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yvillegasvera18 · 3 years

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*Gender and Rhetoric*

In this entry, I will examine the critical questions: What gender norm is constructed or undone in this artifact, how is it rhetorically done, and/ or how does it promote a dominant ideology over a marginalized group or pushed back against the ideology or gender norms? Is it productive or unproductive?

To investigate these questions, the artifact that I have chosen to analyze is the movie Moxie. Moxie demonstrates the negative effects of the dominant ideology that women don’t have a voice. Moxie demonstrates these negative effects but also pushes against the ideology by demonstrating that unity and speaking out can make a difference. It is important to be able to openly admit that there is a divide in gender and tell women that they cannot be oppressed and silenced by men and others in the higher positions of power. Moxie is being productive in educating the viewers of the movie.

Moxie is a movie on Netflix about high school students who are tired of the gender inequality and sexist attitudes of the school. Vivian is a sophomore who has been going to Rockport High school and has been accustomed to the way people are treated at the school. Lucy is a new student who is not happy with the way students do not speak up against the injustices against women. Lucy is the reason why Vivian has a moment of realization where she believes that there should be change in her school. Vivian anonymously creates a sort of pamphlet where she writes about the injustices calling for everyone in the school to fight back against the oppression of men. By showing the support of one another Moxie grows stronger and has an influence at the end of the movie.

Butler (2003) explains how gender is completely influenced through social norms and they also influence the way people live their lives. Butler (2003) states, “These norms have far-reaching consequences for how we understand the model of the human entitled to rights or included in the participatory sphere of political deliberation.” When a person feels entitled due to their race, social status and gender they treat others like less of a person because it. Butler (2003) also mentions how these social norms are also needed for people to know they have to live because without it they would not know how to act. That is the beginning and direction stir of how to be able to assert individuality, The ‘I’ in who a person is.

In Moxie one of the first things that was done was to create awareness by wearing hearts and stars on their hands. This was a symbol of union to those who are tired of being treated unfairly. It was the beginning of their revolution because Vivian was unaware of how many girls in school felt oppressed and wanted change at their school. The hearts and stars was the first attempt of many that created Moxie. In the beginning there is no one with hearts and stars in at school and Vivian realizes that she was the only one who did it and tries to take it off in the bathroom where she found other girls who were proudly wearing the stars and hearts. The alliance helped Vivian gain her confidence that there can be change.

After the hearts and starts the girls wore strap tops because the dress code of Rockport High is mainly targeted towards women. Kaitlynn was wearing a strap shirt and the principal asked her to put on a jacket. “Just cover up so that we can all get back to learning,” (36:44) said the principal. One of Kaitlynn’s classmates was wearing the same tank top but was not called out for it due to her body looking different. Every woman is different in shape and size. Moxie expressed how the dress code is only to accommodate men because they can’t control themselves and women's bodies are a distraction at school. There weren't any regulations regarding the men from wearing tank tops to school The education system is singling out women only in the movie.

Towards the end of the movie the Moxie is put in a difficult situation because of the challenges they face and with one of Vivian’s friends suspended there is a class walk out to protest the injustice in Rockford High. The administration and teachers did nothing to help those who were trying be vocal with their concerns and wanted a bigger impact. The walk out caught the attention of the principal. During the walk out anyone who wanted to speak and tell their experience they had many people to hear them out and their experience. For example, Emma was sexually assaulted by the football captain and felt like no one would believe her because of his position and his gender. Mitchell, the football team's president is held on a pedestal at the school which made her uneasy to voice.

There are a few things I would like to point out that were the leading cause of the oppression of women at the school. The list that was sent out every year with who got best at something or worse. For example, there were categories such as most bangable and best ass. This list is sexualizing students at the high school making many of them feel uncomfortable. One thing that students could have done is ignore it and move on but it seemed like that was a normal recurring thing. Instead of using such sexualizing terms maybe use uplifting categories. Another problem was the administration there were several times when Lucy went to the Principal's office expressing her concerns like Mitchell harassing her. The principal used bothering instead or the term harassing because it meant more paperwork. The attitude of the principal was already concerning but when the principal was shown the list she immediately said because it was social media it didn’t involve the school. The principal being a woman too would not help the girls at the school with their concerns. Especially with the football team being the root of the problem.

