Tag: Gayskool

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LGBTQ Married Life

🏳️‍🌈 Presentando a Mi Media Naranja

Britt and Dave on a street covered with umbrellas in San Jose, Puerto Rico

There are two words for husband in Spanish, but I only use one to refer to mi media naranja, the Complimentary Spouse:

Marido.

A few English speakers have tried to tell me that the correct word is esposo. 

Really? ÂżCĂłmo te atreves a cuestionarme?

There are two reasons why esposo is not the right word. One is conventional, and the other has to do with same-sex marriage.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

First, marido is the word I’ve always used for husband. Growing up in Madrid, marido y mujer meant husband and wife. No one used esposo y esposa in everyday language. They are formal words, like those you’d find in legal documents.1

Second, there is no feminine version of marido.2

That’s critical for me because I no longer speak Spanish well. I forget essential words and stumble over verbs all the time. Recently, I couldn’t remember the word for spoon and had to ask for un tenedor para sopa.3 The few times I have said esposo, the person I was talking to assumed I meant esposa. I’d assume the same if I were dealing with someone with the vocabulary and grammar skills of a discombobulated toddler.

With marido, there’s no confusion. People get it right away.

Because of how gender works in Spanish grammar, saying somos esposos is open to interpretation. Most people will assume it refers to an opposite-sex married couple. But somos maridos is unambiguous. It means we’re husbands.

Being out and visible makes a difference, no matter where you are or what language you’re speaking. Not only is marido the right word to use, but it’s also the right word to describe the other half of my orange.

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1 I think American schools teach esposo y esposa because it follows the simple, predictable pattern for pairs of masculine and feminine nouns. I’m talking about simple, well-known words like perro y perra, professor y professora, or cazafantasmo y cazafantasma.

2 The word marida exists, but it’s not a noun, and it doesn’t mean wife.

3 Britt says I speak Spanish better than I think I do. On a train from Segovia to Madrid a few years ago, I turned to him and said, “You know, I really wish I could still speak Spanish well.”

“At lunch, you explained Critical Race Theory to the couple next to us,” he said.4

“I’m not sure it made sense,” I said. “I probably sounded no smarter than a six-year-old.”

“They clearly understood you,” Britt said. “And a lot people protesting CRT sound no smarter than a six-year-old … in their native language.”

4 No, I did not turn to them abruptly and say, “Can you pass the salt and, also, do you want to hear about controversial U.S. social issues?” We struck up a conversation about how great the restaurant was, and we ended up chatting all lunch. They asked about CRT because something was recently on the news in Spain, but they didn’t fully understand it.

Categories
LGBTQ Sportsball

🏳️‍🌈 Allies Go to Bat for Pride Games

Person wearing a Pride bucket hat, facing the field at a Rays game.

Updated on June 9, 2024, with more fabulous feedback from adorable allies!

The Complimentary Spouse and I spent this afternoon at the Trop, America’s best OKest worst godawfulest ballpark, and saw our beloved but bumbling Tampa Bay Rays lose to the Orioles. We had a gay ol’ time, despite the loss, because it was this year’s Pride game.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

I’ve written about Pride games before (cf. Take Me Out to the Ballgame and Up High!), but I’ve never asked straight allies what they think about them. I reached out to a few friends to get their thoughts. Here’s what they said:

I feel proud to be part of a celebration of humanity. đŸŒˆ

It’s always great to celebrate humanity. It’s even better with hot dogs and beer.

I think of Pride games the same way I think of all such games. Whether it’s Jackie Robinson Day, Roberto Clemente Day, Jewish Heritage Day, or any similar day, it’s all about recognition. They demonstrate that baseball is for anyone and everyone. All people should be comfortable at the ballpark, whether playing or in the stands.

When I’m at a Pride game, or any similar type game for the matter, for whatever reason, I find myself looking around to see if there are any assholes who have a problem with anything that is happening. But I love seeing the people celebrating the day.

I wish we were at a point where such days weren’t necessary. But those who have a problem with it are the ones who get ostracized. That’s progress.

Yup, I see my fair share of sneers, whispered asides, and disdainful looks. But I know the assholes have to be on their best behavior at these events, so I feel more amused than endangered.

