Amazed
I am always amazed that the āmaster raceā ā with all its flannel bravado ā seems to think that us queer folks are weak.
As if we didnāt grow up in New York or Appalachia or Louisiana alongside you. As if we havenāt served in every war since humans began walking upright and out of their caves. As if we havenāt been steel and rig workers. As if we havenāt worked alongside you on the farms and in the coal mines. As if proficiency in wearing high heels and field stripping an M16 are mutually exclusive things.
We are not, have not been, and will not be afraid of you. We know you so much better than you can ever hope to know us. We are your daughters and sons. Brothers and sisters. We infiltrated you at our birth. We have been watching and learning from you for as many years as we have walked this Earth. We know your tactics. We know the size of your forces. We know you.
For every song lamenting the loss of āreal menā and their pickup trucks, thereās a dozen of you scared to go into a drag club, to shop in Harlem, to welcome in refugees, and to heal the sickā¦hundreds who wouldnāt recognize your Jesus Christ if he asked you personally to crawl through the eye of the needle to escape your narrow and hateful worldview.
For each Bible thatās come crashing down on our heads there are a dozen success stories of our people who made it against the odds, who have found love and community and happiness. Weāre as tough as our full set of acrylic nails. Weāve had to be.
Go ahead. Try and silence us. You canāt. Weāre loud as fuck. Make our existence illegal all over again. History loves to repeat itself and we know how the history books will remember you. We also know how they will remember us. Try and arrest us. Weāre good with bricks and fabulous with spray paint.
Be gay. Do crime. Expect us.
Header Image by kalhh from Pixabay.