How do we get inclusion so wrong?

From the Buffalo Bills to Lesbian Visibility Week, I include it all. (Not really)

This might be a Captain Obvious type of post, but I’m starting to realize that maybe the captain needs to show up a bit more often on things that we seem to have lost sight of— the most recent for me being what “inclusive” means. It all started months ago when I volunteered to speak about my career/hobby/accidental happening of becoming an author to my son’s fifth grade class for the Great American Teach In (GATI). Because I’m in the early-stage Handmaid’s Tale land of Florida, I decided to disclose to the school that my book’s title was Perfectly Queer. I also clarified that I would be speaking about my process of becoming an author and not instructing on sex for queers. Yes. I had to clarify that I could exist in the space and not make it sexual. Anyhooha…

I was told I was not allowed to say the title of my book nor discuss what the book was about (which was quite clearly, obviously, what-else-could-it-be besides 288 pages of steamy lesbian sex written in overly-adjectived similes). Instead, they requested that if the students asked me what my book was about I was to say, “inclusion.”

*car tires screech in shock

Inclusion? Inclusion! I’m sorry, but what? They were not correct about it being a steamy sex book, however even that assumption was far closer to the truth than it being about inclusion. In fact, my story was the opposite inclusion.

Perfectly Queer is about contorting yourself into who you thought you had to be, out of fear of being excluded from your family, social circles, or the GATI. If my book was about inclusion solely because it is about a member of the LGBTQ+, then would we also say Rich Dad, Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki is a book about inclusion because it was written by a man of Asian descent? Would anyone say the theme of Disney’s Peter Pan is “inclusion” because it has indigenous characters (portrayed in a harmful and stereotypical way)? Things aren’t “inclusive” just because a story includes someone from a marginalized or minority group.

PRM… we can’t hold all the letters AND hand out swag. Photo credit: the super rad Sky Lake Johnson

There is this strange assumption that when we allow LGBTQ+ people or other marginalized groups to exist in a space, we’ve checked the box on inclusion. We get this a lot in the non-profit I serve on, Tampa Homeschool Inclusive Events (TBHIvE). Our original purpose was to create a prom for homeschoolers where LGBTQ+ students would be allowed to attend as themselves. At the time, most area proms ]for homeschoolers were created by Christian co-ops and prohibited same-sex couples or anyone who would not conform to gender stereotypes in their dress code. A girl got turned away for wearing a jumpsuit instead of a dress. Yes. (Insert strong side-eye from robe-wearing Jesus).

We got labeled “gay prom” and that label was just about right because it was the LGBTQ+ kids that were being pushed out of those spaces and finding a welcoming space at our events. Some took issue with the fact that we were an “inclusive” prom because they claimed that their proms were ‘inclusive’ as well. To them that meant, queer kids were absolutely allowed to buy tickets and show up… they just have to leave the queer parts of themselves at home.

And this is where our definition of inclusion seems to be going a bit haywire. It’s made me realize how much people assume that allowing someone to physically exist in a space means that person has been included. But have you ever gotten dragged along by a friend to their book club when you haven’t read the book, or a concert where you don’t particularly appreciate the genre of music, or their cult meeting where you don’t know any of the chants and aren’t sure what to do when they start drinking blood? You exist there, but chances are you do not feel included. You’re a guest in the space. You are not “in” with them, though. (And thank goodness, because if you drank the blood like you drink your coffee, you’d be working FOREVER to try and get those stains out of the front of your shirt).

Exasperated baby

Allow me to reiterate… allowing someone to physically exist in your vicinity is not including them, particularly if you mandate that they have to leave an important part of their identity at home because you don’t want to have to deal with it.

If you can’t picture what that would feel like, picture a Buffalo Bills fan being told that they are allowed to watch football but cannot wear their Zubaz pants or partake in smashing folding tables. What do you think that feels like to them inside? Chances are, they would still watch the game, but they’d probably grumble whilst eat their wings and drinking their Labbatt Blue. Existence is not inclusion and when you only allow people to exist, they cannot show up as their biggest, brightest, best Buffalonian selves.

