blamebrampton | Musings

So many people on my flist have been upset by the death of Tyler Clementi, a young American student who jumped off the George Washington Bridge after his roommate broadcast images of him having sex with another man on the internet.

And that's a proper thing. It should upset people.

But it should also inspire people to act.

Write for the fandom meme that's going around if you want, but, more usefully, act locally.

Smile when you see same-sex couples, smile that 'Ah, young love ...' smile that Maurice Chevalier perfected. Especially if you're 20 and they're 60.

If you're at school, support your GLBT clubs. Do what you can for their campaigns, because you benefit from them even if you're straight.

If there are GLBT political issues ongoing in your local area, from gay adoption or marriage to literature 'promoting homosexuality' in schools (many of you are too young to remember Clause 28, which is a Good Thing), write to every political figure you can think of on the topics: conservative as well as liberal. Write to the ones who are dead against it, because you will at the very least remind them that their prejudices are not universal, and may help to humanise issues that they have somehow managed to look at through the lens of 'The Other'.

Refuse to accept 'The Other', even if you're as straight as a straight thing. Biologically, morally, logically, there is no 'other' about it. Personalise the issues, because the prejudice is all personal bullshit, so why should we be denied our personal stories in response? When I hear someone pontificating 'Will no one think of the children?' I pick up my pen and say 'I was one of the children, and now I am an adult and I am happy and fabulous.' The number of times I have been able to cut through bullshit by saying 'you are talking about my mother' is remarkable. 'You are talking about my brother, my friend, my doctor, me ...' is so powerful, just have those conversations.

Question prejudice when you see it. You don't have be confrontational, a simple 'Why do you believe that?' or 'Does that make any sort of sense in terms of the real world?' can work wonders. I remember being a young woman and seeing a gang of skinheads hassling two Chinese students, so I went up to them and asked them about their philosophy. They told me white made right, I pointed out that I was far whiter than any of them, and that I thought they were wrong, so by their logic, I was righter than they were. They told me I had no idea, but backed down and left, because there is nothing more embarrassing than monstering a five-foot-one girl with pigtails. It wasn't dangerous -- people are reluctant to do more than sneer at those who question them in good faith, and we can all cope with a sneer. It appalls me that it was my whiteness that made me so safe in that situation, but given there was no risk, it was incumbent on me to speak. For many straight people confronted with homophobia, there is a chance to speak in similar safety -- take it. The worst response likely is the disdain of people whose good opinion is clearly not worth having.

And finally, keep an eye out for each other. Keep each other safe. There are all sorts of calls for Something To Be Done, but bugger waiting for laws, be there yourselves. The two kids who set the video of Tyler streaming anounced it on their Twitter stream. At least 150 other kids had access to that information, but none of them went round to bang on Tyler's door. Some of his classmates have been reported as saying they would have been there if he called, make the call yourself. Be the person who smiles and is friendly, rather than the one who looks away, or the one who is a bit of a cunt, because it's easier.

And be that person generally, even if it doesn't seem important at the time. When I was 20 I ran into a boy I had known in first year at uni. He insisted on buying me a cuppa, which I thought was a bit weird, because I did not really know him well. He told me a story about a party at a mutual friend's house two years earlier, and asked if I remembered talking to him at it. As it happened, I did. He had been looking bored, and I was a bit drunk, so I sat down with him and chatted about why Morrissey was a wanker and other important mid-80s issues, and made him laugh with my Morrissey impersonation. After a while, I swanned off with his hot mate and thought nothing more of it. Two years later he told me that he had decided no one cared, and was going to kill himself after the party, but because I had thought it worth sitting down and chatting with him, he'd changed his mind.

To this day that sends chills down my spine, because I had no idea. I didn't talk with him out of any sense of Doing Good, or of cheering up the woebegone, or being a saintly person (I'm not, I was there for sex, and went off with the hot friend), I talked with him because I was a tipsy show-off and he looked like someone I could be a goose with for half an hour until I had a better offer.

And I stammered something to that effect, and he patted me on the head and said, 'Yeah, you're still a bit of a goose, but all I needed was someone to sit down with me for a bit and smile, and you did that.'

Since then, the smiles of strangers, and the carelessly given time of acquaintances and friends have sometimes lifted me on days when things seemed very dark indeed. The power of kindness, the grace of a gentle word, of acceptance and understanding, cannot be overstated.

And perhaps that kid on the train you smile at is a kid who is having the worst day of his life, who needs a moment of grace to remind him that it does get better and that how he feels now is not how he will feel forever.

Because learning that lesson gets you through everything else. It's just a matter of learning it in time.

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libby-drew.livejournal.com

Awesome post, B. Thanks.

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