Looking
around me today, I see a group that was for a long time marginalized – even criminalized
– just for being who they are. A group of people who were oppressed by the
legal and social systems of the society in which they lived. A group whose
anger coalesced into active resistance suddenly found its voice and began to
speak out and fight for their rights.
They had every right to be angry. They had every right to speak up and to fight. Mainstream society wasn’t going to give them equal treatment if they didn’t. And they had allies, people who agreed that a terrible wrong needed to be righted.
They had every right to be angry. They had every right to speak up and to fight. Mainstream society wasn’t going to give them equal treatment if they didn’t. And they had allies, people who agreed that a terrible wrong needed to be righted.
If it seems I’m talking about today, about those
in our community who are persons of color, transgendered or gender-fluid, or
women subjected to misogynistic discrimination, I’m not. I’m talking about the
gay men and women, the leatherfolk and the drag queens, the trans folk and the
gender-fluid who stood up post-Stonewall and began the fight for the advances
toward equality we see today.
I have to wonder. Have we forgotten the anger and indignation that drove the propelled the early gay rights movement? Has the sheer force and raw emotion of it been glamorized through media and film over the last 48 years? Let’s not delude ourselves. Let’s face the truth that gay men and women, in the early days of the gay rights movement, lashed out in anger at both those who opposed them and, in some cases, those who were allies.
Sound familiar? It should. That same anger remains. The fight to wrest equality from oppression has seen advances, but not all have benefitted from them equally. There's no logical argument against the truth that the main beneficiaries of those advances are cis-gendered white males and, to a lesser extent, women (yes, I know the term “cis” didn’t exist in 1969 or the early 70’s, but in a contemporary debate I have to – and I am comfortable with – using it). The anger from being oppressed still drives - is still needed to drive – our brothers and sisters who are persons of color, transgendered or gendered fluid, and (given the misogyny we still see), women.
Let me clear. I am in no way condoning behavior that is disrespectful or threatening. I’m certainly no advocate of the violent vitriol we oft-times see. Yet, to turn away from the fight of many on the basis if the actions of a few or to not understand the source of that anger – that’s an example of privilege, one that those who came before us didn’t have and through whose work and sacrifice it even exists.
We all have grounds to be angry. The struggle for equality and acceptance isn’t ended yet. We all want to be heard and understood. But let’s also remember that it’s not advancing equally for all. The playing field and the opportunities aren’t even; many of the paths forward are strewn with obstacles and hurdles than many of us don’t have to overcome. We all face possible threats and hazards to our well-being and even our lives - but for those who are transgendered or gender non-conforming, for persons of color, for women and for people living with HIV the threats and hazards are far more numerous.
I’m not going to presume to say anyone owes anyone else anything. I’ll let the history of our community and its struggles speak for itself. Anger can be an amazing catalyst for change. But we have to understand the anger and where it's coming from if its course to affect positive change is to be directed.
I have to wonder. Have we forgotten the anger and indignation that drove the propelled the early gay rights movement? Has the sheer force and raw emotion of it been glamorized through media and film over the last 48 years? Let’s not delude ourselves. Let’s face the truth that gay men and women, in the early days of the gay rights movement, lashed out in anger at both those who opposed them and, in some cases, those who were allies.
Sound familiar? It should. That same anger remains. The fight to wrest equality from oppression has seen advances, but not all have benefitted from them equally. There's no logical argument against the truth that the main beneficiaries of those advances are cis-gendered white males and, to a lesser extent, women (yes, I know the term “cis” didn’t exist in 1969 or the early 70’s, but in a contemporary debate I have to – and I am comfortable with – using it). The anger from being oppressed still drives - is still needed to drive – our brothers and sisters who are persons of color, transgendered or gendered fluid, and (given the misogyny we still see), women.
Let me clear. I am in no way condoning behavior that is disrespectful or threatening. I’m certainly no advocate of the violent vitriol we oft-times see. Yet, to turn away from the fight of many on the basis if the actions of a few or to not understand the source of that anger – that’s an example of privilege, one that those who came before us didn’t have and through whose work and sacrifice it even exists.
We all have grounds to be angry. The struggle for equality and acceptance isn’t ended yet. We all want to be heard and understood. But let’s also remember that it’s not advancing equally for all. The playing field and the opportunities aren’t even; many of the paths forward are strewn with obstacles and hurdles than many of us don’t have to overcome. We all face possible threats and hazards to our well-being and even our lives - but for those who are transgendered or gender non-conforming, for persons of color, for women and for people living with HIV the threats and hazards are far more numerous.
I’m not going to presume to say anyone owes anyone else anything. I’ll let the history of our community and its struggles speak for itself. Anger can be an amazing catalyst for change. But we have to understand the anger and where it's coming from if its course to affect positive change is to be directed.
No comments:
Post a Comment