Today, I had an interesting conversation with a group of coworkers about normalizing the word “partner”– typically used for your significant other if you’re queer– for use by everyone.
“It’s common on my college campus,” said one of my coworkers, Katy, “like girls calling their boyfriend their ‘partner.’ It helps so that people don’t have to be accidentally outed as much. We just think that it’d be nice.”
“All of this political correctness is ridiculous,” another coworker told us, shrugging and grinning, “why should I have to change what words I use?”
A bit of prodding, and it was revealed that:
1. He genuinely believed he would somehow be forced into changing or restricting his vocabulary, and that the oversensitive LGBT community was overstepping its boundaries
2. He was primarily against it because he was horrified that for one week, one day, one millisecond he might be perceived as gay.
My coworker is a liberal arts professor’s kid, college educated in STEM. He was raised in a generation that has witnessed gay marriage be legalized in the US only in our lifetime.
Never before have I been able to firmly put my finger on the double standard that I see in some people my age: the idea that the LGBT community has gone from persecuted to privileged, but simultaneously and ironically find it undesirable and dangerous to be part of that “privileged” community.
And this standard shows itself to me… every day.
My coworker–who has already labeled me and all of our other peers as straight and cis-gendered– would do anything to avoid having someone wrongfully label his sexual orientation. This, despite the fact that there are minimal repercussions for him. If he used the word partner in front of a homophobic boss, stranger, or parent, it’s simple enough for him to whip out his wallet and honestly show off his girlfriend, to talk about her using her feminine name, to bring her to parties. He probably won’t be kicked out of his house for saying “my partner” instead of “my girlfriend”– he likely won’t be demoted, or threatened for just existing, because of those words.
But if I, a woman, ever publicly uttered the words “my girlfriend– my wife–”
Yet in my coworker’s eyes, he’s the one with a restricted vocabulary.
…All my coworker Katy said was: “it’d be nice.”
It’d be nice, if we tried to changed the social connotation of a word, because it might help prevent discrimination, harassment, and abuse. It’d be nice, to normalize and accept a word that would allow us to safely talk about our loved ones, about our weekend and our families, until a time when it truly is safe to exist as we are.
If your kneejerk reaction to someone suggesting a possible, lifesaving kindness is to protest “you’re wrong to force me! You can’t MAKE me!”
Well, I just hope you would consider re-evaluating why you feel the way you do.
origamiaround
janainaart
jbbartram-illu
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
2087
blakekathryn
