Spark In Darkness

One of the core foundations of homophobia and transphobia is hate speech. And on today of all days we have to recognise that, recognise that all the discrimination, the violence, the hatred – it’s based on a solid core of hate speech. The words that normalise hatred, the constant vitriol that justifies, encourages and cheerleads hate.

We cannot separate these words from the people who are attacked, beaten and killed. We cannot separate these words from the discriminatory laws, prejudiced policies and biased discrimination.

If bigoted violence and discrimination is the tree – then hate speech is the fertile soil in which it grows.

Even in some of these examples that are, frankly, almost comic in their extremity.

Andrea Lafferty of the Traditional Values Coalition (and isn’t it sad that hate speech has progressed to such a degree that whenever we see the words “family” “tradition” or “values” we know some hate is on the way?) is worried about ENDA. Because, you see, protecting GBLT people from discrimination will lead to having people with stump fetishes working in the Veterans Association harassing  veterans with amputees. Yes. um… wow. I think this calls for some incoherent flailing at the screen *flails*

Of course, it gets worse, because while most people would look at this woman and gently edge towards the exits and her own words make it abundantly clear she’s about as professional a witness as George Rekers, the media doesn’t agree. CBS decided that she was a great source to have on TV to discuss ENDA because bigots like this are legitimate experts. A view that is apparently shared by Roll Call a capital hill newspaper that also has decided to use Andrea Lafferty as a source. It may be worth noting at this point that the Traditional Values Coalition has been recognised as a hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Centre. So, please to be telling us why you are treating these people as mainstream sources, oh media? Why are you presenting hatred as legitimate? Again and again. Hate is not legitimate, it is not acceptable and it sure as hello is not something the media should present as official and reasonable!

Moving away from the media sponsored hate we can pass our glance over at facebook for some mass hating. A facebook group about Justin Bieber. now I can’t say I’m a fan – but over 300,000 peopel fanning a group to ’vote him our of the male gender?’ Ugh I have not the words. They do though – lots and lots of vile homophobic words.

Of course, no mention of hate speech would be complete without a nod to the religious groups. In fact, the Assembly of God is so utterly dedicated to hate speech that he has demanded his name and group be removed from the civility pledge – especially since non-haters may have also signed the pledge! Damn them good manners getting in the way of a good hatin’

I think it’s time for some hateful doom mongering – nope, the stump fetishes aren’t nearly enough, haven’t you been paying attention? Stump fetishes are small fry compared to earthquakes and hurricanes that tolerating the gays unleash! In fact Focus on the Family is especially worried – for this tolerance of gays is going to destroy America – just like it caused 9/11. Yeah, I want to satirise that but what can I do? It satirises itself! Though, honestly, where have all the threats about San Francisco falling into the sea gone? I mean, San Francisco, it’s a major gay centre and it’s ON a fault line – you’d think these foaming bigots would be all over that one.

The forces of politics are, naturally, among those spreading hatred. In Cyprus DISY deputy Andreas Themistocleous hit the trifecta of offensive bullshit in comparing being gay to necrophilia, paedophilia and bestiality (hey, Andreas, you totally missed incest. Did you not study your notes properly?)

Over in the US, in response to DADT, Senator Inhoffe would like to point out why DADT just wouldn’t work – because straight soldiers are hardly going to fight and risk their lives to save comrades if those comrades are nasty nasty gays, right Yeah, wow, this guy has a high opinion of soldiers, doesn’t he?

Of course, no summation of hate speech would be complete without someone conjuring the image of us big bad gays out to get your children. Over to Eugene Delgaudio, a  District Supervisor in Sterling, Virginia who wishes to warn all righteous straight people of the homosexuals targeting your children! We will turn “classrooms into social laboratories” and “playgrounds into homosexual breeding grounds!“ and they will “teach sodomy!” Of course the law he is referring to ACTUALLY protects kids from being, y’know, bullied and beaten for being gay. But don’t let facts and the suffering of children get in the way of a good hatin’ right? And when he says things like this You’ll see men hand-in-hand skipping down to adoption centers to “pick out” a little boy for themselves. Well that’s some major hatred right there. Another day, another bigot comparing our love to paedophilia.

Of course, protecting the children is a theme that never gets old (while our kids are scarred, beaten and wrecked) Randy Thompson of Save California (from us of course, keep up) is perturbed by Harvey Milk’s birthday. You see, honouring Harvey Milk will lead to the “degradation of children as human beings.”  That’s a new one – he may want to forward that one to the pope, he may want to borrow it.

Which of course leads us to that old standby of hate speech – the Catholic church. Where to start?

Well there’s Mark Wahlberg’s priest who, desperately worried for Mr. Wahlberg’s morality, advised strongly against him playing a gay man Because that would be moral *checks Wahlberg’s previous roles* because none of his other characters have ever ever ever been immoral, right?

Then there’s the Brazilian Archbishop Dadeus Grings who, in addition to blaming the Catholic child abuse scandal on society (and declaring that the police should not be involved) then took a swipe at gays. Of course, acceptance of homosexuality leads to acceptance of paedophilia, y’see. Yes paedophilia, again.  Reading from the standard Catholic song sheet, really couldn’t one of them at least find an original script for their religious based hate speech? It’s getting old

Of course, the pope is not one to slack when it comes to hate speech, and certainly isn’t going to be outdone by his bishops! Oh no. Speaking in Portugal, the Pope has declared that gay marriage, along with abortion, are among “the most insidious and dangerous challenges to society” And I thought comparing us to climate change was extreme. Seriously, the most insidious and dangerous challenges to society?! Is that on par with or worse than poverty, inequality, terrorism, war, the AIDS epidemic, water shortages? Since we’re up there with those oh-so-terrible abortions *eye roll* as the MOST dangerous and insidious, that means nothing can be worse…

Hey, y‘know what I think is worse? CHILD ABUSE. Now shut up with your ridiculous hating, you’re embarrassing yourself.

