Oh, Johnny boy, say it isn’t so.
It’s funny how infidelity is as old as the hills and yet, there’s always this gasp when you hear about a famous figure – in this case John Edwards – who cheats and gets caught. Most of us have been touched by it, whether instigator or victim, so why the shock and awe? I’m more interested in what we nobodies, who would never be profiled in The National Enquirer or on Nightline, think about it and why we (don’t) do it.
Many years ago, I was very black-and-white about cheating. My line of thinking was if my significant other was unfaithful, I would end the relationship. It’s a violation and breach of trust. I still believe that last part but, just like many things in life, my thinking has evolved with experience. Cheating is still a difficult thing to deal with, but I’ve learned there are many layers underneath that motivate our actions.
We men have largely been taught to think the worst of ourselves when it comes to sex. I’ve heard my mother, aunts, cousins, sisters, female friends or girlfriends complain with some variation of "Men are dogs," "Men are weak," or just an exasperated "Men!"
A sense of fatalism can quickly develop. Many of us feel we have a license to cheat because that’s what men do after all – instant self-fulfilling prophecy. Many of my male gay friends and colleagues seriously think monogamy is not possible and have never had a monogamous relationship. It’s hard to fight against stepping out if you assume it is expected or inevitable.
As plenty of straight men cheat – some can argue they have taken it to high art – a conundrum bedevils gay men, I think. Part of our identity is our sexuality. Heterosexuals aren’t defined by their sex partners as we are because gays are "the other." Sex playing such a prominent role in the culture provides wrinkles and more than a little insecurity. For a lot of us, our value and self-worth come from our sex appeal – how many men we can attract, get, and please. Being committed to one person can suddenly seem a little oppressive. The desire to be noticed and wanted feeds our ego and vanity, and trouble may follow.
I’ve never cheated on anyone because I couldn’t stand being disloyal or deceitful. But part of staying faithful has been outright forcing myself to keep the big picture in hand and not assuming I’ll be good just because I love my partner. I’ve scaled back going out to clubs, and avoided chat rooms because I’m not going to willfully create a situation that will be that much difficult to get out of. Without my asking, my partner took down his online profiles and even avoided the showers at his gym because of that same mentality.
An informal survey of some friends who had a relationship over the last several years that involved cheating revealed few cases of breakaway lust, like going away on a business trip and getting seduced by Doug in accounting. Most were in situations with looming unresolved and/or uncommunicated issues that led to seeking solace or escape in straying. In a case where I was cheated on, we were clearly at the beginning of the end and he checked out.
Infidelity is no longer an automatic deal breaker for me. Sure, I’d be sad, hurt, and angry but it depends on the situation. If my partner has a one-time fling and can be honest about his mistake and show contrition, I don’t think I can throw it all away. After all, one of the measures of a man is the ability to admit when he’s wrong and do what it takes to be right again. And besides, one mistake does not represent anyone’s full character.
Now if someone were to have an affair(s) or stray multiple times, that’s different. It’s continuously diverting some affection, attention and work from our relationship elsewhere and it’s sacrificing not just fidelity but faithfulness in the concept of "us."
I’m not sure what John Edwards was thinking. His admittance of narcissism made me think the usual politician’s mea culpa was now a breath of fresh air. Then he wanted to make me knock the fresh air out of him when he stressed his dalliance happened when Elizabeth was in remission for her cancer – as if it makes it all better. He became preening and calculated, and his glib answer made it all seem so simple.
But Johnny boy, it ain’t simple.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Unease With Disease
OK, the lecturer/father/disciplinarian in me is about to come out and it won't be pretty.
Well, the news isn't pretty. Updated analysis released last weekend by the Center for Disease Control found there were about 56,300 new HIV infections in 2006 (the most recent year for which data are available), about 40% higher than CDC's long-standing estimate of 40,000 for each of the last several years.
The caveat: According to CDC, the number of new infections likely was never as low as the previous estimate of 40,000 and has been relatively stable overall since the late 1990s. But there are disturbing trends among men of color. Blacks accounted for 45% of new infections while Hispanics accounted for 18%. Keep in mind the general population for both races is much lower.
I'm sure part of that is attributable to declining funds for public health and prevention, but let's face it - a very substantial part of that pie is risky behavior.
A scroll on Craig's List, Adam4Adam, Gay.com and a host of other sites confirms that too many of us are being deadly complacent. I'm so tired of seeing all these guys who want to bareback still. Barebacking?? I mean, really. I'd like to ask these guys if they'd want to try running across I-495 at 5:15 p.m. to see if they can dodge the cars.
Maybe that's just it. STDs just don't seem that scary anymore. When you see pristine, young faces on advertisements for HIV drugs, it's easy to think any virus or disease can be contained. Any bad result can be fixed with a shot or a pill and you can go back to what you were doing. The vision of a haggard, sunken-cheeked Tom Hanks languishing in his deathbed in Philadelphia seems antiquated now.
I have been amazed at how many sexual partners in my past were ready to make a move without condoms. Perhaps they just saw a (outwardly) healthy, professional man and automatically assumed I wouldn't be "the type" to do anything foolish or "have something"? If that's true then why do the knuckleheads turn around and then do something foolish? I’ve remained STD-free but I could have been lying about my status to them for all they know.
True confession: I’ve been lax (i.e. condomless) twice (outside of a monogamous relationship) and thus can be categorized as a temporary above-mentioned knucklehead. I chose to continue to be swept up by the moment. But I shouldn't have, out of principle, and I have never made that mistake since.
