There are two women sitting near me in the cafe. They are bemoaning that there is no community of queer women of color in this town. I'm shrinking behind my laptop. Physical heart ache leaping up while my eyelids drop lower. I surmise they've just met. They are pledging support to one another. They are finding comfort in each other's brown eyes. I feel whiney, inadequate, suddenly too large: an off-white elephant in the corner. What would I give to look brown enough or gay enough to be noticed?
Nothing! I've always screamed. And nothing, now, I repeat with bitter breath. I will not change my looks for race or sex. I will not dye my hair black or shave it into a faux-hawk. I will not wear beads and feathers, nor will I wear rainbows. My ethnic and sexual allegiances won't be worn on pins. So why do I feel like shit?
Oddly enough, I will shrink. This is one thing I can do. If not noticed, at least I can be consciously unnoticed.
i definitely hear you on this (the sexual thing - i'm white). because i wear dresses and have long hair means i MUST be straight. no matter where you go there's a stereotype waiting to confront you. blech.
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