Growing up in liberal New York City as an "out and proud" gay man, the common conception is that I am fortunate to avoid the instances of homophobia that society is most used to seeing and hearing. Indeed, in many ways, I have been extremely privileged in my experience. My life has been largely free, outside of a few instances, of targeted gay slurs, bullying, and discrimination due to my sexuality. Yet I have experienced homophobia in arguably one of its most insidious forms. No one term can truly define or characterize the varied forms these acts take but, for the sake of simplicity, let us call them what they are at their most basic level: casual homophobia.
This form of discrimination is so often overlooked in our society because, quite simply, it is often ingrained into the mindset of people from childhood. I can speak at length on the issues of "locker room talk" (to coin an unfortunate phrase), the banter between friends, and other instances but, for this piece, I want to look in depth at the stereotypes we have perpetuated as a culture. At this moment, I can imagine the image of a flamboyant, effeminate, and stylish gay man is entering your head. In many ways, this is the exact image I want to discuss. One of the goals of the LGBT Rights movement, and really any minorities rights movement, is to increase exposure on the media. Whether it is integrating gay individuals or gay couples into television shows, positive identity on the internet, or even just broader exposure to the public at large media presence is key. It is from media that culture flows and, in turn, from culture that media feeds. Thus, media has the unique ability to acclimate the broader culture to different ethnic and social groups. The benefits of this are varied from helping to decrease xenophobia, increase understanding, and even raise awareness of issues. But, like a double-edged sword, if handled improperly this exposure can perpetuate already existing biases that do irreparable damage. I will state it plainly: Not all gay men are feminine. Not all gay men are stylish. Not all gay men are flamboyant. Not all gay men are promiscuous. The human condition is one that embraces diversity in every form, gay or straight.
One of the clearest memories I have experiencing this form of homophobia with this is at the end of my senior year of high school. While discussing plans for college, trepidations moving forward, and the freedom coming with dorm life with my friends, one of them saw fit to express his opinion on my future living arrangements. In a tone of pure nonchalance, this friend of four years calmly asserted that I, as a gay male, should not be allowed to dorm with men. After all, he continued, I could (and very likely would according to him) fall in love if he was attractive enough, making him uncomfortable to live in the room with me. As the statement ended, with very little time in between, I watched as all my friends calmly agreed as if nothing rude or harmful was said. Indeed, for them, nothing harmful was said. There was a logic to their argument. Gay men like men. Thus, they will like their roommates (and no straight man wants to be the object of gay man's romantic affection).
To be clear, my friends are not homophobic. In fact, I have found no group of more loving and accepting individuals than them. It is with them I gained my confidence to come out, with them I found defense from what bullying I experienced, and thanks to them I owe my current confidence. Yet they are the unwitting victims of an insidious formula. It is a formula that has played itself out over and over in the comedies of the 1990s. From misunderstandings between straight men to overt displays of affection that go unreciprocated it is a stereotype we are uncomfortably comfortable with. Even today, with the seeming LGBT culture war won and acceptance at the highest its ever been, we have stellar movies like the live-action Beauty and the Beast that portray characters like Le Fou pining over the obviously masculine and straight Gaston (all while displaying his flamboyant side). But, more than this, it is a formula that is often borne out of the noblest of intentions: to increase exposure for the LGBT community. In what has become a paradox of Hollywood and American media, production companies and studios often overcompensate in their representation of groups previously ostracized from the cinematic world. This, in part, has led to the rise of other well-known stereotypes such as the "wise old black man" or the "spiritually knowledgeable Hispanic grandmother" (though I will not deny the role negative biases also played in creating these images).
It is images like the sassy, fashionable, and sexually promiscuous gay best friend in popular culture that has led to me being told "You don't look gay," "But where's your lisp?" and yes, that I shouldn't dorm with men. But I am more than my sexuality, more than the stereotypes of a TV Screen.