I have several people in my life who are HIV-positive. In three cases, I discovered a pattern of unsafe sex in their lives. I like to consider myself nonjudgmental but, admittedly, my initial feeling was deep disappointment in them. But I soon realized their lives have changed forever and no amount of lecturing from me can make them feel worse than when that nuclear bombshell of a discovery resonated inside their heads.
Part of the problem is a lack of education, considering I still come across some guys who assume a top can never get HIV, for example. The other pieces include a myth of infallibility ("I’m young, dammit, and can always win Russian roulette!") and this sense of inevitability of STDs, just like some of we African-Americans think we're fated to get diabetes, not realizing how much of that we control in diet and exercise.
Another thing is laziness. I didn’t consistently ask about STD status every time, so I got complacent even with the glove on. And some of us are so focused on HIV, we may be ignoring the consequences of other unprotected acts apart from penetration and other, more easily-transmitted diseases like syphilis and hepatitis.
If disturbing trends like these don’t make us ditch this ludicrous abstinence-only sex education habit the Bush administration is intent upon pushing, I don’t know what will. Sexual behavior is so complex that young and older adults need comprehensive education and real conversations about what is out there and how we can enjoy our sexuality in a healthy way.
OK, lecture’s over.
Well, the news isn't pretty. Updated analysis released last weekend by the Center for Disease Control found there were about 56,300 new HIV infections in 2006 (the most recent year for which data are available), about 40% higher than CDC's long-standing estimate of 40,000 for each of the last several years.
The caveat: According to CDC, the number of new infections likely was never as low as the previous estimate of 40,000 and has been relatively stable overall since the late 1990s. But there are disturbing trends among men of color. Blacks accounted for 45% of new infections while Hispanics accounted for 18%. Keep in mind the general population for both races is much lower.
I'm sure part of that is attributable to declining funds for public health and prevention, but let's face it - a very substantial part of that pie is risky behavior.
A scroll on Craig's List, Adam4Adam, Gay.com and a host of other sites confirms that too many of us are being deadly complacent. I'm so tired of seeing all these guys who want to bareback still. Barebacking?? I mean, really. I'd like to ask these guys if they'd want to try running across I-495 at 5:15 p.m. to see if they can dodge the cars.
Maybe that's just it. STDs just don't seem that scary anymore. When you see pristine, young faces on advertisements for HIV drugs, it's easy to think any virus or disease can be contained. Any bad result can be fixed with a shot or a pill and you can go back to what you were doing. The vision of a haggard, sunken-cheeked Tom Hanks languishing in his deathbed in Philadelphia seems antiquated now.
I have been amazed at how many sexual partners in my past were ready to make a move without condoms. Perhaps they just saw a (outwardly) healthy, professional man and automatically assumed I wouldn't be "the type" to do anything foolish or "have something"? If that's true then why do the knuckleheads turn around and then do something foolish? I’ve remained STD-free but I could have been lying about my status to them for all they know.
True confession: I’ve been lax (i.e. condomless) twice (outside of a monogamous relationship) and thus can be categorized as a temporary above-mentioned knucklehead. I chose to continue to be swept up by the moment. But I shouldn't have, out of principle, and I have never made that mistake since.
I have several people in my life who are HIV-positive. In three cases, I discovered a pattern of unsafe sex in their lives. I like to consider myself nonjudgmental but, admittedly, my initial feeling was deep disappointment in them. But I soon realized their lives have changed forever and no amount of lecturing from me can make them feel worse than when that nuclear bombshell of a discovery resonated inside their heads.
Part of the problem is a lack of education, considering I still come across some guys who assume a top can never get HIV, for example. The other pieces include a myth of infallibility ("I’m young, dammit, and can always win Russian roulette!") and this sense of inevitability of STDs, just like some of we African-Americans think we're fated to get diabetes, not realizing how much of that we control in diet and exercise.
Another thing is laziness. I didn’t consistently ask about STD status every time, so I got complacent even with the glove on. And some of us are so focused on HIV, we may be ignoring the consequences of other unprotected acts apart from penetration and other, more easily-transmitted diseases like syphilis and hepatitis.
If disturbing trends like these don’t make us ditch this ludicrous abstinence-only sex education habit the Bush administration is intent upon pushing, I don’t know what will. Sexual behavior is so complex that young and older adults need comprehensive education and real conversations about what is out there and how we can enjoy our sexuality in a healthy way.
OK, lecture’s over.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Living In Black and White
Well, this has been a week for me to reflect on my people and my orientation simultaneously.
I have been reading the Washington Blade’s series on perceptions of gays among members of African-American communities. Apparently, a survey says African-Americans are by far the least tolerant racial group when it comes to homosexuality.
I also heard the feedback of a good reporter friend who attended last week’s UNITY, a national gathering of minority journalists that was in Chicago. Apparently, the National Association of Black Journalists, which largely started up UNITY, scuttled an attempt yet again to allow entrance to the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association. Apparently UNITY is only for ethnic and racial minorities, not sexual ones.
First, let me get the disclaimer out of the way. Every perceivable group of people has members who are anti-gay. Homophobia, just like the DL, is not an exclusively Black thing. And I sympathized with a Blade letter to the editor from a Black reader who felt the whole series magnified a generalization that most Blacks are provincial bigots while every other race else has “progressed” and is cool with Will as it is with Grace.
