Ever said or heard someone use the phrase “that’s so gay”? Ever felt trapped in a body that doesn’t feel like it should be yours? Ever been told to “man up” or “act like a lady”? Felt like people had certain expectations because of your perceived gender or orientation? Last week, Out on Campus hosted Queer Awareness Week as a way to address and educate SFU about gender and sexuality, and to open dialogue about the misconceptions and barriers that we all face by being compartmentalized into certain roles.
As part of the initiative, The Peak and Out on Campus joined forces to find out what SFU students thought about related topics.
This is a lesser-explored format of feature for The Peak, where we compile a bunch of comments and stories into one big collaborative feature. Think it’s messy? Think it’s great? We’d love to hear your feedback and suggestions! Email features@the-peak.ca
What do you think of the word “Gay” as a put down?
“I have friends that use it ironically, saying “that’s so gay,” but in a tongue-in-cheek way. Like any irony, it’s supposed to show that you’re embracing the contradiction between your values (i.e. supporting the queer community) and the existence of people that don’t believe in the same values. But, no, I think it’s offensive.”
“It’s inappropriate as it is offensive to some. It makes being gay sound like a bad thing, whether or not the person using the word actually means it as a judgement on gay people. One of my friends in high school was challenged to say “that’s so straight” instead of “that’s so gay.” I think that brought her attention to how ridiculous the statement was.”
“While it could be an element of language changes, to allow it to become such means that we think so little of the people who choose it for themselves that we think it is out word to use.”
“My flatmate does, and I DON’T GET IT because she’s queer too, so WTF.”
“I’ve used it once or twice to try it out, and I have had friends who use it very rarely. Honestly, I feel like context plays a huge part in language, so it is hard for me to support a blanket statement about one word being morally bad, rather than just culturally impolite, especially given that language grows and changes. Simplistically, I agree that the use of “gay” as a synonym for something negative is a bad context to be placed in when it comes to power dynamics of the majority and the queer community.”
“A lot of my friends still say it, as well as family members. It is a put down due to the way it is used — usually in place of a word like “stupid,” or “lame.” ”
“I’ve never used it. I’ve heard friends use it in high school, but at SFU, not so much. I don’t know if that’s because university students are more mature, or because society itself is changing how they view the word. Whenever I see someone on the internet say “That’s so gay,” I reply, “Yeah, I like it too!” ”
“When talking with a friend, I casually mentioned that I thought something was “retarded. My friend stopped walking. She politely asked me to not use that term, and explained why. I’m not going to say that I immediately changed my habit and apologized — I didn’t. I belligerently questioned her about the offence she was taking. I accused her of being too sensitive. I stated that “she knew I wasn’t like that.” She listened to my arguments, remained firm, stated that I was being inappropriate, and that I was intelligent enough to know better. She wasn’t wrong. I stopped using the phrase in front of her, mostly so that I wouldn’t catch shit again. When I needed to say something was “ridiculous and of a stupid nature” in front of her, I exercised my vocabulary and found synonyms to get my point across. In so doing, I discovered words that didn’t negatively stigmatize others. Amazing. My faux-pas was very similar to someone else saying “that’s so gay.” These phrases represent an insidious systemic belittling of those with less power. These phrases find their way into our vocabulary, and we don’t notice because of the social allowances they’re given through complacency. The answer for allies is to not be complacent. I don’t feel I’m ablest, and many of the people who use the phrase “that’s so gay” aren’t homophobic. We’re not always aware of why we use the words we use, but once given the gift of awareness there are no more excuses. I learned: we can all learn. My hope is that people will think about the effect that occurs when a term for a group, and the use of that term as a negative, are confounded. If you’ve read this, you’re now aware.”
What’s a time you felt pressure to behave, think, or look a certain way based on your gender? How did it make you feel?
“When I’m around straight people I feel awkward looking as generically “feminine” as I do. There’s always an anxiety around new people because I know at some point, unless someone else has already informed them, I’m going to have to come out
to them because no one assumes I’m gay. While that generally goes pretty well, there’s always that chance it won’t. Conversely, when I go out to a gay bar, I feel like most people assume I’m straight because I don’t have part of my head shaved, nor am I wearing men’s clothes. I still feel like I have to come out in these situations, except now I have to wonder if people are judging me because I’m “adhering to patriarchy’s strict and gendered codes for how women should look,” or some bullshit like that. Look, I got the awkward haircut and attempted to wear dude’s clothes shortly after I came out. While I do like men’s T-shirts and I am partial to vests, everything else made me feel like I was in a weird costume. People complain about not being able to find a date in Vancouver. Try finding a date in Vancouver where the people you want assume you want the ones you don’t. Everywhere I go I feel like I’m interloping, but at least I’m doing it in skirts if I damn well please now.”
“I never officially came out of the closet. I learned the meaning of the word “lesbian” when I received it as a label in grade four. My teacher explained to me that it was a bad word and made my bullies apologize for implying such a terrible thing. When two of my best friends started dating in grade nine, my mom expressed that she had no problem with two girls being together but she was really glad that I wasn’t “like that.” Around the same time, one of my high school boyfriends explicitly gave me permission to kiss girls because it would “mean nothing.” It did mean something though. My sexuality has never been a secret, but I never showed it off. There was a boy at my high school who was openly gay and wore a tutu to class. I hated him for flaunting his pride and triggering the cruel homophobic comments of those I was trying to blend in with. I realize now that I didn’t really hate him. I hated myself because I felt like I could never be proud of what I am. If you don’t acknowledge what you are, then it is impossible to be proud of it. I am pansexual. This is me officially coming out.”
“All my life. Folks see boobs, they think lady. I am not a lady: I am myself, being told to be one way instead of what makes you feel right is wrong for everyone. It sucks.”
“It’s only at times where I am hyper conscious of how I am presenting myself that I realize how much I am censoring myself to ensure I am “acting like a woman.” Most notably, this happens in dating. I catch myself not speaking up when I know that I should, or putting up with certain behaviours lest I come off as seeming “clingy” (which is more often attributed as a negative trait in women). I rarely communicate emotions that are perfectly natural when you care about somebody: jealousy, desire, insecurity, fear about the future. Women are often criticized for being “too emotional.” Well, guess what? Yes, we are. No matter how you identify, or how you look, or how others perceive you, underneath it all, we are all brimming with emotion. Stop pretending to “be a man,” or trying to not act “like such a woman;” stop attributing each others’ emotional reactions to their gender roles, because we’ve all got them. Embrace it.”
“Any time I am out in public, I can feel eyes and questioning glances. Usually it turns out people are just curious, and sometimes want to get to know me because I am different, but there has been the occasional negative experience. I do suffer from some public anxiety; I am not sure if it is because of this or if my anxiety is only heightened by my awareness of nonconformity, but I can say that my experience has given me some distinct advantages. It is not always comfortable, but I am not unequipped to deal with it.”
