Synonymity:

The Sexual, The Oppressive and the optical ally

Jasper Hudson

he/him

@jasperhudson

Artworks by Cooper Donald McDonald @coopdmcdonald

CW: Discussions of sexual violence

We are frequently told of the societal progression and acceptance of queer individuals and reminded of what the queer community stands for. Large corporations routinely incorporate queer iconography into branding, gay marriage has become legalised, and those in the media occasionally align themselves with “our cause”. This piece is by no means intended to reiterate the obvious, but discuss the way in which queer acceptance has been not only trivialised by those who fail to embrace it, but by those that claim to support our experience.

The exempt or optical ally and the blatant discriminator are not dissimilar, if anything, an ally who takes a passive role is an even more insidious object to reckon with. Inclusion, particularly in progressive regions such as the Inner North of Melbourne, is encouraged and generally widespread. Yet, both blatant and veiled aggression still occur recurrently each and every day. Reminding ourselves of this is, I believe, the way in which we can engage with and disseminate true actions of change.

Society seems to bear the queer flag on every street corner, our identity is broadcast in all sorts of ways, yet, how often are those creating these ‘supportive’ frameworks living the queer experience? Are our voices as elevated as we are told?

To effectively break down the experiences myself, and others continue to live, I break the piece into three main elements. The Sexual Being, The Stereotypical Abuser and The Exempt Ally. Understanding the intertwined relationship of these concepts should help the readership understand my experience in greater detail.

THE SEXUAL BEING

The sexual and the bodily form, both queer and heterosexual are in a constant state of flux. Attempting to understand this relationship is ongoing, but up to this point, it has allowed me to conceptualise my libido, sexual preference and view of myself and my bodily form.

Sex serves me as a tool that brings great pleasure and joy, but also allows for emotional regulation, and at times has allowed for detachment from the realities of existing in a heteronormative society. Queer sexuality, as a transgressive act, has been in part, affected by the responses we receive from a heteronormative society, in conjunction with the dynamics within the queer community. External and internal forces have created an air of queer synonymity with the sexual, to both positive and negative avail.

Queerness is unique to each individual irregardless of where one sits within the community, it cannot be pathologised or reappropriated by those who are alien to the queer experience.

Reinforcing my connection to the sexual form has allowed me to counteract the subordination I have and continue to experience - even if sexual assertion occurs predominantly in the private sphere. Fostering the sexual components of my identity has allowed for internal normalisation of the queer body.

It is important to note the bond between the bodily form and the sexual to understand the multifaceted nature of the stories I am about to share.

THE STEREOTYPICAL ABUSER - The Blatant

A reminder of the blatant, or stereotypical abuser of the queer form. Acts of overt discriminiation, obvious hate crimes and the use of demeaning slurs. Though such acts demonstrate homophobia in its element, many of us, including myself, can forget its prevalence in a comfortable society, due to our privilege.

Earlier this year I decided to venture to Geelong to take my mind away from the flurry of emotions that arose from the strict stage four lockdowns of 2020. Venturing down south seemed like a pretty straightforward feat.

It was 50 minutes from my home, so I thought it would surely bear resemblances to the Victorian life I have become accustomed to. At worst, I was preparing myself for the occasional side eye, or other veiled acts of intolerance, this was far from the case, and if anything it was to be a grounding to experience.

The Geelong foreshore is littered with pubs of all breeds, classic Australian, influencer haven, or upmarket Bistro. Heading to our first venue of the night, I was denied entry for my sense of dress. To give context, I was dressed in a pair of black dress pants, Nike sneakers, and a plain black singlet.

Upon questioning the security guard as to how I was inappropriately dressed, he failed to give a response. Thankfully, at this moment, a kind man in front of me offered me his shirt. A small gesture which helped bolster my self worth in the moment.

Even in covering what little amount of skin I had showing, I was told that unless it was fully buttoned up, I would be removed from the venue. Looking behind me, other patrons lined up were dressed in scrappy tee-shirts, board shorts, and havaianas, far from what many would deem ‘appropriate dress’.

As insignificant as this may seem, I couldn’t help but question the other factors that could’ve caused this to happen.

Was it my earrings?

The subtle smudge of revlon eyeliner?

The contrapposto of my stance, or the pitch of my voice as I spoke to the bouncer?

I knew this was not a matter of improper dress - it was a clear cut act of intolerance.

I had been reminded of my incongruity with my context. Acquired neural pathways allowed me to view this experience as another anomaly of homophobia, I had gone into a state aimed at protecting the physical and the psychological.

The next venue: BLOOM

‘FUCKING FAGGOT’

‘HOW DISGUSTING IS THAT’

‘YOU RIGHT, POOFTA’

These are some of the comments I recall - my greetings of the night.

Many others were thrown at me and they elude my memory.

Yet I’m sure they’re buried away somewhere in my subconscious - ready to resurface at any moment.

Each time a hatefully charged word is thrown my way, I find myself falling inwards, questioning my choices as a queer person, how I perceive myself and ultimately, how I am going to respond to the situation then and there.

At times, retaliation crosses my mind.

Fight?

Flight?