But let’s also get a little real here. Stereotypes have at least a grain of truth and there’s no exception here. As someone who has befriended, dated, and worked with people of every imaginable ethnicity, race, color, and creed, I do have to say that my own people seem disproportionately opposed to, or at least uncomfortable with, homosexuality.
One episode that leaps to mind happened at an African-American Student Union meeting I attended as a college freshman. Following a rash of hate calls and other incidents, students from a gay group visited to see if they could join up with AASU and other groups of color to do something, assuming one minority group sympathized with another. Well, it degenerated into name-calling (one Black student actually used the words “fags” and “dykes”) and repudiation from a student’s mother, declaring the gays should be ashamed for their audacity. A near–unanimous vote shut the door on any alliance.
But perhaps more often – and I feel this acutely with some of my family – there is a code of silence. There’s no obvious vitriol but an unwillingness to ever bring it up. I’ve seen how family members ask straight relatives who they are dating, etc., but there’s stony silence with me. They’d rather not know. And few are willing to debate or discuss things like gay marriage. It’s like, “By the way, how about those Lakers?”
My theory: Much of it likely comes from the role the church has played in many of our lives. Like I explained to my partner recently, the Black Church has been a cornerstone of community and way of life – not just something done for a few hours every Sunday. The civil rights movement sprung from the church, as well as many of our recent leaders and spokespeople. There is a rich and impressive history. But that same church (I mean some people, not God or Jesus) casts a long shadow. Even if someone these days isn’t a regular church-goer, the lessons and the culture shape his or her attitude on issues.
And unfortunately, a disdain of homosexuals has been a lesson that has been pushed in many of our pews. In my old church, gays were “sick” and needed prayer, help, and/or the Holy Spirit. The pastor would sometimes express these notions when they weren’t germane to the sermon, as if the congregation needed a refresher course on Moral Majority 101. Many other Black friends and relatives have reported the same things even, as we all laughingly point out, many of our churches had musical directors and/or choir members who were very much “family.” Few of my friends of other races, even coming from conservative congregations, have heard anti-gay rhetoric coming from the pulpit.
I wish I had a dollar for those, even non-regular churchgoers, cling to homophobia because they were taught homosexuality was wrong and, well, you know what the Bible says. God isn’t a refuge but a cover for moral indignation and bigotry. And that bleeds into a sense of internalized homophobia and self-hatred I see among many non-straight brothers. And that in turn affects the quality of relationships, our treatment of each other, and our self-worth. Being out and proud seems to be an affront to our elders and culture, so being closeted is easier and safer. But that just lets outsiders define us and devalue our relationships, continuing the cycle of dysfunction.
Will new generations turn the tide in perception of gays? I hope so, as I see a lot fewer people younger than me shaped by the attitudes of old. We need to go forward. I’m tired of looking back.
I have been reading the Washington Blade’s series on perceptions of gays among members of African-American communities. Apparently, a survey says African-Americans are by far the least tolerant racial group when it comes to homosexuality.
I also heard the feedback of a good reporter friend who attended last week’s UNITY, a national gathering of minority journalists that was in Chicago. Apparently, the National Association of Black Journalists, which largely started up UNITY, scuttled an attempt yet again to allow entrance to the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association. Apparently UNITY is only for ethnic and racial minorities, not sexual ones.
First, let me get the disclaimer out of the way. Every perceivable group of people has members who are anti-gay. Homophobia, just like the DL, is not an exclusively Black thing. And I sympathized with a Blade letter to the editor from a Black reader who felt the whole series magnified a generalization that most Blacks are provincial bigots while every other race else has “progressed” and is cool with Will as it is with Grace.
But let’s also get a little real here. Stereotypes have at least a grain of truth and there’s no exception here. As someone who has befriended, dated, and worked with people of every imaginable ethnicity, race, color, and creed, I do have to say that my own people seem disproportionately opposed to, or at least uncomfortable with, homosexuality.
One episode that leaps to mind happened at an African-American Student Union meeting I attended as a college freshman. Following a rash of hate calls and other incidents, students from a gay group visited to see if they could join up with AASU and other groups of color to do something, assuming one minority group sympathized with another. Well, it degenerated into name-calling (one Black student actually used the words “fags” and “dykes”) and repudiation from a student’s mother, declaring the gays should be ashamed for their audacity. A near–unanimous vote shut the door on any alliance.
But perhaps more often – and I feel this acutely with some of my family – there is a code of silence. There’s no obvious vitriol but an unwillingness to ever bring it up. I’ve seen how family members ask straight relatives who they are dating, etc., but there’s stony silence with me. They’d rather not know. And few are willing to debate or discuss things like gay marriage. It’s like, “By the way, how about those Lakers?”
My theory: Much of it likely comes from the role the church has played in many of our lives. Like I explained to my partner recently, the Black Church has been a cornerstone of community and way of life – not just something done for a few hours every Sunday. The civil rights movement sprung from the church, as well as many of our recent leaders and spokespeople. There is a rich and impressive history. But that same church (I mean some people, not God or Jesus) casts a long shadow. Even if someone these days isn’t a regular church-goer, the lessons and the culture shape his or her attitude on issues.
And unfortunately, a disdain of homosexuals has been a lesson that has been pushed in many of our pews. In my old church, gays were “sick” and needed prayer, help, and/or the Holy Spirit. The pastor would sometimes express these notions when they weren’t germane to the sermon, as if the congregation needed a refresher course on Moral Majority 101. Many other Black friends and relatives have reported the same things even, as we all laughingly point out, many of our churches had musical directors and/or choir members who were very much “family.” Few of my friends of other races, even coming from conservative congregations, have heard anti-gay rhetoric coming from the pulpit.
