’s not likely we are going to be instantly close.
My recent breakup is not just like a divorce. It is a divorce. We spent eight years married (I admit I can’t push this point too damn far given that the ex decided that he had no obligation to live up to his marriage commitments to me. Still, even if he forgot what he promised, we were married).
Jokes about me being the “gay divorcee” are neither original nor funny.
Remember I have more interests than being gay or gay sex. Granted, not many more, but I do have some.
Don’t ask me why gay men buy so much lube. We just need it, okay.
Fighting for social equality isn’t one of many different political concerns to me. Voting to defend gay people is not the same as voting to add new parking spaces downtown. It is a concern rising from the deepest part of who I am and how I will be able to live and work in this city/ county/ state/ nation/ world.
Don’t ask if I had sex with women “just to make sure.” Have you tried sex with somebody of your own gender just to make sure?
Don’t ask me to tell you who is “secretly” gay in town. I know, but if they want to tell you, they will. Gossiping about them only makes it harder for gay folk to be out.
Don’t ask me to judge your dancing ability. I lack this talent myself, so why would I be able to help you?
Don’t tell me how hard it must be for me to live here as a gay man. I am a gay man and I live here. I already know how hard it is.
I am not interested in what your minister/priest/father-confessor said about gay people last Sunday.
Don’t compare the gay rights movement today to the African-American Civil Rights movement of the fifties and sixties. The gay rights movement also existed in the fifties and sixties. It’s not new. African Americans are still fighting for social justice today. It's not over. While we are on the subject, some gay men work/ed in the African-American Civil Rights movement. Some African Americans work/ed for the gay rights movement. They are different, but overlapping, things united in their quest for social justice.
These are just some thoughts so we can all get along in the Lone Star State. I feel better, don’t you?
Actually, maybe this post does seem too bitchy on reflection. Really, I do appreciate kind Texans. To be honest, anytime Texans don’t burn a cross in my yard, I am grateful.
9 comments:
I couldn't get out of that scary state fast enough. Sure people are nice, but they're judge-y. A smile hides a lot of malice down there. I'll take my rainy PacNW any day--plus our football team kicks ass (or so I hear).
Didn't seem bitchy to me.
Dude I can only say good luck at the BBQ Hair Barn.
Yay, another Gay who can't dance, either! In the Gay Complex of genes, I seem to have not gotten the "sharp dresser" and "good dancer" traits. My inner white boy trumps my inner dancing queen. But, to be honest, I've watched gay men dance and... well, I'm beginning to think the "good dancer" thing's a bit of a myth, really. Or maybe all the drugs have mutated the good dancer gene.
Your last point can't be repeated often enough.
I hate dancing. If my sister wasn't a hairdresser I'd have a mop of hair half-way down my back. All I know about skin care products is that most of them have some kind of chemical or perfume in them that makes me break out.
A friend told me that someone commented that, for a gay person, I don't dress well. I wish I could say I was just offended, but I was somewhat amused too.
But, no, I can't dance, sing, shop for clothes (not without my friend Michelle anyway), and I don't enjoy musical theatre (unless it's "The Rocky Horror Picture Show").
I do own the first three seasons of "The Golden Girls" on DVD, but hey...
(Nice to 'meet' you, by the way.)
A) Not bitchy. Well said, and necessary.
B) Bad news: It's not because they're Texans. Unfortunately, I think most straight people treat gay people that way. Same way most white people treat people of other ethnicities. It's a sad unforseen side effect of the P.C. movement, I think.
C) There's really a place called HairBarn? Wow. Just...wow.
Nope not bitchy at all. In fact, this is one of my favorite things that you have written. You need to move to Dallas so we can commiserate in person.
You forgot to mention, "Some of my best friends are gay." I've actually heard that said, in the blue state of New York, to an acquaintance of mine.
That stuff sure ain't limited to Texas.
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