Cheers to the Queers

To help people understand why “queer” is such a great word and why we should get comfortable using it, I’ve listed my top five reason below:

First, “queer” is concise. There have been many letters used to identify various members of the LGBTQIA+ community. Each letter is important and serves a purpose. Adding letters has been a necessary and helpful evolution to include members of the community who are something other than gay or lesbian. We should continue to add more letters as we learn more about gender, sex, and sexuality. However, LGBTQIA+ is a mouthful. “Queer” is only one syllable. It’s more efficient when referring to the entire to community as “queer” rather than list out each individual letter.

Second, embracing the word “queer” is an act of resistance and redemption. If you are like me, you grew up hearing the word “queer” used as a derogatory term for gender nonconforming behaviors. I regularly heard the word used as a put down and I internalized that shame in very harmful ways. Even though I had a limited vocabulary to describe my queer experience, I knew “queer” meant “bad.” If I was queer, that meant I was bad too, so I decided I wasn’t queer because I wasn’t bad. It never occurred to me that being queer could be good.

This can also be seen by Queer Nation’s efforts. The slogan used by proponents is literally, “We’re here! We’re queer! Get used to it!” This is the act of resistance which queers have been using for decades to redeem queerness as a legitimate and moral way of life.

If you had asked me twenty years ago if I would be using the word “queer” as a self-identifier, I wouldn’t have believed you. Yet, now I proudly wear the label and march down the streets proclaiming my queerness. This is an act of resistance and redemption. I am saying strongly and confidently, “Yes, I’m queer, and that’s not bad.”

Third, the label “queer” affords privacy. The constant struggle for social acceptance is balancing privacy with legitimacy. For example, to legitimize gay marriage, people will need to “come out” as gay, bi, or queer. Sexual preferences are private and intimate information. My sexual and romantic preferences are not everyone’s business. Yet, to legalize and legitimize gay marriage, people would have to make their desires to be married to their same-sex partner known. For the queer activist, legitimacy and privacy are constantly competing with one another.

This is also true of the trans, intersex, genderqueer, and non-binary experiences. People seem to think they are entitled to knowledge about a person’s biology or genitals.  If a person is wearing a dress they may mistakenly assume that person has a vulva or should have a vulva. However, the genderqueer community challenges that assumption. A person wearing a dress might have a vulva, penis, or something in between. The point is, it’s not the public’s business what my genitals look like. Yet, that’s where the tension arises. For so long our clothing, names, pronouns, and mannerisms have been used as social markers to indicate what a person’s genitals might look like that when someone’s gender presentation doesn’t match public assumptions people may become confused, angry, or violent. No one should assume they know anything about the morphology of my genitals, regardless of my gender presentation. The queer community gets such limited privacy about our preferences, desires, bodies, and biology that when we demand it others find that upsetting.

I used to fall victim to this mentality too. I used to think I had to give out a list of my surgeries, medications, hormones, or sexual experiences just to legitimize myself. Without thinking about it, I gave up my privacy in exchange for legitimacy. To a certain extent, this was necessary as an activist. However, the word “queer” gives me the privacy I long for. You don’t get to know my sexual history, medical history, gender experience, or preferences. However, with the label “queer” you do know I’m not having an exclusively heterosexual, cisgender experience. The details of my experience are mine to share only at my discretion.

Fourth, “queer” is accurate. Synonyms for “queer” include odd, strange, peculiar, unusual, or uncommon. This seems like an accurate descriptor for our community. There’s nothing wrong with admitting our gender and/or sexual experiences are in the minority or unusual. We have an uncommon experience. However, just because something is uncommon doesn’t make it bad. In certain cases, uncommon things are prized above others for their rarity and uniqueness. Even if people have used “queer” to suggest that because something is uncommon or unusual means it’s bad, well, they are simply wrong.

Fifth, “queer” is poised to represent all of us. Every one of the letters in the LGBTQIA+ community represents some sort of queer experience, whether it’s related to gender, sexuality, or both doesn’t need to be specified, unless the person using it wants to specify. The word “queer” has many meanings and offers enough ambiguity to be inclusive of many queer experiences. The undefined abstractness of “queer” could be just what we need to keep what unities us, while giving ourselves space to be individuals.

I also want to note there are still members, often older members, of our community who just don’t like the word “queer.” That’s fair and I’m sure they have good reasons for not liking the word “queer.” However, as the queer movement has evolved beyond just the “L” and “G,” the word “queer” has been an overwhelmingly positive change and act of inclusion for all of us in the community. It’s important to recognize we are stronger together and while “queer” may take some getting used to, our queerness is nothing to be ashamed of.

Cheers to another year of queerness!