Feeling like an outsider again...

It has been quite a while since I felt or was made to feel like an outsider. Having been living in New York since 2001, I have grown accustomed to not needing to justify my sexuality or to even be questioned as to where I stand in terms of orientation. In New York, I have found comfort in the, generally, live and let live attitude and accepting, if not welcoming, view the majority of people I encounter have towards diversity. Let me preface that by stating that perhaps I have been fortunate, and that I have not suffered discrimination directly. On occasion, there have been instances of what other person's might consider or find intolerable, i.e., hearing "faggot" yelled on the street. I have, in recent past, been aware of more directed assaults on our community in New York (i.e., gay-bashings) which are, in and of themselves, intolerable.

Coming from a country and a culture that is deep-rooted in catholicism, where discrimination and hatred are rampant and the norm, not the exception, an occasional slur to me, though not forgiveable and certainly not something to approve of or support, is not something I tend to get too worked up about. That said, these instances in New York have been two or, perhaps, three.

Over the labor day weekend, I went away on vacation to Nantucket. A friend of mine had rented a house there, in order to attend a wedding and invited some of her friends and me to join. I decided that getting way would be a good idea and since I had never been to Nantucket before, jumped at the opportunity.

The preppiness aside, the setting is most magnificent. The remoteness of the island (or the feeling of remoteness), coupled by the incredible and fresh seafood, made it a perfect getaway weekend. But, during the course of my stay, one guy, attempting to hit on my female friends (three beautiful sisters of Korean ancestry) asked me "Which one of these beautiful women is your girlfriend?" My natural response would have been to say that I am gay followed by complimentary conversation of my friends (i.e., a set-up). But in this environment, where all men and woman were so uniform, clad in their polo shirts, madras shorts and cute keds, the response was one of yesteryear. "Unfortunately, none of them is my girlfriend". I felt I betrayed myself but, at the same time, had no other option.

I was reminded of a line in Priscilla Queen of the Desert, in which one character explains, after a gay-bashing, that suburbia is a cushion that safeguards us from the rest of the world.

I yearned to be back home in New York.

A.B.