On being a Fag
I hate talking about homophobia.It is an entire galaxy of ideas and scruples, grown out of a culture, that knows nothing better to do than to waste my time talking about them and their problems.
– or –
Why i don’t often post stuff about being a Fag, even though i own the word with relish and defiance.
A straight identified friend wrote me today with a quote attributed to Morgan Freeman: »I hate the word homophobia. It’s not a phobia. You are not scared; you are an asshole.«
In the same breath he let on he felt he was losing the daily struggle with the predominant social/cultural dialog.
He is a young man, roughly 20 years my junior, who has adopted me as Mom. He’s not my first and only kid, but my first hetero-identified kid, and i myself am impressed by the social and psychological hurdles we come up against. (but perhaps that is another story?)
Yes, in fact we are talking about a something synthetic, and not because we want to, but because an social agenda working against us would have us do so. That is to say: We preoccupy ourselves with “their” stuff rather than our own. That is the exertion of power over us. That is the (successful) attempt to make us subjugate ourselves to “their” wishes. That is hegemony.
As for the feeling of losing the struggle: Even though the society that surrounds me has devoted itself to other things, i have managed to an extent NOT to submit myself to it. Moreover, i have managed to infiltrate the predominant culture without its having neutralized me completely. You, my partner, our circle, our kids, our work, and thoughts, and actions are all among other things visible resistance against that which would make us nonexistent, that which would silence us completely. The fact that i am still alive, and i don’t let the world forget it, is my first and foremost act of civil disobedience, and my first and most basic triumph upon which i can build.
We have not lost! I have lived / survived to long to have lost, and this is a slogan anyone can write on his/her banner. I suppose the next question is, “Why live? For whom?” Simple! For the shear lust of being, and for the lust for the existence of those we love. Were i to die this instant, it would be too late to strip me of this victory. This fact conquers fear, because even the most elemental fear, that of death, shrinks at the realization that we have lived. And it is not because life was lived in vane, but because we were who we were and did what we intended to. In this way every additional day is a gift, and a clenched fist jabbed into the air. “I am unconquorable!” I am after all, a Queen.
Image: Queer anarchism: Andy_Gardner. On: openclipart.org. Date: 22 Mar 2010. URL: https://openclipart.org/detail/33205/queer-anarchism. Last viewed: 24 Nov 2014.
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