I wish I had a dollar for those, even non-regular churchgoers, cling to homophobia because they were taught homosexuality was wrong and, well, you know what the Bible says. God isn’t a refuge but a cover for moral indignation and bigotry. And that bleeds into a sense of internalized homophobia and self-hatred I see among many non-straight brothers. And that in turn affects the quality of relationships, our treatment of each other, and our self-worth. Being out and proud seems to be an affront to our elders and culture, so being closeted is easier and safer. But that just lets outsiders define us and devalue our relationships, continuing the cycle of dysfunction.
Will new generations turn the tide in perception of gays? I hope so, as I see a lot fewer people younger than me shaped by the attitudes of old. We need to go forward. I’m tired of looking back.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
Imagine sex.
Now imagine not having sex. On purpose. For over three months. And did I mention you were in the prime of your life in this scenario?
Try to wipe the incredulous grimace or frown from your face. One young New York City man is doing this as we speak. But perhaps his endeavor will teach a lot of us something about sexuality and the emphasis gay culture places on it.
New Yorker Vince Sandoval started a blog called “Better Than Sex: Or Things To Do In New York City Without Sex.” [Go to http://betterthansexnyc.wordpress.com/] He details daily activities, many of them offbeat, which range from silent dates to museum jaunts to dressing up as a fierce female soccer player. The common denominator is that he’s not having sex. Even the cuddle party he just went to and chronicled outlawed dry-humping.
The Manila, Philippines, transplant moved to NYC just a few years ago but he quickly grew tired of the casual sex and drug use that was sometimes very pronounced in the gay world, wondering of anybody wanted to actually date – sober. Vince likes having fun just like anybody else, but wasn’t there more to do besides trick, barhop, and shop?
“The culture here was so different and felt increasingly empty,” he said. “I wanted to step back from that and see things from a whole different perspective.”
So he got the idea of having a 100-day sex moratorium. But why not make it fun and do new, often-unexplored things in New York? His adventures have also included going to a Turkish bath and city hall to see if he could spy a marriage ceremony in progress. The day Vince went he actually was asked to be a witness to the wedding of an Irish couple.
“In New York, you can have the time of your life,” he said. “I wanted to show people what the city has to offer. It’s been a whole exciting adventure.”
Vince’s female friends thought it was a cool idea. His gay male friends either thought he was sneaking sex on the side or just went crazy. It’s funny how Vince’s pledge of temporary celibacy, which admittedly was tested during the summer’s Gay Pride with its many shirtless and sweaty studs, seems so outrageous to many of us. If a gay man tells someone he waits until several dates to have sex, there usually is an involuntary rolling of the eyes or a chuckle. Some of us think the very idea seems so quaint – and lame.
I’m now happily in a committed relationship. But when I was single, I was very, very single. I never really thought about why. We can’t deny some force mandates and cajoles us to believe casual sex is a requirement, something we’re “supposed” to do and will be judged harshly for if we don’t. I remember an ex-boyfriend berating me on vacation for not hooking up with someone yet after a few days. Can I sightsee first, please?
But is it possible to have a healthy sex life, without sex seeming to be the most important thing all the time? I’m in a glass house and will not throw stones by suggesting a limit or cap on activity. We all have needs. But if our social lives are very sex-centered, it’s worth asking the why. We may find it’s a fear of commitment, or the maintenance of an image or reputation, for example. And are those good things to encourage?
What I figured out is that a key is balance. Is 90% of my free time in a bar or club trying to get laid? Or am I also doing other things with my time? In my singledom, I dated a lot. But I also wrote fiction, volunteered with charity groups, traveled, attended concerts and theater, read lots of books, visited museums and galleries, hiked, and watched movies.
And like Vince told me, it’s nice to spend some time having witty repartee with someone than just figuring out if you will be going to your place or his. Our biggest priorities, even when sex is among them, don’t take up all our time, attention, and space. There’s room for other things so we don’t lose perspective. Vince left me with these words:
“When you really make the effort and separate yourself from mainstream culture…you can find something else you can be passionate about.”
Now imagine not having sex. On purpose. For over three months. And did I mention you were in the prime of your life in this scenario?
Try to wipe the incredulous grimace or frown from your face. One young New York City man is doing this as we speak. But perhaps his endeavor will teach a lot of us something about sexuality and the emphasis gay culture places on it.
New Yorker Vince Sandoval started a blog called “Better Than Sex: Or Things To Do In New York City Without Sex.” [Go to http://betterthansexnyc.wordpress.com/] He details daily activities, many of them offbeat, which range from silent dates to museum jaunts to dressing up as a fierce female soccer player. The common denominator is that he’s not having sex. Even the cuddle party he just went to and chronicled outlawed dry-humping.
The Manila, Philippines, transplant moved to NYC just a few years ago but he quickly grew tired of the casual sex and drug use that was sometimes very pronounced in the gay world, wondering of anybody wanted to actually date – sober. Vince likes having fun just like anybody else, but wasn’t there more to do besides trick, barhop, and shop?
“The culture here was so different and felt increasingly empty,” he said. “I wanted to step back from that and see things from a whole different perspective.”
So he got the idea of having a 100-day sex moratorium. But why not make it fun and do new, often-unexplored things in New York? His adventures have also included going to a Turkish bath and city hall to see if he could spy a marriage ceremony in progress. The day Vince went he actually was asked to be a witness to the wedding of an Irish couple.
