Tuesday, August 14, 2007

THE GAYS

I came out to my class. This is maybe the first time I've done this (there maybe was one other time?) but certainly the first time I've been crystal-clear to the class that yes, I'm A GAY.

(The class is on imperialism, so maybe you are thinking, how did this happen? Was it like the world's most helpful accused witches?) It happened like this.

We were reading this anti-immigration piece by Margaret Thatcher where she says that immigration and 'the growth of the permissive society' or something both threaten Britain. (Oh no!)

Student: What's she mean by the permissive society?
Me: Class, what's she mean?
People in class: Loosening morals, etc.
Me: That's right! She means THE GAYS.
(People in class look confused.)
Me: (Hopping around happily) THE GAYS, that's what she's talking about. She's like, 'Oh no, watch out, spooky immigrants and GAYS!'
Me: (Spooky hand motions)
Student: What? 'The gaze"?

(We talk a lot in class about 'the European gaze.')

Me: (Merrily writing it in huge letters on the board) No, not 'the gaze', THE GAYS.
Me: (Circling 'THE GAYS' on the board)
Me: (Realizing that I've got to tell them I'm a lezzie or they'll think I'm gay bashing) I call it this because I'm one of them. I'm A GAY!
Me: (Realizing that this is super funny to me and my buddies, but my poor dear students are lost, lonely and turning bright red.)
Me: I can call it this because I'm one of them. You don't have to. You can call it gays, lesbians, bisexuals, trans folks, etc. Or queer.

Then we had a big discussion about what "queer" means, how it offends some people, and whether to use it.

Anyway, well, my excuse for not coming out to my classes is that it never comes up, and I don't like to talk about my personal life. But today it came up. Not that they were surprised, I hope.

9 comments:

Could-be-a-model said...

In my mind, the way this class discussion unfolded is exactly like in the Numa Numa video. You are dancing around the class, singing, "I am the gay! You are the gay!" and then the Village People pop out of the closet and join in the revelry.

Anonymous said...

I think my students sense I'm gay. When we were discussing ACT UP, I somehow knew all the chants. "We're here, we're queer, we're not going shopping!"

Vgirl said...

At least you're not the only gay in the village: http://youtube.com/watch?v=0qWxvGyibUk

your small american said...

Yes, I thought of the Numa Numa video. I love that video.

I also think your students think you are gay, but as CC pointed out to me, we may be over-estimating their ability to tell that someone has THE GAY. Remember when you were an undergrad and couldn't decide if your totally butch women's studies prof had THE GAY? (Or was that just me?)

Could-be-a-model said...

That's a totally astute point about not knowing as an undergrad if one of your profs was gay. For sure, I could tell that the butch profs in the WMST department were gay, but I was totally thrown off by my Italian teacher. I just thought he was European. When one of my classmates told me how she had met his boyfriend, I was shocked. Her response: "Didn't the pink sweater vests give it away?".

Tom said...

I feel that that picture really captures the essence of THE GAY! I can see why Margaret Thatcher would be wary of letting those people in.

I remember I took a fantastic course in 19th Century Philosophy at Barnard and Laurie would occasionally audit the class. Why? Not because she had a particular love for Nietzche, no! Because the professor had THE HOT HOT HOT GAY! vibe going.

Though, I think it turned out that she was not gay. Also, Columbia denied her tenure. Why? Because they're assholes!

your small american said...

Oh man, she was dreamy, that philosophy prof. Aside from that, her and other women nominated for tenure by Barnard getting denied it by Columbia (Columbia reviewed Barnard's tenure appointments) was something that soured me on Columbia. Now one of the things I do online to procrastinate (besides this) is go to wikipedia and edit in facts about Columbia, such as they didn't admit women to the college till 1983, that mysteriously aren't in the (administration-written) Columbia entry.

Speaking of which, I am now hot on the trail of Princeton-involved mysteries--does anyone know where the eating clubs are? My Dad is advising me on how to infiltrate them. He has a whole theory.

Could-be-a-model said...

I have a tenuous connection to a Princeton undergrad. Let me know if you want spies.

keebler nelf said...

the eating clubs are all on prospect ave ("the street") off washington road! they are very mysterious! actually, they're really not that mysterious. if you just pick up the beer stench emanating from the center of town you can usually follow it straight to the eating clubs and down into their stinky taprooms.