In an argument about how holding homophobic beliefs hurts people.
Let me talk to you about a culture of abuse, [elided]. I can't speak to the culture of abuse that surrounds being gay, because I'm not, but I grew up in one of my own.
It's not the howling looneys, it's not the nutcases, it's not the shaggy guys with placards and bullhorns shouting about sin that hurt the most. It's the people who sound reasonable, sound plausible, about so many things, and can earnestly and without laughing say, "There's something wrong with you." They sound so sane, so reasonable; they're presenting a belief that might have something to it. If they're good people, maybe even friends, there's something else that makes it get some emotional consideration -- even if one honestly believes that it's wrong, that's it's stupid, that whatever.
Now, a few people, a few people can be ignored. But suppose a situation where essentially everyone who wants to say something is expressing "There's something wrong with you". Maybe even going home doesn't provide a refuge, because people there say "There's something wrong with you." It may not be "There's something wrong with you so I'm going to taunt you constantly," or "There's something wrong with you so I'm going to pretend to be your friend, invite you to a party, and give you an address that doesn't exist" or "There's something wrong with you so I'm going to behave in a manner that we both know is threatening but is entirely deniable", but there's still no escape from "There's something wrong with you." Maybe the authority figures who are supposed to stop this sort of thing respond to it with a shrug and "Boys will be boys" or something similar; maybe there are no authority figures. (All examples real.)
There is no refuge from the persistent, driving, "There's something wrong with you." It becomes the default expectation; a new person, a new encounter who doesn't come out with "There's something wrong with you" right away may still be harboring it secretly, and if that secret belief comes out it's another betrayal, another condemnation to solitude. Even the street loonies start sounding plausible -- "There's something wrong with you!" winds up feeling personal, feeling like another heart wound. And there will be people who say, "Don't take them seriously, they can't hurt you if you don't let them." They're wrong; they're telling pretty lies (though they may believe them) that only enforce that solitude and abandonment, especially on children, who add to that vast "There's something wrong with you" the knowledge that they don't know how to keep themselves from being hurt.
The lucky ones eventually find a place where they don't hear "There's something wrong with you" all the time, people they can trust who don't believe that, and can build up the strength to be genuine, uncrippled human beings who aren't crippled by these defects inflicted from the outside. Humans need human contact and affection -- I'm told that babies will die without it even if all their physical needs are met -- and if all the human contact one has available is poisoned, it's impossible not to ingest that poison, even if one's entirely aware that it's killing one slowly. The only way to avoid being poisoned is to have enough clean contact untainted by "There's something wrong with you" available, and in some situations and some contexts that's bloody hard to manage, like the situation that many gay kids face.
I have most of the symptoms for PTSD -- and psychologists have been known to diagnose it for persistent endemic abuse like what I described above. Someday I'll be able to afford to get to a psychologist and see if there's anything I can do for it other than learn how to live as someone who is damned well okay, no matter what the people who would believe "There's something wrong with you" think.
If you want to believe that holding the belief and expressing the belief "There's something wrong with you" is essentially harmless, that it doesn't contribute to the isolation of the people it's targeted at, their feelings of abandonment or betrayal, there's nothing I can do to stop you. I can only cite what that belief did to me, and if that doesn't convince, there is nothing else for me to do but try to heal the wounded.
Let me talk to you about a culture of abuse, [elided]. I can't speak to the culture of abuse that surrounds being gay, because I'm not, but I grew up in one of my own.
It's not the howling looneys, it's not the nutcases, it's not the shaggy guys with placards and bullhorns shouting about sin that hurt the most. It's the people who sound reasonable, sound plausible, about so many things, and can earnestly and without laughing say, "There's something wrong with you." They sound so sane, so reasonable; they're presenting a belief that might have something to it. If they're good people, maybe even friends, there's something else that makes it get some emotional consideration -- even if one honestly believes that it's wrong, that's it's stupid, that whatever.
Now, a few people, a few people can be ignored. But suppose a situation where essentially everyone who wants to say something is expressing "There's something wrong with you". Maybe even going home doesn't provide a refuge, because people there say "There's something wrong with you." It may not be "There's something wrong with you so I'm going to taunt you constantly," or "There's something wrong with you so I'm going to pretend to be your friend, invite you to a party, and give you an address that doesn't exist" or "There's something wrong with you so I'm going to behave in a manner that we both know is threatening but is entirely deniable", but there's still no escape from "There's something wrong with you." Maybe the authority figures who are supposed to stop this sort of thing respond to it with a shrug and "Boys will be boys" or something similar; maybe there are no authority figures. (All examples real.)
