We went on a 6-hour hike last Saturday. And on Sunday afternoon, we sat around on our deck in the sun and read books. We were quiet. We were not interacting with each other. And as I look at him (squinting in the sunlight with his usual frown-y eyebrows), I thought to myself “We need more days like these.” People assume that joy comes from “active” participation, like a romantic trip to Paris (which we are going to do soon!) , a 6-hour-hike (which we need to do more of), etc. but there is this quiet, mundane, subtle happiness that is just being around each other, on a deck, as the sun beaming down on us. Joy comes from all forms of togetherness.
We went to a cousin’s wedding. As such, it’s a 4 days family affair with a lot of extended family in a house. It was lovely, meeting people, hearing stories, laughing at old childhood memories. It was also a lot, for an introvert who is rarely around this many people. The ceremony was lovely, with many beautiful (but heteronormative and gendered) traditions like Father daughter dance/Mother son dance, etc. It was beautiful in a different way. In a sense, I felt a sense of relief because I wasn’t aware of all of these traditions in Western society. I knew in my heart I couldn’t/wouldn’t have a Vietnamese traditional wedding since I was very young, and I came to term with it. I couldn’t help but wonder, what it is like for many queer people who are married. Do we break all traditions? Do we modify them for a sense of normalcy? Do we create our own? (If so, I need to call the International queer council with my suggestions. Our wedding was pretty dope).
I wonder what it must have taken for my husband (years ago) to introduce me to the rest of his family: a brown, same-sex, and also loud immigrant during his grandma’s birthday party no less. Many of my friends made the (false) assumption that I’m only into white romantic partners. I couldn’t help but wonder, how many of his friends and family would have first thought of it that way, that I am just this shifty immigrant trying to corrupt an innocent young white man? It must be nice to bring home a potential partner and not worry about how they fit into your family. It must be even nicer to not have the gender/race complexity layer added on to it. It must be nice to organize a wedding with a traditional framework laid out for you to follow (and pay the capitalistic price tag for it)
I know an (interracial) married couple who travel the world together, and who is loving, kind, and romantic. And everywhere they travel, they post separate pictures. People who know both of them know they travel together, but for most friends and family, it’s a “Don’t ask, don’t tell situation”. For a queer person to come out, very often a friend, a family member, or even a parent asks “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” or worse “Why did you deceive us?”. They didn’t realize that it is on them to do the work, to provide psychological safety, to create a safe environment of trust, for their family member and child. Many parents would go through such lengths to provide physical safety for their children, yet when faced with the challenge of an emotional safety net, they fail, and they turn around and blame it on the child for not trusting them with such a decision. It’s (unintentionally) gaslighting.
So I guess I am incredibly lucky, and privileged, to be surrounded by family (and extended family) who look nothing like me, who has zero understanding of intersectionality and heteronormativity, (who sometimes need gentle reminders on boundaries), and they accept us anyways. I guess I am incredibly lucky, and privileged, to be in a country, a province, a city (with many many people who vote dumb, who doesn’t care about the environment or the future, or human rights in general) that I can be safe, that I can be protected by the law, that I have access to healthcare, to employment, and to marriage equality in all its forms.
Why am I writing these notes lately? I realized now more and more, that even though I am lucky and privileged to be living an ordinary life, many well-intentioned, even loving, friends, have no idea the challenges and struggles queer people are still dealing with. They only see the amazing glamor and richness of Drag race, of queer celebrities, of the loud, fabulous muscled white gay men, and they assume that all queer people are like that.
I would venture to argue, that equality and queer libration is not about having giant pride party and events, but the days where our kids can say gay and “guncle” in school, where LGBTQ+ people don’t become refugees in their homeland, where pre-teen trans kids can feel safe at home and in their own body, where POC queers with real bodies aren’t considered less sexy, less desirable, or just, “less”.
True equality is Sunday afternoons of an ordinary life, where nothing having to be done, and still everything is filled with love.
Pace Fine Arts 