Phillips (2012) states that by understanding that males are more likely to oppress women due to their exposure to the patriarchy.

“Understanding that men learned masculinity through oppressive systems helps us make sense as to why men who are exposed to vast amounts of misogynistic hip-hop music are more prone to objectify women (Kistler & Lee, 2010) and why men who view more pornography are more prone to accept rape myths as well as uphold harmful attitudes about women (W ei, Ven-Hwei, & Hsiaomei, 2010).”

These oppressive systems are being embedded into our society through teachings from the home, the media and socially. Philips’s article discusses how men and children should be involved in conversations that focus on gender violence. In doing so we can break away from the cycle of violence from men. Like how Mitchell from the movie Moxie was aggressive towards Lucy and sexually assaulted Emma in her own bedroom. Even though it is a movie and it's for entertainment purposes I do believe that it is harmful for young teens to be watching such actions and be influenced by it. They could take it as their guidance to being liked and cool at school because it’s being portrayed that way on a screen.

In summary, the movie Moxie is challenging and pushing back the societal gender norms. Women have a voice and united they are more powerful capable of change. United, everyone can be treated fairly. Although it is just a movie it is one step closer to equality for all. Our country is still trying to achieve equality for all and it’s taking too long. Women are climbing the government ladder and we will eventually get there.

Butler, J. (2004). “Introduction: Acting in concert.” In Undergoing gender (pp. 1-4). New York: Routledge.

Poehler, P., Lessing, K., Sackett, M. 2021 Moxie. Netflix. https://www.netflix.com/watch/81078393?trackId=14170286&tctx=2%2C0%2Cde1274a1-aa43-4cc3-a00f-4210e7a43f92-22469582%2C485fa20d-7a3c-4988-8317-585581a95722_72720579X3XX1621197602349%2C485fa20d-7a3c-4988-8317-585581a95722_ROOT%2C

PHILLIPS, J. D. (2012). Engaging Men and Boys in Conversations About Gender Violence: Voice Male Magazine Using Vernacular Rhetoric as Social Resistance. Journal of Men’s Studies, 20(3), 259–273. https://proxy.augustana.edu:2138/10.3149/jms.2003.259

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l-l-kristofferson · 6 years

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My Depression Struggles

***DISCLAIMER! IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR HELPFUL TIPS OR INSIGHT ABOUT DEPRESSION, PLEASE READ CAREFULLY. BUT IF YOU ARE EASILY DEPRESSED AND SENSITIVE TO THESE TOPICS, STOP READING NOW. THANK YOU IN ADVANCE!***

For those that know me personally, they know that I suffer from ADHD and bipolar disorder. Mostly because these are the only two conditions I talk about openly. I also suffer from anxiety disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), gender dysphoria, and depression. My other four disorders carry more stigma than the first two. I'm not as excited to talk about these topics in fear of judgment. That being said, I usually only talk about these things to a therapist or doctor. But with depression becoming more and more common, I feel that it should be talked about.

Here are some basic facts. In the US, about sixteen million (16,000,000) suffer from depression. That is estimated at almost seven percent of our population. It can be and is linked to a lot of disabilities in the world. It effects both men and women, at times effecting children from a young age. Those who are more likely to suffer from depression are girls and women. My mother, at one point in time, suffered from the condition. Worldwide, it effects three hundred and fifty million (350,000,000) people. It can stem from a lot of things such as loss and grief, personal or professional dilemmas, a preexisting medical condition, or all of the above. There are many other causes but everyone has a different experience.

What a lot of people don't know is that depression is just the general term for a lot of subgroups. There is major depression, premenstrual depressive disorder (PMDD), stress depressive disorder, manic depression, and post pardom depression. All have their separate causes and affect different people. Another thing that people don't get is that it can be linked to other conditions over the course of time. So here is my experience.

