Another Consequence Of Homophobia: Overcompensation?

14 06 2013

In my and other scholars’ research, the damage of discrimination to one’s health and well-being is clear.  On top of the constraints discriminatory treatment places on one’s life chances and livelihood, victims of discrimination are furthered burdened by the blow to their sense of justice and fairness, and their well-being.  It is no surprise then that so much research focuses on discrimination as a mechanism through which social inequality is maintained.

From my personal life, exercised in my professional life but not as a topic of research, I know well about the “positive” consequences of prejudice and discrimination.  I do not mean positive as in good or desirable.  Rather, I mean the consequences that otherwise would be good or desirable if they were not the product of facing discrimination or prejudice.  I mean the sense of solidarity with fellow members of one’s oppressed group, pride in one’s identity and community, and a drive to persevere and overcome adversity.

The “Gay Tax”

I know well of the “Black tax” that I and other Black people face, having to work twice as hard to receive equal recognition.  This is because Black people are stereotyped as unmotivated, unintelligent, culturally inferior, unprofessional, and immoral.  I find myself particularly concerned with how others will evaluate me and my work.  I find myself having to give a second thought to people who don’t give me a first.  It is hard for me to let trivial slights go because I refuse to be undervalued or underestimated.

In comparing how I navigate this homophobic society as a gay man to the “Black tax,” I can discern a “gay tax” that manifests as regulating (read: suppressing) my gender and sexuality.  To minimize heterosexual men’s discomfort with my sexuality, I remain physically and emotionally distant, and “man up” my gender presentation.  To dodge religious folks’ judgement, I make as little reference to my sexuality as possible.  And, as many couples do, my partner and I are rarely affectionate in public.

All at once, I am aware of these aspects of the “gay tax,” critical of them, but pay them for my safety and well-being.

Another “Gay Tax”: Overcompensation?

But there may be another aspect to the “gay tax” that is similar to the “Black tax.”  Aware of the devalued status of lesbian, gay, and bisexual people in society, some gay men have expressed through autobiographies that they throw themselves into their work to elevate their status.  Maybe, just maybe, if you are the first gay president, the world will see you just as “the president.”

In a recent study, Pachankisa and Hatzenbuehler (2013) found support for the “best little boy in the world” thesis.  In a sample of gay and heterosexual male college students, their results suggest that gay men are more likely than heterosexual men to derive their self-worth from academics, appearance, and competition.  And, the length of time that gay men remained in the closet, and the level of homophobic prejudice and discrimination in their state, were strong predictors of the extent to which these young gay men derive their self-worth from competition.

It’s the idea that young, closeted men deflect attention from their sexuality by investing in recognized markers of success: good grades, athletic achievement, elite employment and so on. Overcompensating in competitive arenas affords these men a sense of self-worth that their concealment diminishes (from NYT review).

The downside of this “positive” consequences of the stigma gay men face is their health and well-being.  Through a nine-day diary, these gay men’s focus on elevating their status (either professionally or aesthetically) predicted long periods of isolation, interpersonal problems, unhealthy eating behaviors, and emotional distress.

All Gay Men?  What About Women?

The researchers devoted a great deal of discussion to the generalizability of their findings.  With a non-random sample of gay male college students, there is reason to worry that these findings do not translate into the experiences of all gay men, particularly those from economically disadvantaged backgrounds.  Further, the sample is overwhelmingly white.  So, in a blog post about the article, the lead author noted:

Importantly, like the authors of “best little boy in the world” narratives, the participants in our study were mostly white, middle class, college-educated men.  The extent to which possessing multiple stigmatized identities might shape self-worth remains to be seen, as does the extent to which this or a similar phenomenon applies to women.

In addition to assessing how other gay men (especially gay men of color, working-class gay men, older gay men), are affected by and respond to homophobia, one curiosity remains: what about women?

What about female sexual minorities, you might ask? “The notion of the ‘best little boy in the world’ crops up everywhere in stories about gay men’s early lives and not as much in the narratives of young lesbians,” lead researcher John Pachankis of Yeshiva University told me in an email. “That certainly doesn’t mean that women don’t experience a similar phenomenon, but only that lesbians’ personal stories don’t seem to emphasize it as much.” Exploring that particular question is a next step for research, he says.

Ironically, the language of “overcompensating” has been used in discussions of this study, but without explicit reference to the gendered notions of (men’s) overcompensation.  It may be the case that these young men are emasculated by homophobia, and they (like many men) have found some way to compensate in their effort to measure up to the rigid expectations of masculinity.  And, funny enough, many appear to set their sights on arenas that are not vehemently homophobic — academics and aesthetics.  Athletics, sex with lots of men, and big trucks do not seem to top the list of the things gay men wish to brag about.  So, this raises some interesting (unaddressed) questions about gay masculinity.

That’s Me!

Ah, yet another study where I, as a scholar, am humbled to reminded that I am a human, equally affected by the social world as everyone else.  In his NY Times article, federal lawyer Adam D. Chandler echoed some of these sentiments:

But seeing your reflection in an empirical study has its drawbacks. The flip side of discovering you’re not alone is the melting of your presumed snowflake uniqueness. Now I’m a statistic, another data point, just an ordinary overachieving closet case.

That’s bad enough. What’s worse is that the biography is half finished. They haven’t told me what’s on the other side of the closet door. Once I’m no longer harboring my secret, will I lose my drive? Or will my lifelong trophy hunt expand to include a search for a trophy husband?

I don’t know the answers. But I’m ready to find out.

Toward (Some Of) The Answers

Like any manifestation or consequence of oppression, a starting point is becoming aware of this drive to overcompensate.  This is yet another aspect of the homophobic reality gay men note and challenge in raising our gay consciousnesses.  And, I can provide (some of) the answers Chandler wants.

