What Pride Month Means to Me

I have been struggling with what to say in honor of Pride Month. On the one hand, I am not lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, or any other demographic that falls under the rainbow banner, and I have no right to speak for those people. What I can do is speak to why they have my unconditional love and support.

I know many people who face daily challenges of a magnitude inconceivable to those of us fortunate enough to be cis, straight, and otherwise conventional in identity and lifestyle. I have not always been sensitive to their plight. In my younger days I know I hit on women who were lesbian, probably more of them than I realized. I am grateful to those who admitted their preference, especially given the courage it took when you were in legitimate fear for your life from strangers. Sadly, this is still too often the case.

I am still learning the new vocabulary of our changing times, but I accept the challenge. It is the least I can do to be better informed, and become more empathetic. Too many people try and ride the fence when it comes to others who do not share their reality. “I don’t think it is any of my business” they say, believing that is somehow a comforting and acceptable response to learning of diversity in identity and lifestyle. It is not. It is condescending.

In no way are any of the rights and personal freedoms I enjoy eroded or compromised by extending those same rights to marginalized peoples. Let me say that again, louder, for those in the back: Extending to others the same freedoms and rights that I enjoy as a white, cis, straight male, in no way deprives me of those rights. Please repeat that to yourself at will until you recognize it as truth. Thank you.

It is appalling and embarrassing to me that so many citizens are apparently convinced that the whole topic of transgender can be boiled down to “men wanting to play women’s sports.” Have you seen how we treat women? Do you honestly believe that any “man” would want to heap upon himself the restrictions, discomfort, and vulnerabilities endured by women, plus the hatred shown to transgendered persons, simply for the opportunity to “dominate” in athletics? Seriously? I know this is not the case because nearly every man I know will go to extraordinary lengths to avoid social ridicule, persecution, and emotional pain.

What I desire more than anything is for those who are consumed with affirming, defending, and protecting their identities, to have the freedom to do the things they were born to do, to achieve greatness without the needless social and political barriers and hostilities they currently face. If there are any rights that should be taken from people of privilege it is the right to hate speech, the right to politicize lives you know nothing about, and the right to deny anyone else the freedoms you already enjoy.

What does an ally look like, you ask? Openly proclaiming your allegiance is a good start. Putting your money where your mouth is helps even more. Ever heard of The Trevor Project? There are countless other charities, legal defense funds, and other affirming organizations that can use your financial donations. Use your social media to follow those individuals and organizations that are effective advocates and educators. Unfollow, unfriend, or block anyone who reveals themselves to be anything but an ally.

If you found this post uncomfortable, but read it through anyway, you have my sincere appreciation. You’ve taken a step towards something good. I guarantee that your life will be enriched beyond measure by getting to know others living different lives, with different identities. That rainbow still includes you, too, you know?

You, topia

© Chelsea Leigh Stockton (Sherrie Duris is subject)

Who are you at your core? What would you be if you strip away all the material things that adorn you, lifestyle, and make your image? What are you without your occupation? How do we make tangible the intangible qualities that are what make us truly unique? We are all works in progress, aspiring to our own nirvana of self-actualization. Are you there yet?

We are forever caught between the rock of our own individualism and the hard place of societal expectations. Youth mostly lean toward living up to expectations (though they will profess otherwise) while the older we get the more we yearn to break free of the confinements of conventionality. Collectively, though, we tend to want to keep up appearances, and that is a costly lifestyle both financially and in terms of our mental and physical health. It takes a toll to pretend.

Our capitalist economy, maybe any form of economy, dictates that we be a collection of products first and foremost. You must practice self-expression through clothes, cosmetics, commitment to fitness and food choices, and your taste in entertainment and extracurriculars. You set yourself apart by branding, or at least the brands you choose, because status is everything, and you do not ever want to be yesterday's news.

What are we to do then? Walk around naked? Let ourselves go? Give up? That would be unacceptable, and actually defeat the purpose of our existence anyway, but what we need to do is shift the center of our personal and collective universe away from....things.....and to what truly gives us fulfillment. The default setting on our health and happiness meter is probably family and experiences, not material wealth, not a career, not what we are constantly told by the marketplace of diets and clothing designers, drug companies and politicians.

