This Book is Gay

“Whether I liked it or not, I fancied guys, but I could have so easily lied and pretended to like girls. I could have married a girl like Kelly and been utterly miserable, but instead I accepted my identity and did something about it.”

Doing “something about it” is where pride in identity and community comes from. Dawson locates pride and identity in the same action of choosing to do something about one’s feelings.

“Advertisers would like us to believe that being female somehow feels different to being male, but we will never really know. Culture tells our parents how to dress us as kids, and it becomes ingrained. It sometimes seems bonkers to me to think that a dude would have to be ‘trans’ to put on a skirt or some heels.”

Dawson believes clothing, like labels, is fluid. What matters in both cases is if a person feels comfortable in their labels or clothing. This is an instance of the institutional anti-LGBTQ+ biases that Dawson defines in Chapter 5.

“This first step, our self-acceptance, is by far the hardest step of the journey.”

From Dawson’s point of view, the journey that LGBTQ+ people go on hinges on a moment of self-acceptance. The metaphor of the journey transforms coming out into an act of travel with an end destination (pride). The journey metaphor makes coming out, an often scary and vague concept, into a concrete, narrative journey between two points, something achievable for young readers.

“[We] have little control over our sexual desires or gender even if we do have control over our identity. However you choose to identify, though, no one can ever say your feelings are a choice.”

Dawson presents the scientific information in Chapter 3 as a rhetorical maneuver. While she does not believe it is important to justify the existence of LGBTQ+ people, the fact remains that scientific proof is compelling to some people. Dawson presents this information and then negates its importance to strengthen her position: The scientific basis for LGBTQ+ identity does not matter, but if it does, then there are plenty of scientific hypotheses that explain LGBTQ+ existence. The scientific consensus reinforces Dawson’s assertion that LGBTQ+ people are born the way they are.

“LEGENDARY gay rights campaigner Harvey Milk encouraged all gay people to be more visible so that young people would be surrounded by a spectrum of infinitely varied gay people—that way people would see that stereotypes are meaningless.”

Harvey Milk and Dawson are both working toward the same end. By speaking frankly and educating on LGBTQ+ issues, Dawson is putting the “spectrum of infinitely varied gay people” in front of her readers. This quote also demonstrates Dawson’s use of style—all caps—to emphasize her points.

“I’m not for a second suggesting there is one set of rules for straight people and one for nonstraight, but identifying as LGB or T or * means you have opted out of the majority group (you’re never too young to learn that the whole world is largely run and designed for straight, white, cis men, or ‘the patriarchy’).”

Dawson suggests that the world is patriarchal. By extension, the patriarchy is the reason why institutional and explicit forms of anti-LGBTQ+ biases exist. In this framework, LGBTQ+ people are oppressed as a minority because they do not fit into the desires of patriarchy.

“The words change, but there will always be brutal words to cut minority groups down to size. We call this an ‘obliteration exercise’ Poor Person B is quite literally obliterated by insults. There is no person left at all. This is what homophobia does to young people.”

Dawson’s exercise of writing descriptors over two blank bodies is a literalization of the effects of insults, slurs, and epithets. By writing out these words over the blank figures, readers find a more concrete depiction of the sometimes abstract harm that words cause.

“[Every] time you access a media outlet […] or walk into school, you are being told straight [equals] normal. So just because something isn’t being openly hostile toward LGBT* people, it doesn’t mean it’s not quietly whispering that you’re weird.”

Dawson’s description of anti-LGBTQ+ biases as “quietly whispering” highlights the often overlooked anti-LGBTQ+ biases that lurk in our everyday lives. Not every instance of bias is shouted loudly, and it can manifest like a whisper that we might easily miss.

“Clearly, being LGBT* does not automatically make you depressed or suicidal, but the fact is that young LGBT* people, when exposed to hatred or homophobia or when living with anxiety and threat, are bound to be vulnerable to mental health problems.”

Opponents of LGBTQ+ rights often reverse the causality around LGBTQ+ suicide and self-harm, believing that LGBTQ+ people take these actions simply because they are LGBTQ+. By using terms like “hatred,” “anxiety,” and “threat,” Dawson makes it clear that LGBTQ+ people are living under constant negative pressures that could cause anybody to have thoughts of suicide.

“Although it seems crazy, it was only in 2003 that the Supreme Court finally invalidated so-called ‘Sodomy Laws’ in the last fourteen states to have them. Before 1962, male homosexual behavior was illegal in all states and could be punished with imprisonment or hard labor.”

Contextualizing the very recent history of institutional, legalized anti-LGBTQ+ biases is important. By examining legislated anti-LGBTQ+ bias in the 21^st century, Dawson brings discrimination very close to home for contemporary readers.

“To this day, though, I cannot eat treacle tart without feeling like my world might come crashing in around me, as it did that night after I had come out—because even though my afternoon had been perfectly pleasant, the cat was now out of the bag, and I couldn’t get the furry bugger back in it. That is always going to be scary.”

Dawson’s memories of coming out are so profound that they have altered the way she perceives treacle tarts. Coming out to her friend went well, yet she was afraid. The existence of this fear despite such a pleasant experience highlights just how far many LGBTQ+ people are from being safe and secure in being themselves.

“I wouldn’t trade any of these problems for the world. I am so, so glad to have them.”

Irene’s life was saved by her hormone replacement therapy (HRT) and her decision to claim her identity as a trans woman. Irene’s story shows that despite the adversity many LGBTQ+ people face for being authentic, embracing who they are makes their lives immeasurably better.