Their discomfort tickles and sustains me.

I think it’s fabulous! It opens the eyes of straight white heterosexual men in an environment they’re comfortable in.

Yup, I see this too! A lot of people in the stands aren’t used to being around so many out and proud LGBTQ folks. They see real human beings, not stereotypes from teevee or the bogeymen our enemies portray us as. Sometimes, I catch them waving rainbow flags, mouthing the words when the DJ plays a gay anthem, and applauding the same-sex couples featured on the KissCam.

Their comfort tickles and sustains me.

What is this thing you call “sporting events”?!

It’s that stuff that happens before and after the Super Bowl halftime show. No, not the commercials. The other stuff.

I remember one time I wore a red shirt to Disney. This was before the internet, and I had no idea it was Gay Day. People kept coming up to me to celebrate. It took me a while to figure out what was going on. I didn’t mind. I liked being part of something like that.

I think it’s the same thing with Pride games. People are celebrating something important to them. What’s the problem with that?

By the way, you guys need more than a month. Pride should be all year long.

“By the way, do you still wear red shirts?” he asked.

“No, we’re doing hot pink T-shirts covered with Swarovski crystals now,” I replied.

Fun for the whole family.

Not only that, but you’re guaranteed to hear Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family.”

It’s pretty much the only time I go. My straight friends never invite me to baseball games.

I’m biased, but I certainly think events are more fun with LGBTQ people. Especially baseball, because every term related to the game is a gay double entendre.

I know you’re dying to learn what those sporty yet naughty terms are. Well, I’m not going to tell you here. You’ll just have to join Britt and me at an upcoming Pride game.

Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Naming a Plague

Before AIDS was called AIDS, it had another name. Actually, a few.

In 1981, doctors noticed an unexpected and alarming increase in pneumonia deaths among gay men. The cause was a sexually transmitted disease that attacked the immune system.

Researchers named the disease Gay-Related Immune Deficiency, or GRID. It was sometimes called Gay Lymph Node Syndrome, Gay Compromise Syndrome, and Community-Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome.

Some simply called it Gay Cancer.

By late 1982, it was becoming clear that gay men weren’t the only victims. Some people who had received blood transfusions or shared intravenous needles were also succumbing to the same disease. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention began calling it Auto-Immune Deficiency Syndrome, or AIDS.

I grew up as the plague took hold, insulated from it but not ignorant about it. The word AIDS (or SIDA when I lived in Spain) was inescapable when I was in my teens, and I knew that it wasn’t simply a medical term. Those four capital letters could be more powerful and devastating than a nuclear bomb (another inescaple term from my teens) becuase led to pain, ridicule, shame, guilt, ostraciziation, hate, and death.1

I learned later that, for some, the word did more than strike fear and invite despair. The acronym of my nightmares ignited compassion, spurred action, transfomed people into activists and allies, and gave us the strength, vision, and moral impertive to push for acceptance, diginity, and equal rights.

The word AIDS connotes despair and darkness — rightfully so — but let’s never forget it also refers to love and hope. After all, what’s in a name? Whatever we want.

Footnote
  1. An interesting but utterly inconsequential footnote: The Complimentary Spouse used to belong to an academic association called the American Institute for Decision Sciences. That meant he contributed to AIDS journals and participated in AIDS conferences. In 1986, for obvious reasons, it changed its name to the Decision Sciences Institute. ↩︎
Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Three Words for Allies to Live By

Pride flag in Christopher Park, NYC

Not long ago, someone asked what it takes to be a good LGBTQ ally.

The answer comes down to three words: empathy, education, and advocacy.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

Empathy

Empathy helps you understand what we’re feeling and experiencing at a visceral level. With it, you bring emotional intelligence, compassion, and sensitivity to your allyship.

Empathy is about standing in someone else’s shoes, feeling with his or her heart, seeing with his or her eyes. Not only is empathy hard to outsource and automate, but it makes the world a better place.

Daniel H. Pink

Education

Education doesn’t mean earning a degree or walking across a stage to collect a diploma — although commencement ceremonies are an excuse to get dressed up! Think of that gown as a little black dress or a muumuu. Either way, you look fabulous.

