Our town will be hosting a pride festival, so the other day I picked up a special tee shirt I had ordered, and a lawn sign to display in my yard. A few of the signs already on display in town have fallen to what has been attributed to teen pranks, but the neighborhood I live in may be quiet enough to not deal with such vandalism.
It’s a wonderful thing for our country to finally admit, after almost two and half centuries (I believe we turn 247 this coming July 4), that not every human being is the same when it comes to lifestyle preferences. In ancient times, men portrayed women on the stage because women themselves were forbidden to act. Women wore pants in the Wild West without being considered too manly, and a man in a kilt in Scotland was not at all thought to be effeminate. Nobody can know for certain how any of our co-workers, or the person on the street, started their morning. Some grab a donut and coffee. Some grab a joint and a bottle. Others punch another crack in their spouse’s jawbone, and still others put in a little quick pleasure (man with woman, woman with woman, man with man) and then dress and go to work, possibly having showered afterward or without touching a bar of soap.
In any particular household, the scenario at the breakfast table may be so different, a standard would not exist. One kitchen table may have mommy and daddy, or mommy and grandma, or dad and uncle. The child still boards the same bus as the other kids.
We have been living in a stew pot of variety since the dawn of society, and not acknowledging it has not made it non-existent, so it’s about time we call everything out into the open and realize that giving voice to those who are not clones of a perceived norm is acceptable. Those in the LGBTQ community (and their add-ons) are still valuable citizens and important enough to live their lives in a lawful way, in privacy and without harassment.
The pride fest will feature a variety of events to allow folks an opportunity to enjoy themselves, and I support that, which is why I purchased the swag.
However, I won’t be joining them, and not for the reasons you might think.
There is a commercial for a popular laundry detergent brand, featuring a woman named Alice. She likes how her detergent has a pleasant scent, and the voiceover indicates her wishes to have the same scent for her fabric softener and dryer beads. The next shot is of one of the stocker in the grocery aisle, holding up the product she has been dreaming of, and the voice says, “Say hello to your fairy godmother, Alice.” The fellow (definitely not a godmother) is a sallow and slightly overweight type one would normally see staring at a computer screen in a basement gamer environment, and he is dressed in an ill-fitting shirt and apron with a too-short necktie. The kind of person whom everybody glances at but nobody truly notices. One whom we would assume would spend eternity living with the parents. The bit is played for lighthearted fun, but in real life it’s not funny. I cringe every time the spot airs.
Some people like the stocker have experienced “the look,” in which a person offers a cursory glance and then erases you from sight as if you are not permitted to exist. People who deal with “the look” regularly are steps away from the level of people who have no home or hope and are never looked at at all.
I have known others on social media and off, who have similar issues. Of my closest circle of friends, only one is in a successful marriage, and the rest who may still be seeking a relationship seem doomed to only receive attention from men seeking citizenship or a substitute mother. None of the people in the excluded group I’m speaking of are anything but simple, vanilla, hetero individuals seeking the most basic rewards in life, which happen to involve sharing with another human being. The denial of this leads to isolation, depression, substance abuse and worse.
Unfortunately there is no classification for the unknown invisibles, and they don’t seem to belong with the rainbow culture which has finally been given a voice. It means staying put at home, paying bills like a good citizen and not causing a fuss. It certainly doesn’t mean joining a pride festival, because in spite of whatever credentials one has in life, if you are still getting “the look,” you don’t belong.
Just proves that inclusion has a way to go yet.
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