Strongly Worded

Get Thee to the Cinema

On Friday night I attended a lovely party thrown by an officemate, which I almost skipped out on because of transportation issues. The hostess, who had invited many people from the GBLT community, ultimately convinced me to attend, assuring me that I wouldn’t be “in the heterosexual minority”. I found this hilarious, because--hello!--I attended a women’s college, and at one time lived in a dorm in which 75% of the residents identified as lesbians.

Then, on Saturday night, I saw Brokeback Mountain, which has become known as the "Gay Cowboy movie." The movie is beautiful and heart-wrenching, the kind of movie that makes you ache (in a good way). As you probably know, this film has generated incredible hype, such that that the theater was completely packed and I ordered tickets days in advance. As the theater filled, one of my friends commented that, “this whole audience consists of gay people or people who want to see gay people getting it on.” I was a bit taken aback, and I hope she thought that I fell into the first category, provided, of course, that it included “gay allies.” In college, there was a lot of debate over whether our GLBT organization should be called GLBT-A, such that the name of the group would represent the straight people on campus considered themselves allies.
I never considered myself an ally until then (although I didn't--and still don’t--think that the name of the group needed to include Allies—would people want the NAACP to be called the National Association for Advancement of Colored People and Their Allies?). I grew up in a really progressive town, and our high school had a Gay-Lesbian Alliance, and during my senior year, the homecoming queen was a guy who routinely wore skirts to class.

So, interestingly, being gay never seemed novel or controversial until I got to college, where I was surrounded by gay women, many of whom felt free to express their sexuality for the first time in their lives. (I was also surrounded by LUGs (lesbians until graduation), for whom involvement with other women was a short-lived experiment that generated contempt from many of the “real” lesbians.) Because college was such an unusually safe space, it pushed women to be Lesbians with a capital L—to love very loudly, if you will. Lots of women shaved their heads, donned leather jackets, and embraced many labels that would be considered offensive in other contexts. In some ways, it was a very polarized community, and there was a lot of pressure to fit into this specific, butchy image of how a lesbian should look and act.

The experience was illuminating. The first-year orientation included a “Lesbian 101” workshop, in which a panel of older students freely and matter-of-factly explained about homophobia and the mechanics of lesbian sex. (I was riveted.) Then, during parents’ weekend, I watched as people stuffed themselves—and their Pride paraphernalia—back into their closets. And I learned not to take this openness and tolerance for granted.

During my sophomore year, I became an ally officially, which basically meant that I represented the straight community (!) during the Lesbian 101 talk. And because they were all around me, I developed strong feelings about gay and lesbian issues. And I’ve since become very interested in the complicated experiences GBLT people have in our culture, and am outraged by the persistent bullshit put forth by hate-mongering conservatives. I say this not because I want you all to think I'm such a saintly progressive person (aka the kind of white person who claims to lack prejudice because she has black friends), but because it's interesting to reflect on why I wanted to see Brokeback Mountain during its premiere weekend and why I wasn't just there for the potential peep-show aspect.

Anyway. I loved the movie, and I’m glad that it’s come out (ha), because it is a relatively mainstream film that depicts a love story, and the characters happen to be gay people, who are not caricatures. I think a major strength of the film is that the story would work almost as well if the two lovers were straight. (And there really isn’t much sex in it, in case you were wondering).

Posted by Dori at 12:33 PM