Listening to: Having You Near Me by Air Supply
I don't really like celebrating Pride with other people, queer or not; I prefer celebrating this special moment by myself. But in the morning of last Sunday, I messaged my friend and asked if they’d received news of a 10-hour power outage in their barangay.
For years, the [only] government office handling the city's electricity has continually been declaring long hours of power interruptions. This happens almost weekly. In poor, Muslim-concentrated areas, it happens even more frequently; up to 2 or 3 times a week.
She messaged that their district wasn't part of the blackout schedule. And as a reply, without thinking, with little money saved or at hand, I decided to ask her for a lunch date.
There's a lot to unpack with this log's description: Semi-closeted queer man's lunch with an inherently homophobic friend.
Here's the breakdown which I hope to write more on in future logs.
Being out and proud, unless you're ultra-famous I suppose, can never truly be binary or achievable in one declaration. There are just too many people. Much like identities/actions that are outside the norm, like say, being Vegan, it may be typical for queer people to declare our identity to new people we meet throughout our lives, all the time.
Being semi-closeted means choosing to disclose my orientation and sexuality to people with whom I feel safe. The good ones.
Why choose to still be with inherently homophobic friends? Because I maybe only 5 friends in this city of 100,000+ people. Back in the metro, I would have been able to avoid homophobic people completely but here, it is inherent in everyone, most especially with Muslim people. Few they may be, but I long for friendly connections too, introverted as I am.
I spent lunch with O at a pizzeria that's only a few steps from her home. We spent half the day gossiping, playing Wild Rift, and eating at one of the city's best pizza places. Since this was on the 26th, I may have discreetly celebrated Pride. But I kept it to myself.
O is the least judgmental person I know. She's bubbly, she's a great listener, a great Wild Rift player, and a great sympathizer. But now and then she says homophobic comments that "she doesn't mean to." And therein lies the problem: homophobia is deeply entrenched in the small culture that hurtful, homophobic jokes are considered casual conversation. It also contributes to my great fascination with Queer studies and its foremost tenet that nothing is ever truly binary. The world and our lives are infinitely more complex than that.
I intuit that she's known all along that I'm queer. I am a 34-years-old, single, with no girlfriend, after all. Or "gay," as part of homophobia is not studying and internalizing the names and orientations we discover about ourselves. But she likes my presence and I like hers as well.
All through out the afternoon, I kept giving her snippets and samples of LGBTQIA++ and GNC victories that have either happened recently or historically, hoping against hope these nuggets of stories play a part in raising her consciousness for the better.
It was a great afternoon, or as great as could have reached, considering the dark world we live in.
Thank you for reading.