Queercott: Marriage Alliance

Okay.

Australians, this one is for you, but if you’re not Australian and you want to help out by reposting/linking, please, be my guest.

Marriage Alliance’s campaign of hate has spread to radio advertisements on 3AW. Now I can’t even sit in my room while my parents have a shower and listen to the radio at ridiculously high volume without hearing arseholes claim that granting me a basic human right and the protections that come with it means the loss of heterosexual families’ rights, freedoms and privileges.

A million writers and activists have said why this is stupid. (There’s some really good iceberg adaptions over on Same Same.) Quite frankly, any decent human being should realise why this is stupid, since the only thing everyone will lose is a safer, more accepting society. I can accept that the only people who are swayed by these ads are those who are homophobic or those who are ignorant. These kinds of campaigns never worked overseas to prevent the legalisation of marriage equality (in fact they were always the subject of mockery and scorn on shows like Gruen Planet) and they’re not likely to work here.

But.

We shouldn’t have to sit here and listen to that bullshit.

Look at it this way: I almost never watch TV or listen to the radio, and yet in the last two days, in about an hour’s worth of TV and radio total, I’ve been subjected to homophobic discourse three times.

Our spineless government has allowed this, but, quite frankly, the channels airing these adverts propaganda pieces – as far as I know here in Victoria, 3AW and Channel 9 – should be taking some responsibility, too. These companies are, by airing these advertisements propaganda pieces, promoting hate directed at a vulnerable section of society. They are saying, at the very least, that they are indifferent to the fact that these messages are contributing towards the ongoing state of Australian society where (cis) queer people aren’t wholly considered to be human. They are saying that it’s okay to promote and distribute hateful messages propaganda pieces. They are saying that the comfort and acceptance of (cis) queer people doesn’t matter. They are saying this to queers, to the families of queers, to the friends of queers, to the majority of people in Australia who have some connection with a queer person: you and/or your loved ones don’t deserve equality.

Now, it’s apparently quite legal for this hateful bullshit to be aired.

But we can turn off the channel.

We can stop giving these channels the thing they most desire: an audience.

Stop watching Channel 9. Stop watching Channel 9’s subsidiaries. Don’t watch them on your TV; don’t use their streaming or catch-up services. Don’t go to their websites. Don’t read their news articles. Don’t engage in their media. We can stop listening to 3AW (although I’d rather have pulled my own teeth out than listen before they started airing arsehole ads), but, better, we can stop engaging in any media owned by Fairfax.

(And if you know of any other arsehole radio stations/TV stations/newspapers/magazines running this propagandist bullshit in Australia, comment and I’ll add them to the list.)

I am asking you, Australians, as queers, friends of queers, families of queers and readers of queer writers, to make these companies regret the money they have gained for promoting the denial of my equal rights and my improved safety. I am asking you to do more than just sigh and complain and write pissed-off blog posts and hit ‘like’ or ‘reblog’.

What do we watch, then?

Well, SBS and Channel Ten are registered with Australian Marriage Equality, so there’s a start. Or how about Joy 94.9? Download the TV episode you missed from iTunes. There’s plenty of ways you can keep up with your favourite media without giving companies who think it’s appropriate to promote homophobia (and denying queer people marriage equality is homophobia) financial recompense for the act of hurting a vulnerable section of Australian society.

Please, if you care about me, join me in my queercott.

(And, yes, rage apparently is what I need to press my anxiety over posting into a tiny cowering knot thoroughly drowned-out by fury.)

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Marriage equality, you ask?

So I’m sitting on the couch watching morning TV because I’m sick as, and then a blue sketch image, vaguely resembling ice, flashes up on screen. I can make out the words “sex” and “marriage”, but not until the presenter starts talking do I understand that the scribble on the tip of the iceberg is “same”. Oh, wow, clever metaphor. Who knows what hell lurks underneath, right? Three minutes later, I get a second advertisement, because it’s not enough that I’m reminded once that I’m a secret danger to the fabric of society, no: I have to endure it again.

Great. I already risk homophobia when I step outside the house, go online, watch a TV show or open a book – now I have to get it in the advertisements as well? What happened to government-sponsored political spots about workers’ rights and attempts to flog toothpaste and muesli bars?

