For even "the most closeted" of Frat Stars :)

Dear Closeted Fraternity Brother,

You might very well know who I am. After all, I have met and befriended roughly fourteen guys like you on this campus (yes, I keep count!), and a few of you have even read this wonderful blog (out of curiosity, of course... what was that phrase again? "No homo," right?). I wish I could say that I write on here often, but I don't. I do not presume to understand the struggle that is LGBTQ-affiliation in an often-bigoted world. I do, however, presume to understand the awesomeness that is Greek life at Duke: I go out. I drink. And I rage. A lot. I like to dance in the cage with my sorority sisters at Shooter's, on Saturdays I like to dress up like some version of a skanky blue collar worker for Tailgate, and, most importantly, I like to go to all of your fraternity's events, whether it's SigNu Seafood, Pikes of the Caribbean, or DTD's Iced Out.

It is at events like these where, before I begin making my own poor life decisions, you drunkenly come up to me and, with a sneaky smile, tell me you heard that I "hang out with a lot of homos." I tell you that it's not nice to phrase it that way, but, yes, many of my friends are gay. You say it's okay for you to phrase it that way because you could be "a homo," too. I tell you that that is a very significant thing to admit, and that I had no idea you were questioning. A look of fear appears on your face, and you tell me you've "done sh** with guys before," but you were "just really drunk," and it probably doesn't mean anything. I ask you if you want to talk about it sometime over coffee. You get angry and tell me to "f*** off" and that, if I tell anyone what you just told me, I shouldn't bother showing up to your section parties anymore.

At first, these conversations leave me feeling hurt and confused. But, the more that they happen, the more they just feel predictably normal. I have gotten used to being both your confidante and your verbal punching bag. And while it is nice to be confided in, it is not very nice to be used as a convenient sounding board and then threatened because I was the "fag hag" in your drunken line of fire. You and I are friends, and friends do not say or do these things to each other. The only instance I can think of for a friend to logically act like this is if they are feeling angry and alone. As you know, I say and do mean things when I feel angry and alone. So, when I think of what's eating at your soul right now, I imagine that you, my friend, must be feeling very angry and alone.

I wanted to write to you to tell you that you are not at all alone. Not to toot my own horn (after our years or months or days of friendship, you surely must know how big my ego is), but I guess it suffices to say that I am the inextricable link. What you say to me about your hidden sexuality is nothing new. It has been said to me before; you have said it to me before, shrouded in all different kinds of Greek letters. And so I am what binds you to a number of other men on this campus who share your inner struggle. I am the proof that none of you are alone. And while I will always uphold my promise to keep your admissions safe within the confines of my heart, a little chip breaks off of it every time you reveal your secret - often in drunken, incomprehensible snippets - to me. You reveal your secret so often and so frequently to the point that I worry every piece of my heart will chip away, and there will be nothing left to protect what you have shared with me. I will have nothing to do but shout your secret to the world because, that way, you and everyone like you will finally realize that you are not alone.

Don't freak out, though! That was just me being dramatic. But you must understand that this could be a big problem down the road, and I worry about it every day. I worry about you every day. I worry that as time goes on, these feelings you are having will not at all go away but will instead grow and grow, and you will be so ashamed of them that you will not merely hide them from the world but you will also hide all of the other things that you are: you are an incredible Social Chair. You are really good at doing the Borat accent. You are not afraid to go free ballin'. You would rather do a naked run around Wannie than clean your dorm. You can out-chug everyone. You make every girl at every party feel at ease. You make me feel at ease. And I have a suspicious feeling that you also make your brothers feel at ease.

And so I know you find it just as irritatingly presumptuous as I do when I hear what people say: "You should just come out because then you'll realize who your real friends are," or, "Coming out will make you stronger in the long run," or "The fact that you can't come out means you have 'issues' and are insecure." But I don't think that advice will help you very much because I know your world, why you are in it, and why you want to stay in it. There is nothing like an amazing section party with Akon blasting and slutty dancing everywhere and neighbors making noise complaints. There is nothing like a bunch of guys you can shotgun ten beers in section with and then run around mooning the Campus Police. There is nothing like living with a bunch of brothers who will play pong with you at 7 am on a Saturday morning because you have to "pre-pregame" Tailgate. This is your life at Duke, and it's a damn, good life. You have every right to keep it.

