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| By Ludovic Bertron from New York City, USA |
The first time, we told them about our transgender daughter. The second time, about two years later, we told them about my transgender wife and, by proxy, the fact that she and I are now in a same-sex marriage.
We're officially, you know, that lesbian couple.
The suburbs are often seen as intolerant bastions of conservative beliefs. "They're really nice to you until you're different," had been my motto about communities outside the city core for a long time. I was really hesitant to move here, thinking my beliefs would be vastly different from everyone else's.
But we did it anyway. Because when we bought this house, I had no idea we were about to become the queerest queers who ever queered. The mortgage price was right and it was close to Zoe's work, so we figured it was a safe move.
Then life changed, and I held my breath, awaiting harsh judgment.
But I was wrong. The neighbours who know us have been great at rolling with all the changes in our family. Some of them even came to Zoe's coming out party a few months ago.
But what about the rest of them?
The best place to take a community's tolerance pulse is, of course, online. People are far braver behind a keyboard. And what better place to see what people are really thinking than on the neighbourhood community Facebook page?
We have two of them actually. There's the original community page, then a second one that was started when a neighbour named Ian felt he was being "bullied" by the members of the original one and left.
Awww! That's nice, right? A "friendly forum" where people are encouraged to express their opinions with the goal of making the community a "great place". What's not to love?
So I joined both groups a while back. Hey, I'm no hater. Also, I like to get to know my neighbours. That's how you get jam and pies and free shit after the garage sales are over, you know.
But last week, things took a turn for the worse. Ian posted this share, which he seemed to agree with.
Oh, dear. This just got awkward.
I lost count of how many different types of people were discriminated against in this one paragraph.
Let's try again: Women who want to be fairly represented by having a single word changed in the Canadian national anthem, people with disabilities, the entire LGBTQ community, kids with allergies, and pretty much anyone who isn't a white dude. Impressive.
Unfortunately, Bob and Ian both suffer from bad timing. Bob's original rant was posted the day of the Orlando massacre. And Ian chose to share it the day after those 49 innocent people were murdered in cold blood for daring to live and love as their true selves. Nice job, guys.
I didn't see the post until Friday, five days after it was shared. That's probably good for Ian. Raw Emotions Amanda is not a good communicator. But when I did eventually see it, the hurt and anger I felt reading it was followed immediately by gratitude. Lots and lots of gratitude.
These are some of the responses of my community members.
I don't know Kim. But I like Kim. I like her even more after she replies to this dude Gord's comment.
Kim. Whoa. Way to slay it with education. My little queer activist heart is all aflutter.
"We're here! We're... straight." Nope. Doesn't work. No parades for you, straight folks. Dana knows what's up.
I don't know Dana, but she's officially made my Gay Christmas card list. (It's like a normal Christmas card list, but with more SPARKLES.)
BAM. Kelena is the Anderson Cooper of the neighbourhood, asking the hard-hitting questions.
And not satisfied with the lack of response to her questions, she tags Ian to ask for clarification:
Word to Big Bird. What they said.
And then Andrea comes out of nowhere and just tells it like it is:
YOU GUYS. Someone mentioned white male privilege. In the suburbs. This is the best day of my life.
Also, Andrea is the person I'm going to ask anytime I need an honest opinion about how I look in a dress.
Anyway, Ian had decided enough was enough, and insisted no one else comment. But I still felt I needed to say something. So I did. I'm a rule breaker.
AND IT WAS REMOVED. Within minutes, even. Gone. I had been silenced.
What's a girl to do? I lamented the problem on my own Facebook page with some of my friends.
But you know, if I did have a blog, I'd make sure Ian (and Bob) saw what was going to be my follow-up comment. It was pretty smart. I used lots of facts:
And I would make sure to send them both a link to the blog post, because that's the neighbourly thing to do, right? Share jam, free shit and blog posts? I think that's in the actual bylaws.
Alas, I have left the "friendly" community group I once belonged to. I'm sticking to the other one, where the administrators won't allow discriminatory posts to be shared.
Not long after my comment was deleted in the group I left, I was tagged in a post in the group I still belong to, where a bunch of people wanted to show support. The administrator made sure to tell me, "You know your family is loved and you need to feel safe. We've got ya!"
I did NOT start crying in the Extreme Pita when I read that. Nope. NOPE.
I really want to thank my neighbours, wholeheartedly, for sticking up for the LGBT community at a time when we were already deeply wounded. You did something important, and my family won't forget it.
I hope your act of advocacy will inspire folks in other neighbourhoods, where people are often afraid to say something. But as we know, using our voices to help those who are being discriminated against is an important part of being human. And it's an important part of helping families just like mine feel safe in the place they live. You can't put a price on that. Thank you.
I'm a proud suburban resident today.
Off to get a latte. In my yoga pants.