Today we have one more another installment of our first-person profiles of queer people of color. If you're queer and of color, we're hoping this series can illuminate some of your own diversity, allow you to feel less isolated and know you're not alone. Queer youth (and queer people on the whole) are often isolated. That isolation hurts and can and does do very real damage. LGB young people who are also oppressed, marginalized and rendered doubly invisible because of race tend to face even greater challenges and isolation.
No matter who you are or what your deal is, we think you'll find these profiles challenge many perceptions and may make you reconsider or refine ideas or questions about orientation and race. It can also help you and others grow your compassion and your care, better understanding that every kind of marginalization and oppression both does very real harm and always has the capacity to do so, especially if it goes unseen and unheard.
Color/race you are/identify with: South Asian
When did you realize you were gay, lesbian or bisexual? I was at university, aged around 21. I developed a huge crush on one of my straight female friends. All of my friends, except one, seemed outwardly straight at the time. I think I'd been questioning my sexuality since I was around 13. I've only had one brief sexual experience before and this was with another girl, when we were going through puberty. Ever since then, I had some inkling that I liked girls and their bodies.
How did you feel about that realization? It was very scary and isolating. I didn't tell anyone initially. Then I started secretly going along to a 'Rainbow Youth' group (after walking past the door five times, finding it too hard to go inside). I attended on and off for 2 years but I didn't tell anyone there how hard it was for me to come every week and I didn't cry. I just tried to fit in. It was hard because I wasn't interested in the drinking and bar scene. Because of this, combined with study and family pressures, I began to feel overwhelmed, depressed and alone. I called the Gay helpline one day and spoke to a young Indian man. Among other things, he told me that he thought he could never come out to his parents. I found this even more depressing.
Have you been able to come out? One day, while at university, I went to talk to my professor in charge of student welfare as I needed some stress leave and wasn't coping. As I sat there crying and talking about feeling lonely and how I hadn't dated anyone before, he seemed to read between the lines and asked me if I could be gay. After talking to that first person, it became easier to tell others. It's been a very slow process for me though. I told my GP and my counsellor first. I told one of my South Asian friends; she was really caring and supportive about it. Six months later, I told another two friends. A year later, another two friends. To my extended family, most of my friends, the South Asian community where I live and to my work colleagues, I remain in the closet.
How supported do you feel by your own family and your community of color? Although I think of myself as South Asian, I was born overseas and have always lived in a Western country. Our family still carries many of our traditional values from back home and we have a large community here. I came out to my parents around 3 years after having my own realizations. The impetus for this was that they had started to look for marriage partners for me. I dated one man that they introduced me to for a few months. At the same time, I was secretly trying out different queer groups and it was a really confusing time. I knew that I had to tell them. That conversation and the conversations that followed were so tough. Remembering them still upsets me and that first day, I almost had a car accident afterwards. My mother thought I had thrown out all of my values and had no concern for us as a family. My dad thought I was unnatural and that I had no concern for my mother's health. You see, my mother told me that I had made her suicidal and that she must have burned someone in a past life to deserve a daughter like me. It was a huge guilt trip which effectively silenced me. One of the most hurtful parts was telling me not to associate with my South Asian female friends and not to have too much contact with my nieces and young cousins, not to stay at their houses overnight. My parents were afraid I'd pass on my lesbian perversions to them. Those kind of responses amplified the shame I already felt inside. Even now (2 years later), if I come out to someone, I have the urge to add "I'm lesbian......but, I'm still a good person, please keep me in your life!". Part of me feels like I need to be an 'extra good' daughter to make up for the gayness. Our current situation is that they are aware of my feelings but we don't talk about it at all. I also try to be as discrete as I can about discussing with other family members or people who know my parents so as not to make it awkward for them.
It's hard because although they don't support this part of me, my family has been so loving and supported me immensely in other areas of my life. I owe much of my success to them. I will always be grateful to my parents and I want to be here to support them as they age. I know that they only want me to be happy. I guess they feel that getting married to a nice South Asian man and having children is the only acceptable route to that happiness. Unfortunately, they are still looking for potential marriage partners for me.
My community would not be supportive of my coming out and I do not feel safe to do so. I expect that if my sexual orientation becomes widely known, I and perhaps even my family will become distanced from the community. I will not be welcome in their homes. I know one other gay man in our community and I hate how people denigrate and shame him behind his back. Of course, another barrier is my own internalized homophobia. Sometimes my own shame isolates me from the community and makes me feel like I can't face them as an unmarried woman. Although they would not support me as my authentic self, it is still scary to think about the possibility of losing them. If I were still living in the country my parents came from, I am aware my situation could be much worse.
I belong to one community group working in the area of domestic violence prevention and intervention among ethnic minority women. On my first day, I remember testing the waters, asking about whether they offered specific support for women belonging to sexual minorities. I'll never forget how kind that Indian lady was. She asked me whether I was enquiring for myself and when I affirmed I was, she smiled and told me that they had had many lesbian staff members and clients and that I was very welcome there. Just that sentence made a world of difference to me.
How about by the queer community? ell, to an extent I have felt supported. The problem is that the queer community where I live is predominantly white, and tend not have familiarity with issues such as my marriage predicament. Sometimes I do feel pressure from the queer community to come out, as if that will be the solution to all of my problems. I do have some wonderful white gay and lesbian friends though who make an effort to listen and understand. One woman in particular is my mother's age and her advice and sharing of her life experience has really helped me through the hard times. Also when I watch her with her partner and her kids, I feel optimistic that maybe that kind of future is also possible for me. I love meeting other queer people of colour, particularly from the South Asian community, but I don't often get this opportunity.
How has managing your romantic/sexual relationships gone? In what, if any, ways do you feel being a GLB person of color has impacted your relationships? I haven't had any romantic relationships outside of the dates with South Asian men that my parents have set up for me. In an ideal world without prejudice or discrimination, I dream of having a long term relationship with another South Asian woman who speaks my mother tongue and shares my religion (Buddhism). I don't know if that's possible and it doesn't leave alot of potential partners to choose from. Sexually, I've been quite inhibited in the past and and I struggle with feeling shame about my desires but I'm working on that. I grew up with the values that I needed to be a virgin until marriage. Although I'm an adult now it's still hard to reconcile that with my sexual orientation.
What do you feel are particular challenges for gays, lesbians and bisexuals of color? Where would I even start to talk about this? I can point you to a resource that I particularly like and can relate to- "Brown Like Me is a short documentary brought to you by the Alliance for South Asian AIDS Prevention (ASAAP)s Queer South Asian Youth (Q-SAY) project. This short film captures the experiences of 6 queer-identified South Asian youth living in the Greater Toronto Area who speak candidly about identity labels, homophobia, coming out, pride, resiliency, and family."
We're all so different from each other and I feel I can only speak for myself. For me, the biggest challenge is avoiding isolation and othering within various communities. Finding a place where I am understood and emotionally safe. Meeting other queer people of colour. Meeting potential partners. Thinking about childbearing outside of a heterosexual model. Dealing with my own internalized prejudices. Fighting stereotypes. Wow, I find myself dealing with stereotypes regarding my age and appearance, my gender, my ethnicity, my immigration status, my sexual orientation..sometimes all within the same day. That can be really tiring! It has also made me strong though.
How do you feel others can help with those challenges? Don't assume. Don't assume that because I'm brown, I'm straight. Don't assume that because I'm brown, I don't speak English or that I'm a refugee. Don't assume that because I identify as gay, I am on my way out or that I won't get married to a man. If you're not sure who I am and what I stand for, please ask. Appreciate and learn about diversity in all its forms, whether it's about different cultures or about sexuality and gender. Be inclusive; don't make me feel alone.
If you're white and I'm telling you about my family and community, I'm taking a big risk and trusting you. If you're brown and I'm coming out to you, same deal. Please don't call my culture sexist or uneducated, don't make jokes about "arranged marriages" and don't deny my orientation or demand that I come out to the world; instead, ask me about my experience and how you can support me. Be an ally whenever you can. When you hear homophobic or racist comments, you need to stand up for us. Sometimes it's hard for us to speak up for ourselves and we need you to be our voice too. Be aware that we are here. Don't ever tell me that there are no queer people at your school or in your community or in your country! We may not always feel safe to be out, but we are everywhere. In return, we have so much to offer. We understand acutely what it is to be part of multiple minorities.
Does one kind of bias you face -- racism vs. homo/biphobia -- feel larger, more oppressive than the other? HAll bias can be large and oppressive, but in my life, I've been lucky not to face too much racism. At the moment, homophobia, both external and internal, feels more oppressive. (I also agree with Ellaris' wise answer to this one).
What do you feel like GLB people who are not of color don't get about the differences being GLB of color? What about hetero white people: what do they miss? There's no simple answer. Just that my experience of sexuality and coming out can't be equated to anyone else's, whether they are white or of colour. The more that we ask questions of each other and make an effort to understand our mutual differences with respect, the easier it will be.
Want to be part of this series and share your experiences and ideas about being gay, lesbian or bisexual and of color? We'd love to include you and get your voice out there. Drop us an email and we'll send you the questions!
Here's another installment of our first-person profiles of queer people of color. If you're queer and of color, we're hoping this series can illuminate some of your own diversity, allow you to feel less isolated and know you're not alone. Queer youth (and queer people on the whole) are often isolated. That isolation hurts and can and does do very real damage. LGB young people who are also oppressed, marginalized and rendered doubly invisible because of race tend to face even greater challenges and isolation.
No matter who you are or what your deal is, we think you'll find these profiles challenge many perceptions and may make you reconsider or refine ideas or questions about orientation and race. It can also help you and others grow your compassion and your care, better understanding that every kind of marginalization and oppression both does very real harm and always has the capacity to do so, especially if it goes unseen and unheard.