You are afraid that these experiences will all go away - that they will all be stripped from your hands the moment it becomes known that you you like guys. But I wholeheartedly believe that your brothers are, in fact, your real friends. Time spent together does not lie, and these memories and friendships you have cultivated with your brothers have happened for a reason. You received a bid to join your respective fraternity because your brothers all saw in you what I see in you - what the world sees in you. They are not going to disappear and abandon you the moment they find out something new about who you are. They might not know how to respond to it, they might be weird at first, and, yes, they might be a little uncomfortable. But they are human beings with struggles of their own, and they are your brothers and your friends. They will get over their awkwardness very quickly because they will remember why they rushed you in the first place.

I know this letter will not automatically affect your resistance to come out, but I do hope it will at least make you think about things. Your brothers love you very much, and, contrary to what those GDI's might say, being in a fraternity gives you a bond that will last your whole life. The common misconception is that fraternities are merely breeding grounds for insecure, misogynist "bro's" who hide who they are for four years by partying, drinking, and partaking in legally questionable behavior. You and I both know that that isn't necessarily true. You might be insecure about being gay, but partying, drinking, and tearing down traffic signs across campus at 4am is part of who you are, and, okay, maybe it's part of why you joined a fraternity in the first place. There is nothing wrong with that. This is what makes your world at Duke so fun. Just remember that there is life after Duke, too, and coming out might make it all just a tiny bit easier. Your brothers will stand by you. I've seen it happen in KA, in DTD, in Wayne, in PiKapp, in ATO, and the list goes on... You really will be okay. I know it, know it, know it.

One part of you will not define the whole. You are too much, and you are just enough, and nothing will change that. You are loved, and you are not alone.

I love you,
E.

Anonymous Posts (11.28.10-12.5.10)

Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)

Uh. So this blog is blowing up a little bit (that is a good thing, My Mom!). We're [back] on a regular schedule, and we have so many writers. The Most Writers. I think that the broad spectrum of columnists and volume of posts puts us closer to "effectively conveying the diversity within the LGBTQ Community, something that is often underrepresented and underestimated." And this is most certainly a good thing.

The problem we then run into, however, is having more content than our current readerbase can keep up with. Which doesn't mean that we should have less fewer (grammar police called me out on this) posts, it just means that we're ready for more readers :) So, like, you know how there's a Share! button at the bottom of every post? Use that! Use that. If just ten people shared links on their wall, that would reach, like, 9,000 Facebook users #exactsciences. Or if you're in a hurry (? ("If you have to zap like your blog posts before you head out the door, you might want to loosen up your schedule.")) there's also the Like button there, too. Share the good word, Readers! I can only spam so many people!

In other news, hey This Awesome Article. Thanks to Ryan Brown for doing such a great job with this piece, and to Maya Robinson for putting up with how awkward I am in front of a camera.

The anonymous posts for this week are just too much, You Girls. I know I've said this before, but I am so much so in love with This Blog a little bit.

#1

I write this anonymous entry in my room crying. Why am I crying? I am crying because we live in a world that is not accepting and a world that is very judgmental. For the past few years in my life, I have been trying to change who I am. I have been trying to pretend that everything is ok, when it simply is not. For example I went to church during thanksgiving break, and these girls made a general comment about how gays should not be allowed in the church or even identify themselves as Christians. I am a proud gay individual in secret. I wanted to honestly attack her but I could not since I did not want to reveal my sexuality to my cousin who happened to be sitting next to me. Why am I still in the closet? I am in the closet because I am scared of what my parents will say, I am scared because of what other family members will say and I am scared because of the perception the world would have on people like me. I am scared because I want to run for office on in my foreign country and I am scared because people would judge me based on my sexuality and not on my promise to serve them. Time to grow up, this is the funny part! Have you ever had a crush on somebody, who did not know you were gay or lesbian? Have you ever seen that person and wished to tell them how you were feeling? Have you nicely contacted someone asking them to spend time with you in a nice way, but the person you contacted keeps on rejecting you and making excuses every time? [Ed. Note: Sorry I had to take this next line out, #1. Had to be careful with the whole personal attack thing. If you want to talk about it, you can email me at bluedevilsunited@gmail.com] I am proud of who I am and I am proud of whom I have become during my freshman year at Duke. I want the world to know the real me. I want the world to know the boy who is extremely funny, insecure, weird, smart boy who doubts himself frequently, and is goal-driven and happens to be GAY. I want to live in a society where people do not judge me based on my sexuality and people rather appreciate the diversity that exists in society. I do not know when I will frankly come out, but the time will certainly come. I do not know when that time will be. But, all I know is I am who I am and I cannot change one bit of it. I am ME, I am unique, I am different and I will never change the fact that I happen to like GOOD-LOOKING boys, not just an boy, but extremely hot boys.Thank God, for extremely attractive people at Duke!

