Gay pride orlando 2018
My sense of purpose and hope are no longer tied to a flag fluttering proudly in the distance. It promised a world of acceptance and normalcy where my dreams as a person superseded my limitations as a gay man.īut I no longer have those limitations. I instantly lit up whenever I saw it, especially in a public setting, and it resonated with me in a deeply meaningful way. When I was in high school, I cherished the rainbow flag because it felt like hope and freedom to me. I am repulsed by the realization that absolutely everything the LGBT world produces reflects a singular and vitriolic political flavor I just do not appreciate. There is simply nothing for me to march for or against as a gay man. I do not experience the discrimination, threats, or social rejection that fuels their advocacy. But for the most part I do not see myself in the parades, protests, or social movements. There is a kind of relief in noticing that some still appreciate counter-culture expression. I enjoy the remaining artifacts of an era in which biting social commentary and intentionally offensive humor was celebrated. I find myself a caricature of what I used to imagine a Republican to be. I witness and experience hate, bigotry, and tangible intolerance typically founded on the flimsiest of assumed beliefs and outdated prejudices. Today I see a movement of exclusion, bitter scolding, humorless lecturing, and a constant state of rhetorical crisis. While growing up, I watched the gay world through movies, the Internet, and magazines and imagined an environment of laughter, music, and genuine acceptance. The growing intolerance of intellectual diversity and the move towards mandatory class and identity association in all areas of life has restricted what was once a uniquely colorful example of freedom of expression. More importantly, the movement tends to treat people based solely on who they are not.
However, today’s LGBT movement is far more focused on the smallest variation of identity as an absolute characterization of who a person is. This was the stated goal of the gay movement for more than a decade. Despite my awareness of my social designation, its really only useful in playful social interaction or politics. But outside of this, my sexuality is remarkably minimal in my day-to-day activities. None of this is negative, and I happily encourage the social interaction because it is part of how I learned to engage with my world. I can get away with flirting, joking, and certain mannerisms straight men are not allowed, and many women view me as an equal confidant and girlfriend. Even though most people treat me as a person first, we agree that I have slightly different social expectations. My friends, family, coworkers, and those with whom I engage online hold a certain set of expectations for me to happily fulfill as their gay friend. Much of how society views me is structured around media images of gay men, usually originating from “Will and Grace,” “Ellen,” and RuPaul. But by rejecting what LGBT is today, I am expected to forfeit all cultural experiences linking me to the gay community. I grew up with a generation of gay movies, magazines, online chat rooms, musicians and, of course, drag queens. Like most gays my age, I have a set of common social experiences, but I am told I am not entitled to enjoy or appreciate them.
At best, I am accused of being ignorant of my history, and at worst I have betrayed my own people while benefiting from their hard work and sacrifice. My life as it is today-married, equal, and normal-is argued to be the direct result of the activism I shun and criticize. I am often challenged to answer for generally rejecting LGBT activism with the accusation I am taking for granted what my LGBT ancestors fought for.