17 Jul 08 — Some thoughs about identity language

One of the greatest and most troubling lies we were ever taught as children was: “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Now the first part is certainly true: sticks and stones can hurt you. But the second part is dead wrong. The language we use to taunt and to define each other can last a lifetime — and I know many people who are still hurting because of the things they were called as kids and may indeed still be called today — whereas the physical bruises of youthful indiscretions sometimes heal quickly. All of us have words we don’t like to have spoken to us. As someone who came out into glbti/q culture in the late 90s, I have always identified equally with the terms gay and queer, but I quickly learned in ministry that there are many who do not like the word queer and do not accept the communities’ “reclamation” and “re-defining” of that term — for them it will always be drenched in pain and fear. Tired of getting tongue-tied with the entire alphabet to identify ourselves, I’ve mostly begun using the term “inclusive” as a way of saying glbti/q + whomsoever others I want to include who don’t fall into “our” alphabet.

This week, and several times previously in this presidential election cycle, the “N” word has made its appearance, and interestingly, as often as not, it has come from mouths of well respected members of the African-American community, and apparently not in a friendly way. It has unfortunately been used as a put down or as a way of expressing supreme frustration at someone else. And immediately, both within and without the African-American community a hue and cry has been raised, legitimately I believe. I would hope the same outcry would occur if someone were to call a Jewish-American person by the K word, or an Italian-American by the “S” word and etc.

But what happens, when as a community, we have taken the equivalent word and turned it into a badge of honor? When we use the “Q” word, or any of the other words we use in our dictionary of identities, we use it as a symbol of pride, but as often as not, we bristle the moment an outsider uses it. Understandably we are upset when it is used in a derogatory way, but I suspect many of us feel uneasy when we hear any “outsider” using our own terms even in a good way.

Historically, as each group of identity-Americans has gained a measure of legal equality, over time, terms which were used derogatorily against them have become unacceptable in polite discourse, both politically and privately. But in our case, what words would those be when we have turned them into such badges of honor? I can’t imagine us jettisoning overboard any of the glbti/q letters, and it’s been a long time since I’ve heard a term like “sodomite” used by anyone other than the most unrepentant of fringe elements. Perhaps it will be the term “homosexual” which we younger glbti/q peoples will succeed in having thrown out, but I know more than a few of our seniors who were proud of their efforts at homosexual liberation, even though I personally detest the term and believe it is the worst of them all. (Frankly I think the term heterosexual is just as bad although straight is no better. It’s high time people who are not glbti/q come up with something interesting with which to identify themselves.)

So I wonder, which of the letters of our alphabet will become the “N” word of the future? And knowing the eventuality that one of those letters will inevitably fulfill that position, should that impact how we use such language to identify ourselves today?