Color/race you are/identify with: Black
When did you realize you were gay, lesbian or bisexual? I was 15.
How did you feel about that realization? I, personally, felt fine about the realization. I hadn't dated any male or female at the time yet and knew that I didn't have to in order to be queer.
Have you been able to come out? I came out willingly to my school friends, and to my older sister shortly after I realized I was queer. I was only bullied very little at my predominantly white high school, partly because the other students were terrified of me.
I knew my own parents were no good to come out to. My mother is super-religious, and my step-dad has mental-health issues that make him speaking with him about any topic difficult, if not impossible. However, I was outed to my mother by a co-worker of hers a few years ago. I confirmed her questions about it and we haven't spoken about it since.
How supported do you feel by your own family and your community of color? My family is supportive of my life, as long as they get to ignore the queer part. I know they can't handle it so I don't talk about it with them. As for my community of colour, the only one I've ever really been a part of is my mom's church family, and I know they wouldn't be able to handle it either.
How about by the queer community? As a bisexual, I can't say I feel particularly supported by the queer community.
How has managing your romantic/sexual relationships gone? In what, if any, ways do you feel being a GLB person of color has impacted your relationships? It hasn't, really. I think my poor record with relationships is more just a personal thing.
What do you feel are particular challenges for gays, lesbians and bisexuals of color? Many of us are from very religious backgrounds. They do not accept us, and are very slow to change. They will fight us until they die, so I feel that our best bet is just to let a couple of generations pass, unfortunately.
How do you feel others can help with those challenges? I have a pretty pessimistic view of this particular challenge. Many of us are forced to choose between being honest with our families, or having families.
Does one kind of bias you face -- racism vs. homo/biphobia -- feel larger, more oppressive than the other? Homophobia is more oppressive to me because it separates me from my own family. After all, they are the same colour as I am.
What do you feel like GLB people who are not of color don't get about the differences being GLB of color? What about hetero white people: what do they miss? I think queer white people sometimes don't appreciate the privilege of family acceptance. Of course, I know that not all white queers enjoy that privilege, but as far as I know it seems almost non-existent among black communities.
Want to be part of this series and share your experiences and ideas about being gay, lesbian or bisexual and of color? We'd love to include you and get your voice out there. Drop us an email and we'll send you the questions!
Time for another installment of our first-person profiles of queer people of color. This one is from someone older than the age group we serve at Scarleteen, but who came into hir sexual identity at 20. I think it's valuable to have a look at someone with more years to process all of these issues than our readers have usually had.
Again, even if you're not of color and queer, not LGB or not of color, we think it's vital to cultivate an awareness of what it means to be not just a member of one of those groups, but of both. If you are queer and of color, what we're hoping this new series can do is help illuminate some of your own diversity, allow you to feel less isolated and know you're not alone. Queer youth (and queer people on the whole) are often isolated. That isolation hurts and can and does do very real damage. LGB young people who are also oppressed, marginalized and rendered doubly invisible because of race tend to face even greater challenges and isolation.
No matter who you are or what your deal is, we think you'll find these profiles challenge many perceptions and may make you reconsider or refine ideas or questions about orientation and race. It can also help you and others grow your compassion and your care, better understanding that every kind of marginalization and oppression both does very real harm and always has the capacity to do so, especially if it goes unseen and unheard.
Color/race you are/identify with Multiracial, South Asian/white
When did you realize you were gay, lesbian or bisexual? Age 20
How did you feel about that realization? Just fine. It was almost a nonissue. The only people I didn't tell (for the first seven years) were my parents.
Have you been able to come out? Yes. With my parents it was tricky, but with everyone else it was easy. I was raised Unitarian Universalist, so I was lucky to be operating without a lot of religious and cultural baggage. My friends were more queer than straight; my college was offering queer studies classes. I'd been an out-and-proud ally for years, so it was a smooth transition. Literally, I woke up one morning and thought, "Oh look, I AM actually attracted to women. Cool." I never worried about telling my friends, or even my then-boyfriend. Everyone took it in stride.
How supported do you feel by your own family and your community of color? My own family tries. Really they do. I don't think the level of cluelessness is off the charts, but it's not much more than average, either. My community of color? I live in the rural northeast. Being queer and South Asian isn't easy; being queer and mixed is harder,because any community can put it down to the OTHER identity group. That said, my Indian grandmother has been incredibly supportive, and no one has written me hate mail or disowned me. I'm very grateful for the internet, and for the time I've spent in larger cities. Both give me a sense that there's someplace I might sort of fit in. However, I'm acculturated white and I don't speak any language other than English, so fitting into South Asian communities has always been tenuous for me. Mixed communities of color are easier because the standards of cultural inclusion are broader. I definitely feel more brown than white, but I'm most at home in multicultural groupings. The experience of being mixed is pretty specific. I'm often not x enough: not Indian enough, not brown enough, not queer enough. That's another layer of struggle.
