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terresdebrumestories · 7 years ago

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stop. sexualizing. the. friendship. of. real. people. (anti-gross Scömìche bullshit forever). it baffles me how you all think they approve of this stuff because of a little teasing.

Youknow, I was gonna go for a flippant reply but you haven’t beenquite as insulting as the previous anon I got on the topic, and Ifigure putting my thoughts on this in order can’t hurt, so you geta long answer under the cut.

Preface:while I have written a couple of RPF fics before, including a coupleof shippy ones, I am not involved deeply with the RPF community andintend to keep it that way. Also, I will not get into the question ofwhether or not Scott Hoying and Mitch Grassi really are dating ornot, because I believe it is ultimately irrelevant to the discussionat hand and to the writing of RPF fic in general.

(Inany case, it’s completely irrelevant to my shipping, and I tend tothink the contrary would demonstrate an unhealthy levelof investment, but that may just be me.)

Withoutfurther ado (but with apologies to the tag for the unnecessary drama)let’s get on with:

Fanfan’sthoughts about RPF

So.‘Gross Scomiche bullshit’. There are two ways to read this:either you’re implying that RPF is gross in general and onprinciple (which I disagree with) or you’re saying that implyingthat these two guys, who are both part of the LGBTQ+/MOGAI/Queercommunity, could be in a romantic relationship is gross, which I alsodisagree with except with a lot more passion.

I.‘RPF is gross!’

Thisassumes that I (can’t speak for other RPF writers, obviously) writeabout Scott Hoying and Mitch Grassi as actual people, the way I could(but personally wouldn’t) write about a neighbor or a classmate.I’m writing about them as characters, by which I mean I am writingabout the fictionalized version of their persona they present throughtheir work with Superfruitand the various videos, interviews and live chats they’ve given asmembers of Pentatonix.

Here’sthe thing, we don’t actually know anything about what they are aspeople. What we see is a facsimile designed to imitate their lives,but whatever we see—and this is even more the case now that theyhave actual notoriety and actual PR to think of—is always releasedwith the knowledge that thousands of people will see it, analyze itand judge it, meaning it is notthe same as what they’ddo when unwatched.

Howmuch the two differ, I have no idea and, in any case, I don’t thinkit’s my business. They get to decide what they put in the publicsphere, and they get to decide whether the stop line moves, how far,etc.

However,once they put something up on YouTube or wherever fans can see it, itbecomes part of this semi-fiction that are public relationships. (1)I mean, I get why people don’t want to dig into that aspect offandom. Some people prefer to keep more distance with thenarrative—because, again, itisa narrative—because they can’t dissociate it from the peoplebehind it, just like some people can’t dissociate a movie characterfrom the actor who plays them, and that’s fine.

Ijust find it disingenuous to pretend like people shipping or writingRPF is the causeofthat dissociation when it is inherent in the very principle ofcelebrities sharing with the public. (Whether or not thatdissociation is a good thing or pronounced/obvious enough is aninteresting conversation, but it’s neither here nor there.)

Now,I won’t pretend there aren’t any problems with RPF. The fact thatcelebs get tweeted/mailed/forwarded links at RPF isa problem.They have a right not to be unwillingly exposed to stories writtenabout their fictional personalities, which I know can feel weird. (2)

Ialso acknowledge that sometimes things go far enough to weird meout—conspiration theory exists in every domain, apparently, and itlooks odd everywhere. There’s also the…oddly entitled tone thatsome anti shippers such as the anon I got a few days ago, who soundedalmost offended that Scomiche wasn’t an actual thing, like it was abad show plotline. (3)

Thatbeing said, I would also like to point out that I have, as of yet,never seen or heard of an artist sending links to their works(especially not their erotic work) to celebrities themselves. In myexperience, celebs getting linked to RPF usually comes in threeflavors:

A friend/acquaintance of them somehow found the RPF and sent itforward, presumably out of a ‘this shit is hilarious and they haveto see it’ sentiment

ATV/radio host went on a ‘I need something to laugh at and thesestupid delusional fans are the perfect target’ binge

Theceleb themselves went ahead and read fic, but those are usually awareof fanfiction beforehand, imo, should know better than to go lookingif they’re not ready to handle the levels of whackadoo-ing. (4)

However,none of these problems are inherently tied with the fact that thesubjects are actual people: they come from how people treat the ficthemselves. Actors and actresses have similar problems with beingshown fanart of their characters (which have their faces so I doubtthe weird effect is entirely absent there) and fans who write regularfanfiction are also mocked for what they do.