In a general sense, strong social support will help to minimize some of the distress.  And, having multiple roles or other important, ongoing tasks, events, affiliations, relationships, etc. is beneficial as well.  We do ourselves a disservice as gay men by isolating ourselves — that’s the opposite of seeking social support and others like us (as well as supportive allies).  By focusing narrowly on elevating our status, we place so much stock into too few things, leaving us vulnerable to having our entire self-worth tank when those aspects of our status do not go well.

But, more specific to gay men is a strong, positive gay identity and connection to the LGBT community that helps to buffer the harmful effects of our exposure to prejudice and discrimination.  While inevitable, how we respond to these stressful aspects of homophobic oppression can reduce their impact to our health — namely, challenging discriminatory treatment and confiding in trusted others about these experiences rather than accepting and repressing them.  And, rejecting (rather than internalizing) the homophobic prejudice and stereotypes of our society, and general self-acceptance are crucial for our well-being.  I recommend (again) Dr. Crystal Fleming‘s advice on rejecting others’ stereotypes and hatred.

The lead author of the study, a psychologist, offered the following recommendations:

Our research also reveals some important lessons for young gay men’s health and well-being.  The results of our research suggest that gay men take careful stock of the extent to which their self-worth derives from seeking status from domains like being the best, looking the best, or earning high grades or lots of money.  If gay men do recognize that their self-worth comes from those domains, they might consider the health costs of doing so.  Do they experience trouble in relationships with others, such as frequent arguing or spending lots of time alone?  Will they compromise personal values to attain status?  Are they chronically stressed or engaging in unhealthy habits, like going to the gym to an unhealthy degree or restricting their food intake?

If gay men answer “yes” to any of these questions, it will first be important to recognize that these difficulties are not personal failings and may have their source in stigma and the early lessons learned from growing up in a stigmatizing world.  Psychotherapy with a compassionate, gay-affirmative therapist can help gay men understand the legacy of experiencing early stressors like hiding one’s sexual orientation during adolescence or growing up in homophobic environments.  For many gay men, the negative effects of these early experiences may not be obvious at first, but can nonetheless be successfully addressed with supportive help from friends or professionals.

In understanding this “gay tax” as a stressor unique to gay men (similar to the “tax” that other oppressed groups face), I also recommend mental health service that treat patients who are gay as gay patients.  That is, care that understands the unique needs and experiences of gay people, rather than treating them as interchangeable with any other patient.  I strongly recommend The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing Up Gay in a Straight Man’s World

Oh, and eliminating homophobic prejudice and discrimination helps, too!





Tear-Jerker Expedia Commercial Features Same-Gender Wedding

8 06 2013

Earlier this week, Cheerios received very nasty, racist responses to its new commercial featuring an interracial family.  It’s 2013, and racist prejudice still reveals its ugly presence every once in a while to remind us that it still exists.  The shift toward tolerance for same-gender couples is years behind majority tolerance of interracial couples.  So, I suspect it takes a great deal more bravery for companies to support LGBT rights and marriage equality, let alone feature LGBT people and same-gender couples in their advertising.

But, the pro-LGBT companies are coming forward, explicitly resisting homophobes’ efforts to re-erase LGBT people.  The newest pro-LGBT advertisement is an Expedia commercial that features a father attending the wedding of his daughter and her (female) partner.  See it below.

This one differs from other advertisements which either feature still photos of same-gender couples, or even a quick, passing (semi-subtle) reference to same-gender marriage.  It is almost like a mini-movie, with tension, character development, and a happy ending.  What I appreciate is that it takes on the father’s perspective, and that he struggled with how to navigate his daughter’s “new” life and relationship.  This is an honest portrayal of how many parents come around to accepting their LGBT children.  (I suspect that few come out to parents who have been LGBT-friendly all of their lives.)

Expedia has been an explicitly LGBT-friendly company for years.  But, until this commercial, that friendliness was only expressed to and known among LGBT communities.  They, like many companies, advertise to LGBT consumers, but save themselves the homophobic backlash by ensuring that only LGBT people know that.  Now, they have made the bold step (though after others) to tell heterosexual, cisgender America that they are LGBT-friendly.

Uh oh… the gay storm is coming.  Hallelujah!





Happy Pride Month! #LGBTPride365

4 06 2013

June is LGBT Pride Month!  (It’s true — even the President recognizes it.)  Lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans*, and queer communities in the US have come a long way, with so much progress toward equality that remains.  So, there is a lot to celebrate and an infinite number of reasons to be proud.  (See my 2012 post at Kinsey Confidential.)

Here’s a little treat to kick off the month — Heather Small’s “Proud.”  It was used for the 2012 Olympics in London, but has been used quite a bit for LGBT audiences and celebrations.  The lyrics are below, including my favorite: “Realize that to question is how we grow (to question is to grow).”


“Proud” by Heather Small

I look into the window of my mind
Reflections of the fears I know I’ve left behind
I step out of the ordinary
I can feel my soul ascending
I’m on my way
Can’t stop me now
And you can do the same (yeah)
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
It’s never too late to try
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
You could be so many people
If you make that break for freedom
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
Still so many answers I don’t know (there are so many answers)
Realize that to question is how we grow (to question is to grow)
So I step out of the ordinary
I can feel my soul ascending
I’m on my way
Can’t stop me now
You can do the same (yeah)
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
It’s never too late to try
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
You could be so many people
If you make that break for freedom
What have you done today to make you feel proud? (yeah)
We need a change (Yeah)
Do it today (yeah)
I can feel my spirit rising
(change, yeah) We need a change (yeah)
So do it today (yeah)
‘Cause I can see a clear horizon What have you done today to make you feel proud? (to make you feel proud)
(let me hear ya X3)So what have you done today to make you feel proud?
(yeah) ‘Cause you could be so many people
Just make that break for freedom
So what have you done today to make you feel proud?




