If you fall into that category, please don't come away from this post thinking that I'm trying to make you feel shame or that I'm calling you a monster.
Instead, what I'd like you to come away from this with is a better understanding of why it's important to think outside your usual realm of experience, why it's important to listen to other people's stories, and that changing your mind or your perspective when presented with new information isn't hypocrisy. It's growth. It's development. It's healthy. And will enable you to be more loving and respectful to the people that you care about.
This recent climate of dissent, protest, plague, politics, and division has made blood rise on all sides of the situation. Our country is a broken mess. Our lives have been turned upside-down by a pandemic. No one gets paid enough to keep up with the economy. Unemployment is high. Morale is low.
If you're a basketcase right now, you're not alone. We're all there.
That's partly why some of the internet fights lately have been worse than ever before. Our blood is up, our patience is down, and the division between sides on so many issues is wide. These are not small political opinions anymore. These are dramatic, paradigm-altering issues that can literally mean life vs. death for the people affected by them.
It is no longer a matter of 'agree to disagree'. When lives are on the line, the stakes are too high to accept stalemate.
That's why I've been fighting as much as I have. Why I insist on people wearing masks during a literal pandemic. Why I insist on them taking a stand against police brutality. Why I insist on them treating other orientations, religions, and races with respect, rather than hostility. Protecting the safety of those around you is not an opinion.
That's also why so many people that I've known for literal decades think that I now hate them. That's why people that I have been close friends with through good times and bad think that I want to shame them. How many times have I been told, in the past several weeks, that not agreeing with their points of view is the same as not listening, not caring, and being closed-minded? Too many to even remember.
I still love these friends and family members, even if they think I don't. But when the stakes are this high, I'm also not going to stop talking about these issues. And I'm not going to stop being firm in where I stand on them.
One of the phrases I see very often in this kind of discussion, (in various iterations) is the idea of
"I Just Don't See You That Way."
This one is tricky, because it really does sound loving, at first glance.
"I don't like this talk about race. But it's not because I'm racist. I just don't see color." Or "When I look at you, I don't see gay. I just see the funny, stubborn-headed girl I made friends with ten years ago." Or "I can't possibly be prejudiced against you in the workplace because I don't see you as a woman. I see you as a coworker."
Many of these phrases are a step in the right direction. We can't pretend that they aren't often used by people who are trying their best. I was in this group too, not that many years ago. The intent behind them is clearly (for most users) a sincere attempt to put people on a level playing field. We're all humans. We all deserve an equal chance.
Here's why it's a good step, but not enough of a step: It entirely ignores the beautiful diversity of our species.
Hair color is a great way to look at this issue. Humans come with all sorts of hair colors naturally. Where your genes are from affect its shade, curliness, thickness, shape, and even the direction it grows on your head. These things make everyone's head of hair (or lack thereof) just a little bit different. But we don't walk around pretending like that uniqueness doesn't exist.
We don't dye everyone's hair the same color for a movie because "we don't see color". We see color. We're a visual-based species. And even the exceptions to that (people who are blind, color blind, or have other vision-impairments) still recognize that having different hair is a thing.
With some limitations, we're quite good at celebrating those differences. We have movies whose protagonists sport every hair type it's possible to have. From Merida in Brave, who is proud of her wild masses of bright red curls, to Mulan, whose sleek black hair becomes a symbol of taking her father's place in the draft, when she cuts it.
The Cosby Show is as much a celebration of Black beauty, history, and culture as it is a sitcom. Mad Max: Fury Road has the lead female be totally bald and badass without stripping her of her femininity. This is something we're getting better at every day. And no one thinks it's weird to recognize when someone is ginger, and someone else is brunette, because that's just a thing that will exist, whether or not we talk about it.
Pretending that hair color isn't a thing would be more than just silly. It would be absurd.
Feeling awkward about describing which characters in the novel were blonde would be ridiculous and strange. So why are we awkward about describing other characteristics of those people? Why do we tiptoe around it, and end up using even more uncomfortable comparisons and metaphors to get it across?
Well, it's true that race, orientation, gender, and culture are harder to talk about, sometimes, because we as humans are weird about accepting things that are different than ourselves. It's going to take a lot more work before we're totally clear of arbitrary race prejudices or totally accepting of non-dominant religions. We're not where we need to be on that kind of thing.
But ignoring it isn't going to get us there. The longer we ignore it, the longer we'll feel awkward talking about it.
Being Black, or being gay, or being muslim, or being gender non-conforming is gonna exist and be there whether we talk about it or not. So we might as well just get talking.
I don't want you to "not see" the whole me.
There are a lot of different traits and characteristics that define me as a person. I am a major nerd. I sing all the time. I love watching movies with people. I am an extrovert with awkward social anxiety. I play DnD and other tabletop RPGs. I play the flute. I'm learning the guitar. I am a professional writer. I am a professional editor. I make Harry Potter wands. I'm really good at making pork roast or stew in the crock pot. (Like, really, really good.) I study two sword arts. (Well, when we're not on lockdown, anyway.)
