It’s amazing what art can do to the human heart. Powerful enough stories can move us beyond where we thought we could go and open our eyes to perspectives we never considered. I write this on the heels of my first watch of Fellow Travelers which, for those not in the know, is a limited series telling the story of two gay men who meet and fall in love in McCarthy’s America.
While I could write an entire memoir about how this show impacted me and why it is so important and profound, I want to instead address cisgender gay men directly. Specifically those who are fighting to separate themselves from queer and trans people.
I finally understand.
I understand why you turn your backs on us. Why you choose to only fraternize and fornicate with those who look, dress, and act like you; who don’t challenge your view of yourself. It is all you have ever been allowed to know.
For a time, it was all any queer people were allowed to know. It wasn’t until 2003 that homosexual activity stopped being a criminal offense nation wide. Before many of the major milestones in queer liberation (Milk, Stonewall, etc), queer people were forced to live double lives. Worse, those who couldn’t or chose not to were tasked with concealing themselves lest they face social and legal repercussions.
For many, the mindset that required gay men to operate in the shadows hasn’t gone away, it’s simply taken a new form. Park bathrooms have become Sniffies. Queer speakeasies have become club darkrooms. Of course it is much safer now than it was before to be a gay man, but there are many cases where social stigmas that still exist require these men to continue living their lives from the closet. And gay men will continue to do so. No longer because their safety or their jobs are at risk, but because it is easier.
It is easier to go to your finance job, stay single, and only let yourself be open in gay safe spaces. It is easier to publicly condemn your trans and queer siblings to avoid being labeled a “groomer” or a “predator” by those who would just as soon see you go down with us. Gay men continue to hide because they can. They have a luxury that isn’t afforded to trans people.
Even during the AIDS epidemic, a time when the US government allowed its queer citizens to die, gay men could hide. Those who weren’t positive could stand and fight with their community or hide under their curtain of normalcy, exploring their loves and fears in silence and solitude.
Gay men will always have their safe havens; their Fire Islands, Eagles, etc. They can retreat behind excuses and social coding for as long as they breathe air, but they will never be able to hide from themselves.
It was Hawk’s story that brought upon this realization. His is not merely a story of reverence but a tale of warning. He spent his entire life cutting people off to avoid being hurt or inconvenienced and he ended up by himself. Both his real and false identities crashed around him. By the end, his queer allies had all but lost faith in him and the family he’d spent years crafting was splintered. His story is important, not just because it offers insight into the emotional and political trials of our queer forebears, but because of how he chose to handle them. At every turn, he chose himself over community. In the end that choice doomed his connection to both.
Fellow Travelers made me realize that, at least for queer people living in a country still attacking our freedoms, choosing your community IS choosing yourself.
To the men who would prefer to hide; who find it easier to fall into old patterns of behavior that were for so long forced upon us I beg you: Please break the cycle. You need not hide. Unlike in the mid 20th century, we live in a time where our collective voice has an unprecedented strength and reach. It is no longer necessary to live your lives in the shadows. We have reached a point in history where we can let queer and trans people fight alone and be vilified by those who don’t understand us or don’t know better. Or we can all come together to ensure what happened in Germany in the 1930s doesn’t happen again. We can come together to make sure we don’t have to make AIDS quilts for our trans sisters. We can come together to make sure the queer people of our future don’t have to lose another entire generation of elders.
Trans people are being attacked in America, but not like we’ve never seen. History is repeating itself. Our government and many of our fellow citizens are choosing normalcy over humanity. The system over the people.
Please don’t turn on us. Think about how much more difficult it will be to take the easy road when it no longer exists. Without trans people to scapegoat, gay safe spaces are the next targets. Those safe spaces, that would not have been possible without trans women like Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson and so many more, would no longer be safe. And you would be standing alone.
Without us there is no you and without you there is no us. We are and always will be stronger together. In this time of crisis for the trans community, it is those who have the ability to exist passably in normalcy who will turn the tide. Those who have made up their minds about queer and trans people won’t be swayed by looking at us and being reminded of our humanity. But maybe learning about their peers, those who they view as one of them, will bring about change.
So the choice is yours. You can support the “LGB without the T” propaganda and bite the hand that has uplifted you, supported you, and thrown bricks for you. Or you can choose to recognize us for what we are. People. People who love and err and feel and fight and deserve the same freedoms we helped achieve for you. But know that if you choose to fight with us, you will never fight alone. Queer and trans people have NEVER failed to join the fight for queer liberation and this one is no different. We are here to stay and so are you.
Let’s create a world where you are no longer the only person you can trust. Let’s break the boundaries and cycles forced upon us by others. Let’s rise up together. For a better, freer, safer, and more honest tomorrow.