Back to gay prom… we quickly realized that if we were going to call ourselves an “inclusive” event organization, then we had to start looking for who else was facing a barrier to showing up fully in our space. We also started to look for who was staying home because the events weren’t accessible to their needs or safety. We began to pay more attention to accessibility ramps and bathrooms. We adjusted lighting and changed our table layout so students with impaired vision could more safely navigate the area. We bought ear plugs and created quiet areas for our neurodivergent students who needed a reduction in stimuli. We offered scholarships and reduced ticket prices for students with financial needs. We even had an American Sign Language (ASL) interpreter at an event to share announcements and what song was playing. We reached out to our local BIPOC homeschool group and local religious co-ops to let them know that they were welcome with us. We realized that we had private school and public school students in our area, too, who needed a place that felt safe for them to show up as themselves. Basically, if you were a high schoolers in the Tampa Bay area, you were in with us.

Quietish

Did we get backlash? Not much. Nobody went off the inclusion deep-end and asked if their 3 year old or 86 year old family member could attend. Nobody asked if their pet iguanas could be included? Nobody tried to buy a ticket for an adult that recently escaped incarceration and wanted to party.

Did we occasionally get the middle schooler or graduated high school who wanted to sneak in? Sure. If they didn’t meet the age/grade parameters on attending, they were not included. Gasp. I know. We still had some rules and that’s okay.

And here’s where people go off the fear-based deep end with inclusion. The feel like if we let people show up as their authentic selves and support them with the unique needs they may have, then suddenly we’re allowing total social anarchy. Like suddenly people will show up wearing only toilet paper or playing polka on their accordion in the middle of the dance floor. They act as if including everyone means we can only serve water because someone could be allergic to every ingredient out there… though there are people allergic to water, so maybe we just need to serve sterile air.

That has not been our experience with creating inclusive events. What we’ve found is that more often than not, when we create the space for people to show up, people do so respectfully and don’t abuse the rules we have in place.

Inclusion doesn’t mean “Anyone can do anything they want to at any time and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Inclusion says “Hey, I see you. I recognize your needs. And here’s the space I’ve made for you.” It’s a kindness and thoughtfulness that is often reciprocated.

Bills lesbians in love

Now we are on the cusp of another big week were the line of inclusion is always questioned— Lesbian Visibility Week. I’ve been delighted and proud to join members of the Curve Community, queer women and people from across the North American continent, to generate ideas and coordinate events. I’ll admit I didn’t fully grasp the importance of Lesbian Visibility Week at first. (The reality is that most lesbians in my circle are nesting introverts who prefer staying home in sweatpants and ordering Thai food over being visible to anyone).

But then I remembered that I was a whopping 24 years old the first time I met an “out” lesbian and heard the word “lesbian” used in a non-negative sense. In fact, according to the Lesbian Visibility Week USA site, two thirds of lesbians delay coming out due to harmful stereotypes. I want future generations to have it better.

The first question of Lesbian Visibility Week is often “who gets to celebrate Lesbian Visibility Week?” You’d think it would be pretty straightforward (drat, I really can’t think of another word), except that the purpose of the week is more than just cisgender women who are solely attracted to cisgender women.

Someone asked if trans women are included. Of course! The event is for lesbians and some trans women identify as lesbian. Easy. What about non-binary or agender folks? Sure, if that’s how they identify. Bisexual, pansexual, or asexual folks? Yes, we celebrate you too. Wait?! I thought you said this was LESBIAN visibility week, so why does every label get a seat at the table?

Unified… and maybe slightly uniform.

The way we acknowledge Lesbian Visibility Week according to the USA website is to “celebrate lesbians and show solidarity with all LGBTQ+ women and non-binary people in our community. We believe in unity and lifting up those who are most marginalized.”

See how we did that?! We can recognize that this week is for anyone who identifies as a lesbian AND ALSO we can make space for others who also need support and may be an even smaller or even more marginalized population. Do I become less of a lesbian because of anyone else also celebrating the week that isn’t exactly like me? Not one bit. In fact, this year’s theme is “Unified, Not Uniform” and I think it’s just perfect!

Allowing someone to simply exist in a space is like a dry-docked party boat. It’s not having fun and it’s going nowhere. But when we’re inclusive, truly inclusive, we become the tide where all ships (and party boats) in the water can rise together.

Want to know more about Lesbian Visibility Week (even if you don’t identify as a lesbian)?

• Visit the Lesbian Visibility Week USA website for information on the history and meaning of this movement.

• See the events going on across the United States from April 22-29, including my virtual event “The Power of Telling Your Story” on Wednesday, April 24 from 8-9pm ET with fellow memoirists, Jen Berlingo and Melissa Giberson. Moderated by Club Lilles founder and podcast host, Jaime Messina.