Perceptions, labels, marginilization
I live a “heterosexual lifestyle”. I dated and then married a man. I gave him two children, a happy home, and homecooked meals every night. The fact that I am heterosexual is present in my life, every day. While I may not be fully aware of this fact, it colors how people relate to me and how I am percieved in society.
Fortunately for me, the average person has no innate bias against twenty-something young married mothers. When I am in the grocery store, I am met with smiles. People I have never met before (and may never see again) want to talk to my kids and pat them on the head. My heterosexual lifestyle is a good one.
There are other sides of me, other “lifestyles” I’ve lived, that have had less fortunate consequences. When I was sixteen I went on a bit of a terror, I dyed my hair vampire red, painted my nails black and borrowed my brother’s t-shirts. I became one of those “creepy goth kids”. The greater misfortune was that this personal transformation of mine happened in concert with such events as the Columbine school shootings. It is rather unfortunate that a teenager who molds their physical attributes to reflect the internal isolation they feel is, in turn, isolated because of their physical appearance. My friends that knew me well rolled their eyes and bore with me. Strangers were terrified of me.
A few years later my “goth” look softened to a more all-around punk-rock fiesta, I had pink and blue hair and sometimes simultaneously pink-and-blue hair. I patched my jeans with safety pins and bought my clothes solely at goodwill. I wore beat-to-the-bone keds sneakers and carried my bible on my back in a hemp backpack that smelled faintly unpleasant. My personal heroes were people like Jay Bakker, tattooed punk Christians that didn’t mind getting their hands dirty.
I, myself, was a tattooed punk Christian. One could crassly call this a new “lifestyle” of mine, but I think that’s unfair. I think that the “lifestyle” tag, when applied to any aspect of someone, is cruel. Either someone is a certain way, as in I am a tattooed punk rock Christian, or they show behaviors, as in she goes to rock shows in bars and hangs out in tattoo parlors. Neither of those things are a “lifestyle” either they are who I am or they are what I do. Don’t underplay their value by making it sound as if it’s merely something I tried on at a certain time in my life.
After all- the fact that I have pink streaks in my hair or a ten inch long tattoo on my back (MISERICORDIA, the latin word for mercy) is not only an aspect of my appearance, it affects how people on the street percieve and relate to me. It tells you something about who I am, if you care to listen. And the fact that I married a man, have his children, live with him, have chosen to sacrifice personal goals in order to be a housewife- these things aren’t just a “lifestyle”, they are who I am. They tell you a story about me and my priorities, my needs and my ability to love.
Now- think about the people we marginalize with labels. We call someone an emo punk or goth, and we forget to think about who they are beyond what the label encapsulates. We call someone a sinner, or lost. We forget to think about every aspect of their life that moves beyond how we percieve their spirituality. We refer to the homosexual “lifestyle” as if homosexuals somehow do not have relationships of value, need and sacrifice. We talk about sexuality in terms of good or bad, forgetting the way it colors our lives.
We judge off of taste, appearance, short glimpses that do little to address entire realities. Humanity comes in a myriad of shapes, colors, sexualities, needs, occupations, backgrounds, ethnicities, abilities and desires. None of them fit neatly in labeled spaces. Instead they jumble up against each other frantically, like a basketful of kittens each fighting for the superior spot where they can be seen and touched.
This week, forget labels. Forget simplicity. Talk to the kid with eyes lined in charcoal long enough to define them beyond your assumptions. You may be surprised at what you find there.
M54 replied:
Please stop making me think! I was quite comfortable with my “life’s style” before I began reading your blog. Thank you very much!
May 20, 2008 at 3:03 pm. Permalink.
Stephanie replied:
Great post Lindsey.
“This week, forget labels. Forget simplicity. Talk to the kid with eyes lined in charcoal long enough to define them beyond your assumptions. You may be surprised at what you find there.”
Love the challenge!
May 20, 2008 at 6:02 pm. Permalink.
Vanessa replied:
Lindsey: Thank you so much for this thought provoking post. I never really know how to address the use of the word, “lifestyle”, except in the inaccuracy of its use in terms of sexual orientation. It makes it way too easy to compartmentalize a person into where another person thinks they belong; it leaves out all of the beautiful details in other human beings by doing that. I like your statement of it not being a lifestyle; it is just parts of who you are……. you are a pleasure to read!!! Vanessa
May 20, 2008 at 6:30 pm. Permalink.
PolitiPornster replied:
OK, I’ve had many of the same transformations over my life time and a few others that would only date me severely, like I once was a breakdancer, professional no less!
So you’ll have to explain the tattoes that’s what has me intrigued.
May 20, 2008 at 7:09 pm. Permalink.
wvhillcountry replied:
A really nice post, and a good reminder to not make assumptions without knowing a person. I also have tattoos and some people think I am a hell raising bike dyke because of them, but no it was just a time in my life. No more and no less. Nothing I regret but would I do it today??? Who knows. Thanks for the thoughts.
