I was listening to an Outbeat Radio podcast called, "Coming out from Behind the Badge." This was a podcast about police officers both in and out of the closet, and they ended up talking about the negative side-effects of passing within the context of closeted officers. Because I feel that some of these issues do apply to passing privilege as experienced within this community, I went ahead and copied it down:
Quote:
|
Gay officers, because a majority of them are in the closet, become the target of harrassment unknowingly by the harrasser. Many officers, they're not out to their families, friends, coworkers - and for that fact, they're unseen. Because they're unseen, a person will make homophobic jokes, gay comments, not knowing that they're affecting their officers sitting at the table. There's been many examples of good officers leaving agencies just because they were afraid that they would not get back-up because of what they've heard in the locker room, or they've heard at the briefing table. The unseen officer is a problem. The officers - once they come out - some harrassment will discontinue. They will not be harrassed in that manner. But their fear of not getting back-up or being ostricized once they are out is a very real threat to their safety.
|
This is just one example of how passing is a mixed bag. The podcast did interview one female cop and one man who said he is effeminate and that it's always been assumed he was gay. The majority of the officers were masculine men who spent years in the closet, and people assumed they were straight based on their gender presentations. Although there are definitely differences between passing for a straight cisgender man and passing for a straight cisgender woman, I still think this is one of many examples illustrating the mixed bag of passing for straight.
Honestly these days, I'm sick of coming out of the closet. Every aquaintanceship or friendship I begin feels like a game of double-dutch. I'm trying to figure out exactly how and when and in what way to jump in there and say, "I'm a lesbian." If it's too soon, it's out of context. If it's too late, things start feeling dishonest because I know they are assuming I am straight. It's taxing. It doesn't feel like a privilege to feel like I either have to discuss my personal life and identity with people or have them interpret and speak to me me as a straight woman.
Also, as suggested in the quoted text, I don't think it's better to be exposed to homophobic remarks by people who assume I'm straight than to be the intentional target of homophobic language. If I had to choose one-for-one between the two, maybe being the direct target is worse in that it's more immediately threatening, but receiving these messages from people who assume I'm straight is more insidious, frequent and unnerving. I definitely begin to feel those messages are the true feelings of society, and overall that makes me feel less hopeful about humanity.