#2

Hello Blue Devils United!

Urban Dictionary Definitions:

Lurker: Someone that follows a forum but doesn't post

Creeper: Someone who views your profile multiple times without saying anything

Stalker: A person who is way too obsessed with someone to the point of being a creeper (see above)

I am one of the above. Well, maybe I'm all of the above. You can also call me:

Mom: The woman who loves you unconditionally from birth, the one who puts her kids before herself and the one who you can always count on above everyone else (definition also from Urban Dictionary).

To those of you whose parents have rejected you for being your whole self: I am very, very sorry. I think of you all the time, and my heart cries for you. I wish that I could give each of you a big hug and tell you that you're just perfect, just the way you are.

To those of you whose parents are fully accepting, loving, supportive, and always know what to say and do: I'm very, very happy for you. It's your birth right to have parents who know how to love you unconditionally (see the ideal definition of "Mom" above). You have been blessed with such parents, and this is a wonderful thing.

To those of you who have parents somewhere in the middle of the two poles listed above, I now speak to you:

1) From your birth, the most important thing in this world has always been your safety and your happiness.

2) It terrifies me to think that you will ever be unsafe.

3) It breaks my heart to think that you will ever be unhappy.

4) While I am very proud that you are out, strong, brave, and such an awesome individual, I'm terrified that being out means that you're now a target for discrimination, hate words, and hate crimes.

5) My fear probably comes across sometimes as very conditional acceptance. What you hear when I say, "Be careful about public displays of affection" might be very different than what I mean when I say it. What I'm saying to you is, "This world is full of dangerous bigots, and I don't want you to get beat up and left on the sidewalk."

6) I feel no differently about wanting to be involved in your life than I would feel if you were heterosexual. I want to know when you fall in love. I want to know when your heart is broken. I want to know if you're dating anyone special. I want to know what that person is like. Please don't exclude me from all of these special talks because you don't think I can handle it. I think you'd be surprised if you gave it a try.

7) In our conversations, if I frequently bring up topics regarding your life as a queer person and how your life is going in these aspects, I'm afraid you'll think that I feel this is the most important part of you, and it's not. If I talk to you too little about it, I'm afraid you'll think that I'm minimizing an important part of your life or that I'm avoiding discussions about important parts of your life. I don't instinctively know the right balance. (And also please note: I used the word "queer" just now and I've no idea if that's the right word or if it's offensive in the way I used it. My lurking/creeping/stalking is the only thing that makes me suspect that maybe it's okay?) Teach me the lingo some time - and tell me what's okay to say when, alright?

7) I need you to tell me what aspects of my parenting are working for you, and what aspects are not. I don't always know how to be helpful and supportive. Sometimes I try and fall flat on my face.

8) Sometimes I don't know what to do or say in certain situations. For example, when the late night shows are on and the comedy routine includes a stereotypical gay character, am I allowed to laugh? Am I supposed to be appalled? Sometimes I watch you, and I laugh only if you laugh. You usually laugh, so I usually laugh too. Are you laughing inside or just outside? Am I hurting you by laughing?

9) While I fully support the repeal of DADT on moral grounds, I secretly want it to stay, so that you will never be able to directly involved in a dangerous war. I know that's terrible. I'll vote for candidates supporting its repeal, but my heart tugs when I do.

Most of all, I love you. And I'm sorry if sometimes my loving you too much feels like lack of support or something I don't mean it to be. I just want you to live a happy and safe life. I'm not sure yet that this is completely possible for you, and I'm scared.

I worry so much about you.

Love,

Your Mom

#3

How can I post this not anonymously? I'm rather sick of being anonymous and am on my way out! Well, except to my mother. Ad father. And brother. and grandparents. And okay maybe nobody knows. But I'm trying! I swear! I called my brother this week to come out to him, but he didn't pick up, and responded days later via text. It feels like I haven't had a serious, close conversation with any of my family members in so long that to come out to them would be doubly awkward. It's sad, really. But over Thanksgiving, I decided to try.