How about by the queer community? It's way easier, if you're talking about white queer community. There is some exoticization (is that a word?) but not too much in our generation -- fewer and fewer people fetishize being brown. It's much worse in generationally mixed groups, where the older members of the group have the same race issues that most people of our parents' generation have. But no one has told me I'm too brown to be here. I do get criticized for my choice of "queer" over "lesbian" and end up doing a lot of explaining about gender continuua and the changing face of queer identities, but I don't think that's because of my race. Sorting out what problems are endemic and which are specific to my identity stack is one of the harder tasks that I only sometimes engage with.
How has managing your romantic/sexual relationships gone? In what, if any, ways do you feel being a GLB person of color has impacted your relationships? Because my mix of races is fairly unusual, there's pretty much no chance of a same-race relationship for me. Every one involves some measure of education about stuff, and some sense of cultural distance that must be bridged. It's more work, but it means we assume less, so maybe there are fewer major explosions. Maybe. You know that "whoosh" of relief from knowing everyone around you gets it? I have had that maybe once or twice in my life. Sometimes I'm really, really tired.
What do you feel are particular challenges for gays, lesbians and bisexuals of color? I hate trying to generalize from my experience to everyone's, but having a place where we can just relax and be ourselves seems most consistently difficult. Every identity is another limiting factor -- if you're like me, a mixed-race (South Asian), queer (bisexual), liberal religious, gender nonconforming (boyish with girl bits) person, it can be almost impossible to have a place where everything is already explained, where nothing has to be justified or detailed.
Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be in a relationship where race never enters the equation, but when I take a hard look at it everyone has cultural barriers to overcome unless they work really hard to only date people exactly like them. Because I grew up UU, the racial barriers seem huge and the sexual orientation barriers seem much smaller. UUism has its own issues with race and class with which we struggle, but we have worked hard and succeeded in some measure on issues around sexual orientation, and it shows. On the other hand, sometimes we think we're more progressive than we are.
How do you feel others can help with those challenges? Anytime people are more accepting and more educated, it helps. People of color can stop drawing the lines quite so tightly. In general, when the communities are more inclusive, they are less likely to exclude people who walk the borders. It sounds obvious, but it seems like maybe it's not. Being aware, self-educating, and doing the ally work is all good stuff. If you're queer and white, don't equate your experience of oppression with mine; don't try to set up a hierarchy either. But keep asking who's not at the table, and if I'm not, or if I'm the only one, pay attention. It's the little things. Like this one dance class I took where a woman who was there with a guy kept correcting the instructors from "ladies and gents" to "leaders and followers" over and over and over, which meant I didn't have to, nor did I have to wince. That's ally work. Even more? Do it when I'm not there, just because it's the right thing to do.
Does one kind of bias you face -- racism vs. homo/biphobia -- feel larger, more oppressive than the other? Can you talk about how? It all depends on the moment and the location. Context is everything. Whatever group isn't the majority is the one that feels bigger. Being in a room full of queer people of color is a strange kind of heaven.
What do you feel like GLB people who are not of color don't get about the differences being GLB of color? What about hetero white people: what do they miss? Everyone gets or doesn't get a different thing. Some hetero white folks are
educated and aware and on top of things; some aren't. Some people are seriously homophobic. Some are seriously racist. I do feel like that Onion article about a more virulent racism was spot-on; I think we're moving in that direction with homophobia too -- it's going underground. As a culture we haven't really figured out how to manage this second-generation prejudice yet for any group. As someone with educational and class privilege I can say that it's pretty easy to miss the depth of struggle involved for someone trying to work around/overcome prejudice; it can seem like no big deal until you get in the trenches. I don't think anyone's really immune to that.
Want to be part of this series and share your experiences and ideas about being gay, lesbian or bisexual and of color? We'd love to include you and get your voice out there. Drop us an email and we'll send you the questions!
Time for another installment of our first-person profiles of queer people of color, this one from a young man who talks very candidly about being on the down-low, masculinity and race.
Again, even if you're not of color and queer, not LGB or not of color, we think it's so important to cultivate an awareness of what it means to be not just a member of one of those groups, but of both. If you are queer and of color, what we're hoping this new series can do is help illuminate some of your own diversity, allow you to feel less isolated and know you're not alone. Queer youth (and queer people on the whole) are often isolated. That isolation hurts and can and does do very real damage. LGB young people who are also oppressed, marginalized and rendered doubly invisible because of race tend to face even greater challenges and isolation.
No matter who you are or what your deal is, we think you'll find these profiles challenge many perceptions and may make you reconsider or refine ideas or questions about orientation and race. We'd be lying if we didn't say it also helps you and others grow your compassion and your care, better understanding that every kind of marginalization and oppression both does very real harm and always has the capacity to do so, especially if it goes unseen and unheard.