“In New York, you can have the time of your life,” he said. “I wanted to show people what the city has to offer. It’s been a whole exciting adventure.”
Vince’s female friends thought it was a cool idea. His gay male friends either thought he was sneaking sex on the side or just went crazy. It’s funny how Vince’s pledge of temporary celibacy, which admittedly was tested during the summer’s Gay Pride with its many shirtless and sweaty studs, seems so outrageous to many of us. If a gay man tells someone he waits until several dates to have sex, there usually is an involuntary rolling of the eyes or a chuckle. Some of us think the very idea seems so quaint – and lame.
I’m now happily in a committed relationship. But when I was single, I was very, very single. I never really thought about why. We can’t deny some force mandates and cajoles us to believe casual sex is a requirement, something we’re “supposed” to do and will be judged harshly for if we don’t. I remember an ex-boyfriend berating me on vacation for not hooking up with someone yet after a few days. Can I sightsee first, please?
But is it possible to have a healthy sex life, without sex seeming to be the most important thing all the time? I’m in a glass house and will not throw stones by suggesting a limit or cap on activity. We all have needs. But if our social lives are very sex-centered, it’s worth asking the why. We may find it’s a fear of commitment, or the maintenance of an image or reputation, for example. And are those good things to encourage?
What I figured out is that a key is balance. Is 90% of my free time in a bar or club trying to get laid? Or am I also doing other things with my time? In my singledom, I dated a lot. But I also wrote fiction, volunteered with charity groups, traveled, attended concerts and theater, read lots of books, visited museums and galleries, hiked, and watched movies.
And like Vince told me, it’s nice to spend some time having witty repartee with someone than just figuring out if you will be going to your place or his. Our biggest priorities, even when sex is among them, don’t take up all our time, attention, and space. There’s room for other things so we don’t lose perspective. Vince left me with these words:
“When you really make the effort and separate yourself from mainstream culture…you can find something else you can be passionate about.”
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Kissing A Fool
(Note: I was on vacation last week so I post this a day early to atone)
Every so often, a musical artist will come along and sing something that’s supposedly controversial and s/he gets kudos and attention for being “edgy.”
Katy Perry is one of those artists. If you don’t know the name, you surely have heard the song, “I Kissed a Girl.” I’ll admit it’s catchy, although she ripped off the exact same title from singer Jill Sobule, whose 1995 song authentically raised eyebrows for its time.
On the surface, Katy seems to be celebrating same-gender intimacy, trying on the veneer of the high school outcast rebel who boldly walks on the wild side and doesn’t give a damn what her classmates and teachers think.
Instead she’s indulging in a few of the hoariest gay stereotypes ever.
The hook, always the easiest part of a song to remember and sing along with, just describes a girl buzzed on alcohol who hopes locking lips with a cherry-Chapstick-wearing hottie doesn’t make her boyfriend mad. And she takes pains to emphasize she’s “not in love.” But the second verse is what really bothers me. Check it out.
No, I don't even know your name
It doesn't matter
You're my experimental game
Just human nature
It's not what good girls do
Not how they should behave
My head gets so confused
Hard to obey
Where do I begin?
On the surface, it’s tempting to applaud a presumably straight singer for “daring” to sing about a gay kiss. We’re assuming she must be cool with it – and gay people – if she sings about it. Artists like her sneakily advance our cause in the pop culture realm, and thus the attitudes and social mores of the general listeners, by trumpeting girl-on-girl action like it’s not a big thing, so some might say. She may even be a Girl Power advocate – an honorary Spice Girl.
But dig deeper, like a college writing teacher used to beseech to me and my classmates. First, I am so over seeing gays and lesbians reduced to experiments and games from those who want to test drive all afternoon but not sign the lease. This makes gays seem like an exotic adventure and worse, an overcoat that can just be slipped on and off.
That kind of mentality fuels the false thinking that gayness is not an orientation but just a lifestyle that can be temporarily adopted or chosen, which is still the way of thought by several family members of mine even as they say they accept me.
And what is it with this not being how “good” girls should behave? Sure, let’s paint lesbianism with a forbidden shade, as if it’s a gasp-inducing, OMG sin to share a same-sex kiss. Even as Katy purports to be liberated by the experience, she confesses to be scandalized by it at the same time.
Being edgy means behind ahead of the curve, not woefully behind it. Nowadays a same-sex smooch is merely a secondary plotline on Gossip Girls and likely the main reason viewers flock to MTV’s A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila. Of course there is always homophobia and backward thinking, but the currency of presenting things like this as shamefully illicit has long dropped in value.
Of course Katy Perry fans can argue that she (and the songwriters) is only presenting the kiss as a shock to show how ridiculous it is to place a sense of scandal on same-sex intimacy, thus making regressive souls re-think their assumptions and prejudices.
Look, I don’t know the girl. But I feel confident enough to bet $1,000 she’s not that clever and subversive by half. What’s more likely is that she and her record company wanted to release a tune with a title they knew would pique curiosity – and attract airplay and sales.
After all, the video conveniently declines to actually show her smooching an actual girl. So she’s big and bad enough to sing about it, but becomes too timid to actually show it. Whatever.
Flirting with gay territory has brought Katy a hit. Now I’m waiting for a song that describes a same-sex relationship with truthfulness, humor, depth, and cleverness and presents it as completely normal.
Now that would be edgy.
Every so often, a musical artist will come along and sing something that’s supposedly controversial and s/he gets kudos and attention for being “edgy.”
