GIMME A "G"

One of the unexpected benefits of writing a blog has been connecting with other bloggers and regular commenters, both on the blog itself and on Twitter. One blog that I came to regularly follow was “This Gay Relationship” by writer Rick Modien. Nowadays, he uses Facebook as his main platform and one recent post was based on an article I would have missed in the January/February 2019 issue of The Atlantic. The online version of the article, written by Jonathan Rauch is called “It’s Time to Drop the ‘LGBT’ from ‘LGBTQ’”.

Rauch argues that as an identifier of a collective, ‘LGBTQ’ will continue to evolve into a longer mumbo-jumbo acronym as it strives to remain current in its inclusiveness. Already, we’re seeing people begrudge both LGBT and LGBTQ, adopting labels such as LGBTQIAA+ and LGBTTIQQ2SA instead. Don’t ask me what all the extra letters represent. And if I, a (sometimes) flag-waving gay man can’t explain all the letters, you can be sure some frustrated, dismissive straight people will argue for an alphabet soup configuration like, oh, say, ASDKJ4IMA6%ATUIncOGHGN. Their version will be synonymous with, WHATEVER. Is it someone’s banking password or a term for all the non-heterosexuals?

To be sure, no one who aims to be inclusive and understanding wants to be told they’re disregarding someone by leaving out a letter. Still, it’s easy to see how the grow Scrabble tile add-ons become impractical. If I have to refer to myself as LGBTTIQQ2SA, I might just become selectively mute. Like Twitter, there should be some character limit when it comes to mnemonic labels. Five letters seems reasonable, especially when vowels are either absent or not in helpful places.

It’s interesting that I’m getting a lot of red squiggly lines underneath these letter clusters as I type them. LGBT is the only one that gets a pass from my version of Windows. Sorry Q at the end, sorry IAA+. My word processor, much like many average citizens, has dug in. LGBT is enough of a mouthful.

Johnathan Rauch begins his article by mentioning Frank Kameny, a key gay rights advocate who refused to embrace ‘LGBT’, instead sticking with calling himself “gay” in the broad sense of the word, including all non-heterosexual people of any gender. It’s the term Kameny knew for most of his life. Presumably it took a lot of work to accept himself as gay, the nicest term available back in the day, so once he’d reached self-acceptance, the term logically stuck for him.

During my coming out years, I remember the chatter of identity politics. It could get nasty. At first the ‘L’ was questioned. Why do the women need to separate themselves? (Notably, this talk never happened in mixed company.) Eventually, it became common—and reasonable—to talk about “gays and lesbians”. I recall many gay men being vehemently opposed to acknowledging bisexuals. They were dismissed as being gay-deniers, not fully out of the closet, wanting to hold onto some false safety net by continuing to like the opposite sex. (Most) people got past that. The ‘T’ also had a rocky period in being welcomed into the LGB collective. Many feared that transgender rights, farther behind in many respects, would blur or even strip away gay and lesbian progress. After all, it was easy for conservatives to make their adherents get squirrelly over bathroom talk.

My own sense of where things are at in terms of a non-hetero label is that, like my word processor, the general public has accepted LGBT. I see it in articles, I hear it regularly used by speakers. Tagging on the Q gets close to being too cumbersome or, to some, too politically correct. I’d incorrectly thought the Q stood for “questioning”, a term that particularly welcomed younger people who hadn’t figured things out quite yet. Rauch—and probably everyone else—uses Q for “queer”.

Like activist Frank Kameny, I’m at a point where I draw the line. LGBT or LGBTQ will work for me. I don’t mean to exclude anyone, even if an extra letter or a dozen extra letters are needed to technically welcome all. There’s a spirit in a term, even if it’s inaccurate.

Rauch proposes all letter configurations be whittled down to the letter Q. Not for “questioning”, not for “queer”. Just Q. I can see the logic, but I can’t embrace it. Maybe I’m too much of an old fart. I grew up battling myself and others in coming to love and accept myself as a gay man. My letter G just went away. Q, if it means anything, represents “queer”, a term I never liked. I always felt that more abrasive, in-your-face gays and lesbians called themselves queer. It linked with its lay definition, “odd”, while “gay” more appealing, connected with “happy”, an elusive mood that was at least positive.

Don’t take away my “happy”.

If Q isn’t supposed to mean queer, then does it become meaningless? I could counter Rauch and offer some other letter, one that hasn’t been used yet. Not C (cisgender), not D (demisexual), not P (pansexual). I do have a nine-page alphabetized glossary of terms and it looks like E, J, K and N are available. I’m partial to E because there was a time when E rides were the best rides at Disney World. It also marks the beginning of Exceptional, Extraordinary and Excellent. But, really, if we funnel the LGBTTIQQ2 spectrum down to an untaken letter, do we have anything at all? While LGBTTIQQ2 may mystify, the equation LGBTTIQQ2 = E invites mathematical nightmares.

Huh?

My blog pal, Rick Modien, suggests doing away with any letters, other than perhaps the all-inclusive HB (human being). To me, that’s Utopian. We’re not there yet. Based on our history (and some continuing challenges), we still need to stand out. We need to proudly identify ourselves.

I do agree that some labels seem ridiculous and utterly unnecessary. I won’t be starting a movement to identify GEs in the population. That’s because I’ve never been discriminated against as a person with green eyes. Technically, I could advocate for Rs or RHs, people with red hair. Growing up I was often considered somewhat freakish as the only red-head in my class. Carrot Top, Leprechaun. But then again, some of my childhood friends could make an argument for PWGs, persons with glasses, since they got lots of ribbing as “nerds” and “four-eyes”. And then there are the people who had braces...It could go on and on.

In Canada, the LGBT label and all its incarnations may not seem so necessary. Our rights feel secure but some hate still exists. I think “LGBT” was hard-earned, a much more civil term than words like fag, fairy, cocksucker and homo which I heard from children and adults not so long ago. I still embrace my gayness. LGBT can be used proudly. It shows a society has evolved but it hangs around because my gayness is both personally and historically a vulnerable attribute, not like the color of my eyes.

Tellingly, in the United States which often considers itself a melting pot, hyphenated labels are much more common. African-American, Muslim-American. The hyphens fade—people are more inclined to identify as Italian than as Italian-American as their rights of citizenship and their assimilation seem to be more assured. People who have no recollection of their own identity being subject to hate and discrimination fail to see the need for hyphens and letters. The people without a true sense of empathy, at least. (Yes, Ma, that includes you.) I didn’t live in fear of discrimination or hate as an English-American, a Scottish-American or a Christian-American any more than I did as a Green-Eyed-American. Thus, no hyphens necessary.

The LGBTQ community is not there yet. For now the label—with its character limit—should live on.