Eyes Wide Shut OR Stereotypes, Identity Fraud

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

It took me years to shrug off the worst stereotypes (still) perpetuated by the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority.

One day, a straight friend accompanied me to a gay bar because he ‘wanted to understand gay people’. Later, I asked him what he had learned. He shook his head and replied,’ What can I learn from a bunch of clones?’

I was angry and upset, but began to wonder if I wasn’t replacing one set of stereotypes with another…?

Whatever the rights and wrongs of the argument, I began to realize that I was not (as I’d thought) reasserting my personal identity, but going along with a social identity that threatened to take away the personal freedom I had longed for after years of growing up in a gay-unfriendly environment. Sexual expression is only a part of who we are, and I was risking the rest of me.

Now, I am not knocking the Gay Scene; it gave me some good times, none of which I regret. At the same time, it was a learning curve for me, and in the end I turned my back on it. I am a gay man, yes, but I do not need to make a public statement about it; I am just an everyday Joe who also happens to be gay and people (gay and straight alike, whatever their socio-cultural-religious persuasion) are as free to accept me or reject me as I am free to accept or reject them.

Life is about being who not what we are. We cannot expect everyone to accept or even like us any more than anyone can or should expect others to accept or even like them simply because of what or whom they represent. We can, though, respect others for who and what they are and for whom and what they represent.

Well, can’t we?

EYES WIDE SHUT or STEREOTYPES, IDENTITY FRAUD

I met a (very) ugly man

in a trendy gay bar, and confess

I wondered what on earth

he thought he was doing there,

but we got chatting,

and after a while I realised

he had a lovely smile,

his voice (a dreamy lilt)

returning me to days long before

I lost faith in love songs

He offered a firm hand

and told me his name, his touch

sending electric shocks

through me as (shyly) I gave mine;

his conversation was fun,

no dull small talk or the usual

chat-up lines although…

he grinned (winking) as he asked

if I’d care to come back to his place

for a coffee, or whatever

Later, sex as pure art form

filling my sad self with a passion

I’d never known before,

this ugly-beautiful man I met

in a trendy gay bar,

sense and sensibility colluding

with feisty frog-princes,

re-working happy endings,

and reminding me why I so missed

listening to love songs

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2014

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]