Being proud

June is nearly over, and with that Pride month comes to an end. I've only written one thing on it so far, and there are various reasons for that which I won't really get into. Evan Edinger recently released a video about Pride month talking about how he isn't proud of his sexuality because it isn't something that he's accomplished, much like how he isn't proud of his height. And while I understand what he's trying to say and do, I kinda disagree. People in the queer community are often the targets of hate and discrimination, much like all minorities, and we must stand up in the face of that hate. And the easiest way to stand up to hate, is to be proud of who you are. So, to Evan, I say this: we need to be proud of who we are, even if we're being proud of something we were born with.

There are a lot of times that I'm scared of being myself, but Pride always gives me a relatively safe space to be myself. I am proud of who I am, but life is a continuous journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance, and I haven't fully accepted all that I am yet. As a non-binary person, I'm not 100% certain how I want to express that, so it's not something that I showcase in my daily life, and possibly it's not something that those close to me even remember or think about. I know I've asked on my twitter for people to use gender neutral pronouns when referencing me, but I have no way of knowing if anyone actually does. It's not like I hear them talking about me to other people, so unless people outright tell me, I have no clue and I'm too 'scared' to ask. By scared, I just mean that I don't want to annoy people by asking them if they're using my preferred pronouns. Which is fucked up. It's my gender, I should be comfortable with asking people to use my pronouns, unless subconsciously I'm not comfortable with my own gender yet. But that's a whole other story for another day.

Pride is a time to be proud of who we are as the queer community. To be proud of everything that we have accomplished, and everything we have survived. It is my personal belief that we, as members of the queer community, should be proud of our sexualities and genders. We have to be, so that future generations can look at us, see all that we've overcame, and see that we can still smile.

Remember, none of us are ever alone. We are a community. We are a family. And we are proud.

not the hero

A few weeks ago a friend of mine told me that while they were getting a tattoo, they and their artist exchanged racist jokes about First Nations people. My friend, like myself, is white. When they told me this I was at a pretty low spot and I just wanted to talk to someone about my issues, so I was selfish and I didn't say anything. I let the racism slide, because I didn't want to deal with it, and to be blunt, it had nothing to do with me. I consider myself to be an activist regarding queer issues, and most other things, but that night I was tired, so I didn't do a damn thing.
When I told a mutual friend about that night, they got very upset with me for not saying anything. I made a lot of excuses for as to why I didn't say anything, but they all basically boiled down to: "I was tired and selfish." The mutual friend is First Nations and queer, they deal with way more than I do every single day. Every day is fight for them regarding every aspect of their being. For me? If I get too tired to fight, I can just stop and not worry because I look like a straight white male. And that night, I acted like one. I allowed my white privilege to take over my morals, simply because I was selfish.
And then I made excuses for my behaviour. Everyday that I don't get attacked for my race shows my privilege, and I grew complacent. I stopped caring about all the fights, and only focused on the ones that affect me. But that's not how activism works. I can't fight for equality and acceptance if I'm not fighting for true equality and acceptance for all. I can't fight for my equality if I'm leaving others behind.
I made a mistake that night, willfully, and through that I damaged a friendship that I cherish. On top of all of that, I never even told the person what was bothering me, so it was all for literally nothing.
Everyday is a fight for someone, so everyday I should be fighting.
As a white person, I must do better.
As a queer person, I must do better.
As a friend, I must do better.
Nothing I do can change the fact that I didn't say anything that night. All I can do is make sure that it does not happen again. 

#NationalComingOutDay

                Today is National Coming Out Day! Which can be a very exciting time for those who come out today! And for those of us who have already, it is a day to celebrate with others. I’ve written before about the amazing freedom that comes with coming out, and I’ve written about the perils as well.

                I didn’t come out on National Coming Out Day, I came out on my own terms and at my own time. I was planning on coming out as non-binary today, but I couldn’t keep that to myself any longer, so I did it at an earlier date. And that’s kinda what I want to talk about. Not me or my coming out, but coming out in general.