Soif you don’t like RPF, honestly, it’s your prerogative. You couldalso not have a problem with RPF but find certain fics gross, whichis alsofair. Heavenknows I’ve noped out/away from enough fics not to blame people whodo the same.

ButRPF isn’t inherently gross, any more than regular fic is, and whilethere are things to pay attention to in writing it (just like thereis in any kind of fictional writing) I honestly think the systemicproblems lie more with how people handle it than with its existenceas a whole.

II.‘Ew why can’t two guys just be friends?’

Thesecond possible reading of your ‘gross Scomiche content’ commentis that you basically find the possibility of them having a romanticrelationship gross which, well. You do realize how saying that to alesbian isn’t exactly the most polite thing, right?

Imean, honestly, I don’t want to spend hours on that part. Therehave been thousands upon thousands of words written about how the‘let them be just friends’is often mostly a newway of saying ‘keep thegay out of myface!’. Now, maybe you are LGBTQ+/MOGAI/Queer person, in which caseI apologize for the assumption of lingering homophobia.

Honestlythough, the only pairings that get more ‘ew, just let them befriends instead of making them all gay’ than white males are peoplewho are even more marginalized (lesbians, trans people, women ofcolor, you name it) so forgive me if I’m not exactly receptive tothat line of thinking, especially given the fact that, again, ScottHoying and Mitch Grassi are both somewhere on the rainbow spectrum ofsexualities.

Toput it succintly, that second possible reading of your commentstrikes me as either really bad wording or a frankly gross sentiment,and while I’m hoping for the former, the fact that I’ve literallynever seen or heard of similar comments for het-RPShipping makes mefear it’s the latter…and if it really is the latter I don’treally have any answer to the sentiment than a giant, rainbow-coloredfist-shaking.

(1)As an FYI, when I say PR is a fictionalized version of the truth, itdoesn’t only apply to celebrities. For example: two days ago, thenew French Ambassador of Cambodia visited my workplace. We werewarned several days in advance, and the whole place got scrubbedfloor to ceiling in preparation. Then, about 10-15minutes before thelady came in, one of my bosses made sure none of the teachers wereeating in the teachers’ lounge and told us, verbatim ‘pretend tobe working’.

Whenthe Uber-boss and the regular boss noticed I was looking at a boardgame in the corner, they hurried to explain that I teach children soyeah, this is totally work.Which it was, the ambassador just didn’t get to see that I was alsowatching Superfruit vids in between preparing activities for my kids.

Whatwe presented that day wasn’t a completefiction: I really am a teacher for kids and we really do work in theteachers’ lounge. But also we eat, we banter, we have fun, none ofwhich fits with the accepted workplace fiction of everyone being 100%at work all the time…which is why we had to create a facade. It wasclose—very close—to reality, but it still wasn’t real.

Celebritieswho are paid a lot and work very hard to make us think they’rehaving so much fun it’s almost like their don’t work, and alsolike there’s nothing they’d rather be doing than to meet a bunchof us and have the same four or five conversations over and overagain, probably get a bigger difference between their actual livesand their public persona. But I digress.

(2)Fun fact, @talysalankil once got an anon ask that shipped ustogether (I can’t remember if it was a friends ship or a romanticship) so I can confirm the thought of seeing stuff about beingshipped with someone myself was a strange one. I’m fine with it aslong as I don’t see anything (if there is even anything to see,lbr, it’s not like I’m actually famous, even on Tumblr) but Ialso acknowledge that I would probably not feel very comfortableabout seeing that potential material.

Thatbeing said, imagining there were any content to be found about me(again: highly unlikely) all I have to do is not go see it andeveryone can be on their merry ways because no one gets hurt.

(3)Full disclosure: my personal opinion, given the recent material I’veseen, is that these boys are either really, really unsubtle abouttheir love life and its current state, or they’re pushing the PRgame quite far indeed. Neither outcome is going to prevent me fromwriting RPF about their fictionalized lives if I damn well want to.

