Friends of Dorothy (whatever the hell that means)

So, I don't really have enough energy to go into a whole discussion of this right now, but being gay in San Francisco of all places isn't necessarily as easy as one might think it is. Sure there's a huge population of like-minded folks, and most of the straight people don't give a fig, so it stands to reason that you should be able to just be yourself and be accepted. But alas. There are all these interesting socio-cultural politics I sometimes find frustratingly unnavigable.

I just came from an odd little gay happy hour after work organized by a coworker for all of us at the office who bat for the other team. And what I found fascinating is that just being a gay or lesbian isn't enough of a common bond to create instant community. It's basically the only thing I had in common with some of these people. And there are only so many Coming Out stories I can take in one sitting. Yet the expectation is there that we should all be best friends. And I think that that presumption underlies much of the gay community.

I understand the need to belong, and that a whole culture has developed to accommodate that need makes sense to me. Unfortunately, it's often the case that if you don't fit into the new imposed cultural mold, you're still ostracized. I know who I am, and I'm pretty comfortable with that... so it's just a little annoying that if I'm not going to fit in with all you straight people, I can't exactly relate with the prevailing queer world either. I feel like I'm often judged for not fitting the stereotype; as if just because I don't like Liza or Babs, hate shopping, or am a little freaked out by the Tranny Shack I've somehow failed as gay, am still afraid to embrace who I truly am, or am transferring my self loathing onto them. It's silly. I can't fathom why, when faced with so much intolerance from the outside, inside our little bubble there's still prejudice and exclusion. The very people who march against imposed worldviews expect you to then fit into their own.

I'm generalizing here of course - not all homos are like that. And that's my whole point. Sitting at the bar this evening, looking at my fellow gay coworkers struggling to come up with things to talk about, I had to marvel. With such a wonderfully odd assortment, you'd think we'd all be a little better at celebrating our diversity.