From a young age, I was always sad in some way. This probably started when my father separated from my mom when I was two years old. From then, he was in and out of my older bother's life as well as mine. Even now, I only interact with my father if I have to due to him leaving my mother and leaving us to struggle. Around seven or eight years old, I started to say to a lot of my adult "friends" at school that I would be better off dead. This caused concern and they brought my mother in about the issue, asking her if there were any changes at home. My mom explained what had happened years earlier and they suggested that I be put in therapy. From what I remember of those sessions with my therapist, Dr. Berman, she would always ask me how I was doing as I played with some toys. I would tell her about my day, about my brother and my mom, and about times I would see my dad. Every time I would go to a session, I would pick out a felt board with characters you can lay on top and make up a story. I would usually pick out a man and dress him in a knights costume, at times accompanied by a maiden or princess. After a while, she asked me why I would always do the same thing when I would visit her. I said that I didn't know. At the time, I had little idea of what it all meant because I didn't really think anything was wrong. I understood (in some sense) that my dad wasn't going to live with us ever again and that I wouldn't really get to see him. But looking at it now, I realize that all I was doing... was wishing someone would protect me like my father used to.

Eventually, I stopped going to therapy with Dr. Berman and "got over" what I was going through. I was okay until I was twelve. It started with the death of someone I was really close to... I lost her to suicide. It was the first girl I ever fell in love with and I never got to tell her how I felt. For months, I didn't know what to do. I would cry and cry and cry, not feeling any relief. This was my first glimpse into depression that I was aware of at the time. But soon, it turned into numbness and anger. Why did she leave me? She told me we'd be together forever. She abandoned me. This would coincide with my lesbian identity, something I was unaware of. When that got out in junior high, girls didn't want to come near me, which caused me to feel like an outcast. I was alienated by most of the girls, except a couple who remained friends with me (one I'd known since kindergarten and the one non English speaker who thought I was really nice). The boys thought I was awesome and welcomed me. For the next two years, I was able to make it through. I thought high school would be more accepting. I was so wrong.

When it got out that I was a lesbian nerd, I was constantly picked on by boys and girls. One time, someone said that a girl named Samantha thought I was cute and wanted to get to know me, maybe go on a date. Hearing this, I was so happy. It was awesome. A girl found me worth her time. I had seen her and thought she was pretty. Naturally, I wrote her a loving note and had her read it. Little did I know it was a joke and everyone was laughing at me. I went to the bathroom, cried, and had a fit. I even tossed my journal, bending the metal ring binding. As for the boys, they would toss me down stairs, throw me against walls, push me, physically assault me, hold me in dark closets, and trap me in the guy's room. Between struggling with my identity and being bullied until the age of sixteen, I was constantly depressed. I wouldn't sleep, I'd barely eat, and I wouldn't talk to anyone unless they spoke to me first. I was isolating myself to protect myself from rejection and ridicule. But that worked to my advantage. I kept my head in the books, excelled in class, and kept my GPA high. Friends came later like my best friend Odd, my friends Vachon, his brother Chris, my really good friend (and ex-girlfriend) Natalie, my shop friends Clyde and Erik, and other good friends (you know who you are guys). As I got to graduation, I won a scholarship for college, was in the top ten percent of my class, and surrounded by friends. I wanted to do better. For Jane...

From eighteen to now, it was alright. I kept my head in the books and tried to keep my GPA in the black. But from August to early November of this year, was my lowest point. I was fighting with my mental health facility to get my medication approved and in that fight, had no medication to fall back on. So I spiraled out of control. I couldn't sleep worth a damn, I had little motivation to do much of anything except watch YouTube and forget about it all, I wasn't eating any real food, I shut myself away from the rest of the world, I wouldn't shower for days (sometimes for almost a week), and my anxiety was awful. The only time I seemed to find joy was in the company of other people or on the phone with someone. I didn't feel alone then. But every day was a fight just to get out of bed. I thought of suicide and hurting myself a lot. I would take a lot of painkillers or drink half of a bottle of cough syrup to ease my pain and numb me from thinking. I was grateful for sleep... Because that was the only time I didn't feel any pain. I was mostly at peace. But after five weeks, I started having nightmares, one to three a night. I would be too scared to sleep and sought someone to talk to. Mind you, this was usually between two and four in the morning, when normal people are asleep. But that entire time, I was honest with three people, my best female friend, my therapist, and my regular doctor. Otherwise, no one knew that I was suffering. Not my friends at school, not my coworkers, not my classmates, not my family, not the customers I served. I didn't want them to know. I felt ashamed.

