Poofter – The Treatment of The Modern-day Poof

The blenders blitz relentlessly, ricocheting around the cafe if it were not for the already booming sound of clinking crockery, slamming tills, and milk steamers gargling over sporadic chitter-chatter. The barista reads a coffee cup and calls out the fake name that I gave, then hands it to me – looking at my outfit up and down, smiling the way a mother smiles at her child’s finger painting.

I sip my venti, hazelnut frappuccino delicately as if it were the last thing I’ll ever drink. It tastes the way a late renaissance painting looks – what I’ve been hankering for all my life; the only thing my body needs or will ever need; genuinely Starbucks’ magnum opus – nothing, and I mean nothing can falter my unwavering agency in this moment.

The door flings open, the sun glistens on my face; I lit my cigarette and took a hard left, bumping into what felt like an oncoming train that knocked me completely off my feet throwing the caffeinated gold out of my hand and on to the floor where it spilled over, melting in the heat.

Then that word – louder than a bang and with all the might of a bullet coming from a man towering over me, blackened in shadow but highlighted by the harsh rays of sunlight like some belligerent god. “But… it’s 2019…” I mumble to myself, slumped on the ground and shaken.

And I was in Brighton of all places; the nouveau social and cultural epicentre of the UK; The eclectic haven for the expressive and bohemian, and home to the artists and outliers of every creed – why was I just called a poofter on their streets?

            Perhaps it’s some intrinsic birthright, perhaps it’s the dread I feel when someone tongue pops for emphasis at the sight of glitter, perhaps it was the half-arsed Barclays pride float I saw weeks ago, perhaps it was seeing all the rainbow bunting now in bins, or perhaps it’s the fury I felt watching my iced coffee trickle down a drain – regardless of the reason, I feel the overwhelming need to document and discuss the treatment of the modern-day poof.

            But why? Equal marriage is now legal in the UK and the US! Surely the gays should be happy and everything should be fine?

           In fact, there’s actually a lot of basic rights and principles that need to be addressed when discussing the current issues regarding the LGBTQIA+ community. These issues include but aren’t limited to the dismantling of conversion therapy, the inclusive rights of trans people in regards of the law and their place within it, gender binary options as regards to documentation, the treatment of hate crime cases made towards queer people, queer exposure in the public and media, and more importantly how public sectors educate the masses about queer experiences.

            Overall, there is not enough being done and we can no longer be complacent when it comes to just being “tolerated” by the masses – as if queer people have been granted some sort of invitation to a territory that does not and will not allow them unconditional sanctuary. I am not looking for tolerance; I am not looking for acceptance regardless of your differing beliefs and opinions. I want my existence to be witnessed with the same modicum of respect that is so easily expected of me towards heteronormativity.

            The way I see it, the socio-political power structures that govern our society, specifically the people within them, don’t necessarily want any sort of discussion. They are content with the fact that homosexuality exists and is, sort of, kind of, not really “normal”. But that is only a small component in the complex schema that queer people live in, and the more complicated these experiences go the more it seems these power structures doze off.

            I would like to make a note that my experience does not speak for the general depiction of what is happening to other queer people in the UK. In fact, my experience as a white, male-passing, queer person does not speak for the majority of the experiences of queer people globally. It is not just being called a poof outside of a Starbucks because you’re wearing a repurposed dress and a crop top, it is being made to feel inadequate in the home, school, or work; it is the humiliation of having one’s identity questioned, falsified, or made into some comical trope; it is the difficulty manoeuvring safely in a society, or rather many different societies, with social cues and traditions that act against your own existence.

            And it all begins with the way queer people are viewed by the masses. We as a population can sing to high heaven about how tolerant we are, but have we truly questioned the price of this tolerance? Are we just saving face while teetering around a large pink elephant in drag? Is one side of the debate just being read through translation?

            I am not pointing the finger as I, as well as many other passing queer people, am guilty of abiding to the social schemas that protect me in this way – there’s a disparaging mentality depicting the world as too much, and we just don’t have the time and energy to stay and chit chat about these cases of special people in need, because we are also special and in need, so can we just share some post on our Instagram stories or donate some money?

            However, there is no coffee cup to throw your change into as you pass by, and there is no amount of money that can make the issue disappear overnight. This is going to take a lot of work, sadly. What needs to happen is a completely different, relative and subjective approach to any social issue; an individual and personal reform – and that is to observe without opinion – to listen and to witness.

            Revolutionary, I know! But from my experience, I, like many, many, people, am quick to offer advice and opinions on issues that I only have approximate knowledge on, and it is only through this type of reflection that I found that I really ought to shut up until I have something beneficial to add to the discourse. And, I should make a note that what I add should not be emotional.

            The original draft of this piece was full of anger and resentment towards heteronormativity, and what it on an institutional level does to me and my kin. None of which has made it into this draft as I could not rationalise those words into a fathomable discussion on issues that I care so deeply for.

            How am I supposed to get anyone against me to consider the difficulty and hardship of someone transitioning, to listen to a discussion on HIV stigma as well as understand its preventative medication and treatment, to care that a quarter of homeless people in the UK are queer, or to acknowledge that their own reductive and traditional ways of thinking are harmful to any sort of collective development, if I am being irrationally emotional?

            So, what now? I implore you for even just one day, to actively research into this phenomena. I don’t expect you to end up being more tolerant, I don’t want you changing instantly, I just want you to spend this time listening, reading, and witnessing queer people participate in a discussion about their experience. That can come in many forms, maybe it’s going for a pint with your co-worker, maybe it’s actually speaking to a family member who doesn’t get the opportunity to express themselves, hell, maybe it’s finally watching that RuPaul that everyone’s talking about. Regardless, I implore you to be some catalyst of change away from tolerance and towards empathy and understanding.

            Here’s a shortlist of YouTubers who I feel do a phenomenal job as advocates for the community. If you’re interested in furthering and expanding your knowledge, please give these lovely people the opportunity to blow you away.

Kat Blaque – a trans blogger whose YouTube channel is focused on race, gender, and social justice, communicated in a way that’s like having a conversation with your best friend.