I truly didn’t know that LGBTQ characters could exist in popular, mainstream culture until they appeared on the screen in front of me.
I had a pretty traditional upbringing in terms of the media I was exposed to as a kid – I grew up watching TV shows like Spongebob Squarepants, That’s So Raven, iCarly, Suite Life of Zack and Cody, Hannah Montana… all great shows, no doubt, but the same in the fact that they portrayed mostly nuclear families, living out their lives in different circumstances. (With the exception of Spongebob, of course, which was basically the only exposure I had to a nontraditional living situation – nothing but respect for MY gay couple, Spongebob and Patrick- although I didn’t realize it at the time!)
Everyone’s favorite undersea duo.
Photo Courtesy of Nickelodeon
The movies I watched were more or less in the same vein: Nick and Disney movies, both animated and live action, portraying seemingly similar characters in different walks of life. I was only ever exposed to straight characters, living their straightest lives – not because my family was opposed to the alternative, but because mainstream media with gay characters simply didn’t exist in the early 2000s.
But then, like many other people… Glee changed my life.
In maybe the fifth or sixth grade, I was sitting in the living room, trying to focus on homework, while my sister watched TV (too loudly for me to focus – some things never change). Frustrated, I turned to her and asked her to turn the volume down, but something on the screen caught my eye. There were two girls interacting, but this wasn’t the light banter of friendship that I was exposed to on iCarly or Hannah Montana. There was… something there. Some tension that I wasn’t used to seeing between two girls; for the first time, I felt something pinch in my chest. I recognized myself in that scene. Although I wouldn’t realize my sexuality until a few years later and wouldn’t begin to cope with it and publicly address it until halfway through high school, something inside me changed the moment I saw gay characters on TV. “Greta?” I asked, my voice cracking with a surprising anxiety as I called her name, “Are those girls… are they together?”
My sister turned to me, reacting in a much more calm and collected manner, “Yeah, sort of.” She gave me a knowing half-smile, perhaps reading into my reaction more than 12-year-old Amelia ever could. “They’re not dating… but, they’re still together, you know?” My throat tightened. It would take me several more years to realize it, but I totally knew.
The girls who changed it all for me
Photo Courtesy of 21st Century Fox
My world was entirely rocked by the fact that you could have two characters… of the same sex… together. That was a notion I had simply never been exposed to in media, and it blew my mind and shattered my world perspective. It was never that anyone in my life was opposed to it, it was just that I’d simply never seen it in any show or movie.
From then on, I became obsessed. At first, it was a subtle obsession – I’d pick up on the meta-information on the covers of books and posters for movies, and then either check out the book from my library or try to find the movie somewhere online. Anytime my gut instinct was correct and I found a queer character somewhere on the screen or within the pages, I would be euphoric. It was like a treasure hunt, at first… but a treasure hunt where I kept finding myself getting empty treasure chests and being queerbaited* more often than not. I found myself feeling slightly cheated, if not upset, about the whole ordeal – it didn’t feel like there were really any gay characters or plotlines out there. Everything I consumed in the media seemed straight – from the music I heard to the movies I watched and the books I read – EVERYTHING seemed to be the same. I felt so hopeful the first time I saw two girls together on Glee, but after even that plotline fizzled out and got 86’d by the writers, I felt alone as a queer person in the world. I officially wanted to give up after watching Blue is the Warmest Color freshman year. I felt underwhelmed and exhausted by the shoddy representation dished out to the LGBT community: “This is what we get?” I thought to myself, “Porn directed by a male director with an unhappy ending?” I felt hypersexualized and invalidated as a queer person; but even worse, I felt invisible. It felt like mainstream media didn’t want us.
The leading ladies in Blue is the Warmest Color, who hurt me more than helped me (loathe as I am to admit it)
Photo Courtesy of Quat’sous Films
But, things began looking up when my family started watching a new show, Modern Family.
I loved the show, but was especially engrossed watching Cam and Mitch interact in such a genuine, adorable way. They were a queer couple, of course – but that wasn’t the main conflict of the show. Of course, it detailed the struggles they faced as a gay couple in an honest and genuine manner, but it didn’t feel like the world was against them like it was in so many other examples of queer literature. “This is how LGBTQ media should feel,” I thought, “It should always be this good, this honest, this genuine.”
We all stan you, Citchell
Photo Courtesy of 21st Century Fox
So began my quest; my real quest (one shared with so many other queer people) was to find good representations of ourselves in media. I’ve been on that same journey ever since, encountering wins and losses along the way – but now, I invite you to join me. For my column series, GAYXSU, I’m going to be looking at queer artists in a variety of formats – I want to look at movies with LGBTQ plotlines, movies with queer characters, books from queer authors… basically everything and anything queer that I can get. Through this quest, I’m hoping to walk away as a more cultured queer person, but also to help shed light on any impactful and empowering LGBTQ media. After all, if you don’t see yourself represented in pop culture, sometimes it’s your own job to make yourself represented.
This piece presents as more of an introduction – I’ll really start getting deeper into LGBT media next month – so I figured I might as well end this article on some sort of a hopeful note: positive LGBTQ representation exists (It does! It so does! And together we can find it.)
So I’m going to leave you with the recommendation for one of my most treasured novels, Becky Albertali’s Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda.
Nick Robinson as Simon in the upcoming Love, Simon movie
Photo Courtesy of 21st Century Fox.
It’s one of the most tear-jerkingly cute and real books I’ve ever read. The novel was published in 2015, and when I read it my junior year of high school, I was shocked by its witty humor, realistic depiction of being queer, and the ups and downs of the coming out process. Although it’s YA, the novel has a theme of relatability that spans any age gap – it is relatable and funny and beautiful – and, thankfully, it has been getting the recognition it rightfully deserves. A movie version, named Love, Simon, is currently in the works and hits theaters on March 16th, 2018. This it feels like a win for the LGBTQ community.
Having a book that’s so genuinely successful and wonderful, and one that also has a queer main character and plot, feels amazing in a way I can’t really describe. It feels like being seen; like being recognized. It shows that LGBTQ people can exist in the media, for a reason other than to be sexual objects or to hype up the “edge factor” of the piece (does a certain girl-on-girl kiss from Riverdale come to mind for anyone else?).
Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda is a book I’d recommend for everyone and anyone to read, but especially people trying to find reflections of themselves in society. It’s exciting to see a mainstream movie being made of it, too. It feels like a step on the right path – a path that mainstream media seems to ignore. Here’s to hoping that our culture continues down this path, and hoping that we find more treasure than not with GAYXSU.
AMELIA ZEVE | I even procrastinate the fun homework (like this column) | KXSU Art Reporter
*Editor’s Note: Queerbaiting refers a practice (often in television and film) where a queer subtext is written between two characters of the same sex, with no intention of actually depicting them in a romantic relationship. This term is meant to imply that this practice is done on purpose to attract a queer audience. In a blog post on The Next, University of Washington student Emmett Scout suggested that “queerbaiting works on its audience because it offers the suggestion that queer people do have a vital place in these stories, that they might even be the defining figures, the heroes. The suggestion—but not the reality.”