As of the fourteen of November, I have been getting better. It's easier to get out of bed, it's easier to talk to people about my pain, it's easier to eat, it's easier to do my work, it's easier to smile, and I can be more of myself. Some days can still be tough but I keep busy to stay out of those negative thoughts. The one thing I'm glad I did was not give up. I kept going. Through the pain, through the mental bouts and torment, through the anxiety and voices telling me to end it, I stood alive.

Some helpful tips I have are to 1) seek help, 2) be honest, 3) find a positive (and safe) way to deal with your struggles, 4) admit to yourself that you are in need, 5) remind yourself that it gets better, 6) drink tea (I do!), and 7) SMILE!

There are days that I get upset and want to get angry. But I try to keep calm and smile. It can be difficult at times because I'm under a lot of stress as I near the end of my academic career. I am currently doing two internships, a lot of schoolwork, participating in class, volunteering and helping friends, and holding a part time job. How am I alive? A lot of tea (HA HA!). I am grateful for my family, my friends, and those around me. They are one of few reasons I live.

I know it isn't easy for everyone and that there are those suffering much more than me. For those of you who are struggling, keep your head up and smile. If this is rock bottom, there is only one way to go from here: up. I hope that this post was helpful. If you ever need advice or need to talk, my Instagram is lame_dude_20 (my profile picture is of Roxas) and my Kik is Kingsebastianisdead (my profile is a picture of Ventus and the username is The Roxas Joker). I hope I can be the Merlin to your Arthur.

Thank you so much for listening. Write again soon.

#writer #writing #depression #mentalillness #itgetsbetter #hanginthere #don'tgiveup #depressionawareness #imheretohelp #welcometomyworld

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bitter-ramblings · 7 years

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Tw: rape, sexual abuse

Pretty heavy stuff, major viewers discretion advised.

I’ve been sexually abused for as long as I can remember. Boom, that’s a fucking bombshell.

As with a lot of people who were abused young, my abuser was a family member, my cousin in fact. He’d got only one year on me, but that year was enough. I don’t remember a time when we weren’t playing with each other, every Sunday we’d be locked in the back kitchen after dinner and be left to our own devices. I remember one time we were caught naked covering each other in ink stamps.

Of course, as he got older he learned more and wanted to explore more, and I didn’t know enough that I needed to stop him. Not till I was 11 and received sex education from a shitty video at primary school, prior to that I had no idea about anything. After that, I became a lot more wary, fearful of pregnancy (hadn’t begun menstruating at that time but I was scared all the same). He wanted to have sex properly, but I was scared of the pain, so his answer to that was anal.

In order to alleviate my fear of losing my virginity (an outdated concept I fucking loathe) I broke my own hymen using a fragrance bottle, hurt like a bitch but I didn’t bleed. I kind of felt a surge of pride that no one would ever be able to hurt me like that. By the time we were 16 this behaviour had dwindled practically into nothingness, he visited less and less and we both moved on. He got himself a girlfriend, and I… Was terrified of everyone. I very rarely see him these days, only at family gatherings and then he refuses to be alone with me.

When I was 14 in high school there was a boy I talked to called Carl, again he was a year older than me. Carl was previously in a relationship with my friend Mousey, and he pined over them something terrible and decided that he’d try and worm his way back in by taking advantage of me. Me, being the naive kid that I was. He invited me over to his house to meet his dog, who he punched and abused, he does not deserve a dog so sweet and loving at all.

He’d just come back from holiday and had brought back some absinthe, which I then foolishly drank and it put me on my arse. I remember him pulling me upstairs and pushing me onto the bed. I was unable to speak coherently, so I put my hands over myself. He flipped me over and had his way with my backside. It was quick at least. Afterwards, I staggered to the bathroom and cleaned myself up, he followed me and laughed when he saw he’d made me bleed. He then left me where I was and went downstairs to watch Scrubs. I fucking hate that show. I had to walk home.

