Don't Just Read The Cues, Understand Them

Okay. I'm not going to yet again talk about my love/hate relationship with the Midwest. I'm at the point where I'm tired to writing and talking about it, so anyone who knows me must be sick of reading and hearing about it.

I get pissed at the Midwest for not reading my gender expression and freaking out if/when they read me as a man. I know I look boyish sometimes. I even do it on purpose! But I do get really annoyed with the Midwest for thinking I'm a boy and then thinking it's the worst insult they ever could have come up with and apologizing profusely. Let's not even get into the inherent sexism in that trait. (Y'know, that the only worth of a woman is how she looks and I clearly don't look womanly and am therefore void of worth. Fuck You Gender Binary.)

But for all my irritation at being read as a man and then the following confusion and disgust when I smile up at this member of the public and my feminine is read, I must say, the other day I think I got it worse--or at least got something new and different to piss me off. It's pretty clear for most (it seems) that these people are embarrassed for me and obviously think I'm a lesbian, because what other women would look like men? So they're sorry they called me "sir" and then they want to get away because I must be weird and a dyke.

For all my complaints, I think I prefer the open homophobia (nothing pointed at me has ever been vicious or overt, just looks and awkward discomfort and never making small talk, stuff like that) to the absolute oblivion I experienced last week.

So I'm at work, where it's a safe zone and everyone is comfortable and we have rules about no hate speech and so many students come to come out and find a safe space and be able to speak openly about who they are, etc etc. A woman who came in last fall semester to get help starting a student organization and whom I helped throughout the year came in with another favor. She needs a place for her group (which has taken off well, good for her) to have meetings next semester and wanted to know about our lounge. I said I'd have to check into it and chatted with her a bit because I've been her student-group-go-to-gal with any questions throughout the year. I helped find her an advisor and basically just get started. So at the end of our visit (only a couple minutes), I took down all her info again on one of our message sheets. I got her name again, her phone number, her email, and I started to write down the title of her group. As I'm writing, she told me that she changed the name. So she gives me the new acronym, I compliment her on it because it is a good one, and she explains that she wanted to change the name because "the old name was, y'know ... gay."

Yes. With the ellipsis. No shit. And then she said "gay" anyway, because it was--in her mind--clearly the only option to explain properly what she was getting at. (Of course, I have no idea the true connotation of what she means, but know it's baaaaad.)

Really? Look at my haircut. I mean, really? But look at my haircut. Look at where we are. I'm not wearing heels. Look at this shirt I'm wearing at work. Did you know I bought it in the little boy's section? Come on.

And then she said "gay." In that negative descriptor way. Really? To me?

So yeah, it sucks to be read as a man and then have people look at me funny because they assume I'm a big lez, but dude, I'd rather that they get it and are open about their ignorant homophobia than being openly homophobic in front of me.

Three final points:
- Don't give me any 'it's just a part of the lexicon' bullshit. And don't give it to yourself either.
- I feel a need to quote the shirt my friend was wearing the other day: "Not gay as in happy. Queer as in Fuck You." (Situations like this are what make a market for shirts like that.)
- And finally, dude, a huge shout out to my Lovely Femmes, because damn, they don't have my haircut and they do wear heels and I'm this pissed after one misread. No, they don't get called men, but they have men hit on them. Riddle me this, what's worse? I know my answer.