On “Teaching While Gay”

16 05 2013

The Chronicle of Higher Education recently featured an interesting article by Domenick Scudera on “teaching while gay.“  Scudera raises the question (or concern, really) to queer professors how to navigate one’s own experiences and views and those of students who may “oppose” homosexuality:

If there are students who oppose homosexuality, those students should feel safe within the confines of our classroom to express their opinions in a respectful way. But how would that make me feel? Would I feel safe?

Further:

More important, am I harming my gay students? I believe it is helpful to them, in a safe environment, to hear the arguments against homosexuality. They will encounter those same arguments in the “real” world, as I have. I want them to be prepared. Polls tell us that homophobia persists in our country. It is reasonable to assume that some students in my classroom hold such negative beliefs about homosexuality. They might be reticent to express their feelings in the classroom. Do I have a responsibility to create an atmosphere to bring those thoughts forward?

He suggests that, unlike racist, misogynistic, or anti-Semitic views that students may express — which he would shut down immediately, without question — he tends to entertain homophobic views expressed by students.  He even plays “devil’s advocate” when students raise pro-LGBT views in class discussions.  But, there are lingering questions of a responsibility to create a safe classroom environment, which seems to push against the responsibility to respect free speech (and thought).

My Take

My initial thought on this is when are there debates in college classrooms on homosexuality — I suppose simply on how students feel about it, the morality of same-sex sexuality and relationships, etc?  Because the debates are so wrapped up in religious doctrine, I cannot think of any non-theology classrooms where a comment such as, “well, I’m against homosexuality” is relevant to a class discussion.

If my read is accurate, then this should not be much of a dilemma.  Students’ comments that are either tangential or irrelevant to the class discussion, particularly that are simply expressions of prejudice or hatred, should not be tolerated.  We, as educators, have a responsibility to create classroom spaces that are free from intolerance.  Yes, even though students are exposed still in the “real world,” our responsibility is just the classroom; and, why not provide at least that one space as a place where students, queer and straight alike, do not have to hear, “the Bible says it’s a sin”?

My view is, in general, if it does not draw on course materials, or challenge them, the comment is a tangent at best.  This goes, too, for thinly veiled expressions of bias that give a passing reference to course materials.  For example, once, on an exam, a student of mine lost points and asked me why.  The provided answer briefly noted what an article covered, and then went on to oppose homosexuality.  The question, I believe, asked to draw on queer theory to either make sense of the article, or explain why it does not fit with the theory.   So, there was no room for students to weigh the merits of same-sex relationships!

A second question is why homosexuality is even addressed as something to be debated.  Why treat it as an issue by which no one is personally affected?  Why, in light of pro-LGBT views, play “devil’s advocate”?  (Again, simply saying, “I’m all for gay marriage,” is still likely tangential at best, unless professors are holding debates on whether to legalize it.)

This is a component of my larger concern of what is lost by approaching teaching from a distance, as though one is merely an “objective” professor with no personal ties to the course content.  What is missed by letting the course texts discuss the lives of LGBT people, but essentially keeping the professor’s sexual identity and experiences as a gay person in the closet?  Certainly, I am aware of the presumption of bias, that students tend to misread queer professors as advancing “the gay agenda” in the classroom; and “real” activism by LGB professors comes at a cost in academia in general.  And, it may be the case that they, like women and people of color, are assumed to be less competent by students, as well.  And, there may be concerns for one’s safety and job security.  This should not be read as encouragement to express one’s own ideology.  But, I still struggle with understanding why so many professors teach as though they are robots with no present, no future, no sort of personal history and experiences.

There are no easy answers.  And, of course, much of this varies based on the particular institution (especially religious vs. secular), type of course, and the professors own level of comfort.  But, even short of outing oneself, there are ways to minimize the expression of homophobia and transphobia in the classroom.  And, these strategies may even challenge students’ views in general.  Maybe “debates about homosexuality” should be avoid to get away from explicitly inviting opposition.  Offer, or create (with one’s students), a set of guidelines for classroom discussion that makes clear that prejudice and mean-spiritedness will not be tolerated.  Encourage students to exercise their skills to use, extend, or challenge course material, sprinkled with other forms of knowledge, in a way that their own personal opinion does not serve as their primary point in speaking during discussion.

Either way, I hope that Scudera is right in his hope for the future:

Fifty years in the future, this will no longer be an issue. If we believe the pundits, same-sex marriage in America is inevitable, and with it may come widespread acceptance of the LGBT community. In 2063, a professor like me, teaching a course like the “Common Intellectual Experience,” will not have to pause when preparing to teach a book like Fun Home to his students.





Reflections On Self-Doubt In Academia

13 05 2013

In her latest blog post, “On Racism, Inferiority, and the Self,” sociologist Crystal Fleming reflected on the sense of inferiority that too many members of oppressed groups feel.  She notes:

What I have learned is that racism, homophobia, sexism and all other ‘isms’ only sting when we buy into the fiction that our worth is determined by what other people think of us.  When we feel pain from being stereotyped or negatively viewed, it’s because we needlessly give our power away. And at any moment, we can choose to stop doing that.

Unfortunately, even with a sense of pride in our identity and community, and the related rejection of the prejudices toward our group(s), we still experience the “sting” of such hostility:

But all it takes is exposure to a sexist or racist comment to remind us that some people think very poorly of us. And when that happens, the anger we feel might eclipse a pain we may have never acknowledged–the pain of fearing that the bigot, the chauvinist or the homophobe might be right.  Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I am inferior. And even if we reject the idea that we are less than, we may nonetheless feel wounded by another human being’s searing rejection.

To get past this, she argues for further rejection of the dominant society’s stereotypes, prejudice, discrimination, and hostility:

The point is to realize that this wounded ego–this lie of inferiority–does not define you. Could never define you. You are the Witness. You are Presence. You are beyond any idea, thought or construct. And the tragicomic, hilarious truth is that you have always been this whole, perfect Being. The beautiful thing is that the truth of who You really are doesn’t depend on your state of mind, your thoughts or your level of awareness.