May 21, 2008 at 12:09 am. Permalink.
anita replied:
Okay, first of all in reading the comments I’m grinning because it looks like you have quite the growing little lesbian readership. Speaking of labels it looks like we might need to slap an Honorary Lesbian label on our little straight sister.
Ten years ago I was working a gig as a receptionist at a campus ministry at the University of Oregon and this young guy came in with more piercings than I’d ever seen. There was a spear going through his lip, another through an eyebrow, a double loop through one nostril, more rings and studs on his ear lobes than I could count and a ball bearing in the center of his tongue. A single thin chain ran from a loop in his ear to the loop on his nostril. His pitch black hair was spiked to the ceiling and his arms were inked beginning at his wrists and extending up to under the sleeves of his black teeshirt. His black jeans were sliced and torn and glimmering with the chains and studs that dangled from his belt to his pockets. Had I met this kid two years before when I was in my sheltered little conservative Christian world I would have labeled him a punk and looked at him with a dozen assumptions and none of them particularly positive, but fortunately I was meeting him now after I’d already been at the receiving end of other people’s labels and assumptions because of my sexual orientation. And so I initiated a conversation with him and we had this really wonderful chat for about 15 minutes. He ended up being the most delightful and polite young man with a genuine tenderness and sharp sense of humor. I would have missed out on such a nice moment had I not dropped for a moment my first impressions and uninformed perceptions.
Thanks for the reminder Lindsey.
May 21, 2008 at 2:12 am. Permalink.
jaklumen replied:
What’s wrong with creepy goth kids and punks in general? Some are great friends of mine.
I’m teasing. Seriously, though, this sums it up best: I had a couple of friends that were piercing freaks. Somehow, it didn’t really bother me much. If they took out their Prince Alberts or they simply fell out, I laughed while others winced.
Rebellion came much later for me– started in college, and lasted through those eight chaotic years, all of them undergrad. (Another story for another time.) Now, I close-crop my hair in the summer because I’m lazy, and I love my Doc Martens because they’ve lasted a very long time, once I replaced those awful stock laces.
I’m aware that image makes a statement. But “by their fruits ye shall know them”… to use some familiar Christian symbolism, yeah, you can’t really tell until you know the person inside. We have fruit in the supermarkets these days that are sprayed and picked for cosmetic look, and yet… yeah, I remember well enough that the outside of a fruit could look good or bad, but you wouldn’t really know until you cut it up. Didn’t it used to be that a few blemishes was just a part of the farmer’s produce?
I have friends that look freaky yet have been incredibly loyal, and I remember people that looked normal and mainstream, but were backstabbing, asinine, and petty.
I count myself very fortunate to be in a ward (congregation) that is pretty tight-knit but doesn’t really care too much about outward appearances. I think I mentioned the new member with tattoos on his forearms– people noticed quick a few were baby footprints of his kids. Then there’s the black single mom– well, we just figured she was a nice lady with cute kids. Now… it’s not a perfect thing– I remember hesitating a time or two, or remember members that could have chosen their words a bit more carefully. But overall, everyone has been accepting.
Maybe it’s because our ward boundaries are on the poorer side of town, and we’re pretty small. I keep hearing horror stories from the more upscale, booming parts of the area. Maybe prosperity colors people’s perspectives. Really hard to say.
May 21, 2008 at 4:31 am. Permalink.
Tony replied:
Fantastic post. Beautifully written, and so touching.
I grew up as an outcast during the post columbine years and had friends who wore the trenchcoats amidst the constant physical and social berations because of their choice. The fact was the trenchcoat became a risque fashion statement back in those days from films like the Matrix.
These days I can’t help but smile when I see emo’s. They look so sad and their whole appearance seems to amplify it to utter desolee. I just want to pinch their cheeks and give them a hug, mostly because I know they’d hate the gesture completely, but a part of me simply feels the urge to meet their theatrical sadness with an equally showy expression of joy and love. I can’t hate them, for I was a frustrated teen too once. Lucky for me I found a healthy outlet to express myself which allowed me to privately indulge my inner creative freak and sating that desire so that I could become a normal seeming member of society.
May 21, 2008 at 5:46 am. Permalink.
Lindsey replied:
M54: (((HUGS))) Stretching the brain muscles can hurt, but it’s good exercise!
Stephanie, Vanessa, wvhillcountry: Thanks!
Anita: Ooh, do I get a badge! I love badges!
Jaklumen: Poverty tends to bind people together, riches tend to cast them apart. (Heard that line somewhere, for the life of me can’t remember where…)
Tony: *lol* OMG. If you ever do that, have someone videotape it!
May 21, 2008 at 11:58 am. Permalink.