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A return to the world of monsters

(As a prologue, this post goes out to the people of my ACT – Acceptance and Commitment Therapy – group, for their encouragement when I spoke about my blog and the fears that have kept me from writing. Also to Julia Kyle, who just doesn’t give up on me. Thank you for making me feel as though I can, maybe, re-become my warrior-writer self.)

I wish I didn’t have to begin with this literal title.

I wish it with all my heart.

At first … at first I thought it would be okay, moving back to my parents’ place. It would only be for six months or so; I’ve got a room at a mate’s place, back in my beloved Melbourne, as soon as his sister moves out. It would give me time to recover from how severe my anxiety and depression have gotten, living in a space where I have to worry less about the basic struggles of just looking after myself. It would give me time to worry less about money, at least in theory, and work on finding a second job so I can support myself with fewer stresses. It would only be for six months. Endurable, right?

Oh, the lies we tell ourselves when we have no other option!

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Queering words: a field guide (part 1)

Nothing in these posts is in any way new.

However, I’ve had a few interactions with well-intended cishet allies who have missed the finer details on queer, trans and non-binary language terms and their use, so these words aren’t being said loudly enough to penetrate even those who are open to hearing us. Also, as a queer, non-binary person with editing experience, there may be something I can bring to the dialogue, I hope, that explains why we use our words the way we do.

For once, I’m speaking directly to allies on this post. Most of the time you’re incidental to the dialogue, or I’m talking about you, not to you: I’m talking ‘to you’ in the same kind of rhetorical, laden-with-frustration way I go about much of my dialogue about my experiences. However, I seem to have amassed a collection of cishet ally readers, so this one is for you, because my words matter and because I believe – or hope – my words matter to you.

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Do explain, my allies, but not to me

I’m going to tell a story every minority has experienced at some point, an example of one thing that sours what could have otherwise been a good conversation in a fairly safe environment. Now, those who know me in real life, don’t get me wrong: the environments I am currently in are about the safest I’ve ever been in as an out queer who doesn’t do binary gender. I’m incredibly grateful to be in rooms full of outspoken left-wing small-L liberals where I can say what I think and feel with very little negative consequence, and as someone who is both anxious and outspoken (believe me, that combination is insane-making at times) it goes a long way to making me feel comfortable in a world where I think twice about just sending people my new email address or linking people to my blog.

I explained to a group of people why I have problems with ‘same-sex marriage’ as a phrase and the use of said phrase in mainstream publications.

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Call to arms, my dear creatives

A friend this weekend paid me the second-highest compliment a writer can receive when she told me my writing isn’t generic. This is incredibly flattering, but it’s also an interesting counterpoint to my fears that I am, in fact, everything but.

(The highest compliment is when people tell you that they’re engrossed in your words despite the fact you fucked up will/would in present tense all the way through a 140 000 word novel. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t mean anything. ‘I kept reading’ is what I strive for. If a reader can forgive me my faults and flaws, place their trust in me that their investment in my words is worth their time, and follow me to the end, I have done what I need to do. This shouldn’t stop me from seeking to improve, and it won’t silence my anxiety, that grand and notorious speaker of bullshit, but it is enough. If a reader takes my hand and comes with me on my journey, it is enough.)

Likewise, J P Kyle used my latest post as a jumping off point for her important thoughts on guilty pleasures, rape culture and romance in literature, particularly romance/YA, and when your words inspire someone to write, especially something else meaningful, I don’t think there can be anything more flattering or profound.

I think this is an entirely selfish reason for embarking on vulnerability in creativity, by the by, and why creatives need to get used to throwing caution to the wind in the frightening quest to be real. It’s not that one’s work is inevitably better (although it is): it’s the impact on others and the feedback one gets as a result of that impact. Sure, vulnerability in creativity doesn’t mean one will get more readers, more likes, more hits. In fact, depending on about a million factors, that may not be true at all. Talent isn’t an indicator of numerical success. The feedback one does get, though, tends to be special. We get to see that, in our words, we have had some effect on the hearts and minds of one other person. We can promote change, provoke, educate, help, comfort, inspire. We can make profound and incredible art, if only we step up and take a risk on our own honesty, and people tell us it matters.

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