Recently in Homophobia Category

Originally, I had planned to spend this evening reading the next chapter of Alissa Harris's book, "Raised Right:  How I Untangled my Faith From Politics" and resume my series of posts discussing that book.  Those plans changed when Alvin McEwen mentioned that Anderson Cooper officially came out to the world today.

I ran over and read Cooper's email to Andrew Sullivan in which he admits to Andrew (who I believe already knew),  Andrew's readers, and the rest of the world that he is gay.  It's a wonderfully worded letter and I highly recommend reading it.  Right now, I would like to focus on a part of Cooper's email in which he explains his rationale for not coming out until now:

I've always believed that who a reporter votes for, what religion they are, who they love, should not be something they have to discuss publicly. As long as a journalist shows fairness and honesty in his or her work, their private life shouldn't matter. I've stuck to those principles for my entire professional career, even when I've been directly asked "the gay question," which happens occasionally.

On the surface, Cooper's statement makes perfect sense.  When he is acting in his capacity as a journalist, his religion, sexual orientation, marital status, race, and any other personal characteristic should be irrelevant.  And I salute Cooper for wishing to make sure his sexual orientation doesn't effect how people perceive how he does his job.

The problem is, we don't live in a world made up of what should be.  We live in reality.  And the reality is that being gay, being a member of a minority religion, and several other personal characteristics or private matters do become an issue if they come out in the open.  There are those who will approach Cooper's reporting with (more) suspicion now that it's known that he's gay.  (Peter LaBarbera has already suggested that Cooper should refrain from covering any LGBT stories.)

The thing is, this mentality unfairly targets LGBT people and minority groups.  No one would question the journalistic integrity of Barbara Walters if she officially announced she was a heterosexual.  No one would have questioned the journalistic integrity of Walter Kronkite or suggest he shouldn't cover certain stories after mentioning in passing that he had a wife.

The system we currently have does not make sexual orientation irrelevant.  The system we have punishes sexual minorities by treating them with suspicion.  Keeping one's sexual minority status out of the picture encourages the latter, not the former.  It's simply giving tacit acceptance and approval of a system that says that people who do not fit the characteristics that society has determined makes a person a default human must either hide their differences or face the penalties.

If everyone plays that game, then the system will never change.  And I'd like to think that this is what Cooper finally realized.  Because the only way the system will change is if people challenge that system.

I decided to take a break from writing up my thoughts on "Out of a Far Country" by Angela and Christopher and Yuan.  While I find elements of the book problematic, especially in light of the culture in which the book was written and that it is presumably supporting, I feel much more strongly compelled to offer my comments on the arguments Janet Mefferd offered against homosexuality in general.

Mefferd attempts to draw parallels between the quest for LGBT rights and the quest to uphold  women's reproductive rights, obviously intending to show how horrible both positions are.  However, in order to do so, she engages in some extreme rhetoric -- making her accusations that those who support LGBT rights and a woman's right to choose of engaging in rhetoric ironic at best and hypocritical at worst.

As such, I would like to explore some of the arguments she uses to demean those of us who support LGBT rights.  (While I fully support a woman's right to choose, I would rather leave debunking Mefferd's caricatures of that issue to someone far more capable of doing so.)  Mefford's statements will appear in bold, while my responses and thoughts will appear in normal text.

1. Both agendas operate as anti-child cultures of death. Abortion kills children. Homosexual behavior can't create them.

In three sentences, Mefferd has managed to conflate not wanting to have biological children (or not wanting to do so) with being anti-child and conflates being anti-child with operating as "a culture of death," a term that I find practically meaningless beyond being used as a tool to instill fear and hatred of others.

This argument immediately ignores the fact that one does not need to biologically conceive or give birth to children in order to have children in one's life.  One can adopt.  One can become a teacher.  One can become a mentor, a big brother/big sister, a scout leader, a den mother, a Sunday school teacher, a youth center volunteer, or many other things.  Mefferd is once again engaging in the fetishization of biological parenthood and the invisibilization of every other form of adult-child relationship in order to denigrate LGBT people.

Furthermore, by claiming that not wanting or not being able to have children (and there are those adults who are not interested in having children as a significant part of their life in any form) is to be part of "a culture of death," Mefferd is arguing that the sole purpose of life is to reproduce.  Personally, I find this an unthinkably depressing and pointless understanding of life and culture.  If the only purpose in living is to produce children, who will in turn only exist in order to produce more children, who will in turn only exist in order to produce more children, who will....well, seriously, what's the point.  This turns life into nothing more than the biological equivalent of a pyramid scheme or other marketing structure.