(4)Like, for example, I haven’t watched the Superfruitvid where they read RPF yet (I’m going through their channel inchronological order, sue me) but I do know Mitch mentioned being ontumblr all the time so I’d be really surprised if he didn’texpect at least someweirdness going in. Sometimes you get more than you bargained for,it’s true, but basic self preservation is a thing, guys.

#Scomiche #Writing Process #RPF #Comment Response #I should probably turn this into a tag #f: Scomiche sex friends to lovers #Nonners #My Posts #Assbox Adventures

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terresdebrume · 8 years ago

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Je veux des arc-en-ciels partout.

I wrote this intending to share it over on facebook, but since it references incidents and specific things said by my family, I decided it was probably best not to have it out there. I will probably translate it into English in the near-ish future.

A Phnom Penh, il n’y a pas de marche des fiertés (ou gay pride, pour les anglophones), il y a la semaine de la fierté (pride week).

Du 12 au 22 Mai, il y a pas mal d’événements organisés autour de la ville: soirées spéciales pour récolter des fonds, course au trésor en tuktuk, spectacle de drag queens, et j’en passe. Bref: il y a largement de quoi occuper la semaine et, dans mon cas, beaucoup d’occasions d’être triste parce que mon emploi du temps professionnel ne me permettra pas d’assister à tout ces événements, ni même à tout ceux que je trouve attrayants.

En revanche, j’ai largement le temps de me demander pourquoi j’ai tant envie d’y participer, à ces événements. Après tout, des soirées musicales, il y en a souvent à Phnom Penh. Idem pour les occasions d’aller au cinéma, de rencontrer des gens, ou d’aller admirer des vêtements dans lesquels je ne pourrais pas rentrer de toute façon…oui, mais voilà, là on parle d’événements LGBTQ+.

Les mêmes que d’habitude, mais avec des arc-en-ciels partout, et potentiellement plus de paillettes.

J’en entend déjà se demander pourquoi c’est si important que ça, de mettre des arc-en-ciels partout—ça change rien, on est tous pareils, et puis pourquoi se catégoriser comme ça, d’abord ? Est-ce que ça serait pas un peu leur faute aux LGBTQ+ si on les considère un peu comme des gens bizarres, à force de faire tout un foin sur leur orientation sexuelle/leur identité de genre/les deux ?

A ces personnes, je dirais qu’iels prennent le problème complètement à l’envers.

Quand j’étais petite, en regardant Les Chevaliers du Zodiaque pendant les dernières années du Club Dorothée (et, plus tard, sur France 5) j’étais convaincue que Hyoga et Shun étaient amoureux l’un de l’autre. Je ne sais plus exactement à quel moment j’en suis arrivée à cette conclusion, même si je suis à peu près sûre que le moment ou Shun manque de mourir pour sauver Hyoga (suivi de près par le moment ou Hyoga reviens en portant Shun comme une princesse évanouie) a joué un rôle assez important dans le développement de ma théorie. J’ai peu de souvenir de cette série, mais ça, je m’en souviens très bien.

Je me souviens aussi que je savais—je sentais—qu’il ne fallait pas que j’en parle, parce que c’était bizarre. J’avais toujours ce sentiment diffus que les gens n’apprécieraient pas si j’en parlais. Je me souviens avoir dit que Shun était mon personnage préféré, une fois. On m’a répondu sur un ton mi-dubitatif, mi-moqueur qu’il ressemblait à une fille.

J’ai attendu d’avoir 21 ans pour comprendre pourquoi ce genre de remarque me terrifiait.

Grandir dans ma peau, c’est ça.

C’est avoir peur de parler de ce que je voyais—de ce que j’imaginais—par peur de dégoûter celleux qui m’écoutaient, par peur qu’on se moque de moi, qu’on me dise que vraiment, non, j’avais rêvé, voire que c’était mal d’imaginer tout ça.