To educate yourself, actively watch, listen, and ask questions about LGBTQ issues. Be curious and eager to learn. Don’t worry about becoming an expert.

I remember speaking to a primary care physician about ten years ago and asking him what blood type I am. I didn’t know; it had never been recorded on my chart, and I wondered if he could run a test. He said donating blood was the easiest, fastest, cheapest way to determine my type.

He knew I was gay. But he had no idea that, at the time, gay men couldn’t donate blood. He said he had no idea when I told him about the ban.

I don’t think he was ignorant, and I know he wasn’t hateful or homophobic. As smart as he was about medicine, I wish he had been better educated about this issue. It made me feel like I was living in his blind spot.

A quick aside to my LGBTQ family: We’re also on the hook for education. It’s imperative that we educate our allies — in a way that’s constructive and encouraging — to ensure they’re informed. That’s what I did with my doctor.

And there’s no excuse for us not to educate ourselves. There’s nothing that infuriates me more than an LGBTQ person who doesn’t know about the very issues that affect their lives, livelihoods, and dignity.

Advocacy

As an ally, your most important role is to advocate for LGBTQ people, especially when we can’t advocate for ourselves. Be a champion.

Here are some things allies do that I appreciate:

  • Being visible at events like Pride: Just waving a rainbow flag is more meaningful than you can imagine.
  • Sharing your pronouns: Something as simple as adding he/him or she/her to your email signature can make a huge difference. It lets others know they can share their pronouns with you without fear, discomfort, or judgment. Consider putting pronouns in your social media profiles and using them when you introduce yourself.
  • Correcting others: If you hear someone use outdated or offensive terminology, set them straight point out the error. I had to do this the other day when someone called herself a “f– hag,” believe it or not.1 Unless I have reason to believe otherwise, I assume the speaker doesn’t know their language is offensive and attempt to address the issue respectfully.2
  • Calling out homophobia: Don’t let it slide when others make disparaging remarks, perpetuate stereotypes, or make hateful jokes. And don’t let the speaker turn the tables and claim you’re too sensitive or don’t have a sense of humor. The issue is what’s being said — not how you react to it.3

Being an ally can’t just be about nodding when someone says something we agree with — important as that is. It must also be about action. It’s our job to stand up for those who are not at the table when life-altering decisions are made.

Kamala Harris

More About Allyship

There are many resources for LGBTQ allies on the Internet, but none are as comprehensive as this Human Rights Campaign report.

Footnotes
  1. No, sweetie, that word doesn’t fly. I don’t care that all your friends thought it was funny 15 years ago. ↩︎
  2. But G-d help the next person who says “sexual preference” within earshot of me. Them’s fighting words, and I will cut a bitch. ↩︎
  3. Also, “I apologize if you were offended” is not an apology. “I apologize for what I said” is. ↩︎
Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Do You Kiss Your Mother’s Guns With That Mouth?

I intend to write a post soon about the usage of “gay” as an insult — as in the expression “that’s so gay” — but I’m pressed for time today, so let me share the following article from the mother Advocate:

“Kyle Rittenhouse mocked for trying to make ‘gay’ a slur on the first day of Pride Month.”

— The Advocate, June 5, 2024

“Being called gay is not quite the insult Rittenhouse thinks it is. In fact, it’s a compliment. To quote Richie Jackson, “Being gay is, still, acting up and fighting back.”

Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Illuminating Pride

The war on LGBTQ people here in Florida is real. The bigots in the state legislature are coming for our books, entertainers, health care, dignity — and now our light bulbs.

But my queer peers in Jacksonville are fighting back with a bright idea. They spread across the iconic Main Street Bridge with flashlights to create a rainbow.

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 The First Pride Was a Riot. And Don’t Forget It.

Historical marker at the Stonewall Inn

About four years ago, people infuriated by George Floyd’s murder turned to the streets. Most, but not all, of the action was peaceful. When people began to claim that the destruction of property never solved anything, I was quick to point out that the Stonewall Riots in 1969 launched the LGBTQ civil rights movement as we know it.