Color/race you are/identify with: Black American
When did you realize you were gay, lesbian or bisexual? I've known that I am attracted to men* for as long as I can remember. I identify as a MSM or as "downe" rather than as bisexual.
How did you feel about that realization? Being attracted to men didn't bother me as much as how that attraction would play out. There aren't many black MSMs [men who sleep with men] in the media so it was hard for me to reconcile my race and my masculinity with my attraction to men. I felt as though I would be seen as weak or effeminate by others.
Have you been able to come out? I have friends I know through local queer groups that I am "out" to. The process was fairly easy because of how I met them. Personally, it's been difficult openly sharing this part of my identity - one that I keep a secret by choice - and feeling masculine despite that openness.
In my community, it's not same-gender attraction that is looked down upon, it's being open about that attraction. "Real" men can do whatever they want behind closed doors as long as the front they give to society is one of traditional heterosexuality. So telling others about my attraction somewhat diminishes my standing in my community.
That said, for me being "closeted" is as much a personal decision as it is one influenced by society. Being attracted to men isn't a big deal and I don't feel the need to build a big identity around it.
How supported do you feel by your own family and your community of color? My attraction to men is like an open secret in my family. Everyone understands that it's there, but we don't acknowledge it-- anyone can be attracted to men, but being Gay (socially, politically, etc. involved in the GLBT community) is a white thing. My family doesn't like it, but they accept it and they are supportive.
How about by the queer community? I'm not very much involved in the mainstream queer community. I go to parties with other MSM of color where I'm just another guy.
How has managing your romantic/sexual relationships gone? In what, if any, ways do you feel being a GLB person of color has impacted your relationships? I don't have romantic relationships as a result of my attraction to men. I regularly have sex with men, but I have no desire to be in relationships with them for a number of reasons. Even though I am polyamorous, I wouldn't want to be in a relationship with a woman who isn't aware that I have sex with men. Instead of telling a potential partner-- which is an affront to my identity-- I'd rather just not date.
What do you feel are particular challenges for gays, lesbians and bisexuals of color? I think the biggest challenge is educating the mainstream queer community about the different experience of people of color. For example, I am not a closeted bisexual, I am a MSM whose identity includes nondisclosure. In the mainstream community this doesn't make sense, but a lot of black MSMs understand that experience.
Does one kind of bias you face -- racism vs. homo/biphobia -- feel larger, more oppressive than the other? Can you talk about how? Racism is definitely a more oppressive force for me. Certainly, there are a lot of people who would be physically abusive if they knew of my attraction to men, but I have the freedom of choosing whether or not to disclose. With racism, my skin is like a marker of who/what I am and there's no way around it. Also, I am seen more threatening as a black man than a MSM, therefore institutions are more oppressive towards me. When hanging out with gay-identified friends, I've never been around followed in a store, when hanging out with other brothas it happens regularly.
Want to be part of this series and share your experiences and ideas about being gay, lesbian or bisexual and of color? We'd love to include you and get your voice out there. Drop us an email and we'll send you the questions!
If you're gay, lesbian or bisexual (LGB) and also of color, you don't need us to tell you how challenging that can be, nor that a lot of people -- especially those who aren't of color or who aren't queer -- don't realize, see or acknowledge much of what you've gone through or what you deal with. We're rolling out a new blog series today we hope can help counter that compound invisibility.
Even if you're not of color and queer, not LGB or not of color, we think it's critically important to cultivate an awareness of what it means to be not just a member of one of those groups, but of both. If you are queer and of color, what we're hoping this new series can do is help illuminate some of your own diversity, allow you to feel less isolated and know you're not alone. Queer youth (and queer people on the whole) are often isolated, and that isolation hurts and can do and does very real damage. LGB young people who are also oppressed, marginalized and rendered doubly invisible because of race tend to face even greater challenges and isolation.
No matter who you are or what your deal is, we think you'll find these profiles challenge many perceptions and may make you reconsider or refine ideas or questions about orientation and race. We'd be lying if we didn't say it also helps you and others grow your compassion and your care, better understanding that every kind of marginalization and oppression both does very real harm and always has the capacity to do so, especially if it goes unseen and unheard.
When we first put out a call for these profiles, the idea was to collect a bunch and then pick and choose answers to create a collective group roundtable. But the interviews we've gotten back say so many valuable, important things that editing or diluting them in any way seemed a big loss. What we've chosen to do instead is to run these in full in an ongoing series, and we hope you find them as enlightening, challenging and important as we do.
Color/race you are/identify with: Black American
When did you realize you were gay, lesbian or bisexual? I figured out my sexuality over a couple of years (although they felt ten times longer). Between the ages of 16 - 19, I questioned the thoughts I had about men and women. From the time that I started having fantasies, around age 10, I dreamt about men and women, but men filled my dreams more. Thus, I considered myself straight and brushed off my feelings for women. Besides, I became a Christian while in middle school - and my lustful feelings and my homosexual feelings conflicted with my religious beliefs. God knows I often was riddled with guilt when I acted on those feelings with myself.
