ALUMNI QUARTERLY
FALL 1999

In Search of Ordinary Joes

by Andrew James

 

I am writing to complain about recent positive depictions of gay people. Well, complain is too strong a word; I mean "express caution." Let me assure you that I'm not part of the religious right and that I am myself gay. The change in the portrayal of gay people in the last five or six years has been breathtaking. I see the film Philadelphia as a watershed. Sure, the hero was dying (gays in film and literature are often punished) and pretty much asexual, but it was nevertheless nice, likeable Tom Hanks playing the homosexual. There's been no looking back.

More recent, happier movies spring to mind, such as My Best Friend's Wedding and The Object of My Affection. Gay characters in these movies demonstrate "typically" gay traits: they're handsome, artistic, sensitive and stylish. Rupert Everett in My Best Friend's Wedding was particularly superb. These gay characters are not merely okay, they're better than straight men. In fact, after these movies lots of women wanted a gay best friend. That's where my problem begins. I think we are setting too high a standard for what being gay means.

Let me say here that I am referring almost exclusively to gay men. This is partly because it is the only experience I can even try to speak for, and also because I don't think lesbians face quite the same problem (they may have others). Ellen de Generes may or may not be funny, but nobody suggests she's ideal. Straight men don't ask their girlfriends why they can't be more like their lesbian friends, while the reverse sometimes occurs, straight women complaining that their boyfriends don't listen to them or window-shop as patiently as their gay pals.

I think we're crossing a line past which "gay positive" becomes, pardon the pun, a straitjacket. Acceptance of gays is becoming too closely linked with our good qualities. By all means, let's celebrate the achievements of gay people - as we would anybody's. Sure, let's be proud of who we are and what we accomplish. But if we're not careful, too much emphasis on achievements will come back to haunt us.

Society should accept gays because human decency requires it, not because gays are smart and sensitive and can cook. We shouldn't have to "deserve" basic dignity and rights. We don't need a function any more than anybody else does. It's like being a member of a family: you just are. We shouldn't be included simply because parties don't plan themselves.

The images aren't much better balanced outside Hollywood films. This may come from the theory that gay adolescents, unable to flourish socially in their repressive heterosexist environments, sublimate their sexual energy and work harder. This might explain the tremendous drive shown by Olympic medallist Mark Tewkesbury, who recently came out. Andrew Tobias, author of the classic Best Little Boy in the World, says he sublimated sexual energy to excel in studies and athletics. Similarly, political journalist Andrew Sullivan writes that repressed sexuality explains his early academic success and status as a star debater. I have seen other examples in organizations or schools starring gay superachievers.

I'm not suggesting that this isn't the experience of many gay men, but we can be pretty sure it isn't everybody's. Not every gay adolescent is an overachiever. Despite recent progress, growing up gay is still for many an isolating experience. So consider the pressure for kids who realize first that they're excluded from the sexual majority, then feel inadequate even within the minority because they're not handsome, smart, artistic, sensitive and well-dressed like all the gay people they see. It's a recipe for self-esteem disaster.

I know that for a long time positive gay role models were scarce, but we seem to be overcompensating. This isn't a problem that the media can solve by returning 180 degrees to negative depictions. Frankly, I'm ambivalent about the idea of a gay Roseanne, Married With Children or The Simpsons designed to show that gays can be just as acrimonious and slothful as anybody else. That's surely not the answer.

What we need now is for more ordinary gay people to be visible. I can't begin to explain how many worlds away an Olympic swimmer would have seemed to me when I was a teenager. It's not that straight kids don't see straight athletes and other successful people, but they are also surrounded, daily, by millions of ordinary straight people. Strange as it might sound, we need more banal gay role models. What about someone who might live on my street? What about a teacher or somebody's uncle? Gay Pride parades, it's true, offer huge numbers of ordinary-looking people; but by the time the gay teen has made it there, he's probably well on his way. I'm concerned about reaching him when he's still in his suburb or small town and the only gay people he sees are the stars I've mentioned. He knows he's not straight, but he's not like them either.

Raising the profile of banal homosexuals... It's not going to be fabulous, it's not going to be cutting edge, but I think it's got to be the next wave of the gay movement.

Andrew James (not his real name) is a student at McGill.