Opinion Advocates for ideas and draws conclusions based on the author/producer鈥檚 interpretation of facts and data.
The Risk of Gentrifying Queerness
As if predicting what is happening today, author Sarah Schulman wrote the following in her 2012 novel : 鈥淭he drag queens who started Stonewall are no better off today, but they made the world safe for gay Republicans. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but the people who make change are not the people who benefit from it.鈥
Schulman鈥檚 passage cleverly encapsulates the multilayer consequences of gentrification鈥攐f physical spaces, sure, but also of identities. When we talk about the gentrification of queerness, we鈥檙e not solely referring to the erasure and exclusion of Black, Brown, and poor queer people from , even by other members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, and asexual (LGBTQIA) community. We鈥檙e also talking about the increasing dominance of 鈥渁llies鈥 in spaces ostensibly dedicated to queerness. And we鈥檙e talking about how mainstream media prioritizes LGBTQIA people who are closer to white cis-heteronormativity. Evidence shows that none of this has gotten us any closer to improving the material conditions of our most marginalized community members.
The gentrification of queerness happens when our collective experiences are sanitized, commodified, and pushed into the realm of the status quo鈥攁t the expense of community members whose existence is far from it. This commodification often happens through visibility in popular media鈥攂ut maybe it鈥檚 that hyper fixation with that has diverted us from our path towards collective liberation.
The increasing attention given to queer people in film, TV, and entertainment could be an opportunity to rethink what’s possible when we place the collective before the individual. Maybe then we could count on more come up with nuanced , develop more to the coordinated attacks on our existence, and finally bring to a halt the epidemic of violence that has invaded the lives of all the transgender people we love and care for.
鈥淲hen the queer movement emerged in the late 鈥60s and early 鈥70s it had so much genuine radical potential,鈥 says Greer X, a trans equity consultant based in Brooklyn, New York. 鈥淏ut so much of the movement has moved away from collectivity, or from seeking liberation for all, and towards an individualized experience of identity. I believe in a diversity of tactics when it comes to moving towards queer and trans liberation鈥攂ut visibility for its own sake is a trap and presents the illusion of things getting better when in reality they are not.鈥
This increased visibility for queer and trans people in media, combined with the fact that 7.2% of American adults identify as non-heterosexual, and one in five Gen Zers identify under the LGBTQIA umbrella according to a 2022 poll, has created a facade of progress and acceptance. But as much as an increase in numbers could give the illusion of increased power, the reality of our larger community is dire.
In the first five months of 2023, were introduced, the majority of them explicitly targeting trans people. Attacks by organized white supremacist groups are increasingly targeting trans and queer people of color, . And according to a 2022 report by the , 60% of Americans still believe gender is determined by sex assigned at birth鈥攁 6% increase since 2017. Of course, it was only nine years ago when the found that more survey respondents believed they had seen a ghost than a trans person.
Ultimately, any diversion from the path of compulsive heterosexuality is a step toward the destruction of the heteronormative establishment.
When our agenda for liberation is controlled by people who move through the world with privileges and experiences we might never know鈥攖hat is, 鈥攚e have a problem: anyone who deviates from the status quo is either pushed out, attacked, or questioned. We鈥檝e seen it in the past year as shameless expressions of anti-trans sentiment increased , microaggressions transformed into actual , and , due to its effectiveness, became the preferred tool of the oppressor.
Even one of the most prominent queer shows of the recent past, which was celebrated for its trans-inclusiveness, couldn鈥檛 avoid this struggle. Angelica Ross, a Black trans actress who starred in Ryan Murphy鈥檚 Pose, told in 2021 that the lack of Black trans representation in Hollywood is due to a lack of genuine effort. 鈥淎s to be expected, a good percentage of the movement for diversity was performative and predictable,鈥 said Ross. 鈥淢any of my trans colleagues who are creators saw this coming well before it started happening.鈥
And while accurate representation of our multifaceted experiences is important, rarely, if ever, has a shiny and well-scripted Netflix show led to actual policy changes. 无码视频 representation was never the bottom line, nor the ultimate goal. When outward representation of queer and trans people鈥檚 identities and ideology are shaped by news of celebrities (see win) and transphobic billionaires (see of J.K. Rowling鈥檚 rabid transphobia after contributors called out the paper鈥檚 own and nonbinary people), it suggests something more sinister at play here.
The unrelenting attacks on trans people and the ceaseless attempts to criminalize our existence are not coincidental. 鈥淚t鈥檚 hard to talk about the commodification of queerness, or the dominance of rich cishet white people in spaces like pride, without engaging with the larger problem of rainbow capitalism,鈥 laments Syan Rose, artist and author of the illustrated novel Our Work is Everywhere. 鈥淧eople feel entitled to appropriate radical queer culture because corporations do it.鈥
In the age of America鈥檚 new fascism, celebrity culture serves to passively subdue the masses while entertaining us and making us believe that a win for one is a win for all. But a critical eye will note that this approach centers only the most privileged members of a community and wrongly shapes its public narrative. This approach is part of a well-funded coordinated campaign that’s been brewing in right-wing circles for years.
