Pride: My Response To “What About Straight Month?” and Other Comments
Thoughts about being a cis straight ally
As Pride Month comes to a close, I feel tremendous joy and gratitude about the contributions of the LGBTQ+ community to my personal world and beyond. During this time when too many are comfortable with their open hostility toward the LGBTQ+ community, I’m thinking about what it means to be an ally. I’m remembering questions and comments I’ve fielded over the years, and how I’d respond today.
“Pride Month. Fine, good, whatever. What about Straight Month?” (Overheard in a cafe a few weeks ago, spoken by a young woman at a neighboring table.)
As I celebrate Pride, I respect that Pride Month is not about me or for me. It’s my moment to support others, and their moment to shine. Celebration for the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t diminish or disrespect my sexuality or my gender identity. As a white cis straight person — aware of the unearned privileges I’m granted every moment of every day — why in the world would I feel the need to demand a Straight Parade?
“Okay. If they want to do their thing for Pride Month, that’s fine. Then it’ll be over and we can get back to normal.” (Spoken by a high school student several years ago.)
Actually, in my opinion, Pride Month is “normal.” Regarding the other eleven months, I write for the day when we all have the freedom to shine equally, January through December, in our “normal” day-to-day life.
“They’re asking for trouble. I mean, the clothes they wear at Pride Parade — totally in-your-face! They’re inviting people to go after them!” (Spoken by a cis straight male.)
While bigotry is a sad fact and while resistance against bigotry is vital, I fully celebrate Pride Month. The heart and soul of Pride soar far beyond hatred.
“Pride can be celebrated out in the open, or quietly in the privacy of your home. Whatever you want is okay.” (Spoken by a gay friend, decades ago, who felt pressured to come out.)
During Pride Month and every month, I offer equal support to those who are completely out, partially out and not out. I respect without judgment the integrity of each person’s circumstances and personal style. For those who don’t feel safe coming out, please know that even if we’ve never met, I’m a part of your safe zone of acceptance.
“I want to be supportive, but my heart hurts so much I have to look away.” (Spoken by a high school student, in response to seeing LGBTQ+ students bullied at school.)
Empathy can be painful, which can cause good people to turn their backs when someone is being targeted. It’s okay to seek support for the feelings your empathy brings up. Being a part of a mutually supportive community can make a world of difference for you, and the ability to stand with someone who is being marginalized or targeted can make a difference for them.
“I know all about being gay. I’m actually an expert.” (Spoken by more cis straight folks than I can count.)
I feel differently. I’ll always consider myself a student and remain open to learning. Through the previous several years, I’ve become comfortable with the singular pronoun “they.” I’ve expanded my definition of “gender identity” to be much more inclusive. I’ve let go of what I now consider a rigid definition of a “female body” or a “male body.” A body is a body, and how each person defines his/her/their relationship to that body is highly individualized. I no longer view “male anatomy” as strictly male, or “female anatomy” as strictly female. The person owns the body and defines the body, including the gender of the body. I’ve learned to make no assumptions about gender identity based on appearance. I offer my own pronouns (she/her), ask for people’s pronouns, and accept without judgment. I’m ready to learn more, and I’m grateful to everyone who has helped me along the way.
“Those people (LGBTQ+) are hypersensitive! They get upset about everything! I’m not apologizing for stupid mistakes that shouldn’t matter!” (Spoken by someone who refused to use the singular pronoun they.)
Again, my approach is different. When I make a mistake, I’ll apologize. I’ll try to do better. I’ll never stop trying. My LGBTQ+ friends have been unfailingly patient, generous, kind and respectful of my questions and stumbles. They’re my teachers and guides as I learn.
“I have a gay friend! I’m an ally!” (Spoken by countless straight folks as proof of their open-mindedness.)
I’m glad you’re open to friends in the LGBTQ+ community. I hope your friendships are mutually supportive, fun, interesting and enriching. However, a gay friend isn’t a credential for you to pull out as evidence of your character.
“I don’t need to ask questions. I know everything I need to know.” (Spoken by a man at a social gathering. Do I need to say he’s straight?)
Once more, I’m approaching this from a different mindset. I welcome the opportunity to ask questions, including now. Anyone of any gender identity and any sexuality — do you want to add something that I’ve missed? Feel free to comment.
“I want to be an ally, but I don’t know how.”
I’m glad you want to be an ally. I suggest you think about your personal style and your skill set. You have a unique fingerprint as a whole person, and you can translate that into being an ally. Maybe that’s where you can start. In time, you may feel comfortable pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, and trying new ways to step forward. However you choose to be an ally, there’s a place for you.
Finally, my personal sign-off.
To everyone on the LGBTQ+ spectrum, I see you and accept you. You enrich our world every day. To my LGBTQ+ friends — I can’t imagine my life without you. I write for the day when being an LGBTQ+ ally is a given, when support and respect are inalienable rights, when equality is as solid as the ground under our feet.
Happy Pride.