C’est dire un jour ‘peut-être que X est gay’ et m’entendre répondre ‘si c’est ça, je lui met un pain et ensuite on en discute’. C’est allumer le JT avec un reportage sur la marche des fiertés, justement, et m’entendre dire : ‘change ça !’ sur un ton sec. C’est demander pourquoi, et m’entendre dire ‘parce que c’est pas naturel’. C’est avoir envie de pleurer, de crier, de protester, et ne pas oser, parce que j’ai peur qu’on en tire les mauvaises (les bonnes) conclusions à propos de moi.

Grandir lesbienne, pour moi (comme pour beaucoup d’autres j’imagine) c’est entendre les gens me dire comment ma vie se passera quand j’aurai un copain, quand j’aurai un mari. Plus tard, c’est m’entendre demander si j’ai un copain, si il y a un garçon qui me plaît, pourquoi je n’ai pas de copain, quand est-ce que je ramènerai un garçon à la maison.

Grandir lesbienne c’est recevoir de tout côté le message plus ou moins implicite que ce que je suis est au mieux étrange, au pire un après coup, anormal, dégoûtant. C’est regarder la télé, lire un livre, écouter une chanson et recevoir de partout le message implicite que je n’appartiens pas à cette société. Que dans le monde ou je vis, on peut être hétéro, ou être oubliée...quand on n’est pas agressée, violée, tuée, mise à la rue, ou réduite à une catégorie YouPorn.

J’ai attendu d’avoir 21 ans pour commencer à accepter enfin ce que je sentais déjà depuis toujours : que je n’étais pas comme tout le monde. C’était terrifiant. Qu’est-ce qu’on allait dire ? Est-ce que j’allais pouvoir garder mes ami.e.s ? Ma famille ? Jusqu’où iraient les réactions négatives, les commentaires désobligeants ? Parce que oui, il allait y en avoir, c’était une certitude, et d’ailleurs ça n’a pas manqué.

J’ai attendu d’avoir 21 ans pour comprendre et accepter tout ça, et il m’a fallu près de six ans et un déménagement à l’autre bout du monde pour enfin avoir l’impression de pouvoir laisser libre cour à cet aspect de mon identité.

Pendant 21 ans, j’ai lutté contre ma propre homosexualité par peur des conséquences. Parce que je savais que le monde autour de moi allait rendre ma vie plus compliquée si—quand?—j’en parlerais. Parce que pendant des années, quand j’expliquais que les garçons ne m’attiraient pas, on m’expliquait que je n’avais simplement pas rencontré le bon, sans envisager que ‘le bon’ n’existait peut-être simplement pas. Parce que, quand le mariage pour tous faisait débat en France, il y avait des gens qui m’expliquaient que ça n’était pas vraiment un problème très important, comme si nous, les LGBTQ+, n’étions que des citoyens de seconde zone dont les droits étaient, finalement, peu important.

(Ce n’est pas un sentiment rare.)

Pendant 21 ans, je suis restée coincée dans ce qu’on appelle ‘le placard’ : cette zone sociale étrange faite d’un profond sentiment d’isolement, de non-reconnaissance et d’aliénation, qui paradoxalement protège parfois des effets les moins plaisants d’un coming out. Personne ne m’avait jamais posé de questions sur ma vie sexuelle supposée avant—mais la seule fois où, pour me débarrasser d’un homme insistant dans le train, je lui ai dit que j’étais lesbienne, il m’a demandé si j’utilisais des sex toys pour ‘compenser l’absence de pénis’. On m’a demandé si il s’était ‘passé quelque chose’ avec [un de mes ex copains]. Comprenez : on m’a demandé si j’étais devenue lesbienne suite à une agression sexuelle.

Pendant 21 ans, j’ai eu l’impression d’être anormale, de devoir me cacher, de ne pas être ‘digne’ du monde qui m’entourait, parce qu’être qui j’étais était à peine une réalité. Et après ça, j’ai passé plus de cinq ans seule avec cette partie de moi, entourée presque exclusivement d’hétéros ou de personnes LGBTQ+ qui ne semblaient pas (à l’époque, en tout cas) s’intéresser plus que ça à la communauté...et surtout, aucune femme de mon entourage proche qui partage cette expérience.

(J’en ai croisé quelques unes, c’est vrai. Les circonstances ont fait que nous ne nous sommes pas rapprochée à l’époque. Ce n’est la faute de personne, c’est juste un élément de solitude supplémentaire.)

