As per usual, I'm going to throw a series of loosely related topics at you with the expectation that you can keep up.
A few years ago, the It Gets Better Project was started as a way to inspire young LGBT people faced with bullying. I respect the intention. I do, but every time I've watched one of the videos I've had this sneaky little thought in the back of my mind: Liar.
As Anti-Bullying month rolls around yet again, I watch the various memes and images flying up on Facebook about ways to deal with bullying and yet again I find myself with a vague distrust of the propaganda. Yes, bullying has become and increasingly serious problem for a lot of teenagers, though I find the term 'bullying' too light for those situations. The thing I find lacking from all these messages of hope and inspiration is anything practical or useful. It's all well and good to say, now, children, we need to all place nice and respect each other.
Anyone who's ever been to high school - hell, anyone who's ever been a teenager - knows that's just not going to fly.
And this is the problem I have with It Gets Better.
It doesn't. It just gets different.
Yes, you graduate high school and move out into a wider pool. It's a little easier to find people like yourself, people who will be positive and supportive influences on you, and who accept you who you are. But those other people - the ones that want to tear you down because you're not masculine enough, not feminine enough, not traditional enough, not smart enough, too smart, too skinny, too fat, etc. - all of those people will still be there.
There is always going to be someone who wants to tear you down just because they can. Maybe they're afraid of you. Maybe they're afraid of what you represent. Maybe they're just downright nasty, mean-spirited people. Who knows. But they aren't going to go away just because you go to college or move out of your little town or any other change you might make.
I've lived in three different countries, and six different states, and every place I've been, those people have been there. Some places have been better than others. Savannah was refreshingly odd; Galway delightfully artsy. But even in those places, there were insults yelled out of windows, having to fight for a job I was more than qualified for because of my sexuality, being refused service at a bar for the same. One benign and silly night a friend and I were followed down the street from Supermac's by two very large and very drunk men who cornered us against a shop front until I spouted out the Our Father with perfect accuracy.
Thank God they burn that shit into your brain in Catechism.
I've been mocked by cops, banned from my partner's family functions, belittled, degraded, threatened, intimidated, just about the whole gamut and let me tell you - the stuff after high school was way scarier than anything they did to me during.
So instead of telling kids who are bullied that everything will magically resolve itself once they escape adolescence and just reinforcing how beautiful, amazing, wonderful, special, etc. they are, what we need to do is tell them the truth. We need to teach them how to handle it, when to ignore it and when to fight back. Soft and fluffy will only get you so far; if you're going to be different in this world and survive, you need to be strong. You need to be fearless. You need to be prepared for what's going to come at you.
Along the same vein, I've been prowling various LGBT forums for information and I have to say it's been one of the most disheartening experiences I've had lately. I'd forgotten why I started keeping my distance in the first place.
Because, sweetheart, and this is the really important part: straight people aren't the only ones you need to be wary of. You think there's this big, loving community waiting to welcome you with cookies and open arms? Try walking into a gay club as a bi, femmey transboy and you might as well just stamp PARIAH on your forehead.
The amount of ignorance and pure hatefulness coming from the L and G directed at the B and T (particularly the T) is astounding. It's one thing to just not understand the specifics (again, particularly with transgendered issues; it's complicated, confusing and varied. Unless you're somehow personally associated with those issues, you're going to be lost), but the number of posts in response to legitimate questions and concerns that ran from the benign I don't think it's right to the much more hurtful You shouldn't exist is something else entirely, and no less damaging than the drunk redneck screaming fag out the car window. In fact, potentially more damaging because these places are promoted as safe environments to ask questions, get advice and information and develop a sense of identity.
Then there were the more well-intentioned, but equally misguided, responses. One stuck out to me in particular, and if it hadn't been from three years ago, I would have added in my two cents. The poster was in a relationship with a transman, accepted and supported the transition, but felt guilty because she occasionally wished he had been born biologically male. That it would be easier. All the responses basically made it out like if she really loved him, she would be okay with it. 'Love will solve everything.'
Yeah. Right. But that's another topic. Probably for another time.
The fact is, what that girl needed to know, is that her boyfriend probably felt exactly the same way sometimes. It's normal. Being transgendered is hard work, and the truth is, it would be easier to be born the correct gender.
And that brings us back around to giving people seeking advice the soft and fluffy answer. It might make the person feel better temporarily. It might give them a little ego boost and a momentary sense of empowerment, but what good is it going to do when they find themselves back out in the real world with all it's unyielding hardness?
Not a damn thing.