I wasn’t sexually active again until I was 18 and going to Reaseheath College, studying to be a zoologist. It strange I used to have ambition, but that was squashed pretty quickly. I wasn’t friends with anyone (had a really bad time, more on that another story), I was just wandering aimlessly around the campus in the cold, trying not to cry because of how fucking miserable I was. I was approached by Dei, a welsh farming student at the college, 1-3 years older than me. He approached me and asked me if I was okay. I was in such a bad place that I actually just tried to sidestep him. He persisted and introduced himself, asking if I needed a friend and somewhere to go. He told me he’d find me later as he had class.

Soon I was invited back to his room and we spent out time together watching Eddsworld and Tomska, at first. He was pursuing a girl called Becky but somehow deluded himself that he thought I liked him. I liked him as a friend, but he’d always say “don’t fall in love with me okay?” And it pissed me off to no end. For someone so interested in someone else he was eager to stick his cock in my mouth. He’d frequently urge me to do things because he wanted to help me ‘learn’. He frequently treated me like a child because of my inexperience and would talk down to me.

I’d go to his room for a nap, or just to get away from the hell I was already putting up with at college. I started just blanking him out, letting him go about his business, just focusing on the videos. Ironically Darksquidges sex education is one I remember watching. (Funnily enough, Tom Ridgewell, the owner of both Darksquidge and Tomska, his videos are a good coping mechanism for me, both he and Edd from Eddsworld were very dear to me growing up, and I managed to regain joy in watching them.) Dei bit my ear so hard he damaged the cartilage. He never knew when to stop.

At the same time, this was happening I met Tyler, also at Reasheath, also 1-3 years older than me. (Not Tyler Durden, but close.) The first time I ever met Tyler I was in the library doing some work, he approached me and told me I sit funny. He then sat beside me and started telling me his life story of being born in Malaysia and how evil his parents are. He also hated Dei, and was friends with the aforementioned Becky. He told me he wanted to save me from Dei, which I thought was complete bullshit.

After meeting me twice he declared himself my boyfriend. He’d frequently touch me in public, and once I got him off in the library. He’d frequently drag me into the disabled toilets. The first time we went in there, he made me give him a blowjob and he came in my mouth, which I specifically asked him not to do. His cum was gross, and he started doing it regularly. He’d buy me a strawberry YOP as an 'apology’. He told me he loved me and it made me feel sick, but what was worse was that he seemed to genuinely believe that he did.

Once I reported him for assaulting me. Do you know what they said to me? “Are you sure? He’s such a nice boy. Did you lead him on? Maybe you misunderstood.” That made me feel like absolute shit and nothing was ever followed up with it. I eventually left Reaseheath with no qualifications because of all the distress I was in.

When I was 20, I’d gone back to my local college and was once again studying animal management. And I was so happy. It was the first time I was openly trans, and I was accepted and validated by my classmates every day. They were false friends and I couldn’t stand any of them, but they made me feel good about myself. One person, in particular, was a lad named Reece.

We had a lot in common and I liked him, but he wasn’t into guys and was pining after the resident pretty girl of the class. She made it pretty clear he’d got no chance and he took it really hard, I supported him throughout. One time we were watching Full Metal Alchemist brotherhood on his bed and he turned to me and kissed me. I was understandably thrilled and soon had his shirt off. Everything was all well and good as he undressed me, except for the fact that I actually neglected to tell him I don’t have a penis. Him being a straight guy you’d think this would be a good thing but apparently not. He went down on me, but soon just straightened up and announced: “this is wrong.” And stomped away. He actually left the house, leaving me in his bedroom naked. I got dressed and went down, asked his mum to keep an eye on him because “I think I made a mistake” and then walked home. He refused to talk to me or even look at me for the rest of the academic year, and still to his day ignores me if he sees me walking by.

That same year, Tyler was in Stoke and invited me out for drinks, I foolishly agreed because apparently I never fucking learn. I went to Wetherspoons with him and his friend James. They got me drunk, drove me to the local park and they took turns with me. This was the first instance of vaginal penetration via a penis I’d encountered, so by conventional standards, I lost my virginity at the age of 20, in a threesome whilst being guilty as all fuck over Reece.

