Something for pride month
I read this essay this morning:
https://thetransdandy.substack.com/p/...
Found myself ruminating on some things.
I've made it known from time to time that I consider myself asexual and aromantic. I don't bring it up very often. In my social life, it comes up from time to time, but never for long. At work, I never mention it at all.
Once, the organization I work under did a demographic survey of its membership, to keep in line with government standards about anti-discrimination and DEI and those things. (These are enshrined into UK law, believe it or not.) One of the questions was whether anyone in our specific team was part of a minority class. My boss is Indian, so that was obvious. And I'm ace/aro. But I hesitated to include that. It felt strange to do so. I'm a white cisgender man from the USA--the most privileged class of human on the planet. So having it be enshrined within my organization, for the purposes of DEI compliance, that I'm also a minority of any kind felt like cheating. You know, like if that helped us get additional funding in the future, it would be like I was using this one small aspect of my person as a crutch to gain an additional advantage. An advantage I shouldn't be allowed on top of all the others I already have.
That's probably silly? I'm not sure, though. The thing is, while I am ace/aro, I've gotten through life without it affecting me very much. I grew up with friends who just took it as a given that I didn't date for some reason. In college, I focused on studying, a perfectly normal thing to do. Now as an astronomer, I work in a professional, academic environment, where "guy talk" and general discussion of one's personal life isn't really encouraged. I would hazard a guess that most people I work with don't know I'm not straight. I could argue that being ace/aro has had minimal impact on me as a person, because I've been able--probably by dint of being a white, cisgender man from the USA--to just skate by. Like, I'm aware anti-ace bigotry is a thing, but I'm only aware of it as a theoretical. From hearing about it second-hand.
Thinking back, though, I guess it has impacted me more than I might know. I'm from rural Nebraska. In rural Nebraska, where everyone either works for the railroad or in agriculture, there are expectations of how men and boys should behave. I got called out once for the way I was crossing my legs. In band, I played trombone instead of my initial desire to play flute, because flute was a girl's instrument. As a teenager, adults made fun of me for not being able to back a trailer, light a match, use a power drill. In high school PE, I never learned anything because the coaches assumed we already knew how to play every sport.
I'm not exactly feminine, but there are many traditionally masculine things I just don't gel with and never have. I don't enjoy competition. I like to hike and take photos, not hunt or fish. I've never once gotten into a physical altercation.
Is that because I'm "queer"? Could be. I say I'm ace/aro, and that's because I have zero interest in having intimate physical contact with people (the thought of it is revolting), and I've never managed to fall in romantic love with anyone, despite having many extremely close friends. On my BlueSky profile, though, I wrote "but also kinda gay, I guess", because when it comes to stuff I find attractive (or "hot" as the kids say), it's usually very masculine-coded stuff. You know... while everyone was simping for sexy librarian Purah, I was firmly in the King Rauru camp. While everyone's going nuts over Krystal, I'm side-eyeing Wolf O'Donnell.
I think these days I come across as extremely masculine, maybe even off-puttingly so. The more I think about it, the more I think that affect has just been subtly beaten into me over the years. That essay I linked up there talks about how men are socialized for violence. We definitely are. I think I managed to hide from the worst of it, but it's impossible to hide from all of it. You know... I played trombone instead of flute, I gave up all my dearly beloved stuff animals, I don't ever go to therapy, I don't discuss my chronic lower back pain, I feel extremely awkward admitting I'm a furry, that I still enjoy watching cartoons, and so on. All that gay-ass, emasculating shit.
So growing up "queer" has impacted how I am today. And so I am probably allowed to consider myself a minority. But it's a delicate line to balance on. While I'm not transgender, I found a lot of the points raised in that essay up there about being a transgender man relatable. It's an odd place to stand, being visibly part of the privileged class, but also being separate from it in some important ways. It's the same thing I was sorting through when I wrote a story for The Voice of Dog last year: https://thevoice.dog/?episode=the-soi...