If you want to help someone, give them facts. Give them truth. It's the only thing that lasts.
A few years ago, the It Gets Better Project was started as a way to inspire young LGBT people faced with bullying. I respect the intention. I do, but every time I've watched one of the videos I've had this sneaky little thought in the back of my mind: Liar.
As Anti-Bullying month rolls around yet again, I watch the various memes and images flying up on Facebook about ways to deal with bullying and yet again I find myself with a vague distrust of the propaganda. Yes, bullying has become and increasingly serious problem for a lot of teenagers, though I find the term 'bullying' too light for those situations. The thing I find lacking from all these messages of hope and inspiration is anything practical or useful. It's all well and good to say, now, children, we need to all place nice and respect each other.
Anyone who's ever been to high school - hell, anyone who's ever been a teenager - knows that's just not going to fly.
And this is the problem I have with It Gets Better.
It doesn't. It just gets different.
Yes, you graduate high school and move out into a wider pool. It's a little easier to find people like yourself, people who will be positive and supportive influences on you, and who accept you who you are. But those other people - the ones that want to tear you down because you're not masculine enough, not feminine enough, not traditional enough, not smart enough, too smart, too skinny, too fat, etc. - all of those people will still be there.
There is always going to be someone who wants to tear you down just because they can. Maybe they're afraid of you. Maybe they're afraid of what you represent. Maybe they're just downright nasty, mean-spirited people. Who knows. But they aren't going to go away just because you go to college or move out of your little town or any other change you might make.
I've lived in three different countries, and six different states, and every place I've been, those people have been there. Some places have been better than others. Savannah was refreshingly odd; Galway delightfully artsy. But even in those places, there were insults yelled out of windows, having to fight for a job I was more than qualified for because of my sexuality, being refused service at a bar for the same. One benign and silly night a friend and I were followed down the street from Supermac's by two very large and very drunk men who cornered us against a shop front until I spouted out the Our Father with perfect accuracy.
Thank God they burn that shit into your brain in Catechism.
I've been mocked by cops, banned from my partner's family functions, belittled, degraded, threatened, intimidated, just about the whole gamut and let me tell you - the stuff after high school was way scarier than anything they did to me during.
So instead of telling kids who are bullied that everything will magically resolve itself once they escape adolescence and just reinforcing how beautiful, amazing, wonderful, special, etc. they are, what we need to do is tell them the truth. We need to teach them how to handle it, when to ignore it and when to fight back. Soft and fluffy will only get you so far; if you're going to be different in this world and survive, you need to be strong. You need to be fearless. You need to be prepared for what's going to come at you.
Along the same vein, I've been prowling various LGBT forums for information and I have to say it's been one of the most disheartening experiences I've had lately. I'd forgotten why I started keeping my distance in the first place.
Because, sweetheart, and this is the really important part: straight people aren't the only ones you need to be wary of. You think there's this big, loving community waiting to welcome you with cookies and open arms? Try walking into a gay club as a bi, femmey transboy and you might as well just stamp PARIAH on your forehead.
The amount of ignorance and pure hatefulness coming from the L and G directed at the B and T (particularly the T) is astounding. It's one thing to just not understand the specifics (again, particularly with transgendered issues; it's complicated, confusing and varied. Unless you're somehow personally associated with those issues, you're going to be lost), but the number of posts in response to legitimate questions and concerns that ran from the benign I don't think it's right to the much more hurtful You shouldn't exist is something else entirely, and no less damaging than the drunk redneck screaming fag out the car window. In fact, potentially more damaging because these places are promoted as safe environments to ask questions, get advice and information and develop a sense of identity.
Then there were the more well-intentioned, but equally misguided, responses. One stuck out to me in particular, and if it hadn't been from three years ago, I would have added in my two cents. The poster was in a relationship with a transman, accepted and supported the transition, but felt guilty because she occasionally wished he had been born biologically male. That it would be easier. All the responses basically made it out like if she really loved him, she would be okay with it. 'Love will solve everything.'
Yeah. Right. But that's another topic. Probably for another time.
The fact is, what that girl needed to know, is that her boyfriend probably felt exactly the same way sometimes. It's normal. Being transgendered is hard work, and the truth is, it would be easier to be born the correct gender.
And that brings us back around to giving people seeking advice the soft and fluffy answer. It might make the person feel better temporarily. It might give them a little ego boost and a momentary sense of empowerment, but what good is it going to do when they find themselves back out in the real world with all it's unyielding hardness?
Not a damn thing.
If you want to help someone, give them facts. Give them truth. It's the only thing that lasts.
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