A homophobic neighbour, and another thing I’m not exactly used to
May 17th, 2008 by Rebecca
I’ve mentioned it before on this blog, but one of the things that’s thrown me off a little bit over the last few months is that I’ve suddenly started getting read by people as straight. Until about the end of last year, I’d been read as queer ever since I was old enough for people to start reading me as queer.
Now, in many ways, that’s a good thing - to not be read as “other” for once is well, kinda neat. The downside of this, though, is that it doesn’t act as a warning side any longer to dickheads to stay the hell away.
My neighbour in college for most of the year has been what seemed to be this really nice guy, who I wind up talking to quite a bit, even if we never really got to know each other. Last night, he added me on Facebook - at which I point I discovered that half of his groups were anti-gay ones, with his details stating that he was a Christian conservative, and another group about loving Ann Coulter to boot. I did a double-take, but there was nothing on there that suggested in any way that he might be joking. And I’m suddenly thinking - my god, how did I not know I’d been living next to a complete asshole for the last four months? More than that, I’ve never really had to give too much of a damn about people being down with my being queer before, but I’m gathering that he wouldn’t have been nearly so friendly had he known he was living next door to a trans dyke.
I imagine he’s going to find out about at least the latter part of that soon, because hey, I’m a mouthy bitch and I don’t like these types to go uncalled on their shit. Still, I’m so not used to being in this sort of position that it throws with me for a bit of a loop. I’ve never actually had to deal with homophobic people I’ve actually grown to like before, because I was always so visibly queer that it never came to that.
It can be very disconcerting to begin experiencing a social, cultural or political “privledge”. My ethnic heritage is partially indigenous (Native American). I have few visual markers for that heritage. It isn’t read as part of me. In the US, I was only aware of this privledge when I deliberately connected to communities of my ethnicity, where I stood out as “white”, not “red”.
Ironically I’ve been made more aware of my racial privledge since moving to Australia. The experienced divide between indigenous and non indigenous has been more pervasive and pronounced. Socializing with Aboriginal friends has caused some heartbreaking moments. I’ve been extended additional “privledges”: Being a immigrant of a desireable nationality (American) vs Asian for instance , being “excused” from an inclusion in the indigenous category itself, as a member of an exoticized, romanticized ethnic other (Native American) when I disclose my ethnicity.
Being trans identified, when read, tends to trump the extension of such racial privleges. Being read itself has dimisheded over time; connected directly, I think, to my own self confidence and self acceptance. I feel as “guilty” about this privledge as I do about those extended racial priveledges. It confuses me greatly. My life has been conflicted over gender acceptance since childhood. Now when I gain that acceptance, it hurts to know I have it. Perhaps for the wrong reasons?
I think you’ve put it pretty well - I may not be as eloquent, but that’s largely the sort of feeling I’ve been having lately. I’ve been very lucky compared to most other transpeople; I pass so well I’ve practically wound up stealth by accident, and that winds up with my being accorded far more privilege than I would have otherwise (het as well as cis). In a practical sense, it’s lovely, and I’m certainly in no hurry to start wearing it on my head - but at the same time, I feel really guilty that I’m being extended that privilege, and I tend to wind up confused. It’s one of the things that’s been bothering me quite a bit in recent times.