My asexual pal Mousey got sick of people saying “you can’t be asexual if you’ve never had sex” and I was chosen as tribute. It was quite an honour to be honest, that they trusted me with their body in this way. They came and offered to reciprocate, but I declined the offer. I didn’t want them to do something they’d regret. This happened a few times but they are most definitely comfortable in their asexuality.

For my 21st birthday, I went on a tinder date with someone who became very dear to me. Sex with him was easy and passionate, I wasn’t afraid, I trusted him so easily. What I wasn’t aware of was that he was in a relationship at the time (shit was really fucked up and it’s not my business to go into details or judge), and his having sex with me brought an end to the relationship. He taught me the poly ways and introduced me to his other partners.

I was so happy, I felt included and cared about for the first time. We got together officially after Halloween, with some very passionate hotel sex as a celebration. Things were good, he introduced me to his friends and I went to the pub quiz with them. I felt like I’d found my place. But then as so often happens with me, shit got fucked real quick.

He had to break up with one of his partners due to issues they were having, he got together in a neat little triad (like holy shit they are so cute), but his mental health took a dive so badly, he couldn’t spend any time with me. At that time I was going through some bad shit myself, in fact, I attempted suicide. I started drinking too much and making a nuisance of myself. I didn’t feel appreciated, called him pompous. He always felt he knew best and treated me like a child. Probably because I was acting like it, but I’ve never liked ‘holier than thou’ attitudes.

I started to feel that he didn’t want me to be part of his world anymore. The invitations to go places with him stopped, the kisses and the murmured 'i love you’s. He outright refused to take me to kink events, “it’s too much for you” “you don’t have to get into kink” without any regard to the fact that I wanted to explore who I am. He labelled me a “blue player” meaning I can't reach orgasm with another person. Maybe that’s true, but I didn’t appreciate him not trying very hard.

Because of my past history, he wouldn’t treat me roughly, he wouldn’t hold me down and take me. I think he choked me twice and that was more to show that he could after I goaded him for being a chicken. He always treated me like I was delicate, and I ended up resenting him for it. The roughest thing he ever did, he did when drunk and can’t remember it. (A lot of the sex we had was when we were drunk, maybe that says something) He held my head and throat fucked me then came on my face… Then fell asleep. And they say romance is dead.

There was one time I really needed him with me, and he physically could not get out of bed to help me, utterly crippled by the weight of his own depression. I didn’t blame him, I know how he feels. That’s when I knew I needed to let him go. He didn’t need me, we couldn’t help each other the way we were now.

I let him go on valentine’s day. I miss the time I used to spend with him, but we weren’t doing each other any favours towards the end, I think I made the right decision for the both of us. He is happy with his partners, and it brings me joy to see them so happy together.

Last time I had sex was January 25th, at a cuddle and play party. There were so many lovely people there and it was such a lovely environment. Curse my shyness. But I did meet up with the two people I’d been most eager to meet. Now that was a good night. Lots of exploration and good times, it was very playful. (Best dick I’ve ever had was attached to a woman) I was fucking baffled when I was asked what I like and how I like it. I was never really given many options previously. But after all was said and done, my mental state just crashed and I froze, I went to sit under a table away from other guests because I was so overwhelmed by everything. Both of them were so understanding, and I managed to talk to a few more people before the night was through.

The thing that fucks me up most in regards to sex is that I can have someone completely at my mercy, pinned under me and begging for me… And then I look down… And I don’t have a penis. The shock and horror I feel is incomparable to anything else. The fact that I will never be able to feel myself sliding into someone and fucking them senseless is honestly something that brings me great distress.

Maybe that’s why I like Doggystyle so much, my eyes are facing forward, I don’t look down and see what I’m missing. It’s such a headfuck to just not see a penis there, I cannot explain the bizarreness of it. Mostly just rambling. At some point, I’ll be doing a post about kinks as I’ve been specifically asked about what they are and where they stem from.

#Sammy speaks #tw: rape #tw: abuse #tw: transphobia #tw: incest #being poly is one of the best thing that's ever happened to me #probably about time people knew #my family has no idea about any of this #the rape or the kinkery or even the poly #feel free to ask me stuff or whatever #either on here or Facebook or fetlife if you have me #bitter-sammy #thetomska

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oilujcarpio · 6 years

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National Coming Out Day

When I think about this "holiday", I'm often reminded of the rainbow capitalism associated with much of the LGBTQ+ "pride" experience in the United States of America.

