The night before thanksgiving I was settling down for a bottle of wine and 30 library books when the phone rang. It was a young relative in tears. Seems this person was chased out by zirs father in a tirade of bigoted, homophobic slander. I drove to the suburbs to rescue this teen, certain that the situation would rectify itself.
I’m glad that I can be thought of as a safe person to call in a queer emergency. I’m less glad that there are still people chasing their teens out into the night screaming right wing talk show ideology. Family values my ass. This man is spewing hate in the name of god. I will not stand for this.
Just when I was easing into a really pity party over my finances, my research, and my general well being someone came into my life needing help. Help they shall receive. I’m not going to sit by idly as some deranged man scares his offspring over the struggle for equality. This poor frightened young relative of mine has nothing but the clothing ze was chased off in.
I thought the situation would blow over but it has not. This persons adult guardians have disconnected zirs cell phone, frozen zirs bank account, refuses to return zirs homework, and has threatened to put zirs things out on the street. The adults at the other end of this madness will not even talk to me.
So I started thinking about all the awful things I have had to put up with. All of the hate, misinformation, hostility, bathroom unpleasantness, and downright fear that has come through my life because of God Lovers like this tyrant of a man.
Every time I experience hate because my girlfriend is trans I say “I’m gonna blog about this” and then I burry it inside me. The hate hurts so much I can not even write about these experiences. In the last few years I have had people tell me that my girlfriend can use the men’s room because they suspect her genitalia does not look the way they would like, that she can change in the broom closet at the yoga studio, that she shouldn’t be at certain family gatherings, and that she should not be allowed to exist. One time I was even pushed in the street after we were denied entrance to a Hollywood club. Seems I’m always in the midst of some anger about sex and gender identities.
Until now the hostility has been about queer adults in my life. Now that I am holding down the fort for this teen, dealing with rage and bigotry being directed towards a young person I’m so angry I could burst into flames. This youth has been chased from zirs home by adults that zir trusted. Why is family such a hostile and confrontational experience? Is nothing sacred?