Pendant cinq ans, mes seuls contacts avec la communauté LGBTQ+ se sont faits par le web. C’était bien : j’avais des ami.e.s dans des situations similaires, avec des sensibilités politiques similaires, des expériences similaires...sauf qu’iels vivaient—et vivent toujours—dans d’autres pays d’Europe, voire de l’autre côté de l’Atlantique. Allez boire un café dans ces conditions, vous.

Ce mois ci, je vais avoir 27 ans. J’en ai passé 25 à traîner l’impression horrible d’être la seule au monde à comprendre ce que je pouvais vivre...18 ou 17 si on tiens vraiment à être littéral et ne compter que les années ou j’étais vaguement conscience d’un mal être—encore que je ne me souviens pas de ne pas en avoir été consciente. Et puis j’ai été dans un bar lesbien pour la première fois.

C’était La Mutinerie, à Paris. C’était un bar tout ce qu’il y a de plus ordinaire, mis à part les affiches clairement orientées et la littérature activiste sur la bibliothèque près de la porte des toilettes. Je suis entrée, je me suis assise au bar, j’ai commandé un coca. Je l’ai bu lentement, sans oser parler à personne, parce que la timidité et l’anxiété ça ne s’abandonne pas sur le paillasson au premier claquement de doigt.

Pour la première fois de ma vie, je n’ai pas eu l’impression d’être une intruse dans l’espace public.

Maladroite, pas très sociable, un peu ridicule, peut-être, mais à ma place, dans un lieu ou personne n’allait m’insulter, me dévisager, ou me poser des questions indiscrètes et malaisantes sur ou à cause de ma sexualité.

C’était bien. C’était mieux que bien : c’était libérateur. J’ai eu un peu envie de pleurer.

Quand je suis repartie, j’ai eu l’impression de remettre un manteau mouillé, avec du plomb dans les poches, mais moins lourd qu’avant, parce que maintenant, je savais. Maintenant, je sais.

Il y a des endroits et des moments, où je peux être moi, ou je peux être visible sans avoir peur de prendre une claque métaphorique—ou pas, vu les énergumènes qui existent encore aujourd’hui—sans avoir peur qu’on me dise que je devrais peut-être me méfier, parce que qui sait si me rendre visible ne va pas me fermer des portes, professionnelles ou autres.

Il y a des endroits et des moments où ce que je suis est ordinaire, ou personne ne trouve ça étrange, où personne ne me reprochera d’être trop visible, de trop parler de problématiques LGBTQ+, de trop voir des gays partout.

Il y a des endroits et des lieux où je n’ai pas besoin de me cacher pour exister en sécurité, et j’ai besoin de ça.

Je pense que c’est pour ça que j’ai toujours envie de participer aux marches des fiertés—j’ai eu envie d’aller à la marche parisienne pendant des années, avant même de me dire que oui, peut-être que j’étais gay—parce que je veux pouvoir être moi. Je veux pouvoir exister en tant que femme qui aime les femmes dans un endroit ou ça ne pose aucun problème. Je veux pouvoir profiter de ce sentiment de liberté et de légitimité tant qu’il existe—je veux l’absorber, le faire mien jusqu’à ce qu’il ne me quitte plus jamais et que peut-être, un jour, il se généralise plus.

J’ai juste envie de pouvoir faire ce que les hétérosexuels font, en fait. Vivre ma vie normalement, sans avoir l’impression de devoir en cacher une partie pour ma propre sécurité émotionnelle et physique.

Et puis il y a une autre raison qui me pousse vers ces événements : je veux éviter à d’autres de vivre ce que j’ai vécu.

Je n’ai pas envie que d’autres jeunes—mes cousin.e.s ? Mes élèves ? Mes ami.e.s ? D’autres jeunes, ou moins jeunes du reste, de mon entourage?—doivent avancer dans la vie en se disant qu’il y a quelque chose qui ne va pas chez eux. J’ai envie qu’ils se sentent normaux. Je veut qu’iels sachent qu’être différent.e et heureux.se, c’est possible.

