Professional (gender)Queer
This could have been exclusively in my personal blog, but I decided to to share it here as well. These experiences are not exclusive to spaces in which being queer is unsafe, but they also exist in countries and societies that we think of as being more accepting.
For queer and gender non-conforming people, new social interactions can be difficult. Even more so for those of us who can't hide as easily. We have to think about how safe we feel in this new social situation, who we feel can be trusted to treat us with respect and humanity, whether we want to avoid using gendered terms for ourselves, our partners, or our families, anticipating the ways in which we may need to defend our right to exist... every single new situation is one in which we may have to Come Out, again and again and again.
I haven't often had to face these situations in a way that ended negatively because it's been so easy for me to hide. I bid my time, observe people very carefully, and only open up if I feel that I can do so safely. It hasn't been a priority for me to correct the assumptions others make about my sexuality or, only for the last two years, my gender. When I did end up in uncomfortable conversations, it was almost always once someone knew me for a relevant length of time, and that pre-established connection acted as a shield for some of the more negative reactions that people may have otherwise had.
That being said, I am not the sort of person who can truly hide. It's always been important for me to be able to share my full-self with the people around me, or at least as much as I safely can share. I want that connection with people and I crave their acceptance, even as I remind myself that I don't need their approval to be worthy. I can keep other people's secrets just fine, but I find it difficult to live as one.
I know of at least two instances in which my openness has helped others to realize their own queerness and come to terms with themselves. And I am so, so proud of those people and my role in their future happiness. For others, simply knowing me has helped break away the fear of the unknown that so easily leads to hate of the Other. They may still not be welcoming with open arms, but even tolerance of my right to exist is a step in the direction towards acceptance.
As I began looking for work in The Netherlands, I assumed I would have less of a struggle as a genderqueer person in such a liberal and socially accepting country (spoiler alert, my assumption was partially wrong). I decided that it was important to me that others know who I am from the beginning, so I put my pronouns on my resume. It was also important for me to continue living the role of educator in situations where people may not have had a chance to interact with a genderqueer person before. Practice with me, someone who won't be offended when they mess up, so that their future interactions are more seamless.
Being so forward also comes with its own uncomfortable realities. When I'm the only one declaring my pronouns, it feels like I'm shoving my identity in other people's faces because there are very few situations in which sharing pronouns with introductions is standard. I'm nervous that it makes me look like an attention seeker, especially when there are often follow up questions or explanations of who I am that take up more time than other people are allotted who don't need to establish their identities because the assumptions that others make are actually correct.
Then, when people do start asking questions, how do I respond? Sometimes their questions are well-intentioned, but are steeped in so much ignorance that I could spend several days helping them unlearn and rebuild a proper foundation where my existence can be real to them. When this is a passing acquaintance, there's simply not enough time to do the conversation justice. When this is a professional situation, how can I say "you're really uninformed and neither of us have time for this" in a nice way that allows us to work well alongside one another? Slowly and with deliberation, for sure. But what about when it's the above situation AND the manner in which they engage is disrespectful and disregards not only my own comfort and safety in the conversation, but also my existence in the first place? Is it even worth my time to try? How firm should I be if/when I push back and set boundaries for our conversation, and possibly the whole working relationship?
And so, with my new employment, I've taken up the reins of my familiar role as Professional Queer and added a gendered element to it. The good news is that I am far from the only queer person at the office, in the context of sexuality at least. And as I move through my days, I will lay the groundwork for my queer siblings who come after me, not just in the office but also in the everyday lives of the people I am educating through my existence at work. I've only been on the clock for two days so far, but my openness and directness about who I am has already planted the seeds of progress with a private follow-up conversation afterwards.
It ends up all being worth it. I know that. I've lived that before. But, fuck, is it exhausting. And my anxiety, replaying every conversation and how I could have gone differently, feels absolutely relentless.
Check on your queer friends, folks. Use your cishet power to carve out space for your queer peers to be included without having to carve out the space for themselves. Because the thing is, new social interactions for us can be more than anxiety ridden and disrespectful like mine - harassment or violence is always a threat lurking under the surface for us, even when all we're trying to do is go to work.
Queer Fam - I love you. You are courageous, brave, and strong. You are valued, you are adored, and you are seen.
Comments
Post a Comment