Andrea on heterosexual privilege

This past weekend I went to Cape Town’s Pride March. After an 8-hour concert the night before, and only four hours of sleep, I had to wake up to go into town to get to the march on time – and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. As my alarm buzzed and I became conscious that my feet were still throbbing from the night before, I delusionally hit snooze thinking to myself it was physically impossible to drag myself out of bed.  Four or five snooze-buttons later, I became conscious enough to realize I had to get up or I would miss it. An hour later, I got to the march with a bunch of other students in our UConn program.

           

Erica, Aimee, Wylie, Andrea, Lindsay, Elise

The march was the most fun I’ve had in my time here. It was definitely the most joyous event I’ve ever attended. We danced along behind a colorful float, sang along with the music playing, waived to onlookers and smiled for cameras. It felt like such a surreal experience. I’m not sure what I imagined a pride march to be (‘march’ because, “the pain and suffering is not over for everyone, it will be a parade when everyone’s equal,” a man at the march explained to me) but I certainly didn’t expect it to be so incredibly fun. Absolutely everyone there seemed to not just be smiling – but beaming. The happiness was contagious and I don’t think anyone that witnessed the parade was untouched by some sort of joy, or ‘pride’.

           

 I’ve always considered myself to be an ally of the LGBT community, but I’ve never been to a march before, largely I think because I just haven’t been to a march or picket for much of anything (except for on campus at UConn when they’re convenient to join) – but also, if I’m being totally honest with myself, maybe because of the judgment or stigma in society about being gay. Why should I go to a march or parade for something I’m not? Will people think I’m a lesbian if I go? Will people think I’m a gay if I’m too gay-friendly and too passionate about helping achieve equality for all people? I’m ashamed to say the thoughts have crossed my mind before (and it’s how I’m sure I’m the product of a heterosexist, homophobic society). I’m not proud of my fears before, but I’m proud to have come to the realizations that I have about what I believe in and what I value. 

           

It’s been difficult to grapple with the idea that I’ve been a recipient benefiting from white privilege since before I was born, and that I’m only realizing how racist our society is now – after more than two decades on this planet, but I’ve become a far more open and I think better person because of that knowledge. Dancing down the street behind a float at the march, I saw a shirt that said “stop heterosexual privilege” and I almost stopped it surprised me so much. I’ve heard the combination “we live in a racist, sexist, heterosexist society” more times than I can count, but I’ve never truly considered the last part - heterosexist.

           

 Just as overwhelmed as I was by the realization that white privilege is very real and that I’ve always benefitted from it, I was struck by the idea that this other institution is equally real and perhaps even more prevalent because it transcends race – affecting all people. I started to think about all the ways that heterosexism pervades our society. Commercials. TV shows. Movies. Newspaper Ads. Lyrics. The emojis on my cell phone. I haven’t been able to think about anything since Saturday morning that isn’t heterosexist. It’s disarming and overwhelming all over again to realize how unaware I’ve been about something so real in our society.

           

 Luckily, just as aware as my classes and experiences here have made me, I’ve also been taught how to be an activist – to address the issues I’ve learned about that I want to help fix. I was recently told that we have 3 things in this world: time, energy and resources – and that every time you spend one of them, you’re casting a vote for the type of world you want to live in; and with that I’ve realized I may be only one person, but I do count. Because what if everyone turned a blind eye to issues that didn’t affect them personally? History has shown us what happens – and it’s not pretty.

            

We, as part of humanity, need to think and act more than individually. To me, that pride march is more than the LGBT community being proud of who they are, it’s about Cape Town’s allied community being proud that this sub-community exists – not ashamed. It’s about everyone being proud of who they are and celebrating your identity no matter what. It would have been all so easy to sleep in and pass on the march that ‘didn’t apply to me’. It would be easy to continue accepting the privileges of our heterosexist society – and white privilege. Returning to life as I knew it before this study abroad program would be easy – it’s change that’s hard – but with knowledge comes responsibility and I don’t think I can morally regress to who I was in the past – a person that doesn’t question society’s influences, or actively work to achieve equality for all (even in small gestures). And if spending a Saturday morning dancing along in a pride march helps raise awareness of the heterosexist society we live in and can help build a better more equal future for everyone, then I’m going to ‘vote’ for that tomorrow whenever I get the chance.