Blogging for LGBT Families: Dear Ellen

If unusual for you.

I recall my first stops in places where we have imprinted in our minds only the projections of someone's two dimensional views of a given locale. For those beyond you, that is those who don't know I'm northern New England, I mention it now.

In 1979, I was in the beginnings of an insurance career. In my second phase of training (after six weeks of January Buffalo, where I was propositioned by a hooker and word was spread throughout that five story workplace before I even began my day) it was March Hauppauge (Long Island.) At the end of the week, several of us flew home via LaGuardia, save for different destinations. We missed our exit off the Expressway, and it was on ito Brooklyn. We get off the highway, and two of us, one being me, the other a black woman from Buffalo, walk into a service station where at least seven guys of colour chatted, asking for directions. Both of us were quite skittish. What we got were the directions, and well wishes. Lesson.

Fast forward to 2003 Georgia, my first visit anywhere in the South, meeting up with friends. On one day, they decide to go to a Harley shop... this is my first time *ever* crossing gender lines, and I'm 1300 miles from home. When this is proposed, I had no clue, for all I know the whole world could tell I'm a trannie. I'm thinking Harley shop, Georgia, rednecks, and I'm gonna die.

Funny thing is, no one noticed, and everyone was nice. Same thing weeks later in Knoxville, months later in Gainesville, and further west, OKC.

Yes, I know homophobia is there. I know it is here, too. There is a difference, and it isn't because of one being better than the other. Us Yankees have our quirks and grumbles and orneriness's. It's what you are used to. I lived through homophobia here, it kept me closeted for 40 plus years. I just think doors open differently there than here. I know what gets them open here, I don't know what does there.

Which I guess is a long way of saying I wonder if Ellen can open doors there.

Year after year this time of year, I read of students denied. Denied permission to bring a same sex date to a prom, denied the right to be their gender at the prom. This year, I read a story about a tg student - in Florida - *encouraged* to attend the prom in gender by the school principal. Oh, there was some student harassment, but this student had a support network in place to stand strong, and that makes a huge, huge difference.

That tells me there is change underway. It may not be where we would like it to be, and it may frustrate the hell out of me when I see stories of people slighted and post them, but I know the subtle clues are there such that I can read them from afar.

It may not be Ellen that changes things, it might well be the people on their own, with the help of the brave souls who stand and say 'this is who I am'. When that happens, no one can say there aren't any of them around here.

nellewrites ( http://nellewrites.wordpress.com/ )

They would have opened the doors, picked up a napkin, excused their language in front of ladies should they have used "language."

And there you run into the difference between the north and the South.

It isn't clueless about the world (and an overbroad generalization I think) that bothers me. It is the oh so "civilized" people of Chicago who won't say there aren't ho-mo-sex-you-alls in their town, they just hate. From the woman on the corner who shoos her children or makes them turn around when we drive or I walk by to the hate in the streets for anyone different and everyone up here is different in some hated way or another.

Or maybe I just understand the south more. It is easy and warm and home training means even if someone appears to be different, you have to be polite long enough for that person to become a PERSON--not something like a javelina or to break those stereotypes.

Retro-Food.com

As mentioned above--my mother watches Ellen. I have spoken about this to other lesbian/genderqueer people and those with parents in their lives often have a parent who watches Ellen. Somehow Ellen being a LESBIAN, yet embodying all that is cute and wonderful about their own children makes that lesbian part ok...or something. It amuses me in a way. <

In another way it is not unlike the Oprah thing--people saying "I like Oprah; so I am not a racist."

And Ellen, I have to admit a deep and abiding crush in that it is good to see a goofy, dancing in public, woman on tv. (ok and your eyes too...) I have always pretty much thought I would be you. (If I had blonde hair, had gone into comedy and show business and yet still was the me I am because I didn't.)
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Retro-Food.com

The more you're exposed to something, the more normal it becomes. Not that TW and I are anything like normal but we're not that weird. ;-)

~Denise
BlogHer Community Manager
Life. Flow. Fluctuate.

Something happens with repeat exposure to something slightly different than what you grew up with.

I started watching Battlestar Gallactica recently, and for the first few episodes, I totally reacted to the fact both men and women in authority were referred to as "sir." It made me question the word, what it meant, and when I realized it really meant "respect" more than "male," I decided I really liked it. Maybe it started out with males, but now it's just "sir."

Several shows later, I realized I didn't even notice the "sir" anymore -- I'd thought about it, made my decision that I accepted it, and then very quickly became completely unaware of the difference.

Repeat exposure gets you thinking, and then not thinking -- because it's no longer new and different.

Rita Arens authors Surrender Dorothy ( http://bit.ly/Qp0sS ) and is the editor of Sleep is for the Weak ( http://tinyurl.com/9pg62e ). She is BlogHer's assignment and syndication editor.