                Today could be the day you come out. Maybe the feeling of comradery and solidarity is what you needed to be able to come out. And that’s awesome! But, the main thing you need to be before coming out is ready. This can mean multiple things! It can mean that you know you’ll be safe, that you’re comfortable with telling people, and that you want to do it.

                Never come out because of a day on the calendar. Don’t do it to be part of the hashtag. Do it for yourself. Do it because you’re ready. And do it because you want to. Coming out is possibly the most personal thing you will do, and could even be the most important. So do not rush it. Don’t be pressured into it. Do it for yourself, on your time!

                And don’t come out as an ally. Today isn’t for that. I mean, sure, congrats on being a decent human being who supports equal rights, but don’t use today for that.  

Possible Triggers

                “Hey man.”

                “Hey.”

                “How’s it going?”

                “S’alright, yeah. You?”

                “Decent. You hear about Jenny?”

                “What? Jenny, isn’t she that girl we have calculus with?”

                “Yeah, Dave saw her making out with Denise. You know what that means!”

                “What are you talking about?”

                “Dude, there are lesbians. In our class. They’re gonna make out and shit and we can watch!”

                “That’s not how that works. Maybe you should just give them space. Obviously they don’t want people to know.”

                “Fuck that, what’s your problem? They’re hot. Don’t you want to watch?”

                “They’re people. It’s their life, they aren’t doing it for you to watch.”

                “Whatever, you gay or something? Maybe they’ll let me join in.”

                “I’m pretty sure they don’t want you to ‘join in’.”

                “Maybe not at first, but once I get started they’ll love it.”

                “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

                “What?”

                “Guy, that’s rape. You can’t do that.”

                “Jesus, man, they’re just some dykes. They don’t know what they’re missing. They’ll like it.”

                “No, that’s not allowed. That’s straight up rape man. You’re talking about raping two people!”

                “Chill out, it’s fine. God, people get so worked up these days. Can’t I just have some fun with these two? They’ll like it, all women like dick once they try it.”

                “Listen, you gotta shut up about this. You can’t say these things.”

                “Fuck off, pussy.”

                “Hey, Jenny? Do you have a sec?”

                “Um, hi, do I know you?”

                “Not really, we have calculus together. Listen, you know John?”

                “The football douche? No offense if he’s you’re friend.”

                “No, he’s a douche. His friend Dave saw you and Denise—“

                “What did he say? What do you want?”

                “No, it’s nothing like that. Not really. I just want to let you know. John’s gonna tell people. And…”

                “And what?”

                “He wants to sleep with you and Denise and it doesn’t matter to him if you guys say yes… He thinks all women are straight no matter what.”

                “Are…are you serious?”

                “Yeah.”

                “He told you that?”

                “Yeah. Called me gay when I told him that was wrong. Listen, I don’t know what you can do, but just be careful.”

                “Hey, thanks for letting me know.”

                “Yeah.”

                Things like this are a sad reality to those in the queer community. This specific kind of rape even has a name: corrective rape. It happens when straight people, men and women, rape a gay, bi, pan, ace, trans, person in the attempt to “show them the error in their ways”. Lesbians and asexual people are at a high risk for this. Lesbians because of how over-sexualized they are in media, and asexual people because of they are often viewed as prudish, religious, or broken. Many people think that if they have heterosexual sex with people, they will “fix” them and turn them straight.

                This mindset is brought on by religion, society, and the media. Everywhere one looks, straight couples are shown as the normal, as the correct thing. It is with this environment that corrective rape came to being. This is why queer people call out for better representation in the media. This is why it is important for corporations to listen. And yet straight people will get upset. “They can’t be gay”, “Dude, they’re straight. Not everyone is gay”. That’s the problem. No one is gay in the media. Star Wars is thinking of adding its first gay character, and people are outraged. Why? The franchise is about space wizards with laser swords. Why the fuck can’t some of them be gay? This past year, the CW had several gay, lesbian, and bi characters. They killed off all the lesbians. Why? The death of other characters would’ve been just as shocking and impactful. But the lesbians aren’t as important as the straight characters. They’re seen as lesser. And with this attitude, corrective rape grows. Every time queer characters are treated as novelties, it dehumanizes them. And whenever something is dehumanized in the media, it leaks into real life. Look at war time propaganda, the Japanese were shown as soulless monsters who wanted to eat children, and that racism has held over. It wasn’t true, it was just propaganda. That’s today’s media though, everything has a message and a hidden meaning. Everything we watch is pushing something or someone. As we move closer to true equality, our media poisons that idea in secret.