Katy Perry is one of those artists. If you don’t know the name, you surely have heard the song, “I Kissed a Girl.” I’ll admit it’s catchy, although she ripped off the exact same title from singer Jill Sobule, whose 1995 song authentically raised eyebrows for its time.
On the surface, Katy seems to be celebrating same-gender intimacy, trying on the veneer of the high school outcast rebel who boldly walks on the wild side and doesn’t give a damn what her classmates and teachers think.
Instead she’s indulging in a few of the hoariest gay stereotypes ever.
The hook, always the easiest part of a song to remember and sing along with, just describes a girl buzzed on alcohol who hopes locking lips with a cherry-Chapstick-wearing hottie doesn’t make her boyfriend mad. And she takes pains to emphasize she’s “not in love.” But the second verse is what really bothers me. Check it out.
No, I don't even know your name
It doesn't matter
You're my experimental game
Just human nature
It's not what good girls do
Not how they should behave
My head gets so confused
Hard to obey
Where do I begin?
On the surface, it’s tempting to applaud a presumably straight singer for “daring” to sing about a gay kiss. We’re assuming she must be cool with it – and gay people – if she sings about it. Artists like her sneakily advance our cause in the pop culture realm, and thus the attitudes and social mores of the general listeners, by trumpeting girl-on-girl action like it’s not a big thing, so some might say. She may even be a Girl Power advocate – an honorary Spice Girl.
But dig deeper, like a college writing teacher used to beseech to me and my classmates. First, I am so over seeing gays and lesbians reduced to experiments and games from those who want to test drive all afternoon but not sign the lease. This makes gays seem like an exotic adventure and worse, an overcoat that can just be slipped on and off.
That kind of mentality fuels the false thinking that gayness is not an orientation but just a lifestyle that can be temporarily adopted or chosen, which is still the way of thought by several family members of mine even as they say they accept me.
And what is it with this not being how “good” girls should behave? Sure, let’s paint lesbianism with a forbidden shade, as if it’s a gasp-inducing, OMG sin to share a same-sex kiss. Even as Katy purports to be liberated by the experience, she confesses to be scandalized by it at the same time.
Being edgy means behind ahead of the curve, not woefully behind it. Nowadays a same-sex smooch is merely a secondary plotline on Gossip Girls and likely the main reason viewers flock to MTV’s A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila. Of course there is always homophobia and backward thinking, but the currency of presenting things like this as shamefully illicit has long dropped in value.
Of course Katy Perry fans can argue that she (and the songwriters) is only presenting the kiss as a shock to show how ridiculous it is to place a sense of scandal on same-sex intimacy, thus making regressive souls re-think their assumptions and prejudices.
Look, I don’t know the girl. But I feel confident enough to bet $1,000 she’s not that clever and subversive by half. What’s more likely is that she and her record company wanted to release a tune with a title they knew would pique curiosity – and attract airplay and sales.
After all, the video conveniently declines to actually show her smooching an actual girl. So she’s big and bad enough to sing about it, but becomes too timid to actually show it. Whatever.
Flirting with gay territory has brought Katy a hit. Now I’m waiting for a song that describes a same-sex relationship with truthfulness, humor, depth, and cleverness and presents it as completely normal.
Now that would be edgy.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
The Binds of Matrimony
Take off the earrings and smear on the Vaseline. It’s gearing up to be quite a fight.
I don’t mean Obama vs. McCain, Christie Brinkley vs. her ex, or even Lauren vs. Heidi. I mean the Focus on the Family-type moralists who will do all they can to convince enough California voters in November to defeat gay marriage, a right the California Supreme Court granted in May.
The Court’s historic decision puts something in the grasp of Golden State gays and lesbians that many assumed would always be out of reach. Think of the lesbian couple in their 80s who were the first in the state to tie the knot after 55 years together.
My gay partnered friends in my home state are thrilled about our legal victory. So when are they going to get married? Um, maybe never. So what gives?
“I don’t think it’s for me,” said one of my dearest friends who will soon be celebrating seven years with his beau. “It’s something that never really crossed our minds.”
And considering that he and his boyfriend don’t even live together yet, he added, “It’s going to take us some time to get comfortable with the idea of getting married.” (His gay uncle, partnered for 16 years in Oakland, isn't getting fitted for a tuxedo either.)
Another good friend scoffs at the idea that gays and lesbians must run, not walk, to the nearest church or courthouse to enter into an institution in which heterosexuals still manage to produce a divorce rate that hovers at nearly 50%.
He’s been with his partner eight years and they enjoy rights under California’s domestic partnership laws. He doesn’t need “a piece of paper” to legitimize the relationship.
A lawyer acquaintance has been with his live-in partner for two years and, you guessed it, has no marriage plans. He is thrilled with the state’s ruling and figures the more straights see gays as neighbors, co-workers and now married folks, the more they see us as just like everyone else.
“It’s nice to have this ability. But perhaps the biggest thing is having the right without necessarily having to exercise it now,” he said.
The door to an important right is open but some of us are opting to not walk through it. On the surface, it seems almost illogical to not take advantage of this opportunity. But our history and place in society provides answers that have a lot of nuance.
First of all, if more than half of California voters pass the anti-gay marriage November referendum, then the rug would cruelly be pulled out from under us, perhaps indefinitely. And even if gay couples who wedded before the vote can legally retain those marriage rights, those rights feel perishable.