Mefferd's failure to appreciate that people -- LGBT and others -- can remain childless and yet make great contributions to society in the form of art, science, philosophy, entrepreneurship, and hundreds of other worthy and beneficial pursuits shows how little she values these things.
 
2. Both agendas falsely play on people's unnecessary fear and guilt by focusing on the micro personal story, rather than the macro moral issue.

Mefford and many like her seem to think that morality can be divorced from the personal.  I disagree, and would argue that it's the interaction with other individuals that not only defines morality, but makes it necessary.  A person living on a mountaintop alone need not worry about morality.  Moral concerns are for those of us attempting to live with others.

The phrase "macro moral issue" draws to mind an attempt to reduce morality to nothing more than a checklist of behaviors that are either right or wrong, but without the context of personal interaction, such a checklist is meaningless.

Truth be told, pro-choice people and LGBT rights advocates make it personal because these issues are personal. These things are not abstract concepts, but very powerful and influential realities in flesh and blood humans.  I suspect that Mefferd simply wishes to ignore that reality in order to face those tough moral questions about why she should get to dictate how others should live their lives in ways that affect them greatly and herself not at all.

And to be honest, Mefferd and company aren't nearly as opposed to making the issue personal.  After all, they like bringing up Carrie Preejan, Marjorie Chrisoffersen, David Parker, and the Ocean Grove Camp Meeting Association and paint them as martyrs.  They like to talk (dishonestly, no less) about how individuals' "religous conscience" could be at stake.

And, of course, if your answer focuses on deeper questions about the effect on society of embracing abortion on demand or so-called homosexual marriage, rather than personal love for your own flesh and blood, then you look like a jerk.

The thing is, people like Mefferd have been pushing these "deeper questions about the effect on society" of various issues and making dire predictions for years.  And yet, they can provide no evidence to support those predictions, nor can they offer a convincing argument as to why we should take their convictions seriously.  At some point, someone needs to tell Chicken Little that the sky is still as high as it ever was and they need to quit fearmongering.

3. Both agendas rely heavily on Orwellian Newspeak. For the abortion activists, the terminology is "a woman's right to choose," "reproductive health decision" or "termination of pregnancy." No mention of babies. For the LGBT activists, the terminology is "equality," "civil rights" and "love." No mention of sodomy.

While it's certainly true that LGBT advocates (and pro-choice advocates) choose words carefully to frame the issue to focus on what they feel is most important to focus on, Mefferd is being disingenuous by implying that she and those like her don't do likewise.  Her use of the word "sodomy" is a prime example of this, in fact.  Mefferd wants to talk about sodomy, but here's the thing, LGBT rights are not about sodomy.  LGBT rights are about people.  Sexual acts cannot push for rights.  They have no need for rights.  People, on the other hand do.  Whether I'm celibate, actively engaging in anal sex, or just prefer oral sex (okay, technically oral sex is sodomy too, but most people who use that term are talking about the buttsex), I am a human being deserving of the same respect, protection, and rights as everyone else.  In fact, I'd argue that the whole reason Mefferd would rather talk about anal sex is that it allows her to avoid facing me as a human being.

I'm complete skipping her fourth point.

5. Both agendas have succeeded by obfuscating the physical death, pain or injury that comes from embracing their agenda....Similarly, why don't we ever see a major news analysis on the health risks of homosexuality, as reported on the website of the Centers for Disease Control? http://www.cdc.gov/hiv/topics/msm/index.htm

And just as Mefferd and others like her are obsessed with anal sex (but only if two men engage in it!), she and those like her are also obsessed with the "health risks of being gay."

Except that she (and they) ignore the fact that the health risks she's talking about have nothing to do with "being gay."  Truth be told, the health risks she mentions are also health risks for heterosexual people.  The problem isn't being gay, the problem is engaging in risky sexual practices.  And while it's true that HIV (the health risk most often cited) is of particular concern among gay men, Mefferd will not discuss the multiple reasons why that is.  She certainly won't quote this part of the CDC page she referenced:

Homophobia, stigma, and discrimination put MSM at risk for multiple physical and mental health problems and affect whether MSM seek and are able to obtain high-quality health services. Negative attitudes about homosexuality can lead to rejection by friends and family, discriminatory acts, and bullying and violence. These dynamics make it difficult for some MSM to be open about same-sex behaviors with others, which can increase stress, limit social support, and negatively affect health.