So here was my most recent coming out attempt, well, more testing the waters:

I was in the movie theater with my mom over Thanksgiving, and we were looking at movie posters. I'd been looking at a picture of Natalie Portman, trying to figure out what wasn't quite right about it (photoshopping galore). I tried to point it out to my mom, but she said she hadn't spent much time looking at Natalie Portman in general, so she couldn't really tell. I responded, "Oh, I have". And she gave me this look and asked "Why?"

Now I wasn't about to have a coming out party right there, next to the restroom and garbage can in the hallway of the movie theater, surrounded by my boyfriend and the rest of my family. My boyfriend heard the whole thing, and knew exactly what I was talking about, but she just didn't get it. I'm not sure if the look on her face was confusion or disgust.

-Nicole Dautel. Trinity '11

#4

Here's the deal: attention seeking behavior seems to be inextricably intertwined with so many things LGBTQ.

1. Why?

2. Good/Bad?

3. What should be done? (or should anything be done?)

#5

I know that people can say pretty terrible things to someone who comes out to them, but I never imagined hearing “I don’t believe you.” But, for some reason, I seem to be hearing it over and over again as I try talk to my friends about my sexuality. It’s not always that explicit, though. From my sister, it was “You’re just saying this because you have so many gay friends now.” From another friend, it was “But you’re too pretty to be anything but straight” (their way of complimenting me?). And, perhaps the most hurtful and least expected of all, “Oh, you and everyone else. You’re just trying to be trendy.” I can’t say I didn’t expect it to some extent. Yes, I am a woman who never questioned her sexuality at all before college, and not really until the end of last year. And no, I don’t know what new label I fit into yet (bisexual... lesbian?) or if I fit into one at all. But does that make it alright to tell me that I am not genuinely attracted to other women? I’ve heard plenty of stories about how hard it is to be a queer woman, especially at Duke, but I could never have envisioned some of my friends (some of whom are gay themselves) telling me that I am trying to be something I’m not. Talk about invalidating.

#6

I saw the article about the LGBT center in Towerview today and while I thought it was well written and said some great stuff about what you guys are doing, I can't help but be annoyed with how frats seem to be covered. As a gay male in a fraternity, I am about as closeted as it comes, except I don't necessarily see that as wrong or as some terrible act of denying "who I am." I am a lot of things other than gay, and so the reason I don't come out and tell everyone I like guys is not because I'm weak or afraid of it. It's because I want to be seen for the other things that I am. Additionally, the world isn't all rainbows (ha) and sunshine, and for most people, coming out risks a lot of other important things that, for some, are just as important as (if not more important than) their sexuality. There are a lot of male actors who don't announce their sexuality because it ruins their chances of getting roles, in the business world a lot of gay men don't come out because they want to protect their jobs, and maybe a lot of guys in frats here don't come out because they want people to remember the other things they do and are a part of (such as their frat, for example). I just think it sucks that when people hear about closeted frat guys at Duke, it's assumed that they're insecure losers with "identity issues" who will never find their way in life because they don't want to run around telling everyone they like dudes. I like guys, but I like my life at Duke a lot more than to risk it in the name of "taking a stand" and "defying a stereotype." I don't do drugs, and I don't sleep with girls, and I think that's enough to defy the stereotypes people have about fraternities here. A lot of us are comfortable with who we are and are gonna live it up for the rest of our time here without it being ruined by something that doesn't feel as important in the short term.

*NTS: I should never write something that is going to be read by anyone other than nobody at 2:40 AM. This post has had to be edited so many times. This is what overtired looks like, People. (It looks like a lot of very long hyperlinks.)

Brothers and Sisters, Part 2

In collaboration with Ebony Way, we have decided to tag team these posts. We hope this is an effective medium and method to discuss a common topic of interest between writers. While Ebony Way discusses her influence with her little brother in her post, I will discuss my older sister's influence on me.

My sister is four years older than me, so between middle school, high school, and college, we've never been at the same school together. Which is perhaps a good thing, because she was able to tell me things I would need to know.

My sister and I never had a strong relationship. I mean, we are brother and sister, I do not think we are meant to have a good relationship. Then again, we were always busy, so most of our talks were fighting for something, in the interest of time.