There is no refuge from the persistent, driving, "There's something wrong with you." It becomes the default expectation; a new person, a new encounter who doesn't come out with "There's something wrong with you" right away may still be harboring it secretly, and if that secret belief comes out it's another betrayal, another condemnation to solitude. Even the street loonies start sounding plausible -- "There's something wrong with you!" winds up feeling personal, feeling like another heart wound. And there will be people who say, "Don't take them seriously, they can't hurt you if you don't let them." They're wrong; they're telling pretty lies (though they may believe them) that only enforce that solitude and abandonment, especially on children, who add to that vast "There's something wrong with you" the knowledge that they don't know how to keep themselves from being hurt.
The lucky ones eventually find a place where they don't hear "There's something wrong with you" all the time, people they can trust who don't believe that, and can build up the strength to be genuine, uncrippled human beings who aren't crippled by these defects inflicted from the outside. Humans need human contact and affection -- I'm told that babies will die without it even if all their physical needs are met -- and if all the human contact one has available is poisoned, it's impossible not to ingest that poison, even if one's entirely aware that it's killing one slowly. The only way to avoid being poisoned is to have enough clean contact untainted by "There's something wrong with you" available, and in some situations and some contexts that's bloody hard to manage, like the situation that many gay kids face.
I have most of the symptoms for PTSD -- and psychologists have been known to diagnose it for persistent endemic abuse like what I described above. Someday I'll be able to afford to get to a psychologist and see if there's anything I can do for it other than learn how to live as someone who is damned well okay, no matter what the people who would believe "There's something wrong with you" think.
If you want to believe that holding the belief and expressing the belief "There's something wrong with you" is essentially harmless, that it doesn't contribute to the isolation of the people it's targeted at, their feelings of abandonment or betrayal, there's nothing I can do to stop you. I can only cite what that belief did to me, and if that doesn't convince, there is nothing else for me to do but try to heal the wounded.
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I got back, "Minority groups shouldn't suggest censorship!" and "Plenty of people who think gay sex is a sin aren't being fuckheads about it!"
Glad to see these people are fucking paying attention.
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stupid people! argh!
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But it is worthwhile to speak truth, regardless of whether the other person is ready to be open to it. You don't have to change their minds (though it would be nice)-- you only have to keep faith with your own truth.
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...and someday they may eventually hear....
You really made an important point that I hadn't been able to articulate and have always been told to just "get over".
You have made a difference to me in a lot of ways including your expressions of your opinions, I'm only one person, but that's one person who wouldn't have made it through a lot of things if it weren't for you.
In my leadership class my teacher (visiting from Harvard) said that an important part of being a great leader is to respect and understand your peers- therefore, not think there is something wrong with anyone. Everyone is beautiful and has talents that we can all gain something from.
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It gives the rest of us another well-expressed argument which we can quote from or refer to, and it's both valuable and welcome for that reason alone.
Difference may yet be made.
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Good post, though... could apply to many things very well.
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A message board somewhat run by the Chicago Reader in . . . honor? Of one of its columnists, in which his fans and people who want to argue with his fans discuss his columns and lots of other stuff.
I started reading the board because someone posted a link to people making stupid arguments about open relationships and sort of stayed because it seemed rude to drive-by.
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*long hug*
It's really nice to be a grown-up among grown-ups with more choice over who I associate with.
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And I'm really, really grateful that you wrote it out. It may not feel like it was helpful now, but I think a whole lot of people are going to take courage from your words, and borrow a little eloquence, and be able to articulate this thing in other places.
Thank you.
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It's still, as I know you know, damned hard to keep doing it in the face of all the nothing much happens.
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I do know how hard it is. Thank you.
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Reading what you wrote made me cry as it could so easily have been written by me, not about my sexuality i've been lucky in that respect, but about my disabilities.
*hugs* I hope you and everyone else who's ever had any of this finds some relief from it someday.
xx Sonia
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In a comment to someone else, you said "and now you know about 60% of why I went through the IB, heh." I don't know if I'm reading that right or not...but I do know that, in least in my experience, IB was a rare environment in that no one would tell you that "there's something wrong with you." It was a safe haven for a lot of people who came from family situations or previous social situations that were extremely difficult -- and ultimately, that's why a lot of us stayed despite the stress.
As I said, I'm not sure how exactly you meant your comment about IB, but that and your thoughtful post reminded me of how fortunate I was to have spent my high school years without the cruelty of "there's something wrong with you."
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I had the option of going to Eastern or Takoma in junior high school, and decided against it (neither of the programs strongly appealed to me). Then I worked my way through junior high, and at the end of it declared: I am not spending four more years with these people.
So I applied to Blair and RM, and wound up at RM. Spent about the first half of freshman year trying to figure out how to be human, which I found a startlingly difficult skillset to pick up starting out at age thirteen.
(The person who I made that comment in response to was one of my classmates there, for additional context.)