That reality makes her next statement particularly interesting.

I guess we are all to believe that the moment America's First Gay President repealed "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," all the health risks of homosexuality magically went away. Not relevant, homophobe. End of debate.

First, as I covered above, the health risks are not so much about homosexuality but risky behavior, some of which is encouraged by homophobia and other stigma.  And no, no one seriously expected such health concerns to magically disappear.  This is why HIV educators are still hard at work, why researchers are still working to develop an effective vaccine against HIV.  And it's why many of us are still combating homophobia in the hopes that one day it will cease to contribute to some LGBT people's poor health.  It's why various organizations are pushing LGBT people to practice safe sex and to get tested -- not only for HIV, but other STI's as well -- on a regular basis so that if the worst does happen, they can get the treatment they need to stay healthy and prevent further infections.

With the above statement Mefferd demonstrates that she doesn't know the first thing about the health concerns of LGBT people.  Her lack of understanding demonstrates that she doesn't care about them either.  Bringing them up is nothing more than an attempt to score rhetorical points on her part.

I'm going to pass on commenting on her final points.  I think I have demonstrated that her arguments are nothing more than the kind of rhetoric she accuses her opponents of engaging in.  Janet Mefferd would like to paint herself as the victim of the big mean gays and "abortionists."  Yet her clear dishonesty demonstrates that she is merely projecting her own behavior on those with whom she disagrees.

I often enjoy looking over the stats for this blog, particularly to see how people run across this blog.  Today, I found myself fascinated by one visit in particular because of the search they used to land on my blog:

do people have to be an lgbt ally to not be homophobic

Personally, I find that a fascinating question.  I also think it's a question that requires us to first understand what terms like "homophobic" and "ally" mean.  Of course, different people probably understand the words slightly differently, but since it's my blog, I'm going to explore how I understand those terms.

I tend to view homophobia as any action which negates, denigrates, trivializes, or lessens the basic dignity and humanity of QUILTBAG people, either collectively or individually.  This means that actually being up a QUILTBAG person, fighting against full equality for QUILTBAG people, and telling a joke that makes fun of QUILTBAG people or trivializes their experience are all homophobic acts in my book.

So what's an LGBT ally in my book?  Anyone who believes that QUILTBAG people deserve to be treated with the same humanity, decency, and respect given to heterosexuals as a matter of course and acts out that belief.  That doesn't mean that I think that one has to run out and volunteer to help with the latest marriage equality campaign or anything else so "grand."  For me (and others may feel differently), being an ally can be as simple as expressing displeasure when someone else tells a homophobic joke.  It can be as simple as lending moral support to the trans* friend who is having problems with a transphobic coworker.

So to get back to the original question, I think it's actually inverted.  I think the real question is, "Can a person seek to rid themselves of homophobia and still not be an ally?"  As I think about it, I'm inclined to think the answer is no.  I think as a person becomes aware of how their thought patterns and actions -- even the minor ones -- hurt QUILTBAG people -- even unintentionally -- and seek to change them, they are in effect going through the process of becoming an ally (or a better one).  After all, when you become aware of such things in your own life, you tend to become more aware of them around you, and it tends to bother you there.

For those of you who missed it, Cardinal George of the Chicago diocese of the Catholic church recently made statements on FOX News comparing the QUILTBAG community to the KKK because pride parade organizers changed the parade's route this year, meaning that the parade would pass by Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church.  Because you know, marching past a church one day out of the whole year and potentially making things a bit more difficult for church-goers wishing to attend services that day[1] is exactly the same as terrorizing non-caucasian people with cross burnings and other such activities.  (For further thoughts on the Cardinal's statements, be sure to check out Fannie's post.)

Well, apparently that hasn't gone well for Cardinal, (shocker, I know) because he issued the following statement on the archdiocese website:

Statement from Francis Cardinal George, OMI
Archbishop of Chicago
January 6, 2012

During a recent TV interview, speaking about this year's Gay Pride Parade, I used an analogy that is inflammatory.