The late Dr. Leo Buscaglia was fond of saying the we are "human doings" because we are so obsessed with proving we are worthy of existence through tangible deeds, contributing to society in a literally visible way, that we have lost track of our true essence, the fact that we matter anyway, independent of our works. Indeed, there are few if any careers that enjoy a completely positive image in our society. Some are too complicated, dismissed as "rocket science" in conversation. Others are too simple and seen as unworthy of respect. Did you tip the wait staff at the restaurant with a generous gratuity? Do you greet the garbage collector or your postal delivery if you happen to see them? Wave at the public transit driver? I didn't think so.

We have to stop equating ourselves and each other with our jobs and our wardrobes and our bank accounts and our vehicles and every other measure of self-worth we have allowed society to calculate for us. We need to transcend "tolerance" and replace it with acceptance, free ourselves of labels and stereotypes. The marketplace is not going to stop categorizing us anytime soon, so best to just give it your middle digit.

Religion, too. Personally, I carry enough guilt to be a Catholic, and complain enough to be Jewish. Maybe that is why I am agnostic. See? There come those caricatures again, those easy-to-use ways of pigeon-holing people. We are so populous as a species, and put such a premium on convenience, that we accept our lazy ways of classifying people as the norm. We are diamonds, people, with multiple facets that will only glint in the light of patience in learning about ourselves and each other over time.

You-topia? You are already there, you just haven't realized it yet. You are still consumed by consumerism, restrained by beliefs that you cannot make a difference, that only your vote matters in your district, your ward, your precinct, and in the marketplace. You believe you are a means to an end for others, not for yourself and your family and friends, let alone other species. Rebel. Lead a personal mutiny against everything unimportant. Do not let the pressures of society lead to pent-up anger and hostility. Relax. Free your mind. When someone asks "what do you do?," tell them who you are instead. Remind them that you are a human being, already worthy, and so are they. Repeat. Daily.

Ego

© The-open-mind.com

I like to think that I don't have an ego, or at least not a big one, but lately I find myself facing emotions and triggers that make me realize I might be wrong about that. It has also started me thinking about what an ego is, what it is connected to, and why it is largely considered a "man thing."

Pressed to define myself, I would have to say I am a writer who knows a lot about entomology, the study of insects. Many people would reverse the order, saying I am an entomologist who writes. That is flattering, and it is the reputation I have earned through countless hours of volunteering to answer online questions about "bugs," giving public presentations, and writing my other blog, Bug Eric. Oh, and I was principal author of the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America. Here in Colorado, that seems to matter little, and people frequently credit a retired state entomologist for everything they know and appreciate about insects.

This individual has remained a mystery to me. He has never introduced himself to either welcome me or express regret at my arrival here four years ago. That stings a little when colleagues don't acknowledge you. What hurts more is what I perceive as a fierce loyalty to this person that I will never receive from anyone who has met both of us. Whatever I do will never be as good as what he did.

I find I have a competitive tendency in situations like this, and I really don't like to be competitive. I would rather have a cooperative, equality-based relationship with most people. I don't consider myself superior, and in fact I now get an inferiority complex at the mention of this entomologist's name.

So, our ego wants to cultivate a sense of loyalty among others; and it will become fiercely competitive in order to achieve that. What else is the ego up to that we may or may not be conscious of? The first definition of ego in my handy The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, copyright 1973, is "The self as distinguished from all others." Ah-ha! We literally want to "be somebody." Our ego is a product of everything we have done to achieve our sense of identity, from being kind to strangers to earning a degree, to climbing the ladder of our career. This is where things might come undone. Men in particular often equate their entire identity with their occupation. Suddenly, you seem to slip down a notch in the hierarchy of your field and all emotional hell breaks loose. You are convinced that you are now a "nobody."

Why do we so easily forget that our identity is not just what we do for a living, but who we are as human beings? A good analogy, perhaps, is colleges and universities. The most graphic presentation of these academic institutions is their athletic teams. The football and/or men's basketball program are the public face of the whole school. Measuring the quality of education at a school by the performance of its sports teams is, of course, ludicrous, but we do it every single season. Likewise, our career status is what everyone sees in us, regardless of whether they truly know us. It can be argued persuasively that we put entirely too much effort into career success at the expense of family, friends, and community, maybe even our own physical and mental health.

