Friday, April 29, 2011

Words of Hurt (Style Weekly, 11/23/2010)

[Since this is largely a place to archive my work, I'm going to start posting the stuff I've gotten published in the past.]

In the 12th century, King Henry II of England was locked in a political clash with Thomas Aÿ Becket, the archbishop of Canterbury. According to tradition, the frustrated king cried out, “Will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest?” Shortly after, without the king's knowledge, four of his knights murdered the archbishop.

The king was shocked, but really, he shouldn't have been. His knights had simply taken his words to their logical conclusion. Nearly a thousand years later, this hypocrisy has resurfaced in the religious right.

During the past several weeks there have been six suicides of gay teens in response to relentless bullying; the brutal torture of three gay men by a Bronx street gang; and the outing of 100 gay Ugandans by a local newspaper, complete with the exhortation, “Hang Them!” What has been the response of the Pat Robertsons of the country, normally so quick with an opinion on homosexuality no one asked for? Why, a combination of insincere “yes-but” condolences and callous self-absolution.

Consider an opinion piece from Anthony Perkins, president of the Family Research Council, which appeared in The Washington Post in October. Perkins, who once allegedly purchased a mailing list from Ku Klux Klan leader David Duke, writes: “Some homosexuals may recognize intuitively that their same-sex attractions are abnormal — yet they have been told by the homosexual movement, and their allies in the media and the educational establishment, that they are ‘born gay' and can never change. This — and not society's disapproval — may create a sense of despair that can lead to suicide.” He also links to an American Psychologist magazine article to point out an apparent link between homosexuality and mental illness, ignoring that the same article finds a strong relationship between those mental health issues and bullying or discrimination.

In other words, Perkins is responding to these tragic deaths by claiming that gay teens commit suicide not because of bullying, but from a combination of people telling them that they are who they are and that they're just inherently crazy, and one of our nation's most respected newspapers gave him the space to do it.

He was nearly topped by American Family Association Director Bryan Fischer, who has called homosexuality “domestic terrorism” and bizarrely claimed that Adolf Hitler and the entire military wing of the Nazi Party all were gay. Fischer specifically addressed the death of Tyler Clementi, the Rutgers freshman who leaped from the George Washington Bridge after his sexual encounter with another man was streamed over the Internet by his roommate, writing: “Mr. Clementi … was not only embarrassed but apparently deeply ashamed and consequently took his own life. There's no evidence that I've seen that indicates that he was being bullied or harassed by others for his sexual preference. In some profound way, what he did was contrary to his own deep sense of what is right and what is wrong. He likely died full of guilt and shame, which is a terrible way to die.” Fischer apparently believes that the shame and guilt many outed gay teens experience occurs in a vacuum and has nothing to do with, say, his own demonizing statements: “There is an overwhelming correlation between homosexual preference and pedophilia. This is further evidence that homosexuality is in fact sexual deviancy.”

Neither Fischer nor Perkins, both enormously influential in their circles, can bring themselves to condemn the bullying that led to the end of a life, or even acknowledge that it took place. This is hardly an isolated phenomenon, given the recent right-wing freakout over a Montana anti-bullying school curriculum that was deemed too pro-gay, and its witch hunt against Kevin Jennings, Barack Obama's openly gay appointee to the Office of Safe and Drug-Free Schools, spelled out explicitly last September with Fox News' Sean Hannity decrying, “I want him fired!”

And then there was the disturbing candor of Arkansas school board member Clint McCance, who wrote on his Facebook page, “The only way [I'm] wearin [purple] for them is if they all commit suicide” and “I enjoy the fact that [homosexuals] often give each other AIDS and die.”

Every time someone suggests that words have consequences, someone is going to cry censorship, so let's be clear: You have the legal right to hate gay people. Short of openly inciting violence, you have the right to verbally express that hatred. But you don't have the right, morally, to tell frightened, marginalized young people that they're disgusting and immoral and worthless and then wash your hands of it when they take those sentiments to such tragic, illogical conclusions. It seems somewhat contradictory for people who are supposed to be emulating Christ to insist instead on emulating Pilate.