I am personally distressed that what I said has been taken to mean that I believe all gays and lesbians are like members of the Klan.  I do not believe that; it is obviously not true.  Many people have friends and family members who are gay or lesbian, as have I.  We love them; they are part of our lives, part of who we are.  I am deeply sorry for the hurt that my remarks have brought to the hearts of gays and lesbians and their families.

I can only say that my remarks were motivated by fear for the Church's liberty.  This is a larger topic that cannot be explored in this expression of personal sorrow and sympathy for those who were wounded by what I said.

Francis Cardinal George, OMI

This is what some of us like to call a "fauxpology."  Note that the Cardinal isn't actually sorry for what he said, he's merely sorry for the way some people interpreted what he said.  Apparently, to the Cardinal, there is some mystic context in which it's okay to compare QUILTBAG people -- any QUILTBAG person[2] -- to the KKK.  A real apology would have started not with "I'm distressed that people took my statements that way," but with "That was a rather cruel and defamatory thing I said.  I'm sorry."

It would've ended there, too.  There would be no further need for an explanation or an attempt to rationalize his statements.  To be honest, the person you owe an apology to does not care why you said or did something hurtful to them. They don't care whether you were motivated by fear, greed, or voices in your head.  They just want you to stop hurting them and make whatever restorative steps may be appropriate.

The fact that the Cardinal goes on to talk about his "motivating fears" means not only that he's trying to make excuses why what he said wasn't so bad, but he's trying to make the whole thing about him.  Instead of focusing on the people he's hurt, he's making a shameless play for sympathy.

It's a bad play at that.  He's afraid of the loss of religious liberty?  Again, consider that the only "religious liberty" in jeopardy by the parade were that some church-goers might have been inconvenienced for a single service.  And while I appreciate that the parade organizers were willing to do something to mitigate that problem, such a minor inconvenience would have hardly made a martyr of anyone.  The Cardinal is simply playing into the persecution complex that his church has been well known for lately.

Recall that the Catholic church has lately been playing the martyr card because various states -- including Illinois -- has been telling them that Catholic Charities cannot take taxpayer money for adoption and foster care services while discriminating against QUILTBAG people.  They've also been complaining that Catholic health services cannot receive aid for health programs that refuse to either provide women with reproductive services or at least refer them to someone else.  It seems to me that Catholic leaders like Cardinal George only care about waning liberties when it's their own religious liberties.  When it comes to the rights of women and QUILTBAG people that they're religion doesn't care fore, they're okay with diminishing rights.

Of course, the greatest insult is how Cardinal George plays the "I have friends and loved ones who are gay" card, as if that somehow absolves him of his horribly anti-gay and homophobic statements.  I recently talked about the "gay friend" defense and will not repeat myself here.

Given the importance that the concept that repentance and reconciliation plays in Catholic theology, it seems to me that Cardinal George would do well to do a better job acting out both in this situation.

Notes:
[1]  To the parade organizers' credit, they delayed the start of the parade when the church expressed concerns about the parade interfering with church-goers ability to attend services.  In my book, they're willingness to work with the church made the Cardinal's comments all that more egregious.
[2]  Okay, I wouldn't be surprised to learn there's a QUILTBAG person out there who is actually a member of the KKK.  But then, they're sexual orientation and/or gender identity have nothing to do with the fact that they're a racist.  And it wouldn't be a comparison.

Bert Hummel would totally get today's post.
Like racism, sexism, and transphobia, homophobia is something that can be quite subtle, yet persistent.  Some people think that not calling gay people "dykes" and "faggots" and not perpetrating physical violence against gay people means they are free of all homophobia.  However, they miss the little things that they say and do that continue and encourage negative attitudes -- no matter how subtle -- toward QUILTBAG[1] people.

I was reminded of this earlier this week when I watched a random person stutter and stammer, and try to demonstrate his self-perceived non-homophobic status to me.  As I listened to him, I began to compile the following list of things that indicate one has a homophobia problem.  Some of the statements in this list are things that this person actually said, while other ones are things that came to mind.

"I'm not homophobic, but...."

I think it's good to start with this one because it's based on a greater and possibly universal principle.  You can replace "homophobic" with "sexist," "racist," "transphobic," "ablist," "classist," or just about anything else, and the statement will still be problematic.

This statement fails because basic communications teaches that the word "but" cancels out anything said up to that point.  The preceding clause can be removed and not change the rest of the message.  So if whatever comes after the word "but" is the true message.  If that message "sounds" homophobic, it is homophobic.

