Homophobia hidden in many forms is, as much as we preach against it, still quite prevalent today in the twenty-first century. It is a common misunderstanding that homophobia died out within the millennial generation. The youngest generation, gen alpha, has the trails of homophobia still lingering. The ideals aren’t in our plain sight, they’re baked into our mind.
Since we view them as, for the lack of a better term, “accepted,” there aren’t repercussions for actions emitting homophobia. I do not want to say I am surprised because then I would have to admit that I am naive and ignorant towards what is all around me. As I grow up, the fog clears, and I can recognize and identify the problems that stand in front of me.
Just this past year, I was a chambelan for my cousin’s quince. For those who do not know what that is, it is a male companion or attendant for a birthday girl, typically at a Quinceanera event. An honor indeed, yet I never really felt comfortable. Which isn’t a rare thing for me because I have never felt comfortable being grouped with boys. Not because I feel unsafe or intimidated, but because I feel like I am a three headed alien. It seems like if you interact with me or acknowledge me, you are becoming a strange phenomenon just like me, or just like they see me. These boys don’t know how to act when it comes to someone different. As we’ve seen before throughout history, when something is different, our first instinct is to be hateful or judgmental.
A fellow chambelan in the court, who never really interacted with me, sparked a conversation about my sexuality. Did I want to explain my identity while I scarfed down my food? No, but I felt it was my responsibility to give him some kind of insight. He was trying to be curious while maintaining a polite manner. He ended the conversation by saying, “You know this is my first time having an actual conversation with a normal gay guy.” He got up and left the table, but I sat there dumbfounded. A million questions raced through my head.
Was he attempting to give me a compliment? Was this his attempt at being profound? Even still, to this day I am not sure. What I found interesting though, was how he had ignored my statements. I do not use labels; I have in the past and felt restricted. I told him, yet he bypassed it and put his own label of what he thought of me. This isn’t the first time this has happened. I explain it and I am ignored. With not just men, but everyone. There is another situation that comes to mind. When I was in one of my classes before, a fellow classmate began to question my gender. Another student felt it was his duty to try and steer the conversation.
“He’s gay. You’re gay right?” he said.
I was shocked. I hadn’t even engaged with the other student. I corrected the boy; yet, the other student felt that it was needed to interject. I understand curiosity, but it’s the way they go about it. I don’t think it is my responsibility to explain myself to someone, who in the end, is just going to use it to mock me with their peers. The men and boys I speak of are not a needle in a haystack. They are all around us. They’re our classmates, our fathers, our brothers, our friends, all of the above.
When I’ve complained or brought it up, I was ignored and dismissed. I have heard “boys will be boys” and “you can’t fight the world” so many times that now it provokes an irritation within me immediately. I know that I cannot fight the world, but why can’t the world change itself? No one should have to go through life being questioned and judged on the ways they express themselves or the way they love. We have gotten so far. If we stay and sulk, we are slowly seeping into the past.