Second, many of us grew up assuming marriage would not be an option, so we conditioned ourselves to not calculate that into our lifetime goals. Suddenly having this opportunity option throws a lot of us and it feels like learning to walk all over again. Few of us have gay marriages to use as models for our unique circumstances, so marriage still feels alien. For many of us, living together is our marriage and it’s enough for us.
Third, this country has allowed religious institutions to shape and define marriage both as an institution and as a ceremony, and we know how much these institutions typically just love our kind. My boyfriend pointed out that marriage should be first and foremost thought of as a civil right for everyone. The equation of religion makes marriage understandably unpalatable.
Fourth, some of us – likely more gay men than women – enjoy sexual and romantic freedom from heterosexual conventions and spurn the notion of marriage and/or children as the “inevitable” next step.
Lastly, like the lawyer told me, “Marriage is a very big commitment.” Just because someone has been with his/her partner for x years doesn’t make marriage right or best for them. Look at straight couples who’ve spent many years together before marrying or opting not to get married for whatever reasons.
Besides if gays get married solely because the option is there and they like the idea of shoving a marriage certificate in a homophobe’s face to prove they are on equal ground, then those rewards are limited. Marriage can’t force validation and respect from society.
Because if my boyfriend and I could legally marry in California and bring those rights back to DC, we would still feel unsafe holding hands in certain neighborhoods and still get stares from people as we did looking at the cherry blossoms last spring.
So if you don’t see a gay man or woman jump into planning a wedding, don’t assume he or she is afraid of commitment. The marriage right is important because it is wrong for us to be second-class citizens. But the plunge should only come because a couple truly wants it.
I don’t mean Obama vs. McCain, Christie Brinkley vs. her ex, or even Lauren vs. Heidi. I mean the Focus on the Family-type moralists who will do all they can to convince enough California voters in November to defeat gay marriage, a right the California Supreme Court granted in May.
The Court’s historic decision puts something in the grasp of Golden State gays and lesbians that many assumed would always be out of reach. Think of the lesbian couple in their 80s who were the first in the state to tie the knot after 55 years together.
My gay partnered friends in my home state are thrilled about our legal victory. So when are they going to get married? Um, maybe never. So what gives?
“I don’t think it’s for me,” said one of my dearest friends who will soon be celebrating seven years with his beau. “It’s something that never really crossed our minds.”
And considering that he and his boyfriend don’t even live together yet, he added, “It’s going to take us some time to get comfortable with the idea of getting married.” (His gay uncle, partnered for 16 years in Oakland, isn't getting fitted for a tuxedo either.)
Another good friend scoffs at the idea that gays and lesbians must run, not walk, to the nearest church or courthouse to enter into an institution in which heterosexuals still manage to produce a divorce rate that hovers at nearly 50%.
He’s been with his partner eight years and they enjoy rights under California’s domestic partnership laws. He doesn’t need “a piece of paper” to legitimize the relationship.
A lawyer acquaintance has been with his live-in partner for two years and, you guessed it, has no marriage plans. He is thrilled with the state’s ruling and figures the more straights see gays as neighbors, co-workers and now married folks, the more they see us as just like everyone else.
“It’s nice to have this ability. But perhaps the biggest thing is having the right without necessarily having to exercise it now,” he said.
The door to an important right is open but some of us are opting to not walk through it. On the surface, it seems almost illogical to not take advantage of this opportunity. But our history and place in society provides answers that have a lot of nuance.
First of all, if more than half of California voters pass the anti-gay marriage November referendum, then the rug would cruelly be pulled out from under us, perhaps indefinitely. And even if gay couples who wedded before the vote can legally retain those marriage rights, those rights feel perishable.
Second, many of us grew up assuming marriage would not be an option, so we conditioned ourselves to not calculate that into our lifetime goals. Suddenly having this opportunity option throws a lot of us and it feels like learning to walk all over again. Few of us have gay marriages to use as models for our unique circumstances, so marriage still feels alien. For many of us, living together is our marriage and it’s enough for us.
Third, this country has allowed religious institutions to shape and define marriage both as an institution and as a ceremony, and we know how much these institutions typically just love our kind. My boyfriend pointed out that marriage should be first and foremost thought of as a civil right for everyone. The equation of religion makes marriage understandably unpalatable.
Fourth, some of us – likely more gay men than women – enjoy sexual and romantic freedom from heterosexual conventions and spurn the notion of marriage and/or children as the “inevitable” next step.
Lastly, like the lawyer told me, “Marriage is a very big commitment.” Just because someone has been with his/her partner for x years doesn’t make marriage right or best for them. Look at straight couples who’ve spent many years together before marrying or opting not to get married for whatever reasons.
Besides if gays get married solely because the option is there and they like the idea of shoving a marriage certificate in a homophobe’s face to prove they are on equal ground, then those rewards are limited. Marriage can’t force validation and respect from society.
Because if my boyfriend and I could legally marry in California and bring those rights back to DC, we would still feel unsafe holding hands in certain neighborhoods and still get stares from people as we did looking at the cherry blossoms last spring.
So if you don’t see a gay man or woman jump into planning a wedding, don’t assume he or she is afraid of commitment. The marriage right is important because it is wrong for us to be second-class citizens. But the plunge should only come because a couple truly wants it.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Politics of Position
Virgil is enduring a tedious conference when a respite comes in the form of a flirtatious fellow businessman. Soon, the two are in a hotel room alone and the mystery man makes a move. Virgil resists, but is tempted because his new pal is offering to bottom - something Virgil hasn't gotten in elephant years because his boyfriend is a total top.
