Loosing My Identity...

Recently I sat in on a panel of “non traditional” families which consisted of two lesbian families, a MTF transgender family and me. We were there to discuss our unique living situations and our points of view on what it meant to be a family. It was a very interesting evening which ultimately revealed what I already knew to be true – that though the outside package might look different, we all share the same struggles and hopes as parents and spouses.

Something interesting happened to me that evening, however. During the course of the panel, the moderator asked a question which dealt with comparing our families to the “normal” family dynamic. The moderator turned to me at this point, and with a smile added, “Your family doesn’t count.” It seems that my heterosexual identity and family life has been taken over by my work as a gay activist; my family has been labeled and re-categorized as being “out of the normal” dynamic. This has happened to me on several occasions within different conversations. I find myself being excluded in the collective “they” when referring to the straight community, and instead I’m seen as part of the “we” which refers to the queer community.

But am I - really?

Over the past five years, I have been reminded of “my place” within the queer community. Despite my obvious dedication, intelligence on the subject and unrelenting work for GLBT equality, I have hit the “rainbow ceiling” on numerous occasions. Upon applying for a job at a GLBT organization, I was asked during my interview what I would suggest telling those who would be opposed to hiring a straight person over one who identified as GLBT instead. After all, there would be those would voice their opinion that straight people shouldn’t take the few jobs in which GLBT individuals could gain employment in a supportive atmosphere.

It was a realistic question, but it was one that smacked of irony considering that the organization supposedly did not discriminate when it came to sexual identity or orientation. I reminded them of this policy and recommended them to remind those who might oppose my hiring of it…and the fact that if hired, I was obviously the best candidate for the position. Still, I am not naive. I knew going into that interview that my sexual orientation would be a serious obstacle. An intern for that same organization had told me to my face that while she “appreciated” my interest and work; that straight people shouldn’t work at gay organizations - period. “They will never know what it is like to be gay and cannot relate to us.”

I look at other GLBT organizations in my area and I know that there are straight people working for “gay” organizations…yet, I am also careful to acknowledge the limited roles that they are allowed to serve their employers. Having a straight receptionist, for example, isn’t the same thing as hiring a straight person whose job duties include writing policy, deciding on yearly activities and having equal involvement in the organization -but if you were to ask those organizations, I bet it counts to them. They have their token heterosexual.

I’ve faced more discrimination based on my sexual orientation within the GLBT community beyond that. A person on the top tier of GLBT advocacy in our area recommended me to the director of the Pride Leadership program which is being conducted by the United Way and Macy Foundation. This person felt I would be a good candidate to apply for a spot in this program, but I was rejected from applying because I identify as heterosexual. Perhaps I should have identified as “queer” instead? Would it have mattered, I wonder?

Don’t they know that “I don’t count?”

On the flip side, there is the reality that I have been re-classified and labeled as “out of the social norm” by my peers in the straight community as well. Beyond having been ostracized by members of my own family, I have faced discrimination by conservative employers. During one memorable meeting, my now former boss decided it was his place to point out that my “opinions” in general couldn’t be accepted because I was so liberal and extreme in my private life. I’ve had neighbors call my husband a “faggot” (for some reason, he is always the one who gets labeled the “gay one”), children have written “homo” in chalk in front of our house and our kids get asked which of their parents are gay because we have pride stickers on our car.

The straight community doesn’t know what to do with us…and the queer community will only accept us within limits. In some ways, I feel that I could closely identify with the bisexual community…not completely welcome or trusted on either side. So where does that leave me? This situation reminds me of going to my first gay bar. I was welcome to come inside and join everyone on the dance floor – but I was not welcome in the “back room” and I was the only one getting charged for a cup of water.

It also reminds me of the episode of Sex in the City where the normally conservative Charlotte finds herself unexpectedly welcomed into the NY lesbian scene. Charlotte loves her new friends and surroundings until she is uniformly stripped of her new “lesbian chic by acquaintance” label by a lesbian who tells her she’s not a lesbian unless she eats pussy. Charlotte, who does not easy pussy, gets labeled a poser and finds herself shunned. Ultimately she does the walk of shame back to her “real place” in society.

This is a strange place to be…or not be, as the case may be. I admit to being proud to be considered “an honorary gay person.” I’ve worked hard to be accepted. Yet it is very disheartening whenever I run into that invisible fence which is always there to remind me of my place. It worries me too that I’m spending my life trying to get the straight community to see and treat the GLBT community as equals, but yet I let it slide when GLBT individuals vilify the straight community as a whole. They feel empowered to make such declarations around me, because “I don’t count.” I don’t want to lose their respect or trust so I don’t reprimand them for their error…who’s the winner in that scenario?

What happens when they realize that I’m not in closet and I don’t eat pussy? Will I ever be welcomed back to my “real place” in society or am I forever lost in that invisible place somewhere in between?