The Case Of Graduate School

I have made a life-long promise to myself to focus my energy as a scholar on advocating for social justice, liberating oppressed communities, and making academic knowledge and research accessible beyond the ivory tower.  In other words, I do not want to waste my energy on navel-gazing, doing research on academia, engaging in initiatives that promote academia for its own benefit.  Lately, I let myself get caught up in debates with some of my colleagues about research, but primarily from a concern of the impact research has beyond academe.  I will give myself a pass, but I do wish to return to scholarship (including blogging) that serves those outside of the academy.

In another way, I find myself reneging on this promise: reflecting on my time in graduate school.  This chapter of my life is coming to a close, and I will soon embark on the next as a professor at the University of Richmond.  So, in that regard, it makes sense that I would reflect on these past six years.  But, I also find myself reflecting, not just to myself but publicly as well, in a way that feels as though pent up thoughts are now gushing out.  Yep, it is as though I remained silent for six years, and now am releasing my tell-all book, albeit in snippets as blog posts, tweets, and Facebook posts.  Again, I do not wish to write a book on graduate school — it’s been done, and can be useful, but I prefer to devote my energy as a scholar on work that serves others more directly.

BA Graduation ('07)

BA Graduation, UMBC (’07)

Where does this silence come from?  I recently reread a letter I wrote to myself, “A Letter to an Activist,” in which I reflected on my life and upbringing, my values, and my social justice-informed agenda as a scholar.  In it, I noted that I have been outspoken, challenging stereotypes, exclusion, and silences since the age of 5.  My first attempt at activism was demanding that my kindergarten teacher explain why I could only select one racial identity on a form for school.  That multiracial activism flourished, including challenging fellow students who insisted on using the term “mulatto” (possibly a derivative of mule, implying that interracial marriage is equivalent to cross-species breeding), and participating on forums for multiracial and multiethnic people.  Not even three months after coming out of the closet, I was organizing my high school’s National Day of Silence, which also flourished into bigger activism during my time in college.

With the support and encourage of my parents to be proud of who I am, and to speak up, particularly to challenge injustice, I rarely knew silence and doubt (aside from the doubt many queer people must reject through coming out and rebuilding one’s sense of self).  I came to graduate school just as outspoken.

MA Graduation, IU ('09)

MA Graduation, IU (’09)

On one of the first days, a faculty member asked what we would do if the US reinstated the draft for military service.  (Six years later, the question still seems odd, its purpose and his agenda unclear.)  My cohort-mates, one by one, gave uncertain answers.  (Really, as a PhD student who would probably be excused, who has thought about what they would do?)  When my turn came, I offered, “even if they don’t ask, I would tell!”  My cohort-mates released a collective, unexpected laugh — as did I, feeling quite proud of myself for responding to a silly question with a silly answer (while simultaneously pointing out that I could not serve [pre-Don't Ask Don't Tell repeal] as a queer person).  These days, that bravery looks much different, less humorous, and comes after a great deal more introspection and weighing the risks of speaking up.

Yep, just days from having a doctorate in hand, I actually feel less brave, more hesitant to speak up, than when I merely had a Bachelor’s degree.  I already knew that self-doubt set in, that my voice wavers when I speak, even in casual conversations with faculty.  It became painfully obvious when, during a visit to U Richmond, my partner pointed out that I seemed strangely unsure of myself when speaking with my future colleagues.  Almost daily, he is the sole audience member to my fiery rants about various current events and controversies in academia; he sees me singing at the top of my lungs and dancing around our apartment when I’m feeling good or sassy.  So, why the heck was I talking to my future colleagues as though I was a nervous, awkward undergraduate student?  (I wasn’t even like that when I actually was an undergrad!)

PhD Graduation, IU ('13)

PhD Graduation, IU (’13)

Unfortunately, the very training that is designed to empower me intellectually has also disempowered me in other ways.  The academy’s emphasis on status, expertise, and evidence (i.e. data) has humbled me — no, it has made be carry an overwhelming sense of doubt.  Besides these emphasized values, the professional socialization of graduate training has included a repeated wearing of my sense of self as a person of color, as a queer person, as an activist.  My introduction to “the classics” of sociology included token coverage of “people like me” — one week on feminist theory (including black feminist theory and standpoint theory) in my social theory course.  New projects were often criticized for lacking a “big question” because, as I was told, merely studying the lives of queer people, or Black people, or women is not interesting to the mainstream of the discipline; there must be some broader question in order for it to be broadly relevant.  There is a deradicalization that seems inherent to this professional socialization, as well, which, at times, were made explicit — the promise to “beat the activist” out of me.

So, I hear where Crystal is coming from.  I appreciate her insight and advice.  But, I must say, we face a nearly-impossible challenge of remaining whole as scholars from marginalized backgrounds when we are systematically bombarded with messages that say we are not good enough, that we are not smart enough, that are communities are not interesting, and so on.  Arguably, all educational training is like this, though I suspect things were a bit better for me because I consistently attended diverse (particularly in terms of race, ethnicity, and nationality) schools that intentionally celebrated such diversity.  Graduate school has proved to be a different beast for me — at a Historically White College or University (HWCU), in a predominantly-white town, in a conservative state in the Midwest.

This self-doubt, a poison of which I am now painfully aware, is slowly draining out.  At the cusp of “Doctorhood,” I feel myself regaining some of the lost sense of empowerment.  I feel smarter.  I feel a bit braver.  But, it is not merely having the PhD that is returning me to my pre-graduate school sense of self.  Despite the promise to break you down to rebuild you, there is some extra beating-down that seems to occur for scholars from marginalized backgrounds, particularly if they come with activist-leanings.  So, some of this revival has been my own rejection of some of this professional socialization.  For my own survival, I have had to contextualize, distance myself from, or completely reject some of the values of (dominant, i.e., R1) academia.  It seems even Crystal has had to do some similar self-reflection to get to a better, healthier place in her career.

