Handling the negative comments
During Pride celebrations and all year long
Dear Queer Abby,
It's that time of year again-- our city’s annual Pride parade and celebrations. While I'm excited for the events, I'm exhausted by the homophobic rhetoric. It's the same comments every year: 'Why do you have to celebrate who you're sleeping with?' 'What do you have to be proud about?' 'Why is there no straight pride?'
It's frustrating and it chips away at me. Do I respond to people when they post or say things like this? Ignore them? Witty responses appreciated!
Annoyed in Antioch
Dear friend,
I’m pretty sure every LGBTQ+ person (or individual from any historically marginalized group) feels you on this one. Here we are, existing in community and celebrating our authenticity in a world that some still believe we shouldn’t. Pride is about coming together and experiencing queer joy and expression— something that is difficult to explain (and trust me, I’ve tried) to people who aren’t a part of it.
The Phases of Clapping Back
I feel like I have run the full rainbow gamut in how I deal with the ignorant, the misinformed, and the downright judgmental. At first I was defiant and angry. I had no problem getting in their faces, yelling back, or blasting a wireless speaker with “All You Need Is Love” playing on loop for as long as the battery would last to drown out their megaphones of hate.
Once I cooled my jets a bit and realized that I was matching their energy (rather than having them match mine), I thought I’d take a new approach. I put on my former-homeschooling-mom hat and hoped to educate them. Surely if they could understand that sex and love were two different things, they would stop viewing Pride as a celebration of sex. If they knew the record number of laws, the levels of violence, and the history of erasure against the LGBTQ+ community they would see why we need events like Pride. If they saw the parallels between what the Nopesies did in Germany in the 1930s to erase LGBTQ+ research and literature and knew how that was playing out again here in the US, they would realize what a terrible state we’re in right now.
Most didn’t care. As I should have remembered from my homeschooling days, you can’t make someone learn if they don’t want to.
I tried to appeal to what they might have in their own lives that approximates the experience of Pride— how we all seek community with people like us, whether through joining a church, going to a sports bar that is centered around our favorite team, or joining Jeep meetups to be like, “Oh, you have a Jeep? I have a Jeep too. Cool.” (Side quest: If you can direct me to a sports bar that supports the Savannah Bananas, I may actually be interested in going to a sports bar.)
Where I’ve Landed
I feel like I’ve entered Phase 3 of my “how do you deal with these people” journey— I protect my energy and don’t waste it on people who are looking for a fight. If you want to engage in an actual meaningful discussion, I am 1000% here for it. In fact, I would love to hear more and ask questions. If I am judging them, then I don’t leave space in my heart to love them. That’s not how I want to live.
So instead, for people who are willing to actually have a discussion, I love to ask things like the following:
What makes you believe that?
Where did you get that information from?
Would you be willing to read something that offers another perspective?
How would you feel if someone treated you or your loved one this way?
The one question I’ve learned to stay away from is anything with “Why”. Why? Because it feels the most like a judgment or an accusation. ‘Why’ puts them on the stand to feel like they have to defend themselves. That is not at the heart of any productive conversation. (Also notice that many of the anti-Pride questions start with Why)
Why Have These Conversations at All
I am open to having these conversations for a few reasons:
I am now in an energetic space where I feel safe having them. It is challenging to address people when you’re in a fear state (as many of them are). You have to be the grounded and centered one to keep the conversation productive.
I genuinely love people and want to believe that they can open their hearts and minds, just as I and a handful of my family members were able to do. I grew up hearing the conservative rhetoric and talk radio. I carried some of those same ill-informed beliefs in my heart for so long and still considered myself a “good person.” Had people not had the courage and kindness to educate me, I would have missed many valuable opportunities to learn and grow.
I know that it’s the slow path to change, but these conversations are also one of the most effective ways. Talking one-on-one can be game changers, not in getting people to agree with you but may just turning down their rage dial so that you can exist without feeling like you have to defend your right to exist every day.
For me, my hope is not that they become LGBTQ+ allies but that they at least acknowledge that people should be allowed the liberty and space to live as they desire (*so long as they’re not hurting others in the process. Sorry, NotSees and Proud Bubs. You’re never welcome if your platform is preventing other people from living freely).
Which Brings Me To My Last Point…
Boundaries are always key to healthy discussions. It is important to set guardrails to keep the conversation moving forward, both in person and online. That may mean saying or doing the following:
“I won’t tolerate homophobia in my space.”
“I’m open to respectful discussion, but I won’t engage in hate.”
Block, mute, unfollow—you can control your social and mental environment
I applaud you for wanting to make this world a safer, kinder, and more welcoming space for our current generations and those that come after us. When you show up as the best version of yourself, you give others permission to do the same. Sending you huge hugs and wishing you the very best outcomes.
With so much love,
Two words: "Fuck" and "Off."
And if they persist, I invite them to suck my trans cock.