How did you feel about that realization? When I entered high school, there was a shift and I started to fantasize about women a lot more. Again, I was riddled with guilt. "Sure, lustful feelings and masturbation could be forgiven and/or kept secret; however, if a homosexual spirit overtook me, I would be sinful for life whether I acted upon those feelings or not," I thought to myself.
At the same time that I had these thoughts, I started to question the Church's views on sexuality. Ironically, I had always been interested in learning about sex, sexual reproduction, and different cultures' views on sexuality. I mean, I was that 12 year old girl running around telling people about the history of vibrators, to the young and the old. By age 17, I educated myself enough to know that most people, including religious people, didn't think lustful feelings and masturbation were going to send someone to hell and that most people considered masturbation a normal, healthy act - at least Dr. Berman and the folks at Scarleteen did. So I was free of that guilt. Yet, the verdict on homosexuality was still unfavorable; it was a sin or it was weird and abnormal.
At age 17 during my senior year of highschool, I was at a crossroads. "Should I turn against my religious beliefs and how I was raised or should I listen to my heart and live the life that I want?" I chose to be a righteous Christian and a good daughter. I prayed at the altar many times my freshmen year of college. I even enlisted myself in a Prayer Warrior class, which required me to go to Sunday School every week. Yet, I felt more disconnected with my Faith each time I prayed about my "ungodly" feelings. I wondered, "Why am I trying to change who I am? If God didn't want me to have these feelings, wouldn't He easily take this thorn from my side, especially since I've prayed so much." I ask God to let me know if my feelings for women were wrong; I felt in my spirit that God did not believe it was so. Afterwards, I left the Church and would later become a spiritual, not religious, person.
Have you been able to come out? If so, can you tell us more about how that's gone/how that went for you? My sophomore year of college I starting coming out to myself more and more. I started eying girls on the streets, drooling and daydreaming over them, and yet my fantasies about men remained. I knew I was 'in-between' and probably would remain in-between. After doing some research on the web, I realized that I was either bi-curious or bisexual, terms I had never heard. Once I had my first real crush on this young woman at my college, I knew I was bi.
I came out to my parents probably too soon after realizing this fact; but I didn't want to lie to them about this part of me and I didn't want to lie to them about whom I was dating. One summer day, I prepared myself to come out to my mother. We were lying in bed and I told her. As I predicted, she responded, "I can't accept this. Your father and I both won't approve." Later on, she responded that I broke her heart for making this choice. The next day, I came out to my younger sisters, which was much more dramatic and hurtful than coming out to my parents. They pulled out the bible and told me it was a sin. I don’t know why but I expected that they would be way less judgmental. I guess I forgot we grew up in the same house. Over the next weeks, they both called me f*****, which hurt me so much. Luckily, my father chose not to talk to me, which was fine with me. At that point, I preffered the silent treatment than yelling.
I don't come out to my friends very easily. Actually I came out to my friends, except my best friend, after I came out to my family. My lack of experience in regards to dating and my bisexuality kept and keeps me from talking about my sexuality. I often think, "What's the point of coming out when I haven't even been intimate with anyone yet? I practically could be wearing one of those promise rings."
How supported do you feel by your own family and your community of color? Now, the drama is over in my family in regards to my (bi)sexuality. I feel like I can be myself around my family now that I've come out. They still believe that homosexuality is a sin and/or is weird; however, they don't treat me wrongly and have assured that they love me regardless. I even talk candidly about being my crushes and being queer around them. Coming out to my family has made it easier to come out to my extended family.
I feel that there is a diversity of opinions in all communities, including black communities. Each black person holds their own beliefs, are more or less willing to change their minds and hearts, and are influenced by their environment and identities in different ways.
For instance, some older black people grew up around LGBT people and may be more supportive of queer people. Some may still look down upon queer people because of they own thoughts or because of their religious beliefs. In addition, like most people in America, I have seen that many black youths use LGBT slurs to degrade each other and many black people believe bisexuality is disgusting, spreads diseases, and/or is not real.
How about by the queer community? Again, I find there is a diversity of opinions in all communities. The queer community is so fragmented. Most queer people I know embrace my brown skin and kinky-afro hair. I haven't dated so I don't know how much a hindrance my skin would be or how much racism still lurks in my local community. In regards to my bisexuality, I only know a few who are truly supportive. I still hear the whispers about "cross-overs" and the gasps when a lesbian is found to be dating a man. However, the LGBT student organization at my local university did bring in Robyn Ochs to speak; so open-mindedness is growing around the subject in my town; plus, they are looking at working with the black student center on our campus next year.
What do you feel are particular challenges for gays, lesbians and bisexuals of color? Generally, as people of color, we have to deal with systemic oppressions such as lack of quality education, housing, and employment. We also deal with less visibility and less opportunities to have our voices heard. Many communities and families have overcome these barriers but may still deal with subtle, exclusionary racism and stereotyping.