Concluding Thoughts

My take-away point is not to counter Crystal’s message, but rather to give a bit more context.  The dominant socialization processes, which contain values that are not completely relevant to or inclusive of members of marginalized groups, and that even devalue those groups, are enforced and reinforced systematically and through institutions.  We are bombarded with our simultaneous invisibility and hypervisibility as caricatures and stereotypes in media, in schools, in politics.  Even in academia — where “average” students of marginalized backgrounds are not being let in — our competence is questioned.  We must do the work to constantly reject these indignities, stereotypes, and hostilities; but, we (all of us) must change institutions that transmit these values and ideas, as well.  It may be time that we stop “beating” students, switching instead to a model of empowerment.  Just a thought.





Drive-By Bigotry

27 01 2013

On at least four occasions in my life, I have been the victim of what I will call “drive-by bigotry.”  Either because of my race, sexual identity, or weight, an anonymous person has shouted an insult or pejorative term from a moving car.  Beyond the cowardice underlying these acts of bigotry, other aspects of these events leave me somewhat puzzled.

Drive-By Fatphobia: “Run Fat Boy!”

Grollman - JROTC CampI spent the summer of 2002 training for the Cadet Officer Leadership Program to become an officer in the Junior ROTC at my high school.  I knew that I would have no trouble with the tasks that called for discipline, teamwork, and problem-solving.  But, I knew there would be no way I could run the 1.5 miles required for the physical portion of the camp.  So, I began running daily.  The distance from one end of the neighborhood to the other was just over 1.5 miles, which made it easier for me to gauge how far to run.  I also devoted energy to dieting and toning muscle.  Going from sedentary to daily runner, of course I lost quite a bit of weight.

But, despite the weight loss, I was once told, “run fat boy!” from a teenager in a car that passed me as I ran.  I shrugged the event off, but I could not understand why I was “fat boy” having reached what I would consider a medium size.  It also struck me as somewhat funny that, despite the stereotypes of plus-sized people, I was running up a steep hill, while the person who insulted me sat in a car.

Drive-By Homophobia: “Go Back to Massachusetts!”

Sometime in July 2005, I visited my sister in Northern Virginia.  It was an exciting time, for my sister — the first relative to whom I came out — was meeting my then-boyfriend.  We walked to a nearby store to purchase drinks for the night, interrupted momentarily to wait until it was safe to cross a busy intersection.  A turning car drove by us.  Inside: a man, woman, and two children in the back.  In unison, and almost in a gleeful, sing-song style, they all shouted, “go back to Massachusetts!”  All of us are from Maryland, and had never lived any further north of the Mason-Dixon line.  “Huh?”, we thought.

I surmised that their instruction was to return to Massachusetts, where same-gender marriage had been legalized just 2 years before.  But, how strange it seemed to assume that all lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) people lived in or were originally from Massachusetts.  And, nothing of our behavior or appearance led me to believe we should be assumed to be LGB, at least on a quick, passing inspection.  Further, I found it somewhat repulsive that these parents were not only demonstrating intolerance, but also encouraging their children to participate.

Drive-By Racism: “Nigger!” (2x)

Yes, at two times in my life, the passenger of a fast-moving car has shouted “nigger!” at me.

1) In 2008, toward the end of my first year of graduate school at Indiana University, I headed toward my car after hanging with a few friends.  The road was dark, but just a few feet from one of the city’s busy major roads.  (Since then, I have increasingly noticed how many streets are poorly lit in this town!)  A car sped by from behind, but going just slow enough for me to hear the racist pejorative shouted from a passenger in the backseat.  The old car, filled probably with four undergraduate students, stopped just feet away at a stop sign.  I froze momentarily, wondering whether to respond, attempt to memorize their license plate number, or go on letting the event roll off of my back.  I turned to look back at my friends to confirm that they heard it to, which they did.  I gave a look that conveyed, “yep, this is why I hate this town,” and got in my car to drive home.

2) One night during a one-month stay in Boston, MA in summer 2011, I walked with a friend toward his car.  We heard a car approaching with a rap song blaring out of the windows, the bass rattling everything nearby creating a mini earthquake.  “Niggers!”, the front-seat passenger shouted from his open window.  I caught a glimpse just of his arm dangling from the window — a young white man.

The combination of a white male listening to rap shouting a racist pejorative at us confused me.  Were they so caught up in “feeling” the music and the tough, violent lifestyle associated with rap that they “went too far” in appropriating Blackness?  For a moment, did they feel it was appropriate to use a term they saw as an endearing expression among Black people?  Or, do they hate Black people but love rap music?  I was further perplexed because my friend is white, though maybe tan enough to be mistaken as Black at 60mph at night.  Once we got in his car and had successfully changed the subject of conversation, another car approached slowly.  The passenger threw an egg, and the car sped off.  I am in no rush to visit Boston again.

Confuse Them To Death!

Is there some collective effort to confuse members of marginalized groups with these strange acts?  I know to, and constantly, prepare for acts of intolerance.  But, these occurrences leave me feeling more confused than insulted, attacked, or belittled.  Upon losing a significant amount of weight, I was told, “run fat boy!”  Despite the universal assumption that everyone is heterosexual (until proven otherwise), I was told to return to my home planet, Queertopia (Massachusetts).  Though I am ambiguously brown, and often assumed to be white, and in the darkness of night, at a high speed, I (while with 1-2 white people) was twice called, “nigger!” from a moving vehicle.  How could these people even tell I am a fat brown queer?  I have had people studying my face and behavior, while standing still, who had trouble discerning my racial and sexual identities.