This statement is actually about self-deception, in that the person knows what they are about to say is indeed homophobic, but they do not wish to be perceived -- by themselves or others -- as homophobic.  They think that simply asserting that they are not homophobic, they are somehow insulated[2] by the homophobic sentiments they are about to express or imply.

If you find yourself saying "I'm not homophobic, but," stop talking immediately.  Accept that what you were about to say was homophobic and be a better person by not saying it.  Ever again.

"I didn't know you were gay."

If you say something in front of me and realize it wasn't a good thing to say in front of me due to my sexual orientation, then you shouldn't have said it in my absence, either.  It's amazing to me that people don't get this concept.

People are more concerned about not appearing homophobic than they are with actually being homophobic.  In their minds, it's okay to make homophobic and other problematic statements as long as no one -- at least no one who doesn't share those same sentiments -- actually hears them.  I'm reminded of the saying that what a person does when others are watching defines zir reputation while what zie does when no one is looking defines zir character.  It seems that we live in a society where many people are concerned about their reputation, but not their character.

"I have gay friends."

To be frank, I think every QUILTBAG person I know is one of those "gay friends."  If you talk about your "gay friends" as a defense against accusations of homophobia, stop and ask your "gay friends" how they feel about this.  Quite frankly, I'm the "gay friend" of several people, and they don't make my list of people I'd call up if I just had a bad break up, if I needed to talk to someone about an STD scare, or even if I was just feeling depressed and needed someone to talk to.  Quite frankly, such people overstate the strength and value of our "friendship."  I often suspect the person who starts telling me about their "gay friends" in this context are doing likewise.

There's also the fact that having gay friends -- even real gay friends -- does not make one a perfect person when it comes to being an ally for gay people or homophobia-free.  I do have legitimate friends who occasionally slip up and say something stupid and hurtful.  The reason they're still my friends is because when I point it out to them, they acknowledge it and apologize.  They don't start telling me how they can't possibly be homophobic because they have friends like me.

"I was only joking."

Now, I like gay humor.  I make all kinds of jokes about myself, especially those areas in which I actually fit the gay male stereotypes.  I also make such jokes because humor can be a powerful way to reclaim power over something that is hurtful and othering.

However, as a gay man, I have the right to make that choice.  I can joke about things that hurt me because it's my life and my pain I'm joking about.  When I do it, it's a powerful weapon I'm wielding.  When someone else -- such as a heterosexual person -- does it, it's likely to be rubbing salt in my wounds.  Someone else making light of that which hurts and others me is not empowering me, it's having a laugh at my expense.

I may let some friends -- those true allies that have walked beside me through my struggles and who would be the first to step up to my defense -- engage in such humor.  They have earned that privilege in my mind, so I choose to grant it to them.  But if I have not explicitly granted you that privilege, claiming it for yourself is hurtful and wrong.  Joke about your own pains and struggles.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that."

This is another one of those deflective phrases that people use.  It was a common catchphrase used by the WINK 106 morning show back when I lived in the Elmira area.  Whenever they topic of homosexuality came up, one of the show's hosts would quickly add, "Not that there's anything wrong with that!"

Here's the thing:  If you have to utter that phrase, then it's clear that even you -- or some part of you -- feels like you've said something that implies there is something wrong with being gay.  People who sincerely believe that there's nothing wrong with being gay and demonstrate that belief through their words and deeds need no such disclaimer.

If you find yourself making any of the above statements -- or remember when you've made them in the past -- it's time to re-evaluate your understanding of and attitude towards non-heterosexual orientations.  It's time to admit that, yes, maybe you need to address some homophobia still lurking in your thoughts.  That admission does mean that you're a horrible person.  But refusing to make that admission will keep you from becoming a better person.  And ultimately, isn't actually becoming a better person preferable to trying to convince people you're a better person?

Notes:
[1]  I'm actually hesitant to use such an inclusive term for this discussion.  While much of what I say is applicable to -- or can be modified to be applicable to -- intersexed, transgender, and asexual people, there are entire lists of ways that such people are additionally marginalized and othered which I will not be discussing in this post.  As such, mentioning them without at least acknowledging their unique experiences where I am actually privileged strikes me as problematic.

[2]  These are likely people who also operate under the mistaken belief that intent is magic.