Internally, we deal with biphobia, homophobia, and transphobia as well. Many in our communities spread the same stereotypes about lgbt people such as they spread diseases, are sinful, and are abnormal.
Obviously, since we are small in numbers, forming relationships and friendships with people who look like you or who have similar experiences, if that's your goal, is challenging. LGBT people often need mentors or people to give them advice on being queer. Finding mentors of color might be difficult as well.
How do you feel others can help with those challenges? Support efforts to reduce poverty, to educate and train adults who were left behind, and to bring quality and comprehensive education to our children. Support other organizations/groups by attending functions and meetings, by donating funds and service, and by inviting people of different background to speak.
Create events for all people. Be inclusive.
Educate your own community about different communities. Share resources -( for instance, someone shared with me a website that talked about being queer and a Christian when I was questioning). Mentor others. Challenge stereotypes. Be an active bystander and do something when you see someone harm or degrade another.
Does one kind of bias you face -- racism vs. homo/biphobia -- feel larger, more oppressive than the other? Personally, I have been hurt by homo/biphobia in more direct and painful ways than by racism (i.e being called a f*****, being told that my identity is false).
Yet, do I see black and brown faces hypersexualized in the media (which our own communities consume)? Do I see black and brown faces demonized and portrayed as violent creatures in the media (not to say that violence in our communities in not outrageous)? Yes, I do know and see that racism still prevails.
However, I have a black family to comfort me if ever directly confronted with direct racism. In addition, society recognizes and supports the concept of race. In contrast, not everyone in society supports the concept of bi/homosexuality. So, I feel I can complain about the mistreatment of people of color but not so much about the mistreatment of lgbt people.
I guess I feel more support when dealing with racism in contrast to homo/biphobia.
What do you feel like LGB people who are not of color don't get about the differences being LGB of color? What about hetero white people: what do they miss?
Again, depends on the person. White LGB people may not fully understand how being less visible affects LGB people. They also may not understand cultural variations. The same goes for white hetero people; plus, many don't understand cultural variations within the queer communities and may not even know the "basics" about the LGBT community (i.e. what does LGBT mean?).
Want to be part of this series and share your experiences and ideas about being gay, lesbian or bisexual and of color? We'd love to include you and get your voice out there. Drop us an email and we'll send you the questions!
I'm thrilled to announce that beginning in May, Scarleteen will be welcoming CJ Turett as our part-time assistant director. We've never had an official assistant director before, but have wanted one for quite some time, and I can't conceive of a better person for the job. I am particularly delighted to bring someone into a position of leadership here who is a younger activist: part of serving younger people well involves making them an integral part of the organizations who serve them, which absolutely should include positions of leadership.
CJ is a has a master's degree in human sexuality education from Widener University and is currently pursuing an Ed.D. He has worked previously as a community educator at a domestic violence and sexual assault survivor service organization, as an HIV/AIDS and LGBT case manager for the Mazzoni Center, and most recently as the education coordinator for Answer and their Sex, Etc. website. He has lectured on numerous LGBT health and well-being issues over the last five years. CJ is a student member of the American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors, and Therapists (AASECT) and the Society for the Scientific Study of Sexuality (SSSS).
Because we're an open, personal bunch here, I want to share what I love about CJ and working with him, and why I think he'll be such a fantastic asset to our organization. CJ is not only intensely passionate about sex education, but about the kind of sex education we like to provide: inclusive, holistic, forward-thinking and humanistic. His idea of sex education is our idea of sex education. He's a strongly active and enthusiastic supporter of Scarleteen: CJ thinks the aims, goals and approach of Scarleteen are as great as I and millions of our users think they are. CJ implicitly understands that sexuality education should involve risk-management and issues of sexual and reproductive health, but that it also needs to equally address identity, pleasure and emotional and interpersonal well-being. CJ cares deeply about young people and other marginalized populations, and is a big-picture thinker; creative, energetic and deeply compassionate. He's got an overdeveloped sense of humor, which is a serious job requirement here. CJ also seems to understand my own creative process (which is amazing, since I'm not sure I understand it myself). Like myself, CJ never runs out of things to say or do.
CJ asks a lot of questions: with anything we have worked on together in the past couple of years, the level of discussion around articles or answers has been sophisticated and insightful. While in many ways we think similarly, CJ always has something to bring to the table I either wouldn't have thought about at all, or wouldn't have seen that way. Like myself, CJ is queer, feminist, progressive in his politics and has a longtime dedication to providing sex education. CJ brings a strong first-person understanding of the needs of trans people, younger people, access to certain kinds of healthcare and models of providing that care as well as organizational operations. I find the differences CJ brings to this partnership personally, intellectually and professionally a fantastic balance to my own personality, history and ethos.