These characters are in author Michael-Christopher's novel From Top To Bottom, featured at this year’s Black Pride literary program. But they exist in real life and represent a quandary in dating and hooking-up: Are neon signs on a total's ass that flash "exit only" - or "entrance only" - indicate mere preference or a selfish nature? And how much does the choice of a total (fill in the blank) result from fear, insecurity, and/or stereotypes that may be undercutting our sexual identities and experience?
Politics makes strange bedfellows but the politics of positions can make frustrated bedfellows, too. How many times have two totals of the same persuasion met each other and hit it off famously, only to instantly go their separate ways when they both find out they're "tops" or "bottoms" because God forbid either makes any detours on the Hershey Highway.
Some of us get caught up in roles that we quickly decide we must play. Some total tops get off on the idea of being "masculine," being in control or having power: You know how we men like our control and power. And some total bottoms feel like they can't be aggressive or they want to be the nurturing, compliant one (although in reality, an active bottom has a lot of say in what happens and how). Stereotypes? Yeah, but they hold at least a grain of truth.
A man I dated (very briefly as you'll see why) endured heckling from his brother about gays and only chose to defend himself when the brother made a joke about getting it up the ass. Sensing his manhood was mocked, he responded indignantly, "I never would do that." And when I switched from Girl World to Man Land almost a decade ago, I let my first boyfriend exclusively, ahem, take the lead because I wasn't completely confident in my newfound sexuality.
A friend of mine claims he is a total top because bottoming doesn't get him off and adds it has nothing to do with avoiding "being submissive." He would only consider flipping with a partner as an anniversary present. So basically my friend's future boyfriend can only be sure of getting a Benetton gift certificate.
Christopher, the author, came out 20 years ago in New York City, and firmly remembers position as being a non-issue. Most people weren't hung up on it and didn't ask. Magically, they let nature take its course. "It wasn't such a deal breaker and point of negotiation like it is now," he reminisces.
But perhaps it's our rush to peg people that contribute to the politics of positioning. Think about it. Many of us try to size up someone just by figuring out where he buys his jeans or who he's with on a dinner date.
And the rise of Internet dating and sex seems to parallel the position quandary. Most sites ask you to identify whether you're top, bottom or versatile, and so already you're putting your self in a box, as you advertise yourself to your metro area no less. And how many times has someone saddled up to you in a bar and soon tries to figure out your "classification?" I've been asked about being a top or a bottom before my HIV status or job.
True preference and personal taste are legitimate things. But if we're not acknowledging the mentality and influence that go into our decisions – and we're limiting ourselves and our lovers to one role perhaps because "that's the way it goes" – is that really making the most of our sex lives? I think some of us will eventually be like Virgil – imagining what we've been missing and why we're doing it to ourselves.
These characters are in author Michael-Christopher's novel From Top To Bottom, featured at this year’s Black Pride literary program. But they exist in real life and represent a quandary in dating and hooking-up: Are neon signs on a total's ass that flash "exit only" - or "entrance only" - indicate mere preference or a selfish nature? And how much does the choice of a total (fill in the blank) result from fear, insecurity, and/or stereotypes that may be undercutting our sexual identities and experience?
Politics makes strange bedfellows but the politics of positions can make frustrated bedfellows, too. How many times have two totals of the same persuasion met each other and hit it off famously, only to instantly go their separate ways when they both find out they're "tops" or "bottoms" because God forbid either makes any detours on the Hershey Highway.
Some of us get caught up in roles that we quickly decide we must play. Some total tops get off on the idea of being "masculine," being in control or having power: You know how we men like our control and power. And some total bottoms feel like they can't be aggressive or they want to be the nurturing, compliant one (although in reality, an active bottom has a lot of say in what happens and how). Stereotypes? Yeah, but they hold at least a grain of truth.
A man I dated (very briefly as you'll see why) endured heckling from his brother about gays and only chose to defend himself when the brother made a joke about getting it up the ass. Sensing his manhood was mocked, he responded indignantly, "I never would do that." And when I switched from Girl World to Man Land almost a decade ago, I let my first boyfriend exclusively, ahem, take the lead because I wasn't completely confident in my newfound sexuality.
A friend of mine claims he is a total top because bottoming doesn't get him off and adds it has nothing to do with avoiding "being submissive." He would only consider flipping with a partner as an anniversary present. So basically my friend's future boyfriend can only be sure of getting a Benetton gift certificate.
Christopher, the author, came out 20 years ago in New York City, and firmly remembers position as being a non-issue. Most people weren't hung up on it and didn't ask. Magically, they let nature take its course. "It wasn't such a deal breaker and point of negotiation like it is now," he reminisces.
But perhaps it's our rush to peg people that contribute to the politics of positioning. Think about it. Many of us try to size up someone just by figuring out where he buys his jeans or who he's with on a dinner date.
And the rise of Internet dating and sex seems to parallel the position quandary. Most sites ask you to identify whether you're top, bottom or versatile, and so already you're putting your self in a box, as you advertise yourself to your metro area no less. And how many times has someone saddled up to you in a bar and soon tries to figure out your "classification?" I've been asked about being a top or a bottom before my HIV status or job.
True preference and personal taste are legitimate things. But if we're not acknowledging the mentality and influence that go into our decisions – and we're limiting ourselves and our lovers to one role perhaps because "that's the way it goes" – is that really making the most of our sex lives? I think some of us will eventually be like Virgil – imagining what we've been missing and why we're doing it to ourselves.
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