Alone and Unobserved

The display across from the circulation desk at the Sweet Branch Library is currently filled with books about and for men, presumably in honor of Father’s Day. For the first two weeks of June, the display was packed, with only a few of the more attractive selections set out on little easels, and the rest spine-out between bookends. It was not very inviting, at least from my perspective, which is why I was happy when the associate librarian in charge of such things took eighty percent of the books off the display and brought in ten more easels for the remaining ones. When I asked her about the change, she said that it was in response to something she had read about men and their visual style–it turns out men are attracted to displays that are at eye level and are visually appealing. I didn’t ask what the research said about women, but I suppose the implication is that they prefer their books to be both ugly and out of reach.

Men are different from women, and, as I’ve been reminded by a book I plucked from that display, boys are different from girls: they play differently, act differently, talk differently, and misbehave far more often in school. The book, Speaking of Boys by Michael Thompson, Ph.D., is a question-and-answer session edited together from common questions that parents and educators (mostly female) have about boys, and Thompson’s responses and explanations. (Very enjoyable. I recommend it to anyone who has ever known or been a little boy, or known someone who was one once.) Not surprisingly, the questions that initially prompted me to take the book home are headlined “Three-Year-Old Cross-Dresser at Preschool,” “Eighth-Grade Boy’s Behavior Makes Parents Wonder: Is He Gay?” and “Attractive College Athlete: Lonely or Gay?” What did surprise me is how much of myself I saw in the other sections of the book as well. I guess gayboys were boys at one time too, even if they were cross-dressing and playing with the girls.

One thing I believe sets my own boyhood apart from those of my straight male friends even more than the subversion of gender stereotypes is that they had an abundance of role models, good and bad, and I had none. Or rather, I had role models, but they all were straight and told me I should be straight. I didn’t see this as a negative back then, but I definitely do now, and I’m feeling the effects of it in a rather unexpected way. You see, Hollywood doesn’t include a gay character in a movie unless his or her sexuality is important to the plot in some way*–usually a negative or ambiguous way, as it turns out. So here I am, a gay male who is still forming his own identity, watching a movie that has a gay male in it: I immediately identify with that character because of his sexuality and (in many cases) because the attractive, straight actor is doing a terrific job of passing for a conflicted homosexual, and I recognize myself in his internal conflicts, and wish I were as attractive. And then that gay character turns out to be a homicidal sociopath!! or a remorseless marriage-wrecker!! or just a jerk. Or all of the above!!! And I am crushed and disturbed for days and never watch that movie again, even though I may have enjoyed it immensely for other reasons.

What the gay community needs right now is more positive role models. I already know gay men who are jerks; what I need is to have the hope of being a normal, well-adjusted, happily partnered, grown-up gayboy someday. And it is Hollywood’s job to give me that hope.

*Independent cinema breaks this rule, but independent films don’t have wide circulation for this and many other reasons. Independent gay cinema has an even more egregious rule: the main characters must be gay, the straight characters must be uninteresting and flat, and the acting must be uniformly abysmal. (Return)