Je veux qu’iels sachent qu’iels ne sont pas anormaux.les, qu’iels ne sont pas étranges, et qu’iels ont autant le droit d’exister que n’importe qui d’autre sur cette terre, et que celleux qui disent le contraire sont ignorant.e.s et/ou intolérant.e.s parce que la valeur d’un être humain ne se mesure pas au genre de la personne qu’iel aime.

Je veux qu’iels sachent que je n’ai pas envie de me changer. Je ne souhaiterais pas ‘devenir’ hétéro, même si c’était possible. Je souhaiterais encore moins qu’on me l’impose, comme ça se fait encore dans bien trop d’endroits.

Je suis lesbienne.

Je suis bien comme ça. Je n’ai pas besoin d’être quoi que ce soit d’autre.

J’éprouve juste une immense colère face à la société qui m’a forcée à grandir avec cette idée dans la tête, et une immense joie chaque fois que je reçoit la preuve que cette société se trompe.

Je suis là.

Je ne bougerai pas—je ne céderai pas ma place, ni mon temps, à celleux qui préféreraient que je n’y soit pas.

Il y en a d’autre comme moi—des dizaines, des centaines, des milliers—et si ma présence et ma visibilité, sur le web ou dans la rue, peut permettre à d’autres de faire cette découverte plus tôt que je ne l’ai faite, je me dis que ça vaut le coup d’essuyer quelques plâtres.

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#mogai #french lgbtq+#fanfan is french #queering with fanfan #upthebaguette #Queer stuff

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terresdebrume · 8 years ago

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Positive outcome of coming out: I am (slowly but surely) learning to take my queer activism to Facebook. And that's nice.

#Fanfan has a life #Queering with Fanfan #It's not much far from it #But it's my little piece and I'm damned well gonna learn to take pride in it

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terresdebrume · 8 years ago

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I think I'd like to try and write something about why I wanna do ALL THE GAY THINGS ALL THE TIME one day. Maybe I'll even translate it to French and post it on FB idk. Or at least crosspost it, idk. Either way, I think it'd be a good way to figure that one out a bit xD

#Fanfan has a life #Queering with Fanfan

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terresdebrume · 8 years ago

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It’s open to interpretation

So, the reason I had a Queer Sad™ today.

I wasn’t going to make a big post about it—I wrote an angry rant about it on Wednesday, which is when the whole thing started, but then decided not to post it on the ground that a person involved may see it and the whole thing could sound like a personal attack, which wasn’t (and still isn’t) my goal. More stuff piled up on it, however, and now I’m upset again and I need to get this thing off my chest if I want to move past it…so, rant it is, and I’ll see how it goes later on.

Last Wednesday, I and three other persons (two of whom are straight, the other isn’t) went to see Rogue One in the theater, which I was happy about because I thought I’d missed my chance to see it. We had a great time, enjoyed the movie and its ending, and honestly things were fine. Then I mentioned that I wished there had been a Chirrut/Baze kiss at some point (honestly, I’d have taken a forehead kiss) and the two straight friends seemed greatly surprised and a tad shocked at my interpretation, immediately telling me that ‘no they were brothers’ (meant, I’m pretty sure, as blood brothers. The French dub seems to have played a role into that, which is an entirely different kettle and not something I want to deal with right now.)

I don’t think I’m going to surprise many people here when I say this reaction—and the insistence with which they denied the possibility of Chirrut and Baze being a couple, only ending on a conciliatory ‘it’s open to interpretation, and that’s what’s great about it’—was deeply upsetting to me.

I felt invalidated and denied, like the possibility of these two men being in love was only in my head—surprise surprise: I wasn’t the only one out of the group who saw it—and so outlandish it could only be met with astonishment and immediate denial, however innocent the intent was.

I don’t want to go too far into that rant—I already have over a 1000k of word vomit on the topic sitting in my hard drive and it’s just too upsetting to bring it all back up, but honestly—it fucking hurts.

I don’t even take it as a personal thing—I’ve heard people tell me this before, I’ve seen people have the same conversation before, and I’ll see it again and again and again, I have no doubt of that—but it would be nice if for once, just once in my lifetime I could tell a straight person ‘I think those two same-gender characters [who haven’t kissed/professed eternal love/explicitly stated they were gay] are in a romantic relationship’ and not be immediately met with denial and the implicit message that I’m wrong in (and sometimes for) interpreting a relationship like this as romantic.

