In which the writer incurs the not-entirely-unearned wrath of many

A lot of my friends are queer. A lot of my friends are feminists. None of my friends are genderqueer, but that’s mainly because I’ve never really met anybody genderqueer. I’ll be down with that person on the day I do meet him/her. There’s a lot of overlap between those first two groups, though. And I follow a lot of the people in those first two groups on Tumblr. And a lot of the people in those first two groups make a lot of posts about LGBTQ (is this the most recent iteration of the catchall acronym? I don’t want to think I’ve left anyone out) rights, LGBTQ heroes and heroines, and general LGBTQ business.

And I think that’s totally rad. Really, I think that’s dynamite. I am glad that these socially and politically marginalized groups are working towards equality and I believe with every fiber of my being that all humans deserve equal rights regardless of sexual identity, gender identity, or ethnic heritage. 

But a lot of my friends from those first two groups have joined literal groups, groups with actually really solidly clever acronyms that I (due mostly to laziness) refer to as “Lesbian Club” or “Gay Club” or what have you. And at those clubs, my friends have made friends with whom they can relate endlessly and confide and support and be unconditionally approved of and simply bond because of a pretty wide-spanning demographical similarity. Hell, half of the people on Earth are women. It’s a fairly common thing to have in common, and yet it has brought some of my friends closer together with other people than anything I have to offer. The relationships my feminist or queer friends have with fellow feminists or queers transcend so far past what I have to offer them, it’s ridiculous.

I am a white, cis-gendered, heterosexual male, and I sometimes feel really alone. We don’t have any clubs, there are no White Rights groups (wait, nope, there are and they’re pretty horrible. I’m not a white supremacist! I su-promise-ist!), there are no Hetero Union clubs, there are no Males United organizations. I am a man without a country, bereft of solidarity or community or compatriots. Worse still, I feel that my white/cis/hetero/male identity is something about which I need to be embarrassed or ashamed. As if I’m not allowed to be okay with who I am, and need to apologize to every person that does not fit that profile on behalf of my white male forbears. I feel like I’ve got nobody on that really fundamental level.

And I know that this is probably the most horseshit thing, someone with every societally genetic privilege handed to him on a silver platter whining. And I realize that there aren’t White/Hetero/cis/male pride groups because nearly every injustice in human history has been propagated by someone fitting that description. But then, wouldn’t that be judging me by the actions of people who share my race/gender/sexual identity? Which is awful?

I’m sorry. I just feel kind of companionless on that core level.

  1. stephendiagram reblogged this from postconsumerperson and added:
    This is really excellent. Read this!
  2. panserbjorner said: People don’t expect you to apologize for being white/male/cis/etc. They expect you to recognize the privilege that you get as a result of that and act accordingly. Your demographic is considered the norm and the most relatable. Like the default.
  3. postconsumerperson posted this