The 'F' Word

The past few days have been an interesting display of the uglier side of human nature, of our primal urge to separate ourselves from that which is different. As a gay man living in Seattle, Washington, I rarely encounter intolerance to my natural persuasion. Us gays have a thriving community here that supports each other, and plenty of establishments to patron that we're sure to see other gay people, being gay, and not giving a shit.

I have been living in Seattle just a few days shy of a year. During that time, I have been so thankful for the gay community here as I think back to where I moved from a year ago. Deep east Texas. Not bad people, but just not quite on board yet. I knew that I was not going to able to have there what I have discovered in Seattle. In the South, the word "faggot" carries with it a harsh sting, but it's a word that you almost expect to hear of out someone at some point. It is the cost of living as an openly gay person in the Bible belt. Groups come to protest on your street with signs that declare God's hatred for faggots, and other Christian groups gently distant themselves from the more abrasive elements of the protester's message and look the other way. It's how the game is played.

In Seattle, you will get your face clubbed in with a queen's four inch heal for that kind of language. The threat of such a fate keeps utterance of that word to a bare minimum. Which makes it that much more caustic when you hear it.

Last Tuesday, while on our way to a birthday dinner for a friend, Kevin and I were strolling down the street in Belltown holding hands. The day was hot, and many people were outside to escape the heat of their high rise apartments. We were passed by a portly blonde with a spaghetti strap dress and a $4000 pair of cleavage, clutching a man's arm twice her age.

"Are you guys faggots?" her cracked out voice shrilled.

My reaction, having been seasoned in the South, was to ignore the apparent idiocy of the person. Kevin had a different reaction. Being from the Northwest, the word produced a snappy comeback about her retail breasts and need for another dye job. I realized that I was perhaps too passive about my willingness to except the outburst as something that comes with territory of walking around town, being who you are. I simply did not even want to dignify her insult with a response.

A few days later, I was coming home from a party in the wee hours of the morning, and stopped at a light. Next to me were a bunch of fratberries and their girlfriends, most likely coming back from a night of clubbing in Pioneer Square. "Hey, faggot," one of them said, as he rolled down the window to taunt me while I was next to him on the scooter.

Now, I will readily admit that the scooter is a little bit gay. I probably look a little bit gay while I'm scooting around on it, and you know what, I am a little bit gay. But the insult, coming from someone who had clearly had enough to drink, brought me back to South. It reminded me of how common the caricature of this guy is down there. And apparently they are migrating. Again, my response was to ignore this guy, as his girlfriend chided him from the backseat to shut his bigot mouth. Ah, straight girls, how do you deal?

The two incidents, occurring so closely together, were coupled by a third this week when I received an email from an acquaintance from high school. It was simply the most recent in a handful of emails that I have received from a person from my past that has discovered that I'm openly gay through Facebook. Social networking sites are splendid for a variety of things, but one of the more bizarre traits of such sites in the way in emboldens people you have not heard from in ten years to suddenly email you about how "deeply saddened" they are about your "lifestyle," as though your life is so much different from theirs. Just because I have "chosen to be gay" it is not going to stop them from praying for me. To date I have received about five or six such responses, spread out over the two years since coming out.

While the language of the email was in no way as offensive as the previous interactions I have described, the underlying cause of the interaction is the same. There is still a large portion of the population that thinks that homosexuality is some sort of offense against God; an unnatural inclination. Those who hold such views, and mistake the writings of fallible humans as holy words, offer their God up in service of bigots and homophobes. They also feel emboldened to speak into someone's life regarding a subject they don't really know about. All the while forgetting that they are proselytizing someone with rot iron fortitude, fashioned by years of internal dissonance that comes from being gay in a fundamentalist world. But, like their Lord himself once said, "they know not what they do."

I would love to find some sort of gateway between these two worlds. My old one and my new one. But, when confronted by someone with a drive-by evangelistic mentality, it leaves very little option. They tell you things you already know, as though they forgot how trained in the faith you were as well. It is disappointing, because when I have these experiences I am reminded of how far we have yet to go.

On the upside, the progress that gay people have made in such a short time against thousands of years of collective oppression is nothing short of amazing. The fact that I can live my life the way that I want, openly and without shame, is not a reality that I take for granted. Getting called a "faggot" by crack whores is an easy price to pay.

My gratitude goes to those who have come before me. To the Harvey Milk's, the Ellen's, the Stonewallers. They took a stand when it was not popular and paid a very real price for their resistance. Thank you for your bravery and vision of a world that would someday accept you as equals. It's coming.