Oh, did I mention that my sister is gay? 'Cause that's important to know. I always joke about how some chromosomes just didn't split correctly over the four years, but it happened, regardless.

We have never talked about our lives with each other. While I often feel that never cementing a strong relationship with my sister has not been a huge issue, I feel that never talking to her about being gay and vice versa has been an issue. I know that I can learn so much from her, yet I have not taken the time. I never even personally told her that I am gay.

However, I'm okay with that.

I've never had an easy time telling people that I'm gay. I find that I'd rather let people figure it out for themselves, or even ask. I refer back to labels, and my disgust for labels. I do not like being branded with labels. Whether it is gay, smart Asian, nerd, geek, or any other label, I despise these labels. People are more than words can describe, but often people generalize for every label, and gay is absolutely no exception to the rule. For one, I don't think it is necessary to immediately let people know that I am gay. My straight friends didn't introduce themselves to me as straight, so why should I introduce myself as gay to them? Also, I'm not a different person because I am gay. I am still me, but it just so happens that I'm gay; it really is not that big of a deal. It is analogous to how my roommate folds his pizza before eating it, or how my friend says her a's different; it is not a big deal, it just makes us unique. I would continue to elaborate, but I am afraid I've already taken my tangent too far.

My sister is the athlete in the family. She does crew, she plays soccer, softball, flag football, and pretty much most intramural sports that her college offers. I never had this athletic talent, and I envy her for that (although I am a quidditch player, so I guess there is some athleticism in me). I've always looked up to her as a role model for succeeding in college and life, and I hope that I can only succeed as well as she has.

I also look up to her as one of my LGBT models. Her girlfriend and her have been together for many years, and I only hope that I can emulate that sometime in my future. I know she doesn't read this, but if she does, I do love you very much, and I can't thank you enough for being a role model for me, even though I barely see you.

Brothers and Sisters, Part 1

My brother has always been a lively shadow of me. He’s goofy, fun, and adorable all on his own, but he constantly feels the need to do and say everything that I do. I suppose that’s how younger siblings are; they look up to you as if you’re some sort of super-human, prepared for everything without a single weakness or chunk of kryptonite to bring you down.

Younger siblings always want to be like Big Brother or Big Sister, and hey, what’s wrong with that? It might be the single joy in my life that I have a cuter, miniature male version of myself. He walks awkwardly like me, talks excitedly like me, smiles goofily like me, laughs at the same stupid things that I do. He can’t dance, hates flying insects, and loves to draw. He works hard, always looks to impress—always looking for approval.

The extent of his hero-worship is a bit extreme, however. Sometimes I find him eating foods he doesn’t like just because I like them. I see him choosing that character on Super Smash Bros. Brawl that he can’t play with to save his life, just because I mentioned liking that character. Before, he was an extreme imitator. He would’ve worn my clothes if he could’ve—worn my shoes that are far too large for him, and my jeans that are far too long for him.

My parents understand how my brother places me on a pedestal. When I came out to them, everything they said that night seemed confused and contradictory, but the one thing they did make clear was that my little brother was “not to see it” and by “it” they meant anything relating to homosexuality. I suppose they already had their silly fears for their son, who was 8 at the time.

He’s a small kid and a bit effeminate. What is there to expect from a boy who has grown up with two older sisters? There have been instances of school bullying when kids accused him of being gay (what do 3rd graders know about that? Really?) and even while playing with cousins the accusation has come up. I’m sure, after finding out that I was (well, what I told them was) bisexual that they thought I had somehow been affecting him. It’s such a simple fear, to have not one, but two queer children.

I didn’t really know how to go about shaping my brother in regards to this topic. I didn’t know how to go about telling him “it isn’t a bad thing” in a way that wasn’t telling him “Yes, mimic me! Desire the same sex.” I know he’s far too young to even be thinking about that, but what do I know about male development? Things that happen to us in our youth shape us into young adults. I tried to remain neutral whenever the topic arose, but I realize my neutrality may have come off as disapproving.

