Gay Privilege and the Diversity Meeting That Made Me Aware of Mine
A few years ago, I walked through a local park with my then-boyfriend’s hand in mine. It was a calm summer evening. Families laid out on the grass overlooking a small pond. A drum circle played on the other side of the park, its beats thumping as we walked along. The scene could not have been more idyllic. Suddenly, our moment was disrupted when a truck drove by and a man inside yelled, “Go home fags.” I immediately dropped my boyfriend’s hand and began to tear up. We got in our car and headed home.
This wasn’t the first time I’d been yelled at or accosted, and not even close to the worst of what I’d experienced. It also wouldn’t be the last. However, this particular instance did have a lasting effect; it was the first time I’d been attacked because of a clear outward expression of my gayness with a partner.
Even now, I sometimes struggle to show physical affection in public for fear of being called out. It seems no matter how much time goes by, I’m still wary of being confronted. I thought this fear, and the numerous other physical, mental, and emotional forms of abuse and discrimination I’ve experienced, somehow gave me a more keen understanding of my BIPOC friends’ and neighbors’ experiences. It probably does to some extent. But much-too-recently, during a company diversity and inclusion meeting, I came to a realization. Despite my own negative experiences, I enjoy a privilege that doesn’t extend to my black friends and people of color.
Coming to Terms With My Privilege in a Company D&I Meeting
Like many organizations, the company I work for has been reflecting on its employee makeup and the diversity and inclusion of its team members. Also like many companies, we admittedly aren’t perfect; but thankfully our leadership is able and willing to acknowledge that. Moreover, we are actively working to improve, not only for ourselves as a business, but also for our industry as a whole.
One small aspect of our efforts to effect change is the founding of a diversity and inclusion committee made up of employees from diverse backgrounds. At our first committee meeting, we each introduced ourselves and talked a little about our background, history, and desires for the committee. As I listened to my BIPOC colleagues, I couldn’t help but realize something about myself and my “diversity credentials” — something I should have recognized much, much earlier.
Despite my own experiences being discriminated against for being gay, I can never understand the black experience. I have a privilege they will never have, though it is something that shouldn’t be required of any of us. I can hide my sexual orientation.
The Safety of the Closet
Even though I am openly gay in a predominantly conservative state, and part Filipino in a predominantly white state, I can “pass” as a straight, ambiguously tan caucasian. There’s nothing wrong with that; but it wasn’t until this meeting that I realized I have, and often use, an ability to turn off my gayness when I feel uncomfortable or unsafe.
I try to be open about my sexual orientation. I am genuinely proud of who I am and try to convey that. But admittedly, there are still times when I “straighten up” if I feel judged. Prior to hearing my colleagues open up about discrimination, I didn’t realize how much I use this tactic in day-to-day life — and it embarrassed me.
I suddenly began to question what I thought I understood about discrimination, specifically discrimination based on skin color. No matter how much I try to sympathize with or protest race-based discrimination, I will never be able to fully grasp what it’s like to live it.
I have a luxury that those in the BIPOC community don’t have. I can go back to the closet when things get scary. While I hated the closet for the 20 years I lived in it, I now realize that having that closet door just a hand-drop away is a privilege that I shouldn’t, but do use when I feel at risk.
I don’t believe that comparing each others’ experiences with discrimination is necessary or productive — congruity is not my intent. I do however hope that my own awakening can help others who want to be better allies and advocates for blacks and people of color. No matter how much you think you know, there are always opportunities to dig deeper.
In addition to making long-overdue systemic change, I hope this moment in time opens us to listen more. Part of what makes the world beautiful is our different experiences and perspectives. This is what makes diversity in any environment not just a metric to be met, but a better way of living and doing business. When diverse voices are heard and their experiences used to inform decisions at every level, we all benefit. No matter how woke you may think you are, pause for a moment and take the opportunity to listen even harder — you may learn something about yourself.