Let's engage.

It's become common knowledge that pride, as we know it today, was first and foremost a riot, a protest, a fight for civil rights. The Stonewall Inn was recognized as a historical landmark, celebrities now attend pride events regularly, companies put their logos on rainbow backgrounds, and same-sex marriage was nationally legalized under the Obama administration. So, clearly, this must mean that the fight is over, right?

Wrong.

Queer people of color, in particular, are still disproportionately made the victims of not only hate crimes, but also sexual assaults and murders. Just two years ago forty-nine people were gunned down at Pulse in Orlando, FL, on Latin night of all nights.

Now, I won't go into a political tirade about why this kind of stuff is still happening, but I find it quite striking that National Coming Out Day is still taking place in the Trump Era, arguably the most dangerous time period for minorities.

"Coming out", if you are unfamiliar, is when a person of the LGBTQ+ community announces or openly discloses their sexual orientation/gender identity to a person, group, or even publicly. I will tell you now, vehemently, that there is no such thing as a "right time" to come out. Despite what the media says, many do not take into account the ramifications of coming out to the wrong person or in the wrong situation. Coming out is cathartic, sure, but for some, it can also be life-threatening.

Take my own coming out story, for example. I was in seventh grade when people first found out that I was gay. I had been pretty under the radar before then. I tried to be smart, but not too smart, funny but not too funny, and told many that I was "straight".

Everyone but my journal, that is. I told that damned thing all about my many crushes and gay feelings.

In my language arts class, I had left my journal out on the desk after leaving the room to relieve myself in the lavatory. When I had come back, the entire class was laughing at me. At first, I had thought that I had peed on myself or that I had a trail of toilet paper stuck to my shoe, but no.

A mean girl (who will remain nameless for this account) had gotten ahold of my journal and disclosed its contents to the entire classroom. Within minutes, I had become the school's only gay kid. It was like some shitty gay teen movie. People called me names, laughed at me, and the teacher did nothing.

I sat there, my mind on idle, waiting for the period to be over.

Waiting for my life to be over.

There are many problems with this story. Aside from the traumatic lapses in my memory, I was robbed of something very personal and very private before I was ready to share it with people.

Later that day, later that week, later that year, I was harassed in the hallways, called names by people who were once my friends and then later physically assaulted in the bathroom after school while taking my trombone home for at-home music practice.

When people tell LGBTQ+ youth to come out, they rarely, if ever, consider the risks, the social implications, the effect it could have at home, on the child's mental health. Coming out doesn't have to be dangerous; it doesn't have to be non-consensual.

Coming out is a process. I am constantly coming out to new people, classmates, acquaintances, medical professionals, etc because I have to. It may sound contradictory for me to preach about not encouraging children to come out and then later stating that I come out often, but the difference is within the context.

When children come out, they are oft met with pushback or some other kind of resistance. "How can you know at such a young age?", "You don't know what you're saying", "There's plenty of time for you to change your mind", and many other blanket statements/questions. No one considers that these children are sexual in their own ways or that they have already developed strong a sense of self. When a child says he is gay, for example, people immediately jump to a sexual context, never once considering that the child is self-aware or getting information from outside sources. Your kid is not saying he wants to perform oral sex on every child is his first-grade class when he comes out to you then; he's saying he likes boys more than his friends like girls. Regardless of the age of the youth, I usually don't advise coming out until a certain level of independence has been maintained.

I am not a child anymore. I am a grown man who has had life experiences that have shaped how I view the world and its perception of me. I come out deliberately because I don't want to isolate people when I talk about my sex life, I don't want to shock or surprise people when I talk about my fiancé, not fiancée, I don't want people to freak out when I open up about my desire to adopt children one day.

I open up about these things for my own health, safety, and comfort (when I feel it is necessary), and not for the purpose of including others in my secret, "perverted" fantasies or whatever else straight people think my queerness is about.

With pride,

#blog

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