Being Anti-Homophobic
© Next Gen Men 2020
By Jonathon Reed
I wear a pink watch on purpose.
It challenges the stereotypical binary—if a guy can wear pink, then maybe we can also be gentle, and relational, and emotionally connected. I’ve worn a pink watch off-and-on for almost a decade.
Last year I started shying away from it. I facilitated a Next Gen Men group at a local public school that started out with a smaller group than usual. After a couple of weeks, I found out that one of the more socially powerful eight-graders had judged me for my pink watch and started spreading the rumour that joining Next Gen Men would make you gay.
So the first learning was to appear more stereotypical when pitching the program, and start challenging the binary only once I had started forming relationships with the participants. I figured I was trying to protect the boys who wanted to join the program but didn’t want to face homophobic bullying. When I look back on it now, I wonder if I was trying to protect myself.
I started thinking about this last week when multiple people reached out to ask if NGM Boys Club was supportive of gay and trans youth. One of them was a youth facilitator who was willing to share their perspective on the way we talk about inclusion.
“Sometimes people don't use specific language because they are concerned it will dissuade the majority and perhaps cause unwanted critique,” they wrote. “Unfortunately, then we don't get to have those difficult conversations that really highlight what the values are that we are trying to teach the youth.”
It really got me thinking. Was me minimizing the queerness of my gender expression while pitching the youth program any different from a young teenager adding the disclaimer ‘no homo’ while talking about his feelings? What was I role modelling by withholding part of myself? I felt like a hypocrite.
As masculinities researcher Michael Kehler wrote, “The fear of being named or positioned as ‘gay’ is linked to the uncertainties boys have about ‘doing’ boy in appropriately masculine ways.”
“Understandably, then, many high school young men are not willing to publicly admit their vulnerabilities, weaknesses, fears, and anxieties, but this should not overshadow the clear and unequivocal message that young men do have them and yearn to share them. The difficulty, it appears, is in finding a context in schools that is safe and valuing of alternative versions of masculinities.”
My job is not to protect myself from unwanted critique. My job is to provide a space that is safe, supportive and open to boys being themselves. I have to role model that.
So the second learning is that I wonder what it would look like to pitch the program to a group of boys—wearing Nike shoes, black earrings and a pink watch on top of my tattoo sleeve—and say: “This is a safe space for LGBTQ+ youth, period. And if your response to that is that you want to be defensive and not participate, or make fun of someone who does, then you should really think about participating. Because the intersection of strength and kindness is an important place for the kind of man you want to be.”
Read more: Look up Michael Kehler’s article “Hallway Fears and High School Friendships” in Discourse: Studies in the cultural politics of education.
Written by Next Gen Men Program Manager Jonathon Reed as part of Learnings & Unlearnings, a weekly newsletter reflecting on our experiences working with boys and young men. Subscribe to get Learnings & Unlearnings delivered to your email inbox.