Sometimes blogging is hard, particularly when juggling a full-time PhD, paid (and unpaid) work, and voluntary positions on associations. Often Context Junky ends up at the bottom of the list, which is a shame because it means I miss out on contributing to things like New Cardigan’s GLAM Blog Club.

The topic for July was identity. I wanted to write this post given some of the current debates happening in Australia, so I’m joining in a few weeks late. (As June’s theme was fear, maybe it’s just FOMO.)

I’m a privileged white, able-bodied, highly-educated, middle class cisgender male living in inner city Melbourne. I’m also queer, which doesn’t negate that privilege so much as complicate it a little.

Let’s take a few steps back and talk acronyms. In the marriage equality debate people have no doubt seen a lot thrown around. LGBT, LGBTI, LGBTQ, and so on. The longest I’ve seen is LGBTTTQQIA – lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, two-spirited, queer, questioning, intersex, asexual – and the easiest to remember is QUILTBAG, while the one I usually default to is LGBTIQA+.

The ‘Q’ in these acronyms generally refers to queer, which in itself is a complex term. Sometimes it’s used as a synonym for gay, or an umbrella term for LGBTIQA+ communities. Others, particularly in gay and lesbian communities, see it as offensive slang and push back on efforts to reclaim the term. And some (like me) see it as a useful identifier emerging from queer theory.

I didn’t start out identifying as queer. I went through a questioning phase in my teens, and came out as gay aged 17. Through my twenties and early thirties I was in a long-term relationship with a man, and if anyone asked me I identified as gay. Then I spent a bunch of years happily single, and found over time that the term ‘queer’ was a better fit. Now I’m in a relationship with a cisgender woman and still identify as queer.

(For a comparable story from another perspective, see this comic by the wonderful Erica Moen. If you like Erica’s work, her regular comic Oh Joy Sex Toy! [NSFW] is fun and educational for people of all genders and sexualities.)

That last bit is important, though it can be difficult for some people to understand. When I was younger, people talked about the need to ‘pick a side’. You were ‘batting for the other team.’ Those who went from dating a man to dating a woman, or vice versa, had ‘turned.’ The only other option in widespread use at the time was the ‘B’ in LGBT (bisexuality; or perhaps the Babadook), which was not only a position marginalised in the gay community, but also encoded the idea of two fixed genders. As do all these ideas about teams and sides. Binary, binary, binary.

The term ‘queer’ functions somewhat differently. It means ‘not heterosexual/straight,’ but doesn’t assume the gender identity or expression of past, present, or future partners; it moves away from binary notions of sexuality and gender; and, for at least some of us, it signifies a resistance against attempts to ignore or erase difference and nonconformity.

As a topical example, take marriage equality. Philosophically, I am not a supporter of marriage equality (or marriage in general) because I believe it perpetuates an old-fashioned institution with little relevance to many people in the modern world. Furthermore, some of the arguments in favour of marriage equality (let alone those against), set up a long-term state-recognised relationship between two people as the ideal, with other types of relationship and other families viewed as somehow lesser. In doing so, some of these arguments in favour of marriage equality are, by implication, critiquing single parents, life-long de facto relationships, polyamorous and polygamous relationships, and so on.

The legally recognised union of two people, excluding all others, for life (or until divorce) is an inherently conservative social construct regardless of the gender of the people involved. As scholar and queer theorist Annamarie Jagose writes: “why should marriage continue in the 21st century to be a primary mechanism for the distribution of social recognition and privilege?”

I said I am philosophically opposed to marriage, including marriage equality, for social and political reasons. That doesn’t mean I am critical of people who want to marry, provided they don’t see their relationship as somehow more valid or significant than others as a result.

Plus, given the current political mess we find ourselves in, I will be voting ‘Yes’ on the upcoming postal plebiscite (assuming it goes ahead), and urge you to do the same. Not because I believe in the process (which stinks), or feel any personal investment in the outcome, but so we can move on.

LGBTIQA+ people, particularly young people, are victims of bullying, teasing, harassment, and physical violence. Parts of our community have higher rates of depression, substance abuse, suicide, and homelessness than the general population. Findings in the recent report on sexual harassment and assaults in Australian universities, which are awful across the board, are particularly alarming when it comes to trans and gender-diverse students. Domestic violence in LGBTIQ+ relationships needs to be discussed more openly. Internationally, at least 73 countries have anti-LGBT laws – including the death penalty – with recent ‘purges’ in Chechnya providing a graphic example of the extreme homophobia which exists in the world.

