Homophobics suffer from a sad illness

Aaron Barstow

Iowa State student “Jane” is not a stranger to anti-gay remarks.

She’s heard a variety of taunts, and she could produce a long list of remarks she’s been the focus of.

Jane isn’t about to change her appearance or who she is, though, even if it does seem to fit the stereotypical lesbian. She likes to wear her hair short and one of her favorite activities is working out.

Jane says she never goes around telling strangers she’s a lesbian. She’s not out to her family, or even any of her friends for that matter.

And even though I want every single last queer person coming out to those around them, I can’t seem to find any fault in her decision to keep silent.

There is one good reason why Jane will never tell people she’s a lesbian: She’s not. She’s a heterosexual who could tell you from personal experience that homophobia isn’t something that only hurts queer folks.

Homophobia is not something only queer people must deal with, unfortunately.

Ask a male nurse or a female soldier if he or she has to deal with negative attitudes or overcome stereotypes, and you just might discover they do.

Iowa State is a place full of negative attitudes, and it has a very definite homophobic feel about it. The sad part is that a large chunk of people here actually believe it’s OK to be homophobic.

I’m totally over people who keep pulling out their back-pocket Bibles on me to stress the evilness of a queer existence and justify their homophobia. I find no backbone in their words.

The Bible is nothing more than an enormous crutch for those who are too scared to make their own decisions and form their own thoughts.

Homophobia is an interesting mental illness. It is sometimes about being scared of what you are, sometimes about doing whatever possible to avoid being labeled as queer, or sometimes even being afraid to go against what your family and friends have implanted in your brain as being the “normal” way to live.

I think there is also a part of homophobia that revolves around an abnormal sexual behavior phobia.

We members of the queer community are being oppressed; we’re not a large established group, and because of that, many people refuse to listen closely to us.

A large heterosexual group has control over how we are portrayed and often decide on what rights we deserve to have. They exert themselves not only here but across the nation, and they will not voluntarily stop. Homophobia has grown deep roots within this group.

No matter the origin of homophobia, heterosexuals need to realize that getting rid of it is in everyone’s best interest.

The effects of this fear and hatred of queers is far reaching. It goes beyond affecting only those who are themselves members of the queer community.

Anti-gay beliefs eradicate close emotional relationships between males. They lead to unwanted pregnancies and diseases when young adults must prove they are heterosexual. Even more seriously, they have been known to cause the murders of heterosexuals who werefalsely presumed to be queer.

There is no simple way to combat the homophobic beliefs and values that are thoroughly interwoven in our nation. It’s impossible to think that all of the students and faculty here at this university who have grown up in households or communities that have taught them to hate queers can easily understand why they should treat us no differently than they treat the average heterosexual.

But I suggest that you do not invent what you think a “queer” is and what he or she might be doing tonight.

I urge you to stop ingesting all the negative propaganda being fed to you by the Religious Right as the truth.

Learn about what you do not understand and help take the sting out of being queer in America.

There is no reason why we all should hold the same values, beliefs and feelings. Perhaps if we did, it would be a nice and bubbly world, but it would also be a pretty boring one at that.

So for all of you who are still trying to use your Bible to justify your fears, please don’t even tell me Jesus can take my abnormality away. Jesus Christ is not a cure-all elixir, and, besides, I happen to like the way I am.

But for all of you with a sickening obsession with Jesus Christ, don’t worry. I’ll be praying for you, too.

Aaron Barstow is a bi-weekly, bisexual columnist from Cape Cod.