Me, LGBT, and Science Fiction

Hello again! It’s been a really long time since my first post back in November. Since I lack any viable commentary on important issues, allow me to instead regale you with some of my nerdier interests…

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been more seriously considering the effect that science fiction and fantasy in books and games have all been pretty influential on my understanding of LGBT issues. I know it sounds a bit strange, considering that those are fields that have had traditional grounds in the heterosexual white guy demographic but I know that it was in those genres that I first even came across LGBT characters and stories.

Growing up, I definitely didn’t get that there were non-straight folks. I mean, my best friend as a kid had the two most awesome aunts ever who I always thought were sisters. So when these books that I loved started to deal with these LGBT characters, I was both totally embarrassed at my ignorance and really curious.

Part of what helped this curiosity along was when I was thirteen or so, I started reading books by this woman, Elizabeth Bear. Her characters fall all over the spectrums of gender and sexuality and represented viewpoints that I had never considered before but started to increasingly identify with. By looking for more books like hers, I found an entire subset of stories in a genre I already loved. I could see that there had to exist other people who had feelings that were like mine and that they were leading normal and fulfilling lives (saving the galaxy, riding around in Victorian airships, etc).

Flash forward to present day. Over Christmas break, I was playing an RPG* with my younger brother that lets you pursue romances with characters regardless of gender. I got to spend three glorious weeks arguing with him over which character was the best romance option and he got to rub it in my face that when I went back to school, he got to play through again to romance the elf assassin guy with his dude archer character. Our shared interest in fantasy and games had let me see that whenever I do finally get around to coming out to my family, my brother is probably going to be a non-issue.

Eventually I would like to write a post with more thoughtful analysis behind whatever I’m starting to get at here, but for now any other nerds out there with similar stories?

Footnote:

*We were playing Dragon Age: Origins, for the curious.

Plans

[Editor's note: Please welcome our newest writer, Liz! We are so glad to have her contributions on the blog.]

Three days into my Duke experience, I walked through the Organizations Fair set up in the Plaza with my parents. My mom, knowing my utter ambivalence when it comes to seeking out human contact, diligently made sure I picked up flyers for a few of the groups, like the Arts Fair and especially CAPS. I promised to reach out to at least some of the groups, we went into the Bryan Center, said goodbye, and they left.

After the appropriate emotional flailing of being left on the East Coast alone, I immediately returned to the Plaza and went to the Center’s booth, which I had been unwilling to approach earlier.

After tinkering with the idea starting sophomore year of high school, I’ve thought of myself of bi for almost two years now. Most of senior year in high school was spent in an intermittent internal battle of whether or not to come out. I’d ask myself why it even mattered, what was the worst that could happen? I was leaving in the fall, and I wouldn’t have to deal most of those people anymore. I planned to tell my family and friends and let the respective rumor mills do the rest. I felt calm, assured. With a plan, I can handle anything.

Then I would ask myself why then would I bother coming out? Why not just stay comfortably where I was and avoid being known as the out kids were, solely by their sexuality? Parts of my very close extended family were not going to react well. It wasn’t like I was going to date anyone by the end of the year anyway; no one needed to be told. The plan became to come out to them while I was at college, where I would be safely many states away from any sort of negative or awkward fallout.

When I got accepted here, I did all the researching into the different clubs and activities, running through all the websites and Facebook groups. I found more than I could ever hope to join and talked nonstop about them to family and friends. I found this blog, and the Center, and Women Loving Women, all way before that fair on the Plaza, but they were the things I never mentioned to anyone. I followed this blog for most of spring semester and read the backlogs over the summer, carefully monitoring if anyone was around when I was doing so. I made more plans. When I walked up to the Center’s booth that first week at Duke, it was almost surreal.

Now that I’m in college and involved with the Center, I find my original plan of visiting home one holiday break, dropping my payload, and flying away to be less than ideal. My closeness with my parents has become a double-edged sword. I find the idea of simply telling them over the phone or at the end of one of my visits irresponsible. They’ve always supported me and given me great advice and I feel that I owe them more than that. I owe them a chance for us to sit down, for me to explain, and take their questions.

Easier said than done. I share everything with my family. On the phone, I’ll forget and mention I have a meeting later that night and they’ll ask what it is, not knowing this throws me into a mad scramble for a cover story. While I can explain away the rainbow flag in my dorm room as being a symbol of my support for LGBT students, Women Loving Women implies a different level of LGBT involvement.

So I’ve found myself at one of the most stressful times in my life (even without taking into account coming out) without a viable plan. Currently, I’m considering things like ‘playing it by ear’, which is a horrifyingly vague concept for me. But as bad as the idea of not knowing exactly how or when I want to come out anymore is, I’ve never been more grateful to have found the Center and the resources there or this blog. They all give me the security of knowing that whatever my eventual plan is (or lack of one), there are other people out there who understand and relate.