Additionally, whereas I'm now on the west coast, CJ is on the east coast. This will allow us to do wider in-person lecturing, teaching-the-teacher/educator trainings and other outreach than we have been able to do in the past.
For the first couple of years I ran Scarleteen, I didn't get paid at all. What that meant was that I couldn't do Scarleteen full-time, but as time and my own resources allowed. This position will run much in the same way: CJ will only be working around 10 hours a week to start, as at this time, that is the most our budget can handle. We will, however, be applying for several grants this year, and our appeals to grantors will include funding for staffing. Ideally, to have Scarleteen run as well and efficiently as possible, the assistant director should be a full-time position, and my own position should not have to exceed the 40 hours a week it always does. That is one of our current long-term goals.
So, I'm also doing a bit of a fundraising nudge to help support this new position and CJ. My hope is that between grants and private donations we can eventually get to the point where CJs position is full-time and where both of us can make a living wage running the organization as a team. Two people managing an organization that serves just shy of a million young people each month is no less amazing in my book than one person doing it, but to do our best, we need to have our organization become better and more consistently financially supported.
Last year's fundraising went very well, which is why I can offer this position to CJ at all. If you didn't give last year, or did but can give again now, I'd very much appreciate your support, especially at this exciting turning point. If you'd like information on creating a private grant, either to help with staff salaries or to specifically fund certain content, please email me and I'd love to talk with you about that.
Heather Corinna
Founder & Executive Director, Scarleteen.com
Director, CONNECT sex education outreach, Washington
I get the impression that some, if not many of of our users think that condom failure rates are the same as condom breakage/slippage rates. In other words, think that when we explain that in typical use, condoms are 85% effective, that means that 15% of condoms break.
It doesn't: that is NOT what those rates mean. I hate for anyone to be presuming it is and to panic about a potential pregnancy via condom use because of that misunderstanding.
When we say condoms are effective 98% of the time in perfect use, that means that 2% of women using condoms (or, 2 out of every 100) as a sole method perfectly -- as in, following all the directions, including proper storage of condoms -- each year become pregnant. When we say they are 85% effective in typical use -- the way most people use them, which includes storing them incorrectly, putting them on wrong or too late or not using them at all -- that means 15% of women using them that way become pregnant in one year. People often forget that typical use rates for any method include people who really just aren't using that method: that some people who, when asked, say condoms are what they use as a method, have times when they simply aren't used, period. Same with typical use rates for the pill and other methods.
But condoms actually don't break very often, particularly when used perfectly. Here are a few quotes on that for you (bolding mine):
"Condoms hardly ever break if they are stored and used correctly. Studies show that latex condoms break only about 0.4% (4 out of 1000) of the time during the first five uses, and polyurethane condoms break 4% (4 out of 100) of the time during the first five uses." - http://www.youngwomenshealth.org/malecontraceptives1.html
"Men attending 3 sexually transmissible disease clinics and a university health service in Sydney were given a questionnaire asking how many condoms they had used in the past year and how many broke during application or use or slipped off. Respondents were 544 men aged 18 to 54 years. Of these, 402 men reported using 13,691 condoms for vaginal or anal intercourse; 7.3% reportedly broke during application or use and 4.4% slipped off. Men having sex with men reported slightly higher slippage rates than those having sex with women. Breakage and slippage were unevenly distributed among the sample: a few men experienced very high failure rates. A volunteer subsample reported 3 months later on condoms supplied to them: 36 men used 529 condoms, of which 2.8% broke during application or use and 3.4% slipped off. Many of these failures pose no risk to the user, especially those occurring during application, as long as they are noticed at the time, but failure may discourage future use." - from http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/8476971
"In an effort to define condom performance in a group of monogamous couples typical of those using condoms for contraception, we conducted a clinical trial of a single brand of lubricated condoms (Durex Ramses). A total of 4637 attempts to use the condom were evaluated. Six breaks occurred before intercourse (nonclinical breaks), and 10 condoms broke during intercourse or were only noted to have broken upon withdrawal (clinical breaks), resulting in a nonclinical breakage rate of 0.13% (95% confidence interval, 0.05-0.28%), clinical breakage rate of 0.28% (0.15-0.48%), and a total breakage rate of 0.41% (0.25-0.64%). The rate of complete slippage was 0.63% (0.42-0.90%), and total failure (clinical breaks plus complete slips) was 1.04% (0.76-1.37%)." - from http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/9306027
In other words, the rate of breakage/slippage is far, FAR lower than many think or assume, and is a much different figure than rates of effectiveness in typical or perfect use. A condom can break or slip off in EITHER kind of use, and is much more likely to with imperfect use, yet still, breaks and total slip-offs are actually pretty rare.
Want to be sure you're using condoms properly? Check it out: Condom Basics: A User's Manual. Remember that when it comes to preventing pregnancy from a condom failure, the key is using them correctly AND consistently: from start to finish, every time you have intercourse.
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