(I mean, I’m sorry, but replace Chirrut with a woman in the death scene, and tell me if it looks like siblings interacting. I dare you.)

It would be nice, for once, not to be forcibly, painfully reminded that I’m different, that I’m an outsider, that things aren’t meant for me even when they were clearly put there so that I would see it, and my straight friends would not. (But queerbaiting is a topic for another post, I guess).

So. That was super upsetting, I ended up crying about it on my pillow, and then reading Chirrut/Baze fanfiction until something like 4am, because as far as I’m concerned the only proper response to feeling hurt on that topic is to be aggressively gay for a while. Also ship harder.

But anyway, it was Wednesday, and I’ve had two days to kinda get over it, and I mostly did, even if seeing the news about YouTube’s stupid-ass content block this morning brought it all back up and gave me the aforementioned Queer Sad™.

But tonight we went to a restaurant with the same group plus a couple of people, and we got to talking about Rogue One and how there were pieces of the dialogue we didn’t understand, particularly Chirrut’s lines…and then, the conversation with one of the friends went like this:

Me, to help her place who Chirrut was: The blind monk.

Her, amused smile: And his brother!

Me, trying not to sound too upset: Actually they’re not brothers, I checked it out.

Her: I think only gay or bi people see this kind of things.

I wanted to tell her ‘that’s ‘cause straight people have blinders on’. I held it in. I’m still wondering if I should maybe have picked up that fight.

I don’t know what made her think that would be a funny thing to do. I assume it was meant as gentle teasing but the thing she doesn’t realize is, she’s right about 90% of cases. People—straight people—don’t see us. They never do—why do you think I keep saying non-explicit representation doesn’t count as representation? ^ This, right there.

Because unless we shove it up to the front—unless we fit enough arbitrary criteria we’re invisible. We’re just friends. We’re open to interpretation.

Except, of course, for the part where our interpretation—the one in which Chirrut Imwê and Baze Malbus are a couple—gets big wide surprised eyes and ‘noooo, they’re brothers’ or ‘really? I didn’t see it at all’ and the one in which they’re friends doesn’t.

It’s open to interpretation, but one of them gets instant disbelief. It’s not even that people want to hurt us—it’s not even that they hate us, or hate seeing gay characters on screen, it’s that they don’t see them. They don’t see us.

And I’m tired of this, you know—I’m tired of this cultural norm, this learned behavior so normalized it becomes a reflex that has people—that has me—thinking the characters aren’t gay if they don’t kiss/come out/have sex on screen. It’s not real if there’s not tangible proof. It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real, I’m not real, we’re not real, we don’t exist unless we can prove it. We don’t exist unless we can say we’ve kissed a girl—a boy, a person of our own gender, whatever it is.

I tell people I think such and such characters are in love and they tell me it’s open for interpretation and they mean well but all I hear is ‘you’re wrong’. I’m wrong in that these characters are not gay and I’m wrong in that I shouldn’t be seeing things that aren’t there.

I’ve tried to explain it, several times—although not always by using my own emotional reaction because I’m naïve enough to think it shouldn’t compute. I try to be patient, to explain, to back up my argument but I’m tired—shit, I’ve only accepted I was queer six years ago but I’ve been having this stupid conversation all my life and I’m so very tired of it.

‘It’s open to interpretation’ well, yeah, kind of. If you squint hard. But I do have to ask: when I say ‘I interpret these characters as gay’ and the first words out of people’s mouth are ‘Really? Nooooo!’ is it really open to interpretation, or is it only open to theirs?

#my posts #queering with fanfan #mogai #stuff to think about #idk the thing i wrote wednesday was more raw but also i'm more done now #this is a weird hybrid between meta and personal post #idek #i just needed it off my chest #and putting it here helps with that #also i'm just bad at explaining what hurts me and why in a rational manner #at least on this topic i am #and i don't wanna make things worse #Queer stuff

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terresdebrume · 8 years ago

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Guys I'm having a queer sad. I'm trying to remediate it with Chirrut/Baze fanfics but since the sad is partly tied to them in the first place it's only partially successful...anybody care to share happy LGBTQ+ anecdotes with me please?