                The sad thing is, allies get drawn into this trap as well. They support the queer community, but heaven forbid that they’re favourite characters come out as gay. Heaven forbid someone ships two male characters together.

                When only straight is seen as right and correct, corrective rape grows. That is why hate crimes against the queer community rarely get punished. That is why so many people still think it’s okay to use gay as an insult. That’s why it’s still okay to mock other genders and insult people by calling them another gender. Because we’ve been dehumanized for so long, we’ve become passive towards it. We begin to think that maybe we are overreacting, and we allow the thoughts to grow and fester until it overwhelms us. Even members of the queer community take part in the dehumanization. From telling certain groups that they aren’t gay enough to be a part, to outright saying some members don’t exist.

                Until we stand together as one community—a community with many parts yes, but working together!—, we won’t be able to achieve our goals of acceptance and equality. For if we do not treat each other with equality and acceptance, why would the rest of the world?   

For Orlando

                Yesterday, tragedy struck the queer community. A lone gunman walked into a gay bar in Orlando, Florida, and committed the largest mass shooting and hate crime in American history. With his legally obtained assault rifle, he opened fire and killed 50 people, severely injuring 53 more. That morning 103 families were woken up to some of the worst news imaginable.

                The pain those families are going through is unimaginable, and the knowledge that their children died because of hate must only make it worse. I’ve always considered the queer community to be a family, because we are, and the news devastated me. I don’t know any of the victims, but yesterday I wept for hours because my family lost 50 brothers. I felt their deaths in my heart, and I wept. I could barely focus, and with each new piece of information, with each new tweet or message of support, my sorrow grew. I was heartened by the love and support I was seeing, but for each message of support there dozens of messages purporting hate. Fundamentalists saying that if “those people” weren’t gay it wouldn’t have happened! Racists coming out of everywhere shouting to get the Muslims out of their country. With each passing hour each side grew in numbers. To top it off, news agencies weren’t even calling it a gay bar. They were trying to downplay the hate crime and make it all about the shooter.

                The shooter doesn’t matter in this narrative, what matters is the people who were lost. Good men with families and friends and lovers. The incalculable number of people who were hurt by the hate. The brave people who went out to the vigils last night. The queer people, who with renewed fear in their hearts, stood proudly in the face of this hate and went out. The people who spent all day yesterday getting any and all information out. And most of all, the victims.

                This attack would be vile anytime of year, but the fact that it happened during pride month, a time when the queer community celebrates and feels safe, makes it all the worse. I was at a pride event on Saturday. I was on a euphoric high all day, and I woke Sunday still feeling the love! And then I saw the news. The transition was jarring. I got angry first. I lashed out at those responsible for the hate. I lashed out at the antiquated gun laws that allowed this to happen. Then I got bitter. And then, finally, I mourned for the loss of those 50 brothers I never got a chance to meet. I sat and wept, quietly and privately, for an hour or so. And then I acted. I spoke about the attack. I shared information. In the end, whatever contributions I made were small, but I did what my situation allowed me to do to help. To everyone who thinks that they did not do enough yesterday, so long as you spread love and support, not hate and bile, you did enough. If you made it through the day, you did enough.

                To the families of the victims, I cannot express my sympathy and empathy. I cannot imagine the loss you are feeling right now. You have my love.

                To the queer community, we are shaken right now. But we showed the world that we can endure horrific acts of hate without turning to violence. We showed the world that no matter what they do to us, we will still stand strong with our family. That we will continue to love and live. We showed the world that we are a family.

                I will continue to mourn the loss of my brothers, and I will live for them. I will go out with a renewed vigor and purpose. I will stand and speak for those who cannot. I will not forget this vicious attack on our family, but I will not react in violence, I will react in love. And I will continue to act in love so long as I live.

