Queer Normativity: A Straight's Perspective

Man, unpacking and dismantling internal homophobia has been a long and quiet process. Its whack that my closest friends from back in New York haven't caught up and doing the work to help them do so is a draining and tortoise process. On the other hand, the beautiful people I have met in New Mexico are teaching me valuable lessons about what it means to normalize queerness, of which I am internalizing and expressing internally.

Queer spaces have given me the greatest sense of safety and wholesomeness that I have ever felt compared to non-queer spaces. I am grateful to be allowed in those spaces as a straight, cis-man. It is a testament to the capability of all straight cis-folk as being basic, decent human beings if they take the time to reconstruct themselves internally against the grips of patriarchy and white supremacy.

But the way I engage in this work of queer normativity is mostly internal. While this is due to my tendency to introversion in radical settings, it also stems from my belief that it is more important to do the unpacking by incrementally exposing myself to spaces that have historically created a sense of hate while educating myself on the history of where this oppression comes from. The pathway in this journey is unclear. But what is absolutely necessary to overcome the internalized hatred one withholds is to come from a place of love. Love is what guides me to learn, to understand, and to release hatred to spread compassion and kinship. If you understand what it means to love you understand that people deserve their right to existence, body and mind sovereignty, and self-determination. Love is a starting point.

It is also imperative to reject highlighting, and ultimately gaslighting, the presence of LGBTQIA+ people in non-queer spaces. It is offensive (and I have seen this) to, as a straight-cis identifying person, honor someone for being present. Saying things like, "I am so glad that we have a trans-woman here with us at this meeting/event/etc" is toxic. That is the job of people the queer community, who can actually relate, in interpersonal spaces. To outwardly express gratitude for someones existence is to reinforce that they originally do not belong, thus exacerbating a damage-based narrative. This is why the work of queer normativity is an internal one. Appreciating the survivance and resistance it takes to inhabit a space is a method of recognizing the patriarchal forces than make that survival virtually impossible. Embodying respectful attitudes is portrayed in your physical actions that proceed this embodiment, which I talk about in the next paragraph.

In a way that isn't enabling a savior complex, it is our job as the straights to give space for the LGBTQIA+ community to enact their own spatial imaginaries, mobilize in a safe manor, whether that means to put your body in the line for the community or provide a safe space for social gatherings, and completely reject straight-cis participation/opinion. The last one is very important. This is why I remain quiet: I understand my positionality in relation to my various privileges in various contexts. My voice as a straight-cis man shouldn't be the loudest in the room for many situations. While your opinions may be valid to you, they may not find merit in the queer community for many reasons: historic oppression, lack of understanding on your end, and even just because a straight-cis opinion isn't warranted in a given context. And that's valid.

Lastly, I must emphasize that queer normativity goes beyond allyship. While allyship can manifest in positive forms mentioned in the previous paragraph, allyship for some can be a strictly performative process. Like Lazarus Nance Letcher (2018) says, "It is easier to be an ally to a dead body than fight for the living, especially when the living lay at intersections that illuminate the shortcomings of yourself and your organization." While allies may attend a Black Lives Matter rally, their anti-blackness seeps through their daily interactions with black and brown folks, social media expressions, and non-critical analysis of micro and macro-aggressions. In queer spaces, this means white feminism, transphobia, and upholding white supremacy and gender binaries. Specifically, while white gays and lesbians may accept this behavior because they benefit from the privileges of whiteness and heteronormative gender roles, black and brown queer folk are left threatened and put in danger by the aforementioned systems. This is why trans contributions to queer organizing are constantly erased and that, according to mic.com, there have been 153 murders of trans folk since 2010.

There is still much work to be done globally and for myself internally when it comes to decolonizing our heteropatriarchal, hegemonic masculine minds. My friends tell me that I still uphold some machista attitudes and I completely understand that I need to work on them. When the work is done though you get to be friends with amazing people who give healing, loving, and safe energy.

Citations

Letcher, Lazarus Nance. "Transgender Murder Memorials: A Cal for Intersectionality and Trans Livability." (2018). http://digitalrepository.unm.edu/amst_etds/62

https://mic.com/unerased/database?