Yes, marriage equality may contribute in some small way to a broader shift in attitudes; but it’s far from a panacea, and still excludes many people and family groups in society. It also takes up seemingly-endless column inches, opinion pieces, blogs, news reports, and political debates when there are so many other issues that need attention. Let’s just get it done.

In terms of my queer identity, I am opposed to the homogenising impulse that seems to drive some calls for tolerance and acceptance. Acceptance of queer people should not be premised on the idea that ‘really they are just like you.’ Learn to appreciate difference and accept people no matter how different they are. Embrace complexity.

And, while I recognise the political expediency that drove the ‘born this way’ movement, we need to move away from this as a criteria for combating discrimination. If someone does have a choice and chooses to be queer, or to enter a non-heterosexual relationship, that provides no more justification for homophobia than if someone believes they were born gay and never wavers from that belief.

But I digress. Returning to where I started, I said that being queer complicates my privilege, rather than negating it. I know what it’s like to hide my sexuality for fear of discrimination (or just social awkwardness), understand the feeling of visibility that comes with walking down the street holding the hand of another man, and know what it’s like to be hyper-conscious when a conversation with strangers moves into the area of partners and relationships. Is this a time to be honest; to be brave; or to conceal? Sometimes it depends on the audience. Sometimes, to be honest, it just depends on whether you can be bothered. For those who have never been through it, again and again, know that coming out fatigue is a thing.

But apart from that, I’ve been lucky in that I’ve only been subjected to some sneers and occasional shouts of abuse in the street. I’ve had friends who have had it a lot worse. Sexually harassed or assaulted by men; kicked out of home by religious parents; bashed by strangers in the street for the way they act, or punched for the way they talk; driven out of personal and professional networks by prejudice and ignorance.

As I said, I’ve been lucky; but I also occupy a position of privilege.

Those of us with privilege need to recognise it and speak out, particularly when we have a platform from which to speak; or, better yet, we need to use our privilege to give a platform to others who don’t. We need to embody our beliefs in our work. We need to support projects and initiatives that have social benefit, particularly those that support and involve marginalised communities or people without a voice. We need to work as individuals and collectively to ensure our events, conferences, and communities are welcoming, safe spaces for all people, regardless of gender, race, sexuality, or physical ability. And we need to mentor and support those who come after us.

Things you can do

For those interested in doing more, there are steps you can take, particularly given the public debate we are facing over the coming month.

For those interested in the GLAM sector, read this great piece by Chris Bourg on bathrooms, libraries, and the limits of welcoming; check out Clare’s Ideas for a GLAMorous homotopia; and support the Australian Lesbian and Gay Archive.

If you want to support LGBTI youth, consider donating to Minus18.

Support Switchboard Victoria, or QLife, or PFLAG, or Twenty10.

Take the time to educate yourself. Listen when people explain how they identify themselves, rather than making assumptions. If you’re not sure what pronouns to use, ask politely; and, no matter what the answer is, recognise that you don’t then have the right to follow up with personal questions.

If you’re holding an event or conference, implement a code of conduct that makes expectations explicit with regard to harassment, discrimination, and abuse for any reason, including based on gender identity, gender expression, and sexuality. The next step is to work on ensuring you are inclusive at all levels, including in who you choose to put on the stage.

Read articles, columns and opinion pieces by members of LGBTIQA+ communities, not just from politicians, straight newspaper columnists, and religious groups. Not that you’ll find a single perspective from our communities either; we don’t all agree, and in some areas, and on some topics we may strongly disagree, so read around.

And, if you want to hold a panel or a discussion session about marriage equality, the plebiscite, or other LGBTIQA+ issues, invite LGBTIQA+ people to attend and participate. At the moment in Australia there are already more than enough examples of people talking about us. Ask us to speak for ourselves.

If you have other suggestions, please include them in the comments or start a conversation on Twitter.

 

*Post updated 1:09pm, Wednesday 16 August 2017 to correct the reference to the GLAM Blog Club theme of ‘Fear.’