The other thing about occupation is that it is something tangible, demonstrative, and that is really high on the men's priority list. Guys, try listing less visible qualities about yourself. Hard, isn't it? Somewhere I have filed away a list of my own positive attributes (strengths) and negative personality traits (weaknesses) in case I ever have another job interview. We, myself included, don't seem to devote nearly as much time and energy into becoming better human beings as we do to being better workers, supervisors, or CEOs. This is tragic and ironic when you consider the people you hold in high esteem. They are likely to be people who impacted you directly as friends, mentors, partners. We can admire public figures, but we love family, friends, and colleagues close to us.

I'm feeling better already for having reminded myself that I am not "just" a writer or an entomologist. I am a husband, a friend, a volunteer, and sometimes an activist. So who are you? Take a moment, I can wait. Think about this daily, make it a habit to praise yourself for the intangibles. That is where you earn what is most valuable and irreplaceable of all: true loyalty.

How May I Direct Your Call(ing)?

My career could have used a switchboard operator long before now. Heck, maybe it had one and I am such a stubborn cuss that I refused to listen, insisting that she was giving me the wrong number and I already had the right one. Here I am now, well over fifty years old, and just beginning to achieve some clarity.

© Ironagetattoo.com

I grew up as an only child, believing I was destined to become an entomologist, or at least a naturalist. I went to college with that ambition, but by the end of my third year I was beginning to have my doubts. My fourth year I switched majors to "resource recreation management" (I swear that is what they called it), but then I ran out of both ambition and money. I do remember being disillusioned. I had taken up jogging, and one evening at the literal end of the road I gazed over at Mt. Hood in the setting sun and said out loud "How can you reduce that to a soil profile?" The abstraction called for by science was blasphemous to me.

Still, I pursued entomology, and even got some good jobs and great experiences out of it. They did not last, though, in part because I felt that others considered me a walking encyclopedia of insect knowledge and nothing more. Issues stemming from my parents' divorce when I was around eleven had been left largely unresolved, and I did not function well socially nor work (play) well with others. My identity was entomology and I did not know how to assert the fact that I have other facets to my person. I still have that trouble in many ways, making me prone to withdrawal in an effort to punish others for not seeing me as a whole person.

A few years ago I lost an online job that I know I would have been perfect for. The employer even said as much, but chose someone else because I had been volunteering as an entomology expert for the company that they saw as their chief competition. They did not bother asking if I would quit the volunteer gig....nothing. They didn't even call me to say they had selected someone else. I had to find out by e-mailing them. I was so incensed that I slammed my fist on my glass-topped desk and cut myself on its edge.

That was the big sign I should have heeded. I should have stopped pursuing all jobs "bugs" right then. Instead, I continued dialing wrong career numbers.

I thought this spring, with its ridiculously cold, wet weather was finally going to send me over the edge into insanity because I couldn't even find insects as a recreational pursuit, let alone to write about in my other blog. What I found was that I started writing more about other topics on this blog. Amazingly, I am enjoying it. I always have, but I never thought I had enough talent or experience or, mostly, knowledge of other subjects, to pull it off. I am beginning to think otherwise.

Just the other day I put up the following as a Facebook status:

"I am a writer, artist, social critic, husband, and sometimes activist. So, another gentle reminder that if you want the "bug guy," he is over at "Bug Eric" [another Facebook page]. If you want an entire human being, then please stay right here. Thank you. We now return you to your own identity crisis (or clarity)."

One respondent commented that he sensed I was trying to separate my identities on Facebook, and that he had tried that once without much success. "Good luck with that," he said. Well, he is right in one sense, but my motivations go far beyond social media. That post was mostly a self-affirmation, reminding myself that I am more than a career, deeper in character than most people realize, and that I should be proud of all that I am beyond entomology.

Would I trade all my previous successes and failures, hang-ups and busy signals? Of course not. What do I say about this blog? "Timing, on the other hand, is everything." I have to accept that the timing in this case may be this way for a reason I am not yet aware of. Some friends and colleagues and acquaintances will not want to progress with me on my journey from this point forward. That is nothing I have control over. I will never be able to turn my back completely on the wild kingdom of six- and eight-legged animals, nor will I ever turn down requests from people who want my help and are genuinely grateful for it. What is different is that I now know I must take a different fork in my occupation. Most roads we choose are already "well-traveled by," as Robert Frost put it in his classic poem; but, they have not been travelled by you. That, my friends, is what makes all the difference.