“LGBT* people are not zoo animals, and as such we do not like being stared at. It’s depressing but true that even some quite well-meaning straight people find gay people to be a bit of a freak show.”

LGBTQ+ bars and the people who visit them tend to look down on cisgender/heterosexual people entering their spaces. The tendency to gawk at LGBTQ+ people in their own spaces is an example of explicit anti-LGBTQ+ bias, an example of the “whispered” biases Dawson described earlier.

“[Pride] parades take place at the end of June each year to commemorate the Stonewall Riots that started on June 28, 1969 in New York City. These riots sparked the formation of activist groups that began to heavily influence LGBT rights in the U.S. for years to come.”

The Stonewall Riots set off a cascade of LGBTQ+ activism in the Americas and Europe. The riots began when police attempted to arrest people in the Stonewall Inn for wearing drag, which was illegal at the time. The Stonewall Riots were not the first riot caused by police raids and violence in LGBTQ+ spaces, but they were the spark in a powder keg. The riots lasted for six days, and the first Pride March took place on the first anniversary of the riots. Dawson explores the historical roots of pride to explain the collective history of the LGBTQ+ identity, which is a point of pride for many.

“I’d like to remind you that we taught you all about straight sex when you were eleven years old during sixth grade. The fact that they didn’t also teach you what same-sex couples do is nothing less than institutionalized homophobia.”

The exclusion of LGBTQ+ sexual education from the schooling system leaves many young people in the dark and makes books like Dawson’s necessary. This institutional anti-LGBTQ+ bias contributes to the shame and taboos around LGBTQ+ sex: If it’s not appropriate to be taught in schools, then it is implied to be dirty, dangerous, or improper.

“Once upon a time, there was a very bad lady—let’s, for the sake of argument, call her Maggie. She decreed that teachers in the UK must not include ‘gay lifestyles’ in sex education lessons. This was called ‘Section 28,’ and it explains why I, as a young gay man, had no idea what a gay man was OR what they did.”

Dawson’s personal experience of institutionalized anti-LGBTQ+ biases in school was directly shaped by the legislation of the UK’s Prime Minster, Margaret Thatcher. Dawson uses the fairy tale framing of “once upon a time” and the nickname “Maggie” to keep the subject humorous, even though Thatcher’s legislation deeply affected Dawson’s life.

“I figured if [other men] had a problem with me being HIV positive, it said a hell of a lot more about them than it did about me. I read profiles on dating sites saying ‘Clean only’ and ‘HIV negative—you should be too’ and all I saw was fear and ignorance.”

Kristian’s story is presented to destigmatize HIV/AIDS. Even though the stigma of the HIV/AIDS epidemic still lingers, Kristian shows that people with HIV can live completely unhindered by their diagnosis today. Dawson lets her survey respondents tell their stories directly like this because they are testimonials from people who have lived experiences that differ from hers.

“By all means, enjoy sex, but if you go looking for sex because you’re hungry for love, you’ll starve.”

There is a stereotype that LGBTQ+ people, particularly gay men, cannot find love equivalent to what can be had in a cisgender, heterosexual relationship. Dawson counteracts this by separating love from sex, implying that not only is love fully possible for LGBTQ+ people, but it’s completely separate from the act of sex. This sentiment allows for the existence of asexual people, who fly in the face of the aforementioned stigma.

“Not being in a relationship is better than being in the wrong relationship. Always.”

Dawson wants her readers to understand that smaller dating pools are no excuse for accepting abuse. General advice like this is part of why Dawson asserts that her book is helpful to allies as well as LGBTQ+ people: Not only can it help non-LGBTQ+ teenagers be better allies to their LGBTQ+ friends, but it can help them with their own relationship troubles.

“We didn’t grow up hearing about the bit after the wedding where Prince Charming tells Cinderella he wants to be able to see other people. Certainly for gay couples with families, you can see why a degree of stability is best.”

LGBTQ+ people might not be cisgender or heterosexual, but they grew up with the same cultural norms and ideals. Dawson believes this is part of why monogamy continues to exist in LGBTQ+ dating spaces.

“What we do know is that being gay doesn’t mean not having a family of your own.”

Like the belief that LGBTQ+ people cannot find true love, there is also a false idea that they cannot have families that resemble heteronormative families. Even without modern technology like surrogacy, LGBTQ+ people have always possessed the capacity to have families that resemble families with cisgender and heterosexual parents.

“There are days when I think, ‘God, life would be so much easier if I were straight,’ but those days are few and far between. I love being gay.”

Like Irene, Dawson deals with daily struggles that come from the fact that she’s LGBTQ+. The struggles are part of what makes LGBTQ+ people strong, according to Dawson. These fights and hard days allow Dawson and others to love who they are because of the resilience they have built up.

“This is the final message. We are not in a bitter war with ‘The Straights.’ It isn’t like that at all. Yeah, there are some homophobic straight people out there, but there are also some deeply homophobic gay people too. Don’t go out into the real world thinking all straight people hate you, because they really don’t, and you’ll only end up limiting yourself to what are essentially LGBT* ghettos.”

Despite the institutional and explicit anti-LGBTQ+ biases implemented against LGBTQ+ people, Dawson stresses that there are many allies in the world. Dawson believes LGBTQ+ people need all the allies they can gather and wants readers to share her optimistic view of the world beyond LGBTQ+ communities.