This piece originally appeared at Womanist Musings where Renee has very generously allowed my random musings to appear on her excellent blog

I wasn’t sure whether to post this, either there or here, certainly not both. Despite fighting campaigning and working against homophobia every day, I am reluctant in the extreme to confront my own experiences. I have the nagging feeling I am failing or losing by allowing remembered incidents bother me, I feel like a failure when I am triggered and I feel weak and angry that these events carried – and carry – so much pain for me. There are some events in my life I don’t think I will ever be ready to confront, especially given how hard it was to do this one.

I was stuck in a truly dull party the other day. It was one of those awkward events where no-one actually knows anyone else, but everyone pretends they do – all at the instigation of one of a friend who seems obsessed with resurrecting old school acquaintances. If I haven‘t spoken to someone in 10 years or more? There‘s usually a reason for it.

So here I am, bad drink in hands, checking the clock for the earliest polite opportunity to leave and vaguely considering whether jumping out of a third storey window to freedom would hurt all that much, when an old schoolmate approached. And I had a deer-in-headlights moment

“Do you remember me?”

Yes. I remembered him.

He was the best friend of my oldest friend, a boy I’d known since we were both in nappies  He was the first person I came out to, when I had just turned 14.

I remember my oldest friend hitting me then kicking while I lay on the floor until things cracked.

I remember being taken to hospital by my horrified parents. I remember lying to them about what had happened, saying I’d been mugged (like that was believable). I remember lying to the police.

I remember them not believing me. I remember the months – years – afterwards of them not trusting me, of their worry about what I was involved in, of the constant questions, whether I was using drugs, what I was going, where I was going. I remember lying to it all. I remember them not believing a word.

I remember my oldest friend telling him.

I remember him and his group ostracising me. I remember him calling me “faggot” and “queer” and “arsebandit” and “fudgepacker”

I remember them throwing things at me. I remember trying not to leave school unless I was in a group. I remember him and his friends waiting for me as I walked to school and walked home.

I remember coming home bruised and bloody and my parents asking why. I remember lying to them, again. I remember the trust I lost, the rift it created. I remember them worrying, I remember my mother crying about it – and still not telling her, still lying to her. I remember lying to them in hospital and the doctor’s office.

I remember him telling my friends, gods I remember him telling half the damn year. I remember people avoiding me, I remember the whispers. I remember lying to them too. I remember telling them I wasn’t gay. I remember constantly insisting on being straight when i wasn’t. I remember feeling like I had to deny what I was.

I remember lying to my teachers, pretending there was nothing wrong, refusing to talk to them. I remember being angry and snarling at them when they pressed. I remember them wondering if there was something wrong at home.

I remember I stopped going out, becoming something of a hermit because I didn’t know if I would meet him and his friends. I remember driving many of my friends away because I didn’t trust them any more, because I was scared of them.

I remember being afraid pretty much all the time, I remember being ashamed. I remember hating myself. I remember trying to change. I remember fear of hurting my family being the only real thing holding me back from despair.

I remember this lasting until I left school. I remember picking a college based not on what was best for me – but because I was sure he and his friends weren’t going.

I remember it being years before I had the courage to come out to someone again. I remember it being years before I convinced myself they were wrong, not me. I remember it was years before I realised I deserved to be happy, to love, to be.

I remember this, though I’ve tried REALLY hard not to over the years. I still have the scars – physical and mental. I was damaged by these memories, badly. Not the only damage or perhaps even the most severe, but damaged nevertheless. Damage that took a long time to repair, damage that still isn’t entirely fixed.

But he didn’t remember, or wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. And he was stood there and smiling and carrying on the great pretence that we were friends. That we had good times to talk about. That we had happy memories and pleasant reminiscences.

And I played by the script. I pasted a plastic smile on my face. I laughed, I told pathetic jokes and helped slop whitewash over the mess of history. I joined in the pretence, I kept up the act. I let the lie stand that it didn’t matter, that it was bygones, that time had healed all wounds. All the while not sure whether I want to run away or go for the throat. But I played nice. I did the acceptable thing, the mature thing.

After all, I’m 28 now. Isn’t it petty to hold grudges over things that ended when I was 16? Doesn’t it mean I am weak and pathetic to still be hurt by that? Shouldn’t an adult be able to put that behind them? Surely there’s something wrong with me for this still to matter? Surely I’m being ridiculous treating incidents as a teenager as important?

But it feels important. It took me 4 days to write this. 4 days when normally I tear off a post in a few hours (hence the typos). 4 days where I kept coming back, deleting, stopping, considering scrapping the whole thing. Beloved and friends have kept me from a funk of depression, I’ve been trying to raise some anger, to force humour – anything to not feel so… small and weak over this. I still don’t know if I’ll finish it or how to finish it.

I spend a lot of my time running and hiding from the various incidents of homophobia in my life. It has long been my way of (not) dealing with them. It’s ironic that I devote so much time to fighting, confronting and combating homophobia but still do my level best to deny and avoid my own experiences. It is hard to have those walls torn down, to be forced to look at the thinsg I‘ve been so studiously ignoring. And I can’t help but feel ashamed that those walls coming down still hurts, that I have somehow failed

So, yes, it was 12-14 years ago, but I am still vulnerable to it. And, though I’m having a problem accepting this, I have a right to be vulnerable to this, to be hurt by this. I have no reason to be ashamed that I am not strong enough to brush this off nor should I feel like I’ve failed because it still leaves its mark on me.

Easy words to type… much harder to believe.

It has to be said, as far as parties went it wasn’t the best. Next time, I’m totally bringing a cheaper bottle. And maybe an axe.