I don’t really have to worry about him wondering about my opinions now. I don’t see him as often as before and my weekend visits home are brief and infrequent, but I do know he wonders about it. He’s met my androgynous friends, met my exes and past potential girlfriends, and he’s seen the two lesbians with their son at church. He’s asked me “Why does she look like a boy?” and “Why does he have two moms?” and “Mommy says you’re gay; are you?” It’s difficult, because deep down I would give anything for him to be heterosexual. I know it’s far too early to be thinking that, and it really isn’t my problem but something inside is telling me to keep the possibilities away from him until he’s old enough to really think about it. It almost feels like I’m trying to protect him from it, which is stupid, because homosexuality isn’t something people need to be protected from (and with that being said, I reiterate that the previous statement about me wanting him to be heterosexual is merely a personal wish and that it isn't founded upon any sort of disdain for the queer community and that I know that it is his decision to make in the future).

I suppose I feel like my young, impressionable brother needs to be kept away from all sexual possibilities until he’s old enough to understand them. I don’t want to force him into any more of my opinions unknowingly. For now, I’ll continue to remain neutral to his questions—practically ignore him and change the topic if the questions continue to come. If I do somehow end up in a relationship, regardless of the sex of my partner, when my brother meets that person, s/he will only be a friend. I will not promote heterosexual or homosexual relationships in the presence of my brother. And, once I think he’s old enough, I’ll let him know about my own sexuality if he’s still curious and if he hasn’t figured it out on his own.

I love my brother dearly and without a doubt more than anyone else on this planet, and I know he loves me unconditionally. I can only hope that as he grows as a person he’ll be strong enough to develop his own opinions without the influence of others taking too much precedence over his own thoughts and beliefs. I won’t allow myself to force my opinions on him (however wonderful they are). I refuse to force my opinions on any young person I interact with and I will end this post with this scenario that happened not too long ago:

Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday I work with/tutor kids from local elementary schools. It just so happened one Wednesday I was wearing my purple Love=Love shirt for LGBTQ Spirit Day over a long-sleeved shirt. When I arrived at the classroom I was wearing a jacket but it was notably hotter in the classroom and I decided to take it off. Without a moment’s hesitation I also removed my Love=Love shirt. Following my rule of not forcing opinions on children (who, in my opinion certainly aren’t old enough to comprehend and make decisions about things such as sexuality) I brought myself to the question of whether or not I needed to really do so. There are a number of reasons I thought of as to why I needed to do so, but there were also a number of reasons as to why I didn’t need to. Here I open up the post to your opinions. Perhaps you’ll address the same questions I ask myself when I spend time with my little brother.

In which I take Mulan a little too seriously

[In addition to all of our awesome visible and identifying columnists, we also have some awesome anonymous columnists that for one reason or another must use a pseudonym (and pseudopic?). Details on anonymous columnists here.]

When I get stressed out, I like to indulge in the things that I couldn't get enough of as a kid. I color. I draw spirographs. I eat bigsquare crackers (as my family still calls them). And recently, I watched Mulan again.

Mulan came out when I was nine, and I watched it obsessively as a kid. Since realising I am trans I've been joking that it should've been a hint that the only "Disney princess" I ever identified with spent half her time as a man. But I haven't actually seen it since coming to my epiphany, and... well, I cried. A lot. But mostly in the good way.

I think Mulan might be the perfect movie for gender-non-conforming kids whose families expect them to be girls. Let me tell you what I see when I watch Mulan.

First, this montage is pretty much about drag for me:

In my mind, much of femininity (like masculinity) consists of a performance, and this sequence highlights that. (I'm trying to draw a distinction here between gender and gender expression. It's the latter that involves the most social construction.) For a lot people the performance comes naturally, feels congruent, and is even enjoyable-- if this is how you feel about the gender you were assigned at birth, congratulations, you're cisgendered! It probably doesn't even feel like a performance to you. I still feel like many of my gendered actions (like my choice in clothes) are performative, but because they feel congruent now, I simply feel like I am expressing my gender, rather than going around in drag.

Mulan, here and elsewhere in the movie, is pretty unhappy about having to perform femininity, and it seems clear to me that it's not really an expression of who she is. Which is why, to me, the montage is about drag.

In the next sequence, with the matchmaker, it becomes clear that Mulan isn't just uncomfortable with femininity-- she is a big failure at it.