Or, are people indiscriminately  hurling pejoratives out of their car windows, no matter the identities and statuses of their targets?  That would be even more perplexing to me!





[kinsey] Being On The “Down Low”: What Does It Mean?

8 01 2013

This was originally posted at Kinsey Confidential.

“Keep it on the down low.”  A few years ago, many knew this expression simply to mean that something should be kept secret or confidential.  This could refer to anything — a friend’s surprise birthday party, an embarrassing  accident, an affair.  Over the past decade, the use of the phrase “the down low” or “DL” has narrowed to refer to one thing: Black men who date women while secretly having sex with men.  But, this limited definition misses much of the diversity and complexity of life on the down low, and sexuality in general.

“Down Low”

In general, keeping something on the down low means keeping it a secret.  But, some suggest that the expression originates among Black communities in the US to refer specifically to secret relationships, including infidelity or extramarital affairs in heterosexual relationships.  However, one particular use of the term — men in heterosexual relationships who secretly have sex with men — was forced into the national spotlight.

Many people, regardless of race and ethnicity, gender, and social class hide from others that they are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender, have sexual and romantic relationships with members of their own gender, and/or experience desire for such relationships.  In large part, this is due to fear of homophobic, biphobic, and transphobic violence, discrimination, prejudice, and rejection from friends and family.

Hiding one’s sexual or gender identity is ofter referred to as being “in the closet.“  So, how is being on the “down low” different?  And, why have down low or DL men received so much attention over the past decade?

Scapegoats?

Hiding one’s non-heterosexual sexual identity, relationships, or desires, and the bias against these components of sexuality, are obviously not new phenomena.  But, shortly after the new millennium began, men who have sexual relationships with men — particularly those who also have sexual and romantic relationships with women — became the focus of discussions about the high rates of HIV among Black Americans.

Many celebrities (even Oprah!), politicians, and activists concerned about the HIV epidemic among Black people in the US began pointing to these men as a potential source for the staggeringly high rates of new HIV cases among (heterosexual) Black women.  The logic became that some men in heterosexual relationships were secretly having sex with men, and doing so without using condoms to reduce their risk of HIV and other sexually transmitted infections (STI).

Essentially, Black DL men were thought to be a “bridge” for bringing the high risk for HIV among men who have sex with men to heterosexual relationships.  However, researchers have found little evidence to support this proposal.  But this myth has persisted.  Why?

One possibility is that homophobic and biphobic prejudice has allowed down low men to serve as scapegoats, an easy target to lay blame for HIV rates among Black women.  Unlike “out” gay and bisexual men, hostility toward DL men is seen as justifiable because they are deceitful, intentionally lying to their female partners.  In fact, the disdain toward men on the down low spread beyond concerns about risk for HIV and STIs to general suspicion: “how to find out if your husband is on the down low“, “how to tell if a man is on the DL.”

The Role Of Race And Racism

As I noted earlier, feeling or actually being forced to hide one’s same-gender sexuality — whether identity, relationships, or desires — is experienced by many.  And, being on the down low is also not limited to Black men.  In a recent study published in Deviant Behavior, sociologists Brandon Robinson and Salvador Vidal-Ortiz found use of the term down low, or even identifying as DL, was just as common among white men as it was among Black men using Craigslist.com for casual sexual encounters with other men.  Another sociologist, Jane Ward, has also studied postings on Craigslist, specifically looking at white men who identify as “str8 dudes” or “str8.”

So, why have Black men been singled out?  Some have argued that Black men on the down low are simply the most recent victim of a long history of demonizing or pathologizing Black sexuality.  That is, somehow the sex lives of Black DL men are more deceitful, immoral, and risky (i.e., HIV risk) than those of exclusively-heterosexual Black men and DL men of other races.  And, they understandably face greater pressure to hide their “true” sexualities because Black communities in the US are stereotyped as more hostile toward lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people.

“True” Sexuality?

Are men on the down low really just gay and bisexual men who are in the closet?  Yes, in the sense that they hide some aspect of their same-gender sexuality.  However, no, there is a great deal more diversity and complexity than most discussions of the down low assume.  While some identify as bisexual (or even gay), many identify as heterosexual; also, some do not claim a particular sexual identity, while others actually identify as DL.  Also, as found in a recent study of DL men in New York City, their defining characteristic is hiding their same-gender sexuality from their female partners, yet some are “out” as DL (or gay or bisexual) to friends and family.

This diversity is missed, in large part, because the complexity of sexuality is overlooked.  In particular, one’s sexual identity is conflated with one’s sexual behavior is conflated with one’s sexual desires.  Whether for men on the down low, other people in the closet, out lesbian, gay, and bisexual people, or heterosexuals, these dimensions — identity, desire, and behavior — are related, yet distinct.  These dimensions tend to align for the majority of adults, but there is a sizable minority for whom these dimensions do not appear congruent nor permanently fixed.

Sexuality Is Complex

Focusing on the sexual practices of Black men on the down low is shortsighted, missing the complexity of sexuality and the great deal of sexual diversity in America.  Even for these men, such a narrow focus misses other important aspects of their lives and well-being, including poverty, prejudice and discrimination, limited access to quality health care, and so forth.

It is crucial for our understanding of sexuality and sexual health that we pay attention to other important dimensions, namely race and ethnicity, gender, and social class. In addition, we must consider how various social factors shape and constrain our sexualities.  This will help to move beyond a focus only on individuals’ actions while ignoring the limitations, constraints, and disadvantages they face.





[kinsey] Who Are Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) Americans?

5 11 2012

LGBT Americans.

This was originally posted at Kinsey Confidential.

Over the past few years, we have been hearing new estimates of the number of adults in the United States who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender.  It seems the number came down from the 10 percent figure from the work of Alfred Kinsey, to 8 percent with the National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior, to 3.8 percent in a report from the Williams Institute (UCLA).  The latest estimate from a Gallup poll last month suggests that 3.4 percent of Americans identify as LGBT.