#Fanfan has a life #Queering with Fanfan #I had The Moment with a couple of friends the other day #You know when they don't want to hurt you but you're forcibly and painfully reminded that #oh yeah #they're straight #it was better yesterday but I saw the news about youtube and now I has a sad

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terresdebrume · 8 years ago

Conversation

Conversation I had with my colleague's husband tonight (aka: coming out #12 (ish))

Him: Oh you're [leaving because you're] going to see your boyfriend eh?

Me: I don't have a boyfriend and I don't want one.

Him, surprised: Really? Why ever not?

Me: Because I want a girlfriend.

Him, after stunned laughter: W-how...?

Me: Well I'm not giving you the talk!

#fanfan has a life #shit from home #queering with fanfan #it was actually a pretty chill reaction #and the colleague didn't seem shocked or cold or whatever so

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terresdebrume · 8 years ago

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@taimproblem yeah xD In the guy's defense, English isn't his first language and there's no guarantee he got any education on lgbtq+ topics at all so all in all, it was fairly okay x)

#taimproblem #replying to replies #Queering with fanfan

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terresdebrumestories · 8 years ago

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Watching with Fanfan: Moonlight

Last Saturday (or today, as of when I’m writing this, but let’s not get confusing) I went to a movie marathon with some friends, and we ended up watching Moonlight, Hidden Figures and La La Land back to back.

I found Hidden Figure both interesting and entertaining, and overall very optimistic, even though I’m pretty sure the era-appropriate racism was toned down to make the whole story more Hollywood-palatable. Much has already been said about it, though, and considering it’s a movie about black women, I feel like my white ass doesn’t really need to share detailed opinion about it (suffices to say I really, really liked it).

As a queer woman, though, I feel a teensy bit more legitimate in talking about Moonlight, with the caveat that considering it features a gay black man as the central character, my perspective is definitely not the one to be privileged. With that in mind, let’s get to the loving rant reviewing part of the post.

Moonlight, isn’t so much a unified story as a triptych, three pictures—in this case, pretty much portraits—that can stand on their own but are better understood when presented together. In Moonlight, we have i. Little, ii. Chiron and iii. Black, all three taking a look at Chiron and his life through his relationship to himself, his mother, and his best/only friend Kevin, roughly in that order.

All three portraits are handled with a lot of delicacy and skills, showcasing both Chiron’s natural tenderness and fragility, and the dangers he faces because the world simply will not let him be.

(Sidenote: Moonlight features an all-black cast, background characters included. I have absolutely zero doubt that the same movie including more white people would have ended up being even more violent and painful for Chiron.)

Through the triptych, we watch Chiron evolve and build multiple shields around himself: detaching himself from his mother so he won’t suffer so much from her shortcomings and addiction-related absence in i. Little, deciding to strike back in ii. Chiron. Then, when his transformation is complete in iii. Black (complete with gold teeth and a shady job), Kevin comes back into his life and the soft young man comes back to the surface in the blink of an eye.

Chiron is a complex and rich character, whose tenderness is a side of masculinity I’ve rarely seen in white male character in movies, let alone black ones. Seeing him walk through life and manage to find a source of happiness in his relationship to Kevin (despite the significant but mostly pressure-induced hiccup in ii. Chiron), one that allows him to be vulnerable and loving, was immensely satisfying for me as a queer person who craves positive queer rep of any kind.

I can only try to imagine how soothing/satisfying this can be to the black queer (or straight, I’m pretty sure it can work for straight black men too) men who will or have already seen it. Sure, there may be flaws that I haven’t noticed because, again, I’m not part of the population represented there which makes it easy to miss things.

It doesn’t feel like there are though—not from seeing the movie, nor from looking up people’s response online—which is why I really, really think that the queer/MOGAI (pick your preferred designation) community, and especially the white queer/MOGAI community should go and see this movie as many times as possible, because we need more stories like it—and black queer/MOGAI peeps need them even more than we do.

#Done with wooden queues #My Posts #Review #Reviews #Movie Review #Movie Reviews #Moonlight

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