Jocks, Queens and Leather Daddies

Over the summer, when members of the Westboro Baptist Church protested the “perverts” employed by Cornell and accused the University of “trying to make fags and dykes out of all of their students,” the Queer Resource Center held a counter-protest. University officials gave speeches, protesters held signs and cheered. I clapped politely: while I supported the cause, the theatricality of rallies has always made me self-conscious.

One speaker got up and encouraged all “perverts, leather daddies, freaks, sinners …” (the litany went on, reaching a crescendo) to come out of the woodwork. Another counter-protester held a sign that said “love the sinner, love the sin.” The motivation, I think, was to relish in rebelling against social norms. Perhaps the intent was also to mock those norms in a way that causes reflection, but often these theatrics succeed only in shocking people.

I also wondered what leather daddies have to do with gay rights and how this became a core constituency, but brushed the thought aside until members of the LGBT list-serv started arguing about a letter sent to “Dear Uncle Ezra” over the past few days.

The student who wrote in said he was openly gay, in a fraternity and attracted to “athlete types.” He had tried to find someone to date in one of the LGBT organizations on campus, but “[t]heir mannerisms are way too feminine.” He wanted a guy’s guy, he said, and was frustrated that he could not find any here. This sentiment is often expressed privately but seldom confronted in the LGBT community.

Uncle Ezra has addressed this problem a number of times but doing so is tricky for precisely the reason that set off the flurry of exchanges on Monday. The spark was an email to the listserv that suggested LGBT leaders on campus organize more sports-related events and rename “Filthy Gorgeous” — a University-sponsored LGBT party in the Spring — “if you plan to target more than screaming queens.”

The comment was naturally offensive to people who have been teased and ostracized for being effeminate. It feels like friendly fire, the same sort of criticism that gays face in broader society. Those who may be perceived as “screaming queens” have to contend with the perception that they are somehow inauthentic, a stereotype (while pounding down brews, watching sports, and talking about cars is somehow construed as less of one).

In grade school, my best friend’s mother forbade him from being my friend because she thought I was effeminate, but I also remember feeling that I could not identify with the gay archetypes I saw around me. I did not cross-dress (I make an ugly woman). I could not relate to the rainbows-and-unicorns teenyboppers bouncing around me at clubs, nor did I connect with gender studies students who threw about terms like “heteronormativity,” “hegemony,” “performativity.” But I was also not invested in myself as “straight-acting” and I did not wish that I could just be a “normal guy.” I wondered where I fit in.

Of course many people born into groups with strong cultural identities face the same question. Men of the type who wrote to Uncle Ezra are faced with the task of reconciling their identity with gay culture, the expectations others have of gay people and portrayals of gays, both by the media and by gays themselves. Many feel they cannot relate to gender-bending balls and drag shows.

I think part of the antipathy that many “straight-acting” gay men feel toward “queens” is internalized homophobia; for some, it is almost as if disdain for gay people is a requirement for the “straight-acting” membership card.

But not all of it is. Part of the frustration stems from trying to sort out where one fits in and finds friends — and dates — whom one shares common interests with. In my overwhelmingly Hispanic hometown, I had to figure out how being half-White and half-Mexican figured into who I was. And I had to do it while being gay. As I became more comfortable with myself, I stopped feeling resentful toward and conflicted about the aspects of gay culture that I felt did not represent me; I didn’t need them to.

On an individual level, I think it is important for “straight-acting” gay guys to be accepting and supportive of effeminate guys. But I also think that that the gay community should be willing to contain the highfalutin queer theory talk and make room for different types of discourse. As a pragmatic matter, maybe leaders should rethink branding themselves as leather daddies, freaks, and perverts. Maybe men in Speedos should stop throwing dildos into the crowd at the New York City gay pride parade (as funny as it is). We are faced with the difficult decision of whether to trade shock value — and a certain sense of uniqueness — for legitimacy. It does seem ironic that as the gay movement has fought for acceptance, we are divided between those who want to be like everyone else and those who don’t.

Gabriel Arana is a graduate student in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at garana@cornellsun.com [1]. The Red Line appears alternate Thursdays.