Only 3.4 Percent?!

The size of a minority group — in this case, LGBT people — is important for numerous political and social reasons.  So, it is understandable that some were initially panicked when the commonly-cited figure of “one-in-ten” seemed to drop to a low of 3-4 percent.

Why was there such a drop in estimates of the size of the LGBT population in the US?  The primary reason for what appears to be a drop is how we have counted LGBT people.  When Dr. Kinsey conducted his major studies in the 1940s-1950s on the sexual behaviors of women and men in America, he asked them about sexual encounters with individuals of their same gender.  In fact, when measured this way, even 2008 estimates come close to 10 percent of adults who have engaged in same-gender sexuality.  But, the majority of those adults identify as heterosexual — that is because, while they are related, sexual behavior, sexual orientation, and sexual identity are distinct aspects of our lives.

In addition, as Indiana University professor Brian Powell points out, these are estimates — 3.4 percent — of those who are “out,” or at least willing to tell a researcher that they are LGBT.

You may be thinking, “3.4 percent?  That’s pretty small no matter how you measure it!”  Generously rounding to 4 percent, that is the equivalent of one LGBT person in every twenty-five people.  At approximately ten million people of the 315 million people in the US, that places the size of the LGBT population between the state populations of Michigan (9.8 million) and Ohio (11.7 million).

Who Are LGBT People?

There has been a great deal of attention over the past decade on the relationships and families of LGBT people.  But, since researchers are just now beginning to collect national data on sexual identity, we know still do not know a great deal about who LGBT people are.  With recent research, including last month’s Gallup/Williams Institute poll, we can begin painting a picture of the sociodemographic and political profile of LGBT Americans:

  • Race:  There is notable racial and ethnic diversity among LGBT people, with 3.2 percent of white Americans identifying as LGBT, while over 4 percent of Black, Latina/o, and Asian American adults self-identify as LGBT.  As the report suggests, “Overall, a third of LGBT-identifiers are nonwhite (33 percent), compared with 27 percent of non-LGBT individuals.”
  • Gender:  There is a slightly larger percentage of women (3.6 percent) who identify as LGBT, compared to men (3.3 percent).
  • Age:  LGBT identification appears to be skewed toward younger populations, with slightly more than six percent of 18-29 year olds identifying as LGBT, compared 30-49 year olds (3.2 percent), 50-64 year olds (2.6 percent), and adults 65 and older (1.9 percent).
  • Socioeconomic Status:  Contrary to the stereotype of wealthy LGBT people (gay men, in particular), the greatest percentage of LGBT adults has completed only some college (but no degree), followed by having a high school diploma or less education.  Also, LGBT people are skewed toward lower levels of income ($60,000 or less, but especially under $24,000).
  • Relationship Status:  About 20 percent of LGBT people report that they are married, and 18 percent are either in a domestic partnership or living with a partner, while 48 percent are currently single.  This compares to 54 percent of heterosexuals who are married, and 23 percent who are single.
  • Parental Status: Equal percentages of heterosexual and LGBT women have children under the age of 18 (32 percent for each).  But, 16 percent of LGBT men have young children in the home compared to 31 percent of heterosexual men.  Interestingly, Latina/o, Black, and Asian American LGBT adults are more likely than white LGBT individuals to be parents.
  • Region: LGBT people make-up similar percentages of each region of the country, though the numbers are slightly higher for the East (3.7 percent) and West (3.6 percent) coasts, compared to the South (3.2 percent) and Midwest (3.4 percent).  Indeed, LGBT people and same-gender couples live in just about every part of the country.
  • Political Views: LGBT Americans are generally more liberal, and more likely to identify as (or at least with) the Democratic political party, than heterosexuals.  Also, the majority favor President Barack Obama over presidential contender Mitt Romney, while heterosexuals appear more evenly split between the candidates.

Beyond Sexual Identity

The biggest caveat for these results is that LGBT adults were examined as a singular group, so we do not know how these characteristics vary among lesbian women, bisexual women and men, and gay men.  And, more importantly, the unique profile and experiences of transgender people cannot be distinguished, either.

Also, while LGBT people differ somewhat from the general, predominantly-heterosexual (and cisgender) population, they are not a homogenous group.  There is a great deal of diversity within LGBT communities, namely in terms of race and ethnicity, gender identity and expression, social class, relationship and family structure, and so forth.  As such, it is important to think about the many identities and statuses individuals LGBT hold — not just sexual and gender identity.  For example, in pushing for greater visibility, support, and equality for LGBT families, it is crucial to acknowledge that LGBT people of color and LGBT women are more likely to have kids, and face the additional burdens of racial and gender inequality.  LGBT families are just as much an LGBT issue as they are about race, ethnicity, gender, class, immigration, etc.

As I concluded in my last post on the size of the LGBT population, we still need more research to capture the profile and experiences of LGBT people in the US and worldwide.  Indeed, sexual and gender identities are a core part of who we are as people — not just in the bedroom, or in our private lives, but also for our experiences in and view of the world!





[kinsey] Chaz Bono Visits Indiana University (and the Kinsey Institute!)

8 10 2012

Chaz Bono visits Indiana University.

This was originally posted at Kinsey Confidential.

Over five years ago, I made my way to Indiana University for graduate school, largely because I knew about the Kinsey Institute and the strong community of sexuality scholars and advocates.  And, each year, those same things, including IU Sexploration Week, bring some of the nation’s biggest names in activism and research on sexuality from Dan Savage to Jessica Valenti.

This year, Chaz Bono – LGBT activist, author, and former Dancing With The Stars contestantvisited IU, the Kinsey Institute, and gave a talk on his life as a transgender man.  His visit was a part of both IU’s fifth annual Sexploration Week and the IU Themester on “Good Behavior, Bad Behavior: From Molecules to Morality.”

