don't. fag. out.

A funny thing happened the other day when I was doing a full day of workshops for high schoolers here on Long Island.  In all honesty, funny things happen almost every single time I do workshops for high schoolers.  Without fail, one of those kids says something hilarious, and it becomes a struggle for me to acknowledge the hilarity and keep it serious enough to be able to finish with some sense of dignity and respect.

For example, (and maybe my favorite crazy moment of them all) I was at the same high school a day earlier when I began as I always do by explaining the rules.  One of the rules is for the students to feel comfortable to ask whatever questions they want to.  We do this because it's a safe space, and it's not that often that gay people come to class talking about what it's like to be gay, so they should take advantage of it.  As you can imagine, from the more fearless and ignorant youngsters, this can open a can of worms.  In most cases, they ask really great questions about my family's thoughts, stereotypes, and the like.  Except this one kid.  After I stated that rule, his hand instantly shot up and he goes "Does it make you gay if you like ONE Lady Gaga song?"

The class erupted into laughter.  I did, too.  I quickly replied "Of course not!"  He turned around to his classmates and exclaimed "See!? I told you!"  It was clear that this had been an ongoing conversation amongst him and his other classmates.  It was really hard for me to get back on track from that, because that kid instantly became my favorite and I had to try to avoid giving him thumbs up and high fives every time I made eye contact with him.

Another favorite moment came the following day, when I was observing one of our interns as he did two of his first workshops.  I sat quietly in the back, which is very difficult for me to do because I like to be the star, and there came a time when I was mentioned.  The class turned around to acknowledge me, and one of the loudmouths (there's always one - sometimes two) asked, before our intern could continue, if I was also gay.  I said "Yes, I'm super gay."

"See, now I would have never thought that," the kid replied.

Quickly, our intern regained their attention and continued the workshop while I sat there flabbergasted.  How did he not know I was gay?  And why did it feel like the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?

First of all, I was wearing what is perhaps one of the gayest outfits I own.  I call it my "geek chic" outfit, which makes me one of the gayest people on Long Island by default.  Gingham shirt, skinny tie, tight jeans, hello?

After the initial shock had subsided, I thought to myself, well, if he had just heard me talk, his doubts would have been erased.  And then I started feeling all gross and conflicted inside about why this comment affected me so much and why I felt so proud as I relayed the story to my co-workers.

I've been told that I was flaming, or flamboyant, only a handful of times in my life - even though I can be flamboyant at the drop of a bedazzled hat.  Usually, if something excites me, or if music is playing, it's a dead giveaway.  Other times, I think I've been perceived as pretty middle-of-the-queer-road.  There have been times, like when I walked downstairs in my favorite purple shorts from H&M, when my little brother couldn't contain his shock and had to say "Wow.  You're really gay."  As if he hadn't known it before, in the days of my Spice Girls obsession, or when I would play with dolls while he played with trucks.  Or, and perhaps in the most obvious and embarrassing of super gay displays, was when my ex-boyfriend and I borrowed some of his KY jelly (he is a paraplegic and uses it to catheter himself) and forgot to return it in the morning... much to his grossed-out dismay.

I get told that I'm soooooo gay a lot more now, it seems.  Ever since I became shamelessly in love with Madonna and Gaga, it's harder and harder to hide my sheer excitement about everything they do.  Which, apparently, makes me flamboyant.  So, maybe I lied to the kid about liking a Gaga song.  Maybe he is super gay.

There are obviously some problems here.

1. What does gay look like?  Not me, apparently.  Unless I'm wearing purple shorts.  One of the whole points of the workshop is to list the stereotypes about gay people and then show how they can be refuted, and also to drive home the point that you never really know if someone's gay unless they tell you they're gay.  Whatever else they say, or act like, or look like, is bullshit unless they've confirmed to you that they're gay.
2. What's wrong with being super gay?  Nothing!  Unless, of course, someone wants to kill you for it.  Still - ridiculous, because where does the distinction come in?  Is there a continuum of flamboyancy (I think I just made that up and I think I like it)?  And let's just say that there is - what good does it do to make these observations, and more importantly, share them with people?  To me, it seems like a more acceptable way of insulting someone.  "You're flaming," isn't really said with much hatred usually (at least not when said to me) but more as an observation... which brings me to my next question:
3. Why is our world so fucked up that I can't be who I am and not feel bad about it?  
4. Or, conversely, why is our world so fucked up that I can't hear "I didn't know you were gay" and not feel good about it?
5. Or, perhaps more appropriately, am I the one who's fucked up?

I'd say I am a little fucked up when it comes to interpreting people's infrequent Wes-as-hetero-perceptions as compliments.  I'd also say that I'm fucked up because how could you not be in this ridiculous culture?  It's very clear that to be more masculine is to be more appealing.  Why do I see so many gay men in search of "straight-acting" guys?  First, we were inundated (and still are) with media images of gay men in the vein of the Queer Eye guys.  Now, slowly, gay men on all sides of the flamboyancy spectrum (Copyright 2010 by Wes) are filling up various media outlets.  But the masculine ones always seem more attractive and appealing.  The flamboyant ones are there for the laughs.

This little battle is always waging inside of me, and most often reveals itself when I'm dating.  I could really give a shit if one of my friends thinks I'm super gay.  But, if I'm dating a new guy, you can bet your Russian prostitute I'm not going to do the Lady Gaga "Bad Romance" dance in front of him until I know I've got him for good.  And even then, it will most likely be toned down (see also: not as good).  This is because I'm often guilty of being attracted to the more masculine guys (though that's more of a trend rather than a rule) and the fear of being found out can inhibit me.  Luckily, I have buckets of charm and a strong jawline to catapult me back into the manly arms of my lovers.  But, the fear is still there.

If there's one thing I regret about the whole situation, it's not that I felt good when the kid said that to me.  I did feel good, but then I realized how stupid it was to feel good about something like that.  I imagine part of me will always feel good whenever someone comments on my non-gay qualities with surprise.  What I regret is not taking that moment to expose it for what it really was in front of an entire class of high schoolers: fucking bullshit.  That statements like that serve no purpose.  In fact, statements like that dumb us down and insult our ability to understand differences in each other.  It simplifies everything by just going on our outward appearance - or our "gayer" qualities.

Another of my favorite lines from that workshop is, after we've discussed stereotypes, I say: "I'm not going to be the 1,000th person to tell you stereotypes are wrong.  We all stereotype, all the time.  The point is to realize it for what it is, and move beyond it."

Because the only way you know if someone is really gay or not is not by looking at them, or how many Lady Gaga songs they like, or how purple their shorts are.  It's if they tell you.  And in this crazy mess of a culture, you should be honored if someone feels like they can tell you that.

Just look at all the madness it brings with it.