The default however is stasis, a shutdown.

Freeze.

Cis-gendered straight men dancing on you, sending you kissing gestures, throwing slurs, pushing you into a urinal instigates the primal amygdala response, run or you will be harmed.

Clear cut examples of marginalisation, and objectification continue to occur all around us, not just in Geelong. I have had similar experiences such as this occur in the very heart of Fitzroy North, a purported safe haven.

Reminding ourselves of the true stagnation of progression is vital when supporting queer friends, or if you consider yourselves an ally to the Queer community.

It is probably ironic in some sense that I am sharing these stories with those who live within the same echo-chamber as I do. And, it is easy to assume that those around us, ‘know better’, ‘understand the experience’ and ‘understand the prejudice’.

But this is not always the case.

Passive engagement with Queer discourses is widespread, despite our geographical region and epoch. These experiences are a sombre reminder of the seclusion of acceptance, the assumption by many within society that change is occurring at an acceptable rate. This leads me onto the next section of this rambling, the exempt ally complex.

THE EXEMPT ALLY COMPLEX - The Optical

Preface: I feel incredibly privileged to be surrounded by friends and family who have and continue to validate and support my experience as a queer person and this is by no means intended to criticise genuine allies of my community, or those who have and continue to demonstrate support.

Optical-allyship, a case of objectification by an ally. A reminder of the mutable voice of a queer person.

Heterosexual men hold a fickle place in my life.

They have, and many continue to be my oppressor, but many have also acted as a lamentably vital source of patriarchal validation, a kind of pilot light of my gay self esteem.

Cisgendered, heterosexual allies prevail in areas such as the Inner North, to both positive and negative consequence. At times, politicised discussion has outweighed my experience, and I would assume the experience of many other people around me, but it is a form of support nonetheless.

Such allies may often be on board with the theory of our existence, but when it boils down to it, many perpetrate the same acts of violence demonstrated by blatant homophobes, in manners that are hidden or micro-aggressional. This form of micro-aggressive violence is harder to outline, harder to profile.

Objectification by an ally, a friend.

Like every queer, POC, or female, I am forcibly growing accustomed to bodily objectification. This friend was heterosexual, highly educated, charming and, was someone I believed to be a true ally. Over time, the libindal charge of our relationship began to grow.

Subtle moments of eye contact.

A sexual intention behind our touch.

A sexual pretence had rooted itself in our relationship.

Initially viewing this bond as a fragile form of validation, I let it continue, I condoned his behaviour which many would see as demeaning or objectifying.

One night this friend overstepped the unspoken boundaries in place.

He put his hands down my pants, more than once.

A nonconsensual violation of our relationship and my body transpired. The safety I felt in his presence was instantly shattered.

It immediately evoked a kind of self inflicted guilt and shame, what I now know to be common responses to experiences of sexual violence. The shame associated with the experience began to amalgamate with the shame that comes with being gay.

The experience triggered a momentary regression back to a time when the term ‘gay’ couldn’t fuse with my conscious mind. Tireless rationalisation as to why I wasn’t ‘gay’, how I could avoid all connotations of the word, particularly the sexual. The impact of this shame veered me away from calling him out, I began to interrogate myself.

Questions that flowed through the mind.

Is my love of sex the reason this happened?

Did my previous engagement in this pseudo-romantic relationship give him the impression I wanted that?

Did I unknowingly give off a sexual sign that encouraged him to do this?

Was this an instance of miscommunication? Or a projection of the idea that gay men and queer people are hyper-sexual beings? After all, the gay and the queer are often seen as synonomous with the sexual.

I am told as a gay man, and a queer person via the media, pathologized statistics and even our community, that sex is a hallmark of our identity.

With time and reflection I realised that this act was a demonstration of a conscience-eased ally. They believed they were ‘accepting’, ‘understanding’, or even incapable of acting in ways that were damaging. Yet, their actions were not dissimilar to those who have no qualms in defiling the identity and community I align myself with.

Acts of objectification and fetishisation.

Prior discussions became nothing more than surface level politicisation of my experience, lacking a proactive and genuine effort to challenge the deep rooted problems associated with toxic masculinity.

The melding of the inclusive outer with an entitled inner resulted in a toxic outcome between the ally and the community.

Complacency can, in part, explain how this situation occurred. Engaging with communities other than your own, in this instance the queer, requires an ongoing effort, a constant reflection of your actions, an openness to self improvement.

This pertains also to sub-communities within the LGBQTQIA+ community, and by no means do I intend to brush over the inequities within the queer space, however, those who consider themselves allies need to remind themselves of this reccurently.

Rudimentary understanding and alignment with the queer community is the bare minimum. Genuine allyship must be anchored in an ongoing desire to understand and communicate with those living the queer experience, whilst never forgetting that there are experiences, jargon and inequities that cannot be written or understood, knowledge that is solely accessible to the queer.

My final comment addressed to allies reading this.

I hope the stories I have shared with you encourage you to harness your position of privilege and open a discussion with yourself. Challenge the conditioned beliefs we’ve all internalised, and soon enough the radiant community that offers us so much will receive widespread esteem and appreciation.