The laughter and jokes that followed at the expense of these hypothetical queer lovers hurt me to this day. Not only being told about queer sex, but told in a way that made it sound like something to be feared and discouraged. This, to my knowledge, was my introduction to queerness. It was not too long before one of our more foul-mouthed friends piped up and said, "Because that means they're gay." We were told to watch out for more than one set of feet in the bathroom stalls.Īfter we scampered off, barely listening because we were just on a bus for multiple hours, we started to ask what she meant by that. While not unusual to tell fourth-grade kids to be careful in a public restroom, it was what she warned us about. The chaperone stopped to warn us to be careful in the restroom. As we got to the mall, and many of us young kids were rushing to the bathroom after the long drive, me and a group of other boys were gathered up by one of the chaperones. I recall a time in fourth grade when we took a trip to the Mall of America. Coming From a Place of IgnoranceĪnti-queer ideologies started young for me and many others around me. It was only after leaving that small town and the people I grew up with that I was able to begin exploring feelings and ideas that didn't stem from anti-queer ideologies.
I often heard my peers and the adult figures in my life discuss how they were "OK with gay people, as long as they don't shove it in my face or anything." This not only shaped and stunted my queerness, but paved the way for my jagged coming out experience.įrom daily questioning of my heterosexuality to bigoted ideologies being thrust onto me and my peers, I found myself and my queerness buried under the weight of heteronormative harm.
Growing up in a small town, I never had a great opportunity to discuss the existence of queerness, let alone come out.