Brian Alexander replied:
Great post. Your always making me think…
BA
May 21, 2008 at 1:58 pm. Permalink.
The Green Witch replied:
This post is honest, refreshing, balanced and thoughtful, and I thank you for getting it out there.
May 21, 2008 at 3:22 pm. Permalink.
e2tc replied:
The older I get, the further away I am (in time) from the young person I once was – with the attitude, the shredded and repatched jeans, the now-cliched Indian cotton blouses, etc. etc.
Thank you for reminding me to look into peoples’ eyes, rather than at them. There is a world of difference.
May 21, 2008 at 5:56 pm. Permalink.
Leroy Glinchy replied:
I really try not to judge other people, but it’s tough when other people are always there to judge you. I am a white male who often wears business casual. I have, on occassion, gone to anarchist events. I always get the cold shoulder. This is also true in ghettos where I frequent. People always think I am to blame for all the problems in the world.
The funny thing is nobody has more radical politics than I do. My radicalism is in my mind and in my lifestyle, but not how I dress. I have a job because I have a lot of debts to pay from the days when I was not so bright. I like people of all kinds, but they seem to have a major problem with me.
The best part is that my wife thinks I look like a racist skinhead which is funny because I have married outside my race.
May 21, 2008 at 9:49 pm. Permalink.
Vanessa replied:
We so often as humans, are so prone to viewing a person and making assumptions based on what we see. Nothing could be further from compassion and taking the time to REALLY get to know someone; there is always so much more below the surface, as it sounds like for you, Leroy. I try to always combat the assumptions made about persons who “look” gay or lesbian; it really demeans the whole idea of what it is like to have a homosexual orientation……..
May 22, 2008 at 1:08 pm. Permalink.
goldnsilver replied:
I don’t really care about judging people by the way they look – after all the external appearance is a message to others.
If they want to dress like an emo, I’m going to think ‘harden up and stop pitying yourself’. Not everyone who dresses ‘alternative’ is a victim or original – many of them are following a trend and (as Leroy Glinchy said) will look down on you if you’re not as ‘trendy’ as them. This is very relevant on the gay scene, particularly amongst lesbians. My sister is gay and is constantly thought of as being striaght just because she isn’t butch.
Maybe its because I couldn’t give a fuck if someone judged me based off my appearance, so I really don’t see why others feel get upset about it.
Ha, I guess this could link in with your Shared Experience post.
May 24, 2008 at 1:44 am. Permalink.
jaklumen replied:
Vanessa: assumptions made about persons who “look” gay or lesbian
Well, yeah… it goes both ways, too… not so much assumptions about “straight” but “straight and breeder”. It’s not necessarily look and mannerisms, it’s kinda a judgment of perceptions of overall circumstances.
I remember taking my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese– one of many “daddy-daughter” dates to allow my wife time to clean up without kids under foot (my son was still an infant at the time).
I remember seeing a couple with a baby girl– young toddler age. Two women. Yeah, one looked “butch” and one looked “femme”, but it was the overall scenario that seemed to suggest they were lesbian moms, if you will.
Apparently they were on their guard being out and about in a primarily “straight” scene– they kept their voices low and acted very nervous the whole time. I wanted so very much to say, “You have a beautiful daughter; I’m here with mine… and I don’t care about your situation, you’re here with your kid, and I want to relate.”
But there seemed to be a wall. It really seemed like there was a quick assumption I was straight. Well… as you obviously know by now… I’m not. But there was no way I could passively communicate that– to say, “well, I’m not like them, I’m safe to approach.”
Again, that’s why I don’t like dichotomies. There’s either an assumption that someone is gay, or someone is straight. I’ll tell you, those of us in the middle, we get our own grief.
Maybe you remember that Oprah episode where a man and a woman married, had a kid, and then realized they had a homosexual orientation– and then found same-sex relationships. It was funny to watch Oprah say out loud she’d never heard of anything like that before. Too funny, because I’d seen it before, and I am partly living that myself, even though my relationship is a heterosexual one. It was obvious that they all still operated as a family.
Now, obviously, there is no provision in my faith for homosexual relationships. I sincerely doubt that any will be made. BUT… family is so emphasized in my faith, and really, I would just like to be able to relate, even to families with such relationships. I’m not interested in religious objections– I would just like to share the joys of a family experience with anyone experiencing similar joys, without any fetters.
May 24, 2008 at 9:17 am. Permalink.
e2tc replied:
Those of us who’ve been single over the long term tend to (I think) find ourselves struggling with labels, too – or at least, I’ve been in that position.
The older I get, the more I’m finding that it’s best to just not worry about what other people think (in a positive way), though it hasn’t been an easy think for me to achieve, and I’m still working on it. it’s worth the sweat, because I feel far more comfortable in my own skin than I’d ever imagined possible, and much more relaxed, too.
May 25, 2008 at 2:36 am. Permalink.