I always really empathized with Mulan here, as a kid. She is trying so hard! It just doesn't come naturally to her, so she fails, fails, fails. Just like I always did. The clumsiness is particularly familiar to me-- I am incredibly clumsy, and nowadays I attribute it to my fundamental discomfort with my body. I bump my too-large hips into corners and doorways, and I actually knock things off my desk with my breasts with embarrassing regularity. It's hard to be graceful when you're fundamentally uncomfortable in your own skin.

And now, for the song that makes me cry every single time I hear it:

Seriously. Those lyrics. Literally every single line deserves to be quoted, as the narrative of a young transboy's coming out:

Look at me.

I will never pass for a perfect bride

Or a perfect daughter.

Can it be

I'm not meant to play this part?

Now I see

That if I were truly to be myself

I would break my family's heart.

Who is that girl I see

Staring straight

Back at me?

Why is my reflection someone

I don't know?

Somehow I cannot hide

Who I am

Though I've tried.

When will my reflection show

Who I am inside?

Yeah, I choked up just typing that. I was going to say something about the vocabulary-- passing as a daughter, playing the part, etc.-- but it's too close to my heart for an English-class close reading. This was the song my heart sang for ten years. It speaks for itself.

The best part of Mulan, though, is that it offers hope. Mulan's father tells her to learn her place, and she goes, "Okay, you know what my place is? The fucking army." And... she does it! Ping becomes a fucking war hero! Ping succeeds at masculinity just as much as Mulan originally failed at femininity. Sure, it's a little rough at first, but it's rough for all the men, and the movie explains how to get better:

Isn't that, like, the least-toxic definition of How To Be A Man that you've ever seen? This song is the song of my heart right now. Swift as a river, force of a typhoon, strength of a fire, mysterious as the moon. Gotcha. I can do that!

The parts where Ping is in the army are my favourites of the whole movie, because they just make me so happy. I always feel that I am watching the story of Ping, as he embraces his identity and kicks ass. That moment when all his friends cheer on the snowy mountaintop, after he has saved the army, the country, and his boyfriend-- it's such a perfect crowning moment.

Except, of course, for the fact that the movie keeps going. Here is where I begin to feel conflicted. The story requires Ping to become Mulan again. It always breaks my heart, just like Christine Daniels' transition back to Mike Penner. I just can't understand how Ping can go back. I mean, I definitely understand the societal pressures, and once Ping has been outed he doesn't exactly have a lot of options, but-- how can I accept this as the best possible ending for him?

Mulan gets everything I wanted as a kid. She gets to hug the emperor and she gets to hug her dad, and they love her. She gets the guy, and he loves her. But she only gets the happy ending because she puts the dress back on. Can't people love me when I am myself?

Like with the reflection song, I lose my facility with words at this point. So I am moving on.

This scene is super gratuitous in the movie-- seriously, they didn't have to get all dressed up just to climb those pillars, as Shang himself demonstrates-- and so my inclusion of the clip is also gratuitous:

I particularly like the reprise of the "Be A Man" song. Sure, maybe for most people it's seen as ironic-- but to me, it's saying that maybe "being a man" can include wearing dresses just for fun.

So maybe the movie doesn't give us a perfect transgender narrative-- but it does seem to imagine a radical re-definition of how we understand gender expression, and I think that can be enough. If nothing else, I am glad to have had this:

A montage that makes transitioning look epic. With swords! Everything a nine-year-old needs.

Announcement: I’m married!

I’m pleased to announce to both this blog and the world that I’m married!

It happened late one night after the emotional rollercoaster that was HP7P1. I proposed on bended knee was answered with an immediate and heartfelt “YES!” We were both so excited that we skipped the engagement altogether and were married within a few minutes.

My spouse and I love each other, as well as our new life. We don’t regret the shotgun nature of the marriage at all.

* * * * *

Before you send me a toaster, however, allow me to clarify. While the story above is 100% accurate, I should mention that the marriage is only official within the realm of cyberspace. That’s right- like so many other gay men I’m married to a straight woman on Facebook.

We did it as a joke, and because we’re really close friends. After we made it “Facebook-official,” she expressed sympathy that this was the only kind of marriage that I can legally have in North Carolina, and that idea has kind of haunted me- that the only kind of marriage I’m allowed to have is a farce, a joke between friends.

Not that I want to be married in the immediate future, of course. I guess it’s just the angsty teenager in me simmering at the fact that I can’t do something that, like, everyone else can.

Nothing like a cup of second-class citizenship in the morning, eh? Have a nice Friday!