An Open Apology

I’m gay, but I’m also critical, curious, and scientifically oriented. Being gay isn’t the most important aspect of who I am. Yet, it is the aspect that elicits the most attention from those around me. I wouldn’t want my parents to pay any kind of special attention to me simply because of my orientation--even if that attention was “positive”. Being gay doesn’t make me any more or less of a decent human being; it is simply a preference. It doesn’t say anything about my intelligence, compassion, or values. All it says is that I have romantic interest in the same sex.

To drive the point home, I know many other gay people, and not one of them is the same. There are millions and millions of people in the LGB community, and the only thing that ties us all together is that we are not heterosexual. Each and every one of us has different needs and preferences, different personalities, different everything. It frustrates me to no end that many people will change their opinions about me (or any other person) simply for being gay. And that’s not just aimed to homophobes, but also to people who idealize being gay, who somehow think I’m cooler or more down to earth simply because of my sexual orientation. That’s even more frustrating sometimes, having my romantic preferences seen as some kind of trendy political statement.

What's perhaps more frustrating than anyone else's reactions to this issue, however, is the fact that I'm guilty of these same crimes. "I love gay people", "Gay best friend", and "Oh, yeah, the gay one" are all phrases that I've used in the past year. I've only now come to realize that these types of phrases only add to the small-minded attitudes and stereotypes that harm gay people every day. And for this I can only offer my deepest apologies and my reformation of self. 

I can't do much to change the past, but for now here's a list of gay stereotype breakers:

Not all gay people are the same.

Not all gay people are cool.

Gay people can be racists, sexists and, yes, even homophobes.

Gay males aren't all fabulous.

Gay males don't all have high-pitched voices.

Gay males aren't all sensitive and mild.

Gay females aren't all butch/alternative.

Gay females are not all good kissers/good in bed.

Not all gay people are flamboyant/in your face.

Not all gay people are promiscuous.

Not all gay people will have long-term relationships.

Not all gay people are atheists.

Not all gay people are open-minded. 

And there are so many, so many, oh so so many more. 

My goal right now is just to break the image of all LGBT people being the same/standing for the same thing. 

Even though sexual orientation is important, it says so little about people as actual human beings.

Why The World Is Wrong

why would anyone choose to be different.

it's all nice and fine to say 'oh well I love being different'.
but no one really does.

those bug eyed stares.
the snickers behind your back.
the amazement of seeing something so strange.

I hate being different.
everyday I look at what I see in the mirror and spew hate at it.
I hate everything that I am.
being different isn't good.
it's just another vice that someone can twist to warp you.

so yes.
I am different.

but I wish everyday that I wasn't.
but who would choose to be so different in a world that is so reactionary.
a world that refuses to move into the future.
I know I wouldn't.

this is the world I am forced to know.
we are all forced to know.
this xenophobic homophobic cainotophobic existance.
it isn't pretty.

is it wrong for me to want to be normal?
to be average?
maybe.
maybe not.

perhaps difference is synonymous with bravery.
that being different, or allowing ones self to be, is progressive.
beneficial for the future.

then again,
maybe being different is a curse.
and we're all designated for a fiery existance in the pits of hell.
or new york city.

is it worth it?
this constant ridicule, pain, hatred?

I don't think so.

but then again,
I have no choice in the matter.

An Ode to Levelheadedness

The President is a Muslim. 

It's 2076, and the President of the United States is Faisal Mahdi, and he is a Muslim. The Capitol hasn't sprung minarets and the Bible belt is still full of old people with Bibles and we aren't all fluent in Arabic, although it's a common option in schools alongside Spanish and French and Mandarin Chinese. It's just that the President is a Muslim.

There was one who was a black guy a while back, and some people were mad about that. And then there was one who was a woman, and half the country didn't take her seriously. Then there was an Asian guy, and only the truly out-of-it made jokes about Coca-Cola and pee-pee, or how they couldn't tell the president apart from somebody else. (Jay Leno did a couple of those, but nobody really listened to him because most of his fan base had died.) And then that Brazillian lady got elected, and so few were surprised when things all of a sudden started working again. And there were a few white guys in between that nobody really remembers. Now the President is a Muslim. 

Sometimes the media gets a photo release of the President and his two teenage daughters, one of whom has chosen to wear a hijab and one of whom has not. Sometimes meetings are interrupted for prayers. President Mahdi and his wife still have a Christmas tree in keeping with tradition, but they also have a Ramadan party every year that is out of this world. I've heard the White House chef makes fantastic hummus. There are old traditions and there are new traditions, because the President is a Muslim.

It's 2076. The President is a Muslim, and nobody really cares. 


--Patti

Wires

and there was his carcass.
limp.
lonely.
lifeless.
hanging in the twisted barbed wires.

sangre de cristo,
sangre de cristo.
I know what it means father,
but i'm not him.

cuts across his wrist.
forearms.
chest.
thighs.
abdomen.
back.
quadriceps.
everywhere.

his once brown hair now a shock of red.
blood was still creeping down his body towards his face.
upside down.
his eyes were open.
his shoes were on.
his clothes were torn.
his book was on the floor.
his book was in the blood.

forgive me father for I have sinned.
I have sinned and sinned and sinned.
forgive me.
don't let the devil take me.

the small triangular bristles along the wire were scarlet.
the concrete bathed in a pool of crimson.
the walls splattered with cerise.
his head a shade of carmine.

bad blood.
bad bad sinful blood.
deserved to be spilled.
he was the sin.
he took the blame.
he was the blame.
the book was a prop.
the clothes material banter.

If I pray, nothing bad can happen.
I'll be preserved.
I'll be sustained.
oh fuck just help me.

God's soldiers sent for him.
pushed him into the dragon's den.
knowing he'd be devoured.
even with the protection of His book.

so there he hung.
limp.
lonely.
lifeless.

stuck.
lost in translation.
stuck in purgatory.
or was it hell.
or was it heaven.
did it matter.
he was dead.
the blood of a christ was spilled.

I'm not ready yet.

--mark