                Stay strong. Stay safe.

                All my love. 

The Perils of Coming Out

      Let's talk about coming out. I'm not telling you my coming out story again, I mean let's talk about the emotions and reservations, and fears and hopes that people have with their coming out. Because there is a lot of stuff going on behind the scenes with coming out. There's a lot that doesn't necessarily get talked about. So, let's talk about it.
      Coming out is an emotional experience, no matter how it is received by the people around you. If the reaction is positive, you're on cloud nine! You're feeling the love that is surrounding you, and you're getting beautiful messages of support. If the reaction is negative, the feelings become mixed. You're feeling free because you get to be yourself now! but at the same time, you're wondering if you should've waited because now people aren't talking to you, your family could hate you now, and you could be genuinely frightened for your life. All those negative feelings are magnified if you come out as a teen. You've got your classmates to worry about, teachers to worry about, family, friends, society. And if you live in certain parts of the world, families are legally allowed to disown you, forcing you onto the street. There is a frightening statistic out of the States, that 25% of homeless youth there are queer, and the majority of that 25% are homeless because they came out to their parents/guardians and got kicked out.
       As a queer person, thinking about coming out, you know all the horror stories. You have friends who came out to a negative response. You know the numbers of queer people with depression and suicidal thoughts. You know the community faces persecution from almost all sectors of society. You know that the persecution doesn't just come from religious fundamentalists, but that it can come from everyone no matter what they believe. And you know that no matter what country you live in, you can face hatred and violence for just being the person you were born as.
      So why come out? What makes the risks worth it?
      The freedom. As a queer person, we've learned to lie to everyone around us. We've learned to hide our true nature. We wear so many different masks on a given day, that we can lose ourselves, and we do this just to stay safe. Coming out allows us to take these masks off. It allows us to be ourselves all of the time, instead of just in our homes and with close friends. We look at all of the risks, we know that they could happen to us, but we know what we get when we finally come out: freedom to be true to ourselves. Groups throughout history have fought for freedom time and time again. People have sacrificed their lives for freedom. People willingly die for a chance to be free. And that's why we come out, even in the face of hardship, pain, banishment, and death. We come out for freedom.
       Even with knowing why we're doing it, it's still a scary thing. It can take days to build up the courage to tell that first person, even after deciding that it is time. For me, I told people through text because I was too scared to come out in person in case the person reacted negatively. I talk about it in my vlogs a lot, but again that's not really in person. I can't have a conversation about it in real time. I'm in this weird limbo with my coming out, I'm out in the most public way possible (hello YouTube and blogs), yet I have no idea if the people I see everyday have any idea that I'm not straight. So I'm out, openly, but do people actually know? Because of this ambiguity I'm still living like I'm half in the closet. I'm out, but. I've got my freedom, but. I still get uncomfortable speaking to people face to face about it, because with each new person the fears become fresh and relevant again.
       Coming out is a daunting prospect, and it's something that we shouldn't really need to worry about anymore, but it seems like it's becoming something that we need to worry more and more about with each passing year. I mean, North Carolina just passed possibly the most homophobic and transphobic law in modern times! And NC is in the country that literally prides itself on freedom! Instead of being something that you can feel comfortable with, coming out has become something you need to think about and plan. You need to time it. You have to be careful with it. And most importantly, you have to feel safe about it. Which sounds ridiculous! We need to feel safe to tell someone that we life a different gender(s/no gender) than what is societally expected of us!
        Straight people, even allies, can never fully understand how daunting it is to come out. They've never had to worry about it, because they're straight, and religions and culture constantly tell the world that being straight is right. Being something other than straight is just wrong and something to be fixed. That's why gay conversion therapies still exist, even in Canada.
       But, god, it feels so good when you finally come out. When you finally can be honest. That freedom feels so good, even when it paints a target on your back. Being able to walk out your front door, 100% you, is an amazing feeling. And that's why coming out is worth the risk. A life hiding, is not a real life at all.