Someone challenged me and said Stonewall was a protest, not a riot.

Which is bullshit.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

Stonewall was, by every conceivable definition, a riot. It was spontaneous, disorderly, violent, and destructive. It may have started with the shot glass heard ’round the world, but it quickly escalated.

Police officers, under attack, tried to barricade themselves in the bar they had raided just hours ago. Rioters attempted to bash the door down using a parking meter as a battering ram. They also tried to set the bar on fire, knowing full well that the building had no fire exits or running water.

The riots died down each morning and picked up again after dark. They lasted for five days and galvanized LGBTQ people. In just a few months, groups like the Gay Liberation Front took shape, pushing for activism over incremental change. A year after Stonewall, the first Pride march took place.

In recent years, I’ve seen efforts to make the Stonewall riots seem more peaceful and respectable. Hence, people claiming it was a protest and not a riot.1

In fact, a 2015 film whitewashed the Stonewall uprising. Literally. While the Stonewall Inn’s patrons were typically people of color, trans people, and drag queens, the film revolves around a white cisgender man who didn’t even exist — the character was created for the film!

You don’t have to condone violence. You don’t have to like what happened at Stonewall. But don’t deny the reality of what happened that night in 1969 and what it achieved.

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1 That being said, it was certainly a fabulous riot:

They [the police] formed a line trying to push the rioters back, but the crowd were having none of it. They started their own line, an impromptu chorus line at that, with synchronised kicking like the Rockettes of Radio City Music Hall and singing a song to the tune of ‘Ta-Ra-Ra Boom-De-Ay’: ‘We are the Stonewall girls. We wear our hair in curls. We don’t wear underwear. We show our pubic hair.’ This was something new – weaponised camp as part of a violent, disorganised, political uprising.

“Camp! The Story of the Attitude that Conquered the World” by Paul Baker

Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 More Musical Numbers

Yesterday, I introduced my Song Gayness Rating System, which is probably bunk but was fun to create.

Now let’s look at the scores for some well-known songs:

SongScoreNotes
“Born This Way” by Lady Gaga136.5Well, duh.
“I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor123.5If you’ve never seen anyone pantomime this song on the dance floor, you haven’t really been to a gay club.
“Vogue” by Madonna123.5Strike a pose.
“YMCA” by the Village People123.5You can hang out with all the boys.
“Smalltown Boy” by Bronski Beat115.5Downbeat lyrics with upbeat music.
“Believe” by Cher104The vocoder breaks new ground in terms of singing styles and camp.
“MONTERO (Call Me by Your Name)” by Lil Nas X102Unapologetically gay rap song.
“Follow Your Arrow” by Kacey Musgrave102I kissed a girl … in a country song? Groundbreaking!
“I Was Born to Be Gay” by Carl Bean99The only thing weighing down this score is that the song wasn’t a mainstream hit.
“I Want to Break Free” by Queen97.5The drag queen Queen video was so groundbreaking at the time that MTV banned it.
“Over the Rainbow” by Judy Garland90Cue the hate mail from people who think this song should have been rated higher.
“Same Love” by Macklemore85I was sick of this song two nanoseconds after it came out.
”Last Dance“ by Donna Summer50Held back by the Donna Summer rule

Want to check my math or calculate your own scores? Download the Excel template here:

Daily Dave Song Gayness Rating SystemDownload
Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Summing Up Gay Music

Various neon signs showing musical genres

It’s time to hoist the rainbow flags! Today is the beginning of Pride Month, the most fabulous 30 days of the year.

I’m kicking off this year’s Gayskool series with two playlists to get you in the mood for Pride. First up: my Super Pride Mix, something I created a few years ago and update regularly.

And here’s a newer playlist: Queers Covering Queers. As you’ve probably guessed from the name, these are LGBTQ artists covering songs originally written or performed by other LGBTQ artists.

Who’s Keeping Score of LGBTQ Music? I Am.

