Reflection: Not Just an Act

Societal norms dictate that men should be strong and rugged, while women are expected to be emotional and mild-mannered. Boys are given toy cars and trucks to play with, while girls are taught to collect dolls and host tea parties. As a child, I had a feeling these norms did not apply to my natural inclinations so seamlessly since I was a boy who was often told by those around me that I acted “like a girl.” It would take me several years to look beyond these assumed norms and come to terms with the fact that I am gay.

As a child, I played with my sister’s Barbie dolls and showed no interest in sports. My mother’s lipstick and high heels intrigued me. At times, this was met with disappointment from my father who would discipline me if he caught me acting “like a girl.” Eventually, I identified acting “like a girl” as something that would get me in trouble, so I tried my best to suppress my effeminate mannerisms around him. In school, I knew that people perceived me as different from other boys: I was smart and nerdy unlike the others; I shared more common interests with girls. I did not necessarily realize I was gay, but I knew I was different. Finally one day in middle school, I heard the word “gay” used for the first time by others to describe me. This resulted in some lost friendships, as many of my friends did not want to face ridicule for being friends with someone who people thought was gay. This was a critical incident that shaped my awareness of this identity. I started to realize that perhaps I didn’t just act “like a girl,” but that I might in fact be gay. All the information I had been given up until this point about being gay was negative, and there was no one for me to talk to – certainly not my family and friends.

Prayer was something I turned to. I was raised in a strict Catholic household and joined a religious youth group in my early teenage years. Throughout high school, much of my weekends were spent preaching scripture and leading other youth in worship. However, I squirmed in my seat whenever the topic of homosexuality came up in church, thinking at the time that I was impure and a sinner. As I prepared for college, I slowly started to feel disconnected with the church, and was wrestling with my identity as someone who was both gay and a Catholic.

I came out to my friends after high school, knowing that I would be going away for college and would be starting with a clean slate where I could authentically live my truth. Contrary to what I had experienced in middle school, I was met with love and support. I was not yet ready to come out to my family, and it would take me four more years to do so.

The struggle to tell my family was, in large part, due to us being Asian Americans, specifically Filipino-Americans. Philippine culture is one that values tradition, family, and order. Being gay challenged what my parents had envisioned for me in terms of starting a family, especially as their first-born son. Because we were immigrants, I feared that my parents would see this as being disrespectful of the sacrifices they endured to move to America and provide their children with a better future. Moreover, I wanted to spare my family from the backlash of being shamed by relatives, friends, and the religious community. This racial and ethnic identity indeed intersects with my homosexuality. According to Kumashiro (2000), “Just as Afrocentric discourses have defined “Black” as “straight,” so too have notions of “traditional Asian values” defined “real” or “authentic” Asian Americans as straight. Many believe that being a real Asian requires familial performances of heterosexuality” (p. 12).

My unfavorable experiences coming to terms with being gay can be explained by the “Cycle of Socialization” (Harro, 1982). The Beginning, First Socialization, Institutional and Cultural Socialization, and Enforcements (the expectation to be like other boys, the negative perceptions that others have about gay people as influenced by their environments, the church’s stance on homosexuality, the heteronormativity that permeates Asian and Filipino culture) all contributed to results that made me feel oppressed and ashamed about being gay. While these results more often align with being a targeted individual, I acknowledge that being gay also allows me to experience certain privileges.

The most common examples of how I am targeted as a gay man lie in the context of civil liberties. There are many who oppose my right to marry another man; I am unable to donate blood; there are stringent legal barriers in my access to things like healthcare, housing, and child adoption rights. Queer folks are often the target of hate speech and physical assault. There continues to be a lack of diversity in the way gay males are portrayed in media. Often depicted as flamboyant, animated, promiscuous, and victims of sexual abuse, gay males have always had to both fight against and take ownership of the stereotype that the status quo has ascribed to them. On the other hand, gay males are often perceived as physically unthreatening, cultured and sophisticated. As a result, most women feel less threatened by gay men than straight men in social settings, and gay men’s opinions are highly respected when it comes to arenas such as fashion, advertising, design, and performing arts.

This reflection has pushed me to think about how my own views on being gay have evolved from confusion and shame to acceptance and actualization; it has served as a reminder that being gay is not defined by acting like a boy nor a girl because the truth of the matter is that no acting is involved at all in being gay.

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Kumashiro, K. (2000). Queer students of color and antiracist, antiheterosexisteducation: Paradoxes of identity and activism (p.1-20).

Harro, B. (1982). The Cycle of Socialization. In Readings for Diversity and Social Justice (3rd

ed., pp. 45-52).