The Dance

I've got a lot of older stuff to dump on here, but I wanted to have a post explaining a term I'll be using a lot, "the Dance". If you're reading this, you probably know I have Asperger's syndrome, a high-functioning form of autism, which, among other things, hinders my ability to communicate with people. Heather, one of the first times we spoke at length, you asked how I reconciled that with wanting to pursue a career in journalism, a field that necessarily involves getting out and talking to people. Well, it can be pretty hard, needless to say. I really don't want to sound whiny, but it's a hell of a thing, running into the fray while this disorder I have is trying to pull me away from people, and I have to balance that unstoppable force and immovable object. "The Dance" is what I call the attempt to do both. I think I'm getting a little better- for a recent assignment, I had to do man-on-the-street interviews at Virginia Union University and I feel like I did way better than I have on that kind of thing in the past- but it's not going to be something I'm ever perfect at. Just wanted to let everyone know what the term meant, since I'll be using it a lot and discussing its effects a lot.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Why Americans Care About the Royal Wedding

On Friday, Prince William, the grandson of a powerless figurehead, will marry Kate Middleton, and America has been embarrassingly captivated by the whole spectacle. I’ve heard a lot of people of a similar mind to me on this say they don’t understand the fascination with the royal wedding, but I can’t entirely agree. Don’t get me wrong; if what they mean is that it’s a ridiculous, meaningless occasion, I completely agree. But on some psychological level, I think it makes perfect sense for Americans to be this infatuated with the wedding.

It’s got nothing to do with sincere Anglophilia; last summer, England saw some genuinely intriguing goings-on during a contentious election, but it received scant coverage from the American media; satirical newspaper The Onion eloquently summed up Americans’ attitude with a brief headlined “Tony Blair Apparently Not Prime Minister of UK Anymore”. Ditto the protests that have been sweeping the country over austerity measures by prime minister David Cameron’s government. No, Americans’ love affair with the royal family has more to do with our national mindset than anything else.

Here’s the sad truth: American pop culture has become structured almost entirely around celebrity as a concept. In our society, fame, talent and celebrity are three entirely separate universes, and the third is vastly preferable to the first two. Take one of the royal wedding’s high-profile guests, Kanye West, for example; West is an excellent, consistently innovative musician, and yet- largely by his own design- he’s much more famous for publicly behaving like a tool at every opportunity. Or look at Charlie Sheen; he’s a decent actor in both dramatic and comedic roles, and he was in some of the best films of the eighties, and yet now he’s a nationwide phenomenon because he’s stopped acting to be a full-time creepy, misogynistic junkie. In perhaps the inevitable culmination of the difference between celebrity and talent, one of the guys from “Jersey Shore” (you can’t honestly expect me to know which is which) has been approached for a three-album deal by 50 Cent, himself a mediocre rapper who owes his celebrity largely to the mystique of his criminal past. And now, with the wonder of online social media, we not only can we treat these people’s antics as news, we can do the same thing with their every banal thought. The idea of infamy has been pretty much engineered out of existence; the worst possible fate is instead obscurity.

What does all this have to do with the royal wedding? It’s the exact same principle at work, and that’s why Americans follow it so closely. Prince William’s mystique and his fame have nothing to do with anything he has accomplished; they are entirely the result of his parentage and his general existence. That's just a fact. He, like his father and his grandmother, was born to be famous. In a reality-television culture obsessed with people famous for being famous, it’s only natural that we should admire the ultimate form of that principle: people who claim the divine right to be where they are. They’ve refined the vapid celebrity-worship that we thrive on and made it seem classy; they’re the Kardashians for the squeamish. Hell, Princess Diana beat Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt in the field of “attractive, privileged people frowning at the problems of the Third World as though that solves them” by several years.

In fact, royal wedding mania is such a distinct product of celebrity culture that when actual world events threaten to intrude on it, they’re forced to the sidelines. Recently, human rights advocates publicized the fact that the couple had invited Bahrain’s crown prince, currently engaged in the brutal suppression of an uprising by his people; the prince declined his invitation and the media was content to largely pass the story by. Lesson learned: stay away from our fairy tale, yucky geopolitics.

One of the principles we as Americans pride ourselves on, and rightly so, is our foundation on the revolutionary idea of a state without kings or queens, but that’s only partly true. It’s true in the more important sense, that we don’t put power over our nation in the hands of a single sovereign who inherited the position. But if we view “royalty” in a broader sense, that is, people who didn’t earn anything, who lucked into their power, and yet are still given our adulation and undivided attention, we could teach the Britons a thing or two.

First post

Okay, for those of you who don't know me, I'm an aspiring journalist, and I've gotten some stuff published, but I feel like I'm annoying people by putting so much of it on Facebook. This is essentially a place to put my journalism writing so it'll be in a safe place. Other times, it'll be a place to post about movies, my life or other tangential topics. I don't know how often I'll update, but I'll try to make it semi-regular. It depends on what I think of.