11/06/2014

Forget The Labels


"Where is it?" 'What does it mean?" "Did you see it?" "It isn't there." In English, "it" could be anything from a picture of Venus to the unmarked box forgotten in the attic that was found last night. In Spanish, the word "it" does not exist.

Spanish is a language that has a word for everything, where nouns and pronouns are either male or female, and where double negatives are grammatically correct. Many who can't speak Spanish, like myself, find this language to be strange and frustrating. Why can a chair be "it" in English but be a feminine gender, la silla, in Spanish? And why does the Spanish word "the hand", la mano, have a feminine pronoun, la, but the word itself, mano, be masculine? For that matter, why the heck are things given genders anyway?!

Growing up as an individual in the LGBTQ community, labels mean everything—as if they didn't already in the heteronormative society in which we live. For some, adhering to one of the endless (and unmentioned) letters of the LGBTQ acronym is a thing of great pride, myself included. To my dying day, "gay" will be my label among this community. And while I have been out for nearly seven years, now, I've found that I kind of hate labels.

To continue my Spanish metaphors, I, like el agua, Spanish for "water", am often (sometimes comically) mistaken for a girl. With long, kinda wavy hair, I am gay and proud. At the same time, I dislike the fact that Gay is occasionally, automatically applied to me by someone I just met, and this feeling worsens when a straight man jumps the labelling gun. On the other hand, it is somehow refreshing when a girl my age with an ex­girlfriend casually asks me if I have a boyfriend. Hell, if a guy my age asks if I have a boyfriend that's nice, too; has yet to happen, however, the guy asking about my love life or the boyfriend. (A little sidenote, for ya.)

Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, pansexual, asexual, trisexual, even "trysexual"—labels run rampant; they rule, they are, they never end, and they aren't always kind. Even our own stone tablet in history knows too well the cruelties of a label.

As I previously stated, I dislike the LGBTQ labels we adhere to ourselves, the label I adhere to myself. Reason being: they are a double­edged sword. Coming out isn't just the first time we tell someone of who we really are, it's a never ending occurrence. With every person we meet, we have the choice to tell them or not, and if we won't, for whatever reason, we are instantly drawn back to the age in which we first came out.

Aged 21, there is a quivering fear the moment "I'm gay" leaves my lips to the ears of a guy younger than me, and there is a monumental fear if my two words find the ears of an older man. The two bring to mind preconceived notions, the stereotypes known far and wide, and the fact that my hair is long certainly doesn't help to fight the stereotypes (using that logic, every rock band with long haired males are gay).

That bugs me the most, though, the stereotypes. Isn't it bad enough that I'm judged for my choice to rebel against society's voted image of a man? That I have never or will ever emulate the sporty, rigid, physically strong, aesthetically appealing look and persona of what a man "is"? I see other young men my age who fit the bill, whose muscle shirts showcase stellar biceps;whose topless torsos gleam with smooth, hairless abs and pecs, and dime­sized nipples; keep in mind that I live in southern California, so my overview of "men" is kind of biased. I think to myself, Yeah, that's too much effort.

And that's just what is expected of straight men, and I've noticed that the gay man's pre-established persona is somehow more superficial. (Or is this the thought of a happily immature man?)

Perhaps I should have warned you earlier, but I ramble. And if you hadn't guessed by now, image, as for most, is a big deal to me; how much it means is a fickle and fluctuating thing. To me, it seems that looks directly translates to what you can be called, along with how one acts, what one does or doesn't do, and to whom you may or may not interact with. This clearly isn't new knowledge and it isn't groundbreaking, but it's one of those things that I believe needs to be pointed out at continual intervals in the world of interaction, be it through an electronic device or face to face.

Not labelling, an incredibly difficult feat, can be a learned trait. It involves simply removing your own mind from your body, allow observation to be objective as opposed to subjective. Practice makes perfect, so it goes. And maybe, just maybe, getting to know the person in which you label. Oh, it also doesn't help to keep in mind that generalisations (AKA stereotypes) will get you nowhere.

Seriously. Stop generalising. How many "butch" lesbians do you actually know? How many "flaming" men frolic about the streets?

Written by Mr. E 
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