What makes a song an LGBTQ song? No one has created a formula to calculate exactly how gay a song is … until now. Dear reader, allow me to introduce The Daily Dave Song Gayness Rating System, something I came up with about 30 minutes ago a carefully thought-out formula I have been developing for ages:

CriteriaPoints
Performed by an LGBTQ artist or ally+25
Obvious LGBTQ message or subject matter+25
Unstated LGBTQ message or subject matter+15
Theme of empowerment, self-acceptance, or resiliance+25
Mainstream hit+10
Danceability or lip-syncability +5
Artist or band has made anti-LGBTQ comments (a.k.a. the Donna Summer rule)-70

At this point, the maximum number of points for any song is 100,1 but I’ve added some additional factors that amplify or lower the score, because I’ve been overthinking and overcomplicating things all my life, and I’m not gonna stop now.

MultiplierPercentage
Can you vogue to the song, or act out the lyrics?10%
Is the singer a bonafide gay diva?10%
Does the song break ground in a genre that typically ignores or is hostile to LGBTQ musicians and themes?10%
Does Dave love the song?10%
Does Dave hit the skip button every time this song comes on because he’s so sick of it?-10%

Anything over 75 points should be considered an LGTBQ song. If it’s over 90 points, you’ve probably got a gay anthem on your hand.

If you’re really nitpicky observant, you’ll notice that I haven’t followed my own rating system when I put together the playlists. There is a totally valid reason for this, which I will share as soon as I think of it. In the meantime, consider the playlists a work of love, not logic.

If you want a playlist programmed by an algorithm, ask ChatGPT.

All that aside, Turn up the music! It’s time to celebrate Pride!

_____
1 But that adds up to 115, you’re saying. And you’re wrong. A single song can’t have both a stated and unstated LGBTQ message.

Categories
LGBTQ Married Life

🏳️‍🌈 The Big, Boring Impact of Obergefell

This polite tirade started as a really short LinkedIn post but just kept growing.

Yesterday was the eighth anniversary of the Obergefell v. Hodges decision, which made marriage equality the law of the United States. Looking back at the joyous media coverage in 2015, you’d think the issue was about cake, confetti, and matching tuxedos.

Well, it was. But it really wasn’t. The real legacy of Obergefell is more meaningful — and less exciting — than you can imagine.

Yes, less exciting. Let me explain why:

My husband and I had been married seven years before Obergefell, but our marriage was only recognized in a few states. In our home state, just like at the national level, we had the legal status of roommates. It was confusing and degrading — and also unfair from an economic perspective.

For example, when we tried to add me as a second driver for a rental car in Las Vegas in 2011, the agent said there would be an additional charge. This rental company didn’t charge for spouses, so I said, “We’re married.” Loud enough for everyone to hear, she cruelly clapped back with, “Married? Not in Nevada, the hell you’re not.”1

I bring this up for two reasons:

  • That indignation haunts me to this day.
  • Being charged $10 or $15 a day for an additional driver is an example of the countless economic benefits we were denied but opposite-sex married couples could take for granted.

The economic inequality same-sex couples faced was especially prominent and painful at tax time. Even though we were married, my husband and I couldn’t take advantage of hundreds of federal benefits for married people filing jointly.

For example, as the husband of a university professor, my MBA and other master’s degree should have cost nothing: Free tuition was a perk for spouses of employees. But even though I didn’t have to pay the school a penny for anything except books and parking, I had to pay federal income tax on the full imputed value of the courses I took. That added up to thousands of dollars that an opposite-sex spouse wouldn’t have to pay.

We also had to pay taxes on the healthcare benefits I received when I needed to switch to my husband’s plan. Opposite-sex spouses didn’t have to pay taxes on their healthcare benefits.

The Obergefell decision was about dignity and equality. It’s easy to remember the parties, champagne, and wedding gifts, but I am most grateful for how Obergefell made our lives better in millions of small, mundane ways.

We feel the impact of Obergefell when we file taxes, sign paperwork, and apply for loans. We feel it when we go through customs and immigration at the airport and present our passports together, like any other married couple. We feel it when we’re shopping for auto insurance.

And trust me, we feel it every time we’re at the car rental counter in Las Vegas. Are we married in Nevada? Hell yes we are!

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1 I’m using a skosh of artistic license here. What she said probably wasn’t as loud or nasty, but it certainly made me feel terrible.