My music tastes are all over the place, from the Carpenters and Disney to Def Leppard and some Nirvana, and even a little bit of country. (A lot o bit of Dolly Parton.) I love old, cheesy, campy Adam West Batman and the gritty post-apocalyptic world of Mad Max. The proper-yet-absolutely-biting retorts in Jane Austen novels to the parody genius of Galaxy Quest. The almost lyrical British whimsy of Dodie Smith's 101 Dalmatians to the no-nonsense fact reporting of Dracula.
The list of ways I could describe myself is long. So many parts and tastes and personality traits make up who I am. Some of them are smaller and less important than others, in the grand scheme of things, but they are still all mine. Taking away some of those things would be to take away parts of me.
I don't want to get all excited telling you about what we did in my sword class last week only to have you remark "I mean, you do you, but I just don't see you that way. When I look at you, I don't see a fearsome sword warrior. I just see the funny girl I made friends with all those years ago."
Does that feel a little weird to you? It sure does to me. It's not real positive to have someone reply to your excitement over a hobby with "yeah... I refuse to acknowledge this aspect of you. I don't see it." Nothing about it feels loving. Just a judgmental sense that what I am doing is not acceptable, and maybe I shouldn't be doing it.
"You're okay with me, but only part of me. Not the whole package."
Sword training is a thing I have a choice about. If I was even remotely embarrassed by that, I could work to change it. I could try to find a new hobby I care about following, or avoid media from certain genres. Something. But there are things I don't have choices about.
I was born with dark brown hair, and I have always had dark brown hair. I like having dark brown hair. It's a good color, and makes good contrast with my face. If I was blonde, that just wouldn't work for me very well.
But if, for some strange reason, I brought up my brown hair to someone who replied with "I just don't see you that way. I think of you as (all these other things), but not as a brunette." I wouldn't be able to come away from that with any other message than "this person doesn't want to recognize that I have brown hair."
And then, by extension, "this person thinks I should be ashamed to have brown hair." Since I'll have naturally brown hair either way, it's easy to start feeling like this thing which is a natural part of me is bad. And that means I'm bad.
If you get told something often enough by people, you start to believe it. Even if it doesn't make much sense, and is definitely untrue. Even if it's not conscious.
When someone talks about being Black, and you reply with "I don't see color" you're not saying you love them and accept them. You're saying that being Black is a thing that you try not to look at. That you accept them as a person except for the aspect of Blackness. You're saying that talking about being Black isn't okay. You're saying that you refuse to recognize this aspect of that person. An aspect that defines so much about who they are culturally, genetically, and historically.
When you refuse to recognize an aspect of someone in this way, you're not being loving. You're telling them very directly that you get to pick and choose which aspects of their make up are acceptable to look at.
You are telling them that not all of the aspects that make up who they are are valuable. That some may even be shameful or embarrassing. And if those aspects happen to be inborn... well, you just told them they're broken.
Do you want to know why suicide rates among LGBT+ folks are so high? It's this. Some people are overtly homophobic and bully people who are different. But others who think they are loving say stuff like "Oh, honey. I don't see you that way." Translation: I love the parts of you that aren't gay.
But the gay doesn't go away just because you refuse to see it there as part of who someone is. And when everyone implies that gayness is something that can't even be looked at... you can figure out the rest.
Black people don't want you to pretend they're not Black. They just want you to not kill them over it. To not see it as not a problem, but as something that is a beautiful and unique measure of the broad spectrum that humanity can be.
Gay people don't want you to pretend they're not gay. They just want you to not want to kill them over it. They want you to recognize and celebrate that humans come in all kinds of shapes, sizes, and yes, orientations, and that they are more than just this one attribute.
Trans people don't want you to pretend they don't exist. They just want you to not kill them over it. They want to be able to go to a doctor and not have that person refuse to treat them. They just want you to recognize and celebrate that there is a lot of diversity in the human race, and that these uniqueness are what make us awesome.
I don't want you to pretend that important parts of who I am are just not there.
They make up who I am whether you like it or not. Acknowledging it, accepting that it exists, and talking about is the only way to be truly loving and truly respectful in the way that you intend to be.
Diversity is not the problem. We shouldn't be blind to it. The problem is treating the diversity with prejudice, bigotry, or suspicion. That's what we need to stop. But we can't, unless with recognize it's there.
Not being overtly hateful and prejudiced is good, but it's not the end goal. The next step is to accept the broad and beautiful diversity of humanity in the same way that we accept that everyone's hair is unique, or everyone's favorite foods will be different, or that everyone has different career talents.
Later note: I would like to discuss for a moment how this is different than being critical of self-destructive behaviors. It IS love to try to help people stop engaging in problematic actions.
There are two ways that "I just don't see you that way" is not the same as constructive criticism.
1) Destructive actions are not the same as personality traits, genetics, or orientations. Being gay is not a destructive action. It's a thing that just is. But drinking and driving is a destructive action. Being black is not a self-destructive behavior, but refusing to eat right and sleep enough is. Being a nerd is not necessarily a thing that can't change, but it is not a destructive action. But bullying people in the nerd communities is, and should be stopped.
2) Even with destructive behaviors that can be stopped and should be spoken out against, you have to see them and recognize they exist in order to make changes in them. Refusing to see them won't make them stop.
