By Taz Clifford
LGBTQIA+ UniSQ Student Senator
Picture a small restaurant in a suburb of Toowoomba. At one table there is a group of men. Their faces are serious and focused. No one laughs too hard or seems too comfortable. They occasionally look over at the people at the other table. Those people are totally different. They are vibrant and diverse. They laugh, talk over each other a little and feel safe enough to be themselves. They connect with each other deeply and sometimes they argue a bit, but then they work it out. They look at the people at the other table too, and they are nervous.
IDAHOBIT, the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Intersex Discrimination, and Transphobia, was originally launched in 2005 as IDAHO – International Day Against Homophobia. The date, 17 May, was chosen as the anniversary of when the World Health Organisation (WHO) removed homosexuality from the Classification of Diseases. It has expanded a couple of times to include more Queer groups: namely transgender, bisexual and intersex folk. This year’s theme is At the heart of democracy.
I will admit something a little embarrassing as an International Relations major (from 20 years ago, granted). I had to Google the definition of democracy, but looking at that term broken down into “demos” – “the common people/citizens” and “kratos” – “to rule/power” got me thinking: “yeah, but who is included in “demos”, because in ancient Greece it surely wasn’t everyone. In our modern, global interconnection of societies it isn’t everyone either.
The original people referred to as “demos” were a lot like a model in economics, used a lot in the 80s and 90s, called “the rational man”. If you have ever seen when AI takes the average of a bunch of photos and shows you what that looks like, that is essentially what this was meant to be for an “average” worker and consumer. The problem was that it only looked at what people thought of as “normal” ignoring people from marginal groups, so essentially the model is a straight, white, cisgender (not transgender) man with no disabilities.
The problem is that very few people actually fit that narrow idea of what is considered “normal”. This “rational man” was a projection of a biased idea of what “normal” is, and then economists tried to predict employee and consumer behaviour based on this idea. None of it worked that way in real life.
“But Taz!” I hear you yell, “Why are you talking about the exact opposite of the people IDAHOBIT exists to represent? I thought you were one of us? That you represent us? Haven’t they had enough attention?”
The elephant in the room is that in marginal communities, we have given up on joining the “rational man” at his table and have instead made our own table and are gradually shifting over to the more inclusive one. This has left many of these men to their own echo-chamber where they are getting isolated, angry and radicalised. In fact, one of them wrote a book, The Rational Male, based on the rational man idea, but with some really dark additions.
I can write all day on how we have been done wrong and what people ought to do. I am sick of waiting for the so-called rational man to save me from marginalisation and I realised something in writing this: I don’t need saving, but maybe he does. If you peer into the manosphere and look at the people stuck in there, ignoring the ideas and the lashing out, you just see isolation and disconnection. I see an opportunity for change and for the rest of us to be a bit bigger too.
We have let algorithms, technology and media owned and run by people with money tear our communities apart, when we should be looking after every person as a valuable part of a larger whole. Every person is worthy of inclusion, not just the nice ones or the people who say the same things we want to hear. And might I remind us all; there is a huge difference between systems that privilege groups of people and the people who make up those groups.
Instead of attacking those people, might I suggest that we seek to change the systems of power at the root of our exclusion. I assure you, I practice what I preach, and I am yet to be harmed by treating each person like a worthy and valuable human being and engaging with them in an authentic and connected way. I hear things I dislike sometimes, but I am also then in the right spot to ask questions and make suggestions that might change a person’s mind or plant a seed that may shift their thinking later.
This IDAHOBIT, I ask my Queer community to recognise your power and to use that power by engaging in radical authenticity and connection. Be yourself without apology, own your space and then invite people into that space you hold like the gorgeous, fabulous, strong people you are with kindness and respect. Set the tone we expect to see moving forward and resist with everything you have.
In the suburban restaurant a small, blue-haired gentle-them pauses. Their jaw sets and they stand, shaking a little. They walk over to the table of men, legs trembling but determined. The rest of their table goes silent and watches, ready to react but too shocked to interfere. In a voice that starts a little softly but picks up confidence, they ask, “Hey, I noticed you all looking over. Would you like to come join us?”
I don’t know how they respond, but isn’t it past time we asked?
