Thursday, October 22, 1998
Visibility first step to nurture acceptance of homosexuality
HOMOPHOBIA: Gays should assert themselves openly to fight
prejudice
By Megan Hall
For one-and-a-half years I walked into the lab where I work
without my freedom rings on. I took the button off my backpack that
read, "Don’t presume I’m straight." I took off my rainbow bracelet.
And I changed pronouns when I spoke so I never used "she" or "her,"
but simply "we" or "they." I figured that if people wanted to know,
they would ask, and if they asked, I would tell. I didn’t realize
that this attitude was more damaging to my self-esteem and to the
community than any outside attack would have been. I am ashamed
that I hid who I was for so long, thinking that the truth would
cause people to hurt me. It was hiding myself for so long that hurt
me more than anything.
I am a lesbian, I am out, and I am damn proud.
The death of Matthew Shepard is a hallmark of the pathetic
ignorance that still runs rampant in society. It makes me sick that
a young man would be bludgeoned to near death and tied to a fence
post in near-freezing weather for simply living his life, without
hurting or threatening anyone. That young man lost his life because
of somebody else’s prejudice and homophobia, somebody else’s
insecurity, and not for any other reason. It scares me that
something like that could happen anywhere, and it scares me more
that I feel like it could happen here.
The homophobia I deal with is not blatant, but there is
homophobia spread all over UCLA, in the class I taught as a
teaching assistant last year, on Bruin Walk, in Westwood, in my
lab. I am not called a dyke as I walk down the street, nor am I
confronted by angry heterosexuals who are threatened by my
sexuality. I am not beaten nor attacked, but then I look
"straight," whatever that means.
The homophobia I deal with comes in the form of jokes I hear
from across the room, from my friends refusing to put their names
on the Out List to support me (even though supporters are included
in the list), from students calling each other fags in my class,
from men asking to watch or to join, from people  even my
sister  using the word "gay" in a derogatory way without
considering that gee, I’m gay, and gee, I might be offended by
that.
Homophobic attitudes are so deeply ingrained in society that
they are often subtle and almost unrecognizable. These forms
perpetuate the greater attitudes and the feeling that homophobia is
still an OK type of discrimination.
I am sick of being invisible. It is invisibility that allows the
hate bred from ignorance to continue; no one is forced to know any
gays, lesbians, bisexuals, or transgenders if they don’t see any,
and it so much easier to hate what you don’t know and can’t see.
There are no out lesbians that I know of in my department, or in
the program I am in, or  to my knowledge  in my field
of study here at UCLA.
I am the only one.
There were only two graduate students in the sciences on the Out
List. I was one of them, and the only female. I used to be
frightened of upsetting or offending people with my sexuality, like
it was something I was doing wrong by being gay. I have come to
realize, over the years, that homophobia is a product of ignorance,
oftentimes of stupidity and stubbornness. So I used to change my
pronouns, take off my freedom rings. I didn’t want to hurt my
career.
I was invisible. Invisibility perpetuates the ignorance and the
hate that stems from it, and without even knowing I was doing it, I
was allowing it to go on. I refuse to be a part of that.
Gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people are everywhere.
We are in your classrooms, sitting next to you at lunch, teaching
your children, enforcing your laws, and curing your diseases. We
are your doctors and lawyers, bus drivers and bank tellers. We are
everywhere. It is sad that there is still so much inequality, so
much prejudice and so much hate. It is sad that people have to
worry about job security for falling in love.
It is sad that a man lost his life for simply living it. One can
only hope that something positive comes from Matthew Shepard’s
death, that people are compelled to make changes to the homophobic
attitudes in the country, at the university, in their homes, so
that this young man did not lose his life in vain.
Visibility is the first step toward change, and it takes one
person at a time. Well, I am one person, and I am visible.
I am a lesbian, I am out, and I am proud.
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