Beyond the Queer Alphabet by Malinda
 Smith
 and 
Fatima 
Jaffer
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11

Homophobia and beyond: Closets, Cloisters, and Other Corrective Measures

Richard Sullivan, University of  British Columbia

The recent publicity about bullying to the point where young people were driven to their deaths got me thinking about how ‘anxious’ the perpetrators were. A phobia is an anxiety disorder and the term homophobia has now been bandied about for at least three decades, curiously without psychiatric validation as a diagnostic classification. I remember that the term ‘homophobia’ served a political purpose when it was first coined. It provided a counter-narrative to the prevailing paradigms within psychiatry and religion – the disciplines and traditions that had paid greatest attention to same sex relationships and within which prevailing constructions placed us within the folds of  sin and mental illness.

A  counter-narrative  felt  good  but  I  also  remember  a  vague  annoyance  at  what  seemed  a rationalization for hateful behaviour. At the time I was a visible minority gay youth inasmuch as I had never been able to ‘pass’ and had early lost sight of  much value in ascribing to the rules. I tread lightly  around  questions  of  ‘choice’  since  my  “No  thank  you”  moment  in  observation  of  gender rules came early, though probably abetted by some awareness that I was not likely to be convincing in any effort to play by those rules. I don’t ever remember my tormenters looking anxious. They behaved with social impunity as if  they were doing the work of  correcting us – getting us back in line.

Some  four  decades  on,  I  find  myself  an  invisible  minority,  since  all  middle  aged  white  men,  and academics  in  particular,  look  pretty  much  the  same.  The  corrective  disciplines  of  propriety,  age appropriateness and dignity have long since extinguished any distinctive style and as long as I don’t speak, gesture or dress suspiciously well, I can probably pass for straight.

But for those not yet faded into the woodwork of  convention, I wonder if  harassment is the price they pay in backlash against what has been gained. What do they have to say about the anxiety of their attackers? Is it time to consider other explanations for bad behaviour? And even accepting that there may be some instances of  violence motivated by a clinical disorder in the realm of  a phobia, do  most  instances  of  queer  bashing  need  a  rationalizing  clinical  construct  when  plain  serviceable terms like ‘hateful’ and ‘stupid’ will do?

Corrective measures abound, some overtly hostile, some covertly persuasive. I suggest that it might be a more productive route to explore these corrective/coercive normative mechanisms in relation to the closet as an instrument of  labour extraction, particularly caring labour or domestic labour. For those for whom conventionality was compromised by visibility or more subtle disinclination, closets were very literally cloisters of  respectability. I suggest that cultural traditions with a strong emphasis on family duty and filial piety over individualism are most inclined to resist the impulses to freedom of  their less conventional members.

These same families have respectable alternatives to marriage and reproduction in the prototypical roles of  spinster aunt and bachelor uncle – roles in service to the conventional family. This is not to suggest  that  all  such  persons  were  sexual  minorities  but  the  latter  may  owe  a  historic  debt  to tradition  in  providing  sanctuary,  albeit  at  a  cost.  Those  disinclined  to  conventional  marriage  and family  life  could  find  some  sanctuary  from  normative  pressures  in  the  form  of  roles  that  still provided service within the normative conventions of  family and community life.

The religious service orders and the professions of  social work, nursing and education also owe an historic debt to the disinclined – the single men and women whose vocations took them into the service   of    community   at   sites   often   perceived   as   inhospitable   to   their   married   peers. Disproportionate numbers of  single people have figured in the histories of  these institutions and professions. For some, a respectable solitude was traded for any impulse to freedom and solidarity with the sexual peers from whom they were separated by enforced secrecy. Social convention is the beneficiary.

Bullying  then  and  now  serves  to  enforce  rules  by  which  the  resources  of  sexual  minorities  are extracted.   As   with   many   groups,   enduring   labour   ghettoes   exist.   Consider   the   number   of stereotyped gay and lesbian ‘professions’ that are in the personal or public service fields, meeting the needs of  the community including the needs for entertainment and aesthetic improvement.

Stereotypes themselves are exercised as corrective measures but they can also serve as a north star, a beacon to sanctuary. We are now in a period of  exodus from labour ghettoes. We are coming out all over  and  families  and  communities  can  be  expected  to  defend  their  interests  as  continuing beneficiaries of  our labours.

Pseudo-clinical rationalization in terms like homophobia does not serve to interrogate the interests served by subordination in all of  its brutal and refined forms. If  “It Gets Better”114  is to be more than a bumper sticker, our young must be protected. They must be supported in the ferocity they will need to sustain the pride that is also their rightful heritage. As James Baldwin put it:

“Passion is not friendly, it is arrogant, superbly contemptuous of  all that is not itself, and as  the  very  definition  of   passion  implies  the  impulse  to  freedom,  it  has  a  might intimidating power. It contains a challenge. It contains an unspeakable hope.

By way of  shifting our gaze to the unacknowledged beneficiaries of  our labour, I would like to use traditional religious reasoning to argue against assimilation and the reproduction of  the traditional nuclear family by sexual minorities. Perhaps God’s plan includes setting roughly 10 percent of  the population aside and exempting them from reproduction, hunting and grunting so that they could get on with the task of building civilization.115  As well, it is possible to further develop the discussion of  queer  labour  ghettos  and  the  cultural  appropriation  of  ‘fag  shui’  and  other  inclinations  more commonly attributed to 10 percent of  the population.

And having dispensed with the concept of  homophobia outside of  acute clinical circumstances, I would  like  to  explore  a  number  of  equally  rational  reasons  for  disliking  sexual  minorities  and perhaps propose some others like jealousy, resentment over the consolidation of  male privilege in the  white  gay  community,  using  internal  networks  to  access  resources  just  as  other  minority communities  have  done,  and  an  annoying  tendency  toward  conservatism  and  assimilation  once rights are gained.

I would also like to advise traditional families on the practicality of  raising a queer child as a hedge against  the  collapse  of  social  security.  With  declining  family  size,  it  is  merely  efficient  to  raise  a ‘twofer’ – to get yourself  a tomboy daughter who can fix your plumbing and decorate your cake.

114  It Gets Better. (2011). What is the It Gets Better Project. Retrieved from http://www.itgetsbetter.org/pages/about-it- gets-better-project/

115  Crimmins, C. (2005). How the Homosexuals Saved Civilization. New York: Tarcher.