Queensland has thrown out the ‘gay panic’ defence for murder. At last.
I grew up with the cautionary tale of Matthew Shepard’s gruesome torture and murder at the University of Wyoming in 1998 as a signposting to hide my sexuality or only express it to others if I knew for certain they were gay too.
I’ve been fortunate for the most part, but I did have one small incident in high school that I still think about today. There was a girl – let’s call her Jane – who would make sure to always give me a wide berth in the hallways while yelling out some variations of, “Eww, dyke!” and “Don’t wanna catch the gay!”
I went to an all girls’ school, and although the early-to-mid-’00s weren’t as forgiving of homos as 2017 is, I was still lucky enough to be surrounded by peers who didn’t think of it as a big deal. At least, not enough to harass me over.
I’ve known I was gay since I had any concept of sexuality, so entering high school held an extra fear factor for me, in that I’d be attending a single sex school with full awareness that I’d be surrounded by a heterosexual majority I couldn’t escape.
I imagined being asked accusatory questions like, “Why did you choose to go to an all girls’ school?” as if I’d be expecting a smorgasbord of women to corrupt with my gay contagion. I was also hyper-aware of how I would navigate situations where I’d be in change rooms with everyone else. I always made sure to get changed in the bathroom stall. I kept my eyes on the floor most of the time.
I was afraid of being a creep. I was also afraid somebody might catch me looking at them (despite the intent of that look) and that they’d try to hurt me or humiliate me somehow.
I was diligent with these fail-safes I’d cooked up. But at 16, I’d had enough of skittering around in the shadows, pretending to be a sexless late bloomer with a passionless love for the hot guy of the month.
I came out and it went as expected. My family didn’t take it so well, and that was no surprise. My friends continued being my friends like nothing had changed, except now they excitedly asked me questions about girls rather than guys.
Some people were immediately hostile.
Jane was one of the hostile ones. She seemed personally slighted by me being openly gay and made it her mission to loudly express her disapproval to everyone. Our mutual friends, who had no problems being near me prior to my coming out, would be sure to keep a safe distance at all times – though I suspect that was more out of fear of Jane’s judgement than any worry that I’d suddenly grope them.
This was made worse by that fact I was inexplicably and intensely attracted to Jane.
One day, we were sitting in English class. Jane was seated at the same table as me and my friends. She was in a friendlier mood than normal and went a whole ten minutes without making some snide remark about me being gay. Then she abruptly turned to me and, gesturing to my friend, said, “Who would you rather fuck, me or Georgia?”
Without hesitating I said Georgia. Not because it was true; it was an act of self-preservation. Jane went pale. I knew she was furious.
After class I went looking for her and found her sitting alone on the edge of the oval. She’d been crying. I asked her what was wrong and sat next to her and she told me that I had no idea how much I’d hurt her over the last year. I couldn’t believe what she was saying – I’d never said a bad word to or about her, despite her psychotic reaction to me coming out; I just didn’t think it was worth getting into. So I told her that. Then silence.
Then she said, “I like you and I hate that I like you.”
I said, “I like you too.”
And at that, she grimaced, and we both stood up, I thought we would hug, but she started crying again and punched me in the stomach instead. I was winded. I remember stupidly thinking to myself, “Yeah, what did you expect?”
We never became friends, and we never spoke of what happened. I never got an apology, but I didn’t think I deserved one for the longest time.
Had she been angrier she might have kept hitting me. Had she been crazier she might have done worse.
Wherever Jane is now, I hope she’s come out and is happy.
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This Week:
On Wednesday March 29, Studio Kink Sydney is hosting Beat & Greet, a workshop on queer kink and impact play. From floggers, whips and canes to bare hands, get on down to learn a thing or two. Tickets are available now.
On Friday March 31, head to The Shift Club on Oxford for some psytrance with Lucid Dreams, featuring Liquid Soul and Animato. After the success of last year’s party, they’re looking to make this a regular event. Tickets are available now and all are welcome.
On Saturday April 1, head over to the Portugal Madeira Clubin Marrickville for Heaps Gay – April Tools Gay. The lineup includes Stuff, Stelly G, Sheba Williams, Gina Colada, FlexMami, Matka, Kritty and Dunny Minogue. All tickets are on the door at $15. BYO tools.
