It’s a bad month to be a homophobe
Simply stated, the people who object to Pride Month are often the same people who have made Pride Month a necessity. They are also often the same people who will wrap themselves in an American flag and tout the virtues of freedom, while wanting to oppress the rights of others; or the same people who
For example, I attended a private Christmas Party at a restaurant last winter, and a woman approached me at the bar, wanting to talk to me about my latest book of poetry, which my wife had wrapped and entered into the Yankee Swap.
“I was hoping to get your book,” the woman said to me. “I enjoy reading poetry and I had no idea that you wrote it.”
“I don’t really talk about it much,” I said. “My wife wrapped the book, thinking it would be funny. She thought whoever opened it—”
“Wait a second. Did you say your wife?” The woman asked, incredulous. “You mean, you’re straight?”
“The last time I checked,” I said then thought about the layers of stereotypes that need to exist in order to draw a conclusion about a stranger’s sexual orientation.
But it isn’t uncommon. Many of us fill in our own scenarios about peoples’ lives as a type of parlor game where we try to guess what strangers across a room are discussing, imagining the details of their lives.
And I get why some people might guess that I’m gay. I don’t necessarily possess or espouse the characteristics of the stereotypical straight American male, which are bastardized from the paradigm of the American cowboy—strong, stoic, reticent.
For starters, I read and write poetry. That, alone, is a red flag for many folks. And I’m not particularly aggressive, and I’m almost always nonviolent. I believe in equal rights for every person—regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation—and I don’t own a gun or a pick-up truck.
And I’m certainly not voting for the convicted felon.
While I don’t really care, one way or another, if someone wrongfully assumes that I’m gay, I also understand that it is easier for me to laugh it off because I’m not. I have never had to experience the prejudice, hate or intolerance that members of the LGBTQ+ community have long battled in this country.
June is Pride Month, which was first federally recognized in 1999 by Bill Clinton as “Gay and Lesbian Pride Month,” which commemorated the anniversary of the Stonewall Riots on June 28, 1969. Barack Obama then expanded the definition in 2011 to include the entire LGBTQ+ community.
In 2017, Donald Trump refused to continue federal recognition (although he did tweet an acknowledgement of Pride Month in 2019), but Joe Biden then reinstated it in 2021.
More importantly, June honors the fight for equality and the gains made by the entire gay community while simultaneously giving bigots and homophobes a month full of fits.
For the life of me, I will never understand why people concern themselves with other people’s decisions when it comes to matters of the heart. Why does anyone care who another person sleeps beside, as long as that other person is legally capable of consent?
Why does it matter if the LGBTQ+ community has public celebrations or parades? Are we not all protected by the First Amendment? Can’t every community have a parade as long as the legal permits are in place?
Simply stated, the people who object to Pride Month are often the same people who have made Pride Month a necessity. They are also often the same people who will wrap themselves in an American flag and tout the virtues of freedom, while wanting to oppress the rights of others; or the same people who grab their Bibles and claim to be walking in the shadow Jesus, while practicing prejudice and intolerance.
I certainly stand, and will continue to stand, with my family and friends in the LGBTQ+ community—and not just in June.
You can reach Nathan Graziano at ngrazio5@yahoo.com
