In some of my previous blog posts, I espoused the many benefits and advantages of being part of the gay community in Toronto. It was recently brought to my attention, however, that my favourable experience of our community is in part due to the fact that I am a white, Canadian-born, cis-gendered male.
So I took an honest look at my own history and experiences as an out gay man and compared that to the experiences of gay men of colour in my social circle. While it’s no secret that within the LGBTQ community there are groups that are more marginalized than others, what became clear to me was that this discrimination was more pervasive than I thought, even amongst gay men. It turns out that many of the perks and benefits I enjoy has a lot to do with the colour of my skin, not to mention my social and economic status.
I don’t say that with hubris, but rather as an acknowledgement that in our rainbow community, my particular stripe affords me a certain amount of privilege. What is privilege anyway? Google defines it as: “a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group.”
Misconceptions about privilege
These days, the word privilege tends to get some people defensive. But having privilege doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, nor does it mean you’re deliberately oppressing minority groups. It certainly doesn’t mean that you haven’t had legitimate struggles or experienced other forms of oppression. And it doesn’t disqualify the efforts of your hard-earned achievements.
Having privilege doesn’t mean you’ve done something wrong; it’s not a personal attack. It’s about acknowledging the systematic discrimination that is so ingrained in society that it has become normalized. Certain people benefit from the way society is structured, whether they know it or not. For example, wealthy people have greater access to quality services (classism). Able-bodied people can easily go anywhere they want without obstruction (ableism). Women earn 79 cents for every dollar a man makes in the same job (sexism).
When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.
It’s important to note that discussing privilege isn’t about jostling for the position of most oppressed group. Doing so only diverts attention away from the real issue of equality: having equal access to the same rights, benefits, and advantages regardless of skin colour, sexuality, gender, class, etc. When talking about equality, we must keep in mind the old adage that when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.
Straight privilege
As queer people, we are all familiar with the concept of straight privilege. These are unearned benefits that heteros get that the rest of us do not. Some common examples:
- Being able to share a public display of affection without fear of hostility, ridicule, negative comments, or violent reactions.
- Not having to “come out” as most people will likely assume you’re straight.
- Having an abundance of examples of romance, sex, and relationships in mainstream media.
- Being able to travel anywhere in the world knowing that you will not be harassed, beaten, or killed because of your sexuality.
- Being able to raise, adopt, and teach children without people believing that you will molest them or force them to be gay.
When we point out examples of straight privilege to our hetero friends, the goal isn’t to shame them; it’s about raising awareness and understanding. After all, straight people who understand their privilege make the best allies. Similarly, when I look at my own privilege, it allows me to understand that others do not enjoy the same benefits as I do. This inspires me to step up as an ally within the LGBTQ community.
My privilege isn’t just that I’m a white Canadian male. I’m also able-bodied, middle class, English-speaking, and come from a Catholic background. Like it or not, Canadian society has both conscious and unconscious biases that give me an advantage, even as a gay man.
White privilege, gay edition
The thing about privilege is that it is often invisible to the people who have it. I only recently became aware of my privilege. Before that, I believed that everyone had the same experience of being gay as I did. Here are some classic examples of what white privilege looks like in the gay community:
- Media and advertising disproportionately portrays white men which normalizes the idea of a queer person as a white gay male. The 2015 Stonewall movie is a blatant example of white-washing LGBTQ history
- White guys are less likely to be racially fetishized for the colour of their skin.
- The police do not racially profile white men and therefore, we are likely to enjoy a better relationship with them and other institutions.
- White guys are less likely to be subject to exclusionary messaging on dating apps (i.e.: “No Asians”)
These are examples of how racial discrimination permeates the gay community, which is not very different from how it functions in the mainstream. It is important that those of us who have any kind of privilege be aware of it because whatever struggles we face as gay men in a hetero-dominant society, it is likely that if we weren’t white, cis, or male, those struggles would be even more challenging to overcome.
The intention is to create a space where gay men of colour can express what it means to be at the intersection of race and sexuality.
Gayness is intersectional
What I’ve learned from exploring privilege is that gayness is intersectional. What that means is that the way in which other people experience being gay is influenced by factors such as class and race- not just sexuality. When we fail to understand this, we risk creating a culture that prioritizes the white version of the L, G, B, and T experiences without considering that non-white LGBTQ people have unique perspectives and face unique challenges that we may be blind to.
For example, social scientists have found that minorities suffer from mental and physical health disparities compared to their peers in majority groups. This is a result of the prejudice and discrimination they face in their day to day lives. This concept is called minority stress and for individuals who are both a racial minority and sexual minority, the probability of physical and mental health issues is compounded.
Historically, at least in Canada, we have done a great job of advocating to achieve equality with straight people. However, we must do more going forward to ensure our advocacy includes issues that are pertinent to the more marginalized members of our LGBTQ community, such as trans people and queer people of colour.
Wellismo
So what am I going to do about it? As a gay, white man who has created this platform for gay men’s wellness topics, I feel it is incumbent on me to acknowledge that my personal perspectives shared here are tinged with privilege.
Does that mean I shut it down? No. Does that discredit my experiences, stories, and struggles? Absolutely not. But it does mean that I can do more as an ally within our LGBTQ community so that the narratives expressed here are not solely those of a white gay man.
You need a black friend. It’s 2019. If you don’t have a black friend… you’re the problem.
Wanda Sykes, Not Normal
Introducing Invisible Minorities
To that end I have decided to establish a series within Wellismo called Invisible Minorities. The intention is to create a space where gay men of colour can express what it means to be at the intersection of race and sexuality.
I obviously cannot explore this on my own, so I will be collaborating with gay men of colour to delve into the complexity, joys, and pains of being a gay person of colour in our community. My first collaborator is Lawrence, a Filipino-Canadian man. Look for his guest blog here soon.
These are stories we don’t hear often enough. Had it not been for these men, I would have continued living blissfully unaware of my privilege. My hope is that bringing these stories to light will lead to a more empathetic understanding of their unique experiences which in turn strengthens the ties within the greater LGBTQ community.
If you’re a white gay man, look around and examine your social circles. If all the people around you look just like you, there’s a good chance you’re blind to your privilege.
If you would like to share your experience as a minority group within the LGBTQ community, please contact me or subscribe below.
Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash
