Originally appeared Oct. 20, 1999, in the Chicago Free Press.
NOW THAT THE LAST National Coming Out Day of the 1990s has come and gone, let us reflect for a moment on a phenomenon that happens twice a year-on October 11 and every Pride.
I will call it Queer Dominance Syndrome (QDS).
During the rest of the year, gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders live our common lives. We come out in large and small ways - yes, we are constantly coming out - but we come out and we fall in love and we basically continue on being a lot like people everywhere. Being lesbian, gay, transgender or bisexual might be a central part of our existence, but it is only one part. We are also musicians, academics, ball players, janitors, students, housewives, store clerks. We are ordinary.
QDS changes all that, especially on college campuses.
On QDS days, everyone who is gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender is instantaneously queer. We are invited to become radicals. Suddenly, those of us who aren't shy about our sexuality, but who don't advertise it, either, are exhorted to march, wear ribbons, kiss a same-sex person in a high-traffic public area. That is, be someone who you aren't usually. Just to make a point.
(And what that point may be is not clear. GLBTs are more sexual than straight people? We create more explicit signs? We party harder? That we exist is certainly no longer up for debate.)
Unfortunately, those who are more comfortable with these ways of expressing sexual orientation often receive more attention (notoriety?) than those who don't.
Which makes sense, since those who possess a queer sensibility tend to co-opt the movement on QDS days. They prance naked through city streets. They deface property. They are outrageous, rebellious and insensitive. They decide that coming out is ultimately a political act, not a personal one.
Take, for example, what happened on Harvard University's campus this past National Coming Out Day.
Students in Harvard's Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian, Transgender and Supporter's Alliance wallpapered Harvard Yard with signs saying things like, "I praise the good Lord with my wet, quivering clitoris" and "Have more sex. Join BGLTSA." There were signs portraying lesbian sex that read, "We don't enjoy cock at all."
Offended members of BGLTSA responded by posting flyers advocating for a new gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender group. These read: "I don't like the BGLTSA posters. Is there a group I can join with different values?"
Hooray.
The response, I believe, was exactly right.
Those of us who are anti-QDS are not necessarily assimilationist, conservative, or interested in renouncing GLBT identities or freedoms. I stand with columnist Amy Pagnozzi when she says, "Gay rights, civil rights, women's rights, it doesn't matter what issue you pick, the truth is, movements don't get very far if there aren't a fair number of hotheads to goose them along."
But at this point in our movement - and especially on college campuses - we need to ask ourselves: What does it accomplish when we are offensive? Whom are we winning?
More importantly - whom are we losing?
Recently, a new friend told me about the one time those in our community had made her uncomfortable. She was in college and, on National Coming Out Day, needed to go by the kiss-in gauntlet to get to class.
We all have a different tolerance level for public displays of affection, but this wasn't just kissing. It was groping, making out, practically having sex on the sidewalk. It made her angry, she said. She didn't know what this was proving.
It would have made me angry, too, and it does make me angry when I come across it. Kiss-ins aren't expressing love for a partner - they're expressing anger at society for not accepting all sexual orientations. But all that energy could be put to better use by lobbying for employment rights for GLBTs, or asking an employer to supply domestic partnership benefits.
Yet I've found that the people who make the most noise on QDS days are often the least likely to commit to making a real difference. Do I think we should silence those who want to be in our faces about their sexuality? No, of course not. But we can't let the straight world - or our closeted friends - -think that you have to be out there to be out.
There are other ways. Support groups for less outrageous members of the GLBT community is one solution, especially on college campuses, when the choice is often, "Be radical, or be closeted."
"Be-ins" is another answer. Some colleges have started replacing kiss-ins by these "homosexual acts," which often include such radical activity as reading a book, typing a paper, playing with a dog, etc.
The majority of GLBTs aren't queer. We are people who happen to be gay or lesbian, bisexual or transgender. But we have been lax about making our presence felt. We allow those with more radical sensibilities to take center stage.
We need to go back and mentor college students, helping them to understand that the GLBT universe is a much more diverse place than they know. We need to show up at rallies and put a rainbow sticker on our computer if we're not comfortable wearing one on our person. We must speak up on our issues, we must vote, we must write letters and make phone calls. We must remember to never, ever deny our sexual orientations unless we are in physical danger.
So, yes, if you didn't come out on National Coming Out Day, come out now. But do it in a way you're comfortable with, a way that deepens an understanding of who you are. In the end, that is the most radical act.