White, rich, and famous lesbian, gay, and trans people like Ellen DeGeneres, Pete Buttigieg, Tim Cook, and of course, Caitlyn Jenner, are perfect examples of this distraction tactic. Whether consensually or not, these familiar faces have become political pundits who conservatives are eager to hold up as exemplary members of the LGBTQIA community. The 鈥渞ight kind鈥 of gays, if you may. They uphold dominant cultural standards of heteronormativity, compulsory monogamy, and political centrism鈥攁nd as such, have become benchmarks for what socially acceptable queerness 鈥渟hould鈥 look like.
When this disingenuous and self-serving takeover of queerness is so prevalent, it is imperative that we prioritize those whose lives are at risk before we prioritize people in our community who move through the world with abundant privileges and safety. When the comfort of white cis people takes precedence over the lives of those who are still marginalized by their mere existence, participating in queerness without the will to risk heteronormative privilege is not solidarity鈥攊t鈥檚 betrayal.
鈥淧articularly Black trans women have articulated that yes, it鈥檚 great that we have an array of famous trans people,鈥 says Greer X. 鈥淏ut without meaningful changes in the material conditions of Black trans people, many of them are still very vulnerable to violence, and that hypervisibility and the spectacle that comes with trans folks being in popular media can result in retaliatory violence for trans folks that are in very precarious situations.鈥
The case for prioritization might feel like an attack on people who enjoy or have benefited from heightened visibility, and who participate in the more heteronormative and digestible side of queerness. But conversations about and what needs to be done to keep us all alive can happen simultaneously. Unfortunately, many of us come from a scarcity mindset which leads us to think that the small amount of support that visibility has brought us is as good as it gets. This mindset is then exacerbated by a capitalist takeover of our movements, celebrations, and labor. But the reality is that the systems that have been put in place for us to survive, don鈥檛 allow for more.聽
鈥淔or many years I was tormenting myself thinking that I was selling myself to the capitalist establishment for doing things like a SoulCycle commercial,鈥 says Cecilia Gentili, a trans activist, actor, author, and founder of . 鈥淏ut I came to have a lot of forgiveness and understanding for myself by acknowledging that was a normal response to people hating me consistently and being brought up by scarcity and our current society.鈥
Arguing for prioritization of the most at-risk is not about gatekeeping or exclusion. It鈥檚 about making sure everyone in our community has the safety to rejoice in the expansiveness of what it means to be queer鈥攅ven if, for some, that means mirroring elements of dominant society. Ultimately, any diversion from the path of compulsive heterosexuality is a step toward the destruction of the heteronormative establishment. And centering the experiences and needs of those pushed to the edges of our community allows us to lean into our shared humanity, our empathy, and our compassion鈥攚hich will be essential if we hope to build something better than the oppressive, restrictive society we all suffer under today.
When an individual鈥檚 identity takes center stage in a larger movement, the personal ceases to be political, and instead becomes another means of consumption for the masses. When the 鈥渁lly鈥 or the cis white person is prioritized in spaces where trans and queer people of color are meant to be protected, we risk having our shared culture and history be eradicated. Of course the trans and queer experience is not a monolith, but when the most privileged members of our community are the only ones who get to have a safe, celebrated experience of self, we find ourselves beholden to the same bland commodification that we鈥檝e seen in the gentrification of our neighborhoods.
At a time when large, fundamental parts of our society continue to delegitimize transness, attempt to erase our history, and try to legislate away the gay, we have to push harder to codify into law the changes we鈥檝e been asking for. We need cis white community members to stop hiding behind their queerness to excuse self-serving behavior. Real allyship is less about waving a rainbow flag once a year during Pride month and more about listening to trans people when they tell you what they need. Then follow through and follow up鈥攊n sustainable words and action.
Ale Pedraza Buenahora
is a nonbinary writer, photographer, and multidisciplinary artist interested in redefining standard approaches to storytelling with an axis fixed in identities outside the status quo. As a queer immigrant, they are always searching for raw and intimate ways to accurately capture their communities鈥 experiences of self, while prioritizing the multifaceted voices of its members. They hope this methodology serves as a way to create a sustainable and ever-adapting system that could repair the damage done to their communities by late-stage capitalism, colonialism, and white supremacy inherited by most institutions and media. At the core of their practice is a yearning for a utopian future in which change, radical love, and the care for others and our land is at the root of their communities creations and interactions with each other. Buenahora previously worked at Democracy Now! Espa帽ol and Planned Parenthood of Greater New York. They have an M.A. in Engagement Journalism from the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at the City University of New York, and are a proud product of the New York City public school system. Buenahora was born in Bogota, Colombia, and is now based in Queens, New York. They speak English and Spanish, and are a member of the National Association for Hispanic Journalists and the Trans Journalists Association. They can be contacted through their website at alegoodhour.com.
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