Chaz’s talk about his life, including the criticism (including death threats!) he has faced upon becoming the most famous transgender person in the US today, and his highly-publicized struggles with drug abuse, fits well in the 2012 Themester, which asks, “When is behavior good, or bad?”

Chaz Bono: “How I Became A Man”

The core of Chaz’s talk was on coming out as transgender, and undergoing the process of transitioning to make his sex assigned at birth (female) congruent with his gender identity (man).  Like his book, Transition: The Story of How I Became a Man, he shared personal details of his life, including drug addition, first coming out as a lesbian and then as a (heterosexual) transman, and his evolving relationships with his family.

From his earliest memories, he resisted the pressure from family and society to act feminine and to be feminine, though he journeyed a long road before he could define and embrace his identity as a man.  His visibility and increasing celebrity status has allowed many people in the US to put a face to an identity and experience they knew little about before.

A Sociologist’s Take

I enjoyed hearing about Chaz’s journey, and appreciate that his talk was a featured event at Indiana University.  The warm reception of Chaz Bono into the limelight demonstrates just far we have come in achieving visibility and equal rights for transgender people in the US.  Unfortunately, the hostility Chaz has faced, and the obsession with his transition, body, and relationships, also show just how much more work remains to eliminate transphobia.

It is important to remember, however, that there is great diversity among transgender people in terms of gender identity and gender expression, for some transpeople decide not (or are unable) to transition.  Many transpeople embrace a fluid or “queer” expression of gender that is neither masculine nor feminine, or may be some combination of both.  Also, transgender communities are diverse in terms of race, ethnicity, nationality, class, sexual identity, ability, and body size and shape.  Indeed, the experiences of transpeople of color and those who are working-class or poor may be somewhat different from those of Chaz.

But, I stress that there is so much to learn from Chaz Bono’s life and experiences, and his openness and visibility will continue to help to raise awareness about the lives of transpeople.  In addition to learning more about Chaz Bono, be sure to check out the open Kinsey Institute exhibit, “Gender Expressions,” before it ends on December 20th!

 





Today Is The Trevor Project Day (National Suicide Prevention Month)

27 09 2012
Talk to Me

Things will get better!

September 2012 has been National Suicide Prevention Month.  Suicide remains a critical social and public health issue.  But, findings from a new study indicate that suicide now takes more lives each year than car accidents.  And, for some segments of the country — especially lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) youth — the need to address suicide and the factors that influence mental illness and suicidality remains urgent.

Today, September 27th, is being celebrated as The Trevor Project Day.  The Trevor Project serves as a national suicide prevention organization, especially for LGBT youth.  Trevor is promoting a campaign – Talk To Me – to encourage all people to reach out to others who may be struggling.  The Executive Director/CEO of the Trevor Project, Abbe Land, provided a nice description of the campaign at Huffington Post:

Saying “talk to me” to a friend can spark conversations that encourage positive help-seeking behaviors by letting a friend know that you care about them and are willing to listen without judgment. Once a conversation is started, that bond of trust presents an opportunity to connect a friend in crisis to life-affirming resources. In short, with just three simple words, “talk to me,” each one of us can potentially help save a life.

“Talk to me” is a universal message that applies to people of all ages and backgrounds, including parents, students, faith leaders, childcare providers, teachers, co-workers, and family members. It is crucial that we come together and let those in crisis know that they are not alone. During National Suicide Prevention Month, vow to be someone who is ready to listen without judgment and connect a friend or family member with supportive resources if they are ever in crisis.

Trevor has also made a nice video, that tugs just a little at your heart strings, to convey the importance of talking to others and letting them know they are not alone:

Talk To Me

Unfortunately, the darkness of social isolation and self-hatred are familiar memories of my youth before coming out, developing a sense of pride as a queer person, and gaining my family’s acceptance.  So, campaigns like this one, and the It Gets Better Campaign speak right to me.  (I’ve written a bit on them here and here.)  The message I typically try to convey is one of hope: things will get better!  But, with the spin of empowering oneself to make things better.  For example, as much as I love the It Gets Better Campaign, I share others’ concern that we should emphasize that “it gets better” with action, that things don’t magically get better while you wait.  In my opinion, hopelessness is a major culprit in the depression and low self-worth that people who are considering suicide feel.  Things have gotten so bad that there is no hope for improvement, nor hope for the future.  So, I add to my message of hope, “and, you have the power to make them better!”

But, in line with the Talk To Me campaign, it is important to remember that the support and encouragement of others is crucial.  In fact, it is hostility, bullying, avoidance, discrimination, and so forth that contribute to the depression and suicidality that LGBT youth face.  It takes feeling seen, heard, validated, loved, valued, and accepted to be empowered and maintain high self-esteem.  And, as emphasized by this campaign, the smallest gestures can make a world of difference in the day of a struggling, depressed person.  (I often stand on my soapbox about the importance of random acts of kindness, or really just being polite and respectful to every person you encounter, because you just don’t know how much good you may do for other people.)

Talk To MeS

MeS — plural.  While many LGBT youth struggle with depression, low self-esteem, suicidality, and problems with their peers, not all do.  So, it is important to be aware, but not to assume, and especially not to stereotype, every LGBT youth as suicidal.  Further, one point I often emphasize, is that there are other important identities that we hold.  The struggles faced by white LGBT youth may overlap with, but are not identical to those of Black and other LGBT youth of color.  In fact, in some ways, LGBT youth of color may face additional challenges not experienced by their white LGBT peers.  It is important to consider the intersections among sexual identity, gender, race and ethnicity, nationality, social class, body shape and size, religion, ability, and so forth.  It is our challenge, then, to be aware that there is no one universal set of experiences and, as such, there is no one universal solution; but, we must not be deterred from reaching out to every person to remind them of their worth and significance as a person no matter their background.