A Different Kind of Me-Too

Do you sometimes think we’re lulled into a false sense of security and even a happy kind of all’s right with the world, because there are rules and laws in place that say we’re equal and should be treated equally?

Equality legislation is a feature of our progressive sensibilities and societies, and most of us rightly feel proud to be a part of that. But…

Just because people in a government somewhere all cheered ‘the aye’s have it, hear hear’, there were probably quite a few ‘nays’ as well who weren’t at all pleased. And just because other people wrote it down and made it a law, doesn’t mean everyone else everywhere agrees. And just because it’s the law, doesn’t mean everyone’s going to obey it, or that there aren’t ways to subvert that law without appearing to do so. 

In fact when something as fundamental as equality has to be enshrined in law, we probably need to examine why it has to be. Because, if it isn’t arising organically then there are serious issues that aren’t being addressed, and won’t be, because no-one is even looking for them. 

And because no-one’s looking it also makes it much easier for the people who don’t agree, won’t agree, will never agree, to find sinister and underhand ways and means of persecuting those they perceive as different, underserving, not even human. All we’ve really done is turn the macro aggression which is at least, highly visible into micro aggression. Which although smaller, is nonetheless insidiously and vindictively powerful.

Simple things like ‘oh, didn’t you get the message’ about the important presentation you had done all the work for and were somehow excluded from. Or ‘sorry, are you sure you made a reservation. I can’t see your name…’; or ‘while you’re qualified, you don’t have the specific (unspecified) skillset that we are aiming for’ and ‘we thought in this instance we’d go with someone who needed less training’. It can be a demoralising downward spiral affecting every aspect of someone’s life. For a child it could be the shove, and the ‘sorry, I didn’t see you there’, getting picked last every single time, not getting the invitation to the party that everyone else is going to (again), and then being called out as if it’s your own fault with a ‘haha… why didn’t you say something?’ 

It’s covert, sometimes hidden, even from the awareness of the people spouting the words, because they are presented with such reasonableness. And in that reasonableness, it is almost possible to convince yourself that you aren’t doing anything wrong.

In this strange world where there’s no (apparent) discrimination anymore, we have high profile icons: entertainers, movie star, CEOs, celebrities, who we hold up as proof that equality is alive and well. Sadly, the flip side is that it must therefore, be your own deficiencies which are causing the stagnation of your career, or your selection for the job, or your inclusion in humanity. We use tokens for this as well. The token black, the token woman, the token gay who point to what a good job we’re all doing with the equal opportunity palaver.

BUT what is more frightening now, is that the micro is morphing. 

Right wing ideologies are re-energising those people who were never in agreement but had kept their silence if not their peace. The underground war against gays, blacks, indigenous, women, the different, that had been going on in isolated minds and small secret enclaves, is poking its head out into the light again, gaining traction as more heads pop up out of the mud. A different kind of me-too movement? I don’t know. But the strength in numbers of like-minded bigotry must be seductive. The anti-gay rhetoric is growing in many places along with the threat and deed of violence.

Call me an idealist, but all I can say, is please don’t forget to honour the past. Remember what happened to the Oscar Wildes the Alan Turings. Learn what happened to the George Duncans and the Scott Johnsons and the hundreds of others whose lives and deaths inspired my book The Outing. On their honouring, we can build the type of world we actually do want. One where we don’t have legislation to protect our freedom to be who we are, because we don’t need it. One where we can smile while we honour the past because we’ve brought something special from it to the present. And one where we extend the honour into the future as a place where finally there is no longer a place for fear. 

The Outing is a fictional memoir. Robert’s story encapsulates life in Queensland (Australia) in the 1980s. The life of a gay man when being gay was illegal, when blatant police and political corruption sanctioned violence and prejudice. He almost manages to convince himself he’s happy until the man who would have taken his heart comes back into his life and then disappears, and Robert’s quest for justice becomes tied to a quest for his own identity.