Anyway... not sure what I'm point I'm trying to make. Shit's complex, yo.
https://thetransdandy.substack.com/p/...
Found myself ruminating on some things.
I've made it known from time to time that I consider myself asexual and aromantic. I don't bring it up very often. In my social life, it comes up from time to time, but never for long. At work, I never mention it at all.
Once, the organization I work under did a demographic survey of its membership, to keep in line with government standards about anti-discrimination and DEI and those things. (These are enshrined into UK law, believe it or not.) One of the questions was whether anyone in our specific team was part of a minority class. My boss is Indian, so that was obvious. And I'm ace/aro. But I hesitated to include that. It felt strange to do so. I'm a white cisgender man from the USA--the most privileged class of human on the planet. So having it be enshrined within my organization, for the purposes of DEI compliance, that I'm also a minority of any kind felt like cheating. You know, like if that helped us get additional funding in the future, it would be like I was using this one small aspect of my person as a crutch to gain an additional advantage. An advantage I shouldn't be allowed on top of all the others I already have.
That's probably silly? I'm not sure, though. The thing is, while I am ace/aro, I've gotten through life without it affecting me very much. I grew up with friends who just took it as a given that I didn't date for some reason. In college, I focused on studying, a perfectly normal thing to do. Now as an astronomer, I work in a professional, academic environment, where "guy talk" and general discussion of one's personal life isn't really encouraged. I would hazard a guess that most people I work with don't know I'm not straight. I could argue that being ace/aro has had minimal impact on me as a person, because I've been able--probably by dint of being a white, cisgender man from the USA--to just skate by. Like, I'm aware anti-ace bigotry is a thing, but I'm only aware of it as a theoretical. From hearing about it second-hand.
Thinking back, though, I guess it has impacted me more than I might know. I'm from rural Nebraska. In rural Nebraska, where everyone either works for the railroad or in agriculture, there are expectations of how men and boys should behave. I got called out once for the way I was crossing my legs. In band, I played trombone instead of my initial desire to play flute, because flute was a girl's instrument. As a teenager, adults made fun of me for not being able to back a trailer, light a match, use a power drill. In high school PE, I never learned anything because the coaches assumed we already knew how to play every sport.
I'm not exactly feminine, but there are many traditionally masculine things I just don't gel with and never have. I don't enjoy competition. I like to hike and take photos, not hunt or fish. I've never once gotten into a physical altercation.
Is that because I'm "queer"? Could be. I say I'm ace/aro, and that's because I have zero interest in having intimate physical contact with people (the thought of it is revolting), and I've never managed to fall in romantic love with anyone, despite having many extremely close friends. On my BlueSky profile, though, I wrote "but also kinda gay, I guess", because when it comes to stuff I find attractive (or "hot" as the kids say), it's usually very masculine-coded stuff. You know... while everyone was simping for sexy librarian Purah, I was firmly in the King Rauru camp. While everyone's going nuts over Krystal, I'm side-eyeing Wolf O'Donnell.
I think these days I come across as extremely masculine, maybe even off-puttingly so. The more I think about it, the more I think that affect has just been subtly beaten into me over the years. That essay I linked up there talks about how men are socialized for violence. We definitely are. I think I managed to hide from the worst of it, but it's impossible to hide from all of it. You know... I played trombone instead of flute, I gave up all my dearly beloved stuff animals, I don't ever go to therapy, I don't discuss my chronic lower back pain, I feel extremely awkward admitting I'm a furry, that I still enjoy watching cartoons, and so on. All that gay-ass, emasculating shit.
So growing up "queer" has impacted how I am today. And so I am probably allowed to consider myself a minority. But it's a delicate line to balance on. While I'm not transgender, I found a lot of the points raised in that essay up there about being a transgender man relatable. It's an odd place to stand, being visibly part of the privileged class, but also being separate from it in some important ways. It's the same thing I was sorting through when I wrote a story for The Voice of Dog last year: https://thevoice.dog/?episode=the-soi...
Anyway... not sure what I'm point I'm trying to make. Shit's complex, yo.
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