Pride and Privilege, or, A Letter about Why "Straight Pride" Isn't Very Helpful

Tonight I was scrolling through facebook and found a post about "straight pride" that struck me. I'll share it here:

I have recently spent some time talking and thinking about the idea of "privilege," and it seemed a good opportunity to share those thoughts, so I went ahead and started typing a response in the comment box. It got pretty long, and eventually I thought that it might just be something worth sharing to a wider audience.


"Privilege" is an idea that's hard to explain, especially to someone who has enjoyed it. Of course that is no shame, but it does make it harder to empathize with those who haven't. Hopefully this can help to put this conversation in a slightly different light, and hopefully this will explain a little better why these "I'm proud to be in the majority" posts might be missing the point.


Here is the letter:

Hey, man. I know you mean well, and I totally have no problem with you being happy and unashamed to be straight. You are in the majority, and there is ABSOLUTELY nothing wrong with that. But I think it's a good idea to put yourself in the shoes of the minority for a second. Will you walk through a bit of a thought experiment with me?

There's a reason that people who aren't straight have rallied around the idea of "pride." It's more or less the same reason as other minorities, whether that's a racial minority, a religious minority, the minority of people who are left-handed, the minority of people who identify as band geeks (alright, that one's a little far-fetched, but not THAT far...). The simple fact that someone lives in the minority means that their life is inherently more difficult. When they don't fit the "typical mold," they have a harder time. They are constantly on the defensive, thinking about how they might have to explain themselves. I know that seems soft, but think about it. As a straight guy, you can walk into a conservative church without even thinking about your sexuality, apart from, perhaps, whether or not you might see a cute girl that you'd like to ask out after service. What if you had the same conservative theology, but you were gay? You'd probably have a hard time concentrating on much of anything except your appearance, whether you seem too flamboyant, what you might say if someone asks if you're dating anyone, how you might introduce yourself without giving too much away, what you might ask someone to surreptitiously decide if they will be friendly to you or not. Suddenly the simple act of walking into church is an overwhelming exercise in putting up walls, in protecting yourself and subtly advocating for yourself. And church is not the only place you would feel that way if you were gay, even if you weren't open about your sexuality. This is a large part of what people mean when they talk about "privilege." Privilege is being able to walk into church (or school, or work, or home...) without having to worry about all of these other things; it's being able to focus on the task at hand without having to ALSO think about staying healthy or financially afloat or even safe. Naturally, those who are privileged in this way tend to be more successful at whatever it is they're doing.

This has been the experience for the gay person for a long time. Being gay is hard. It's hard even now, when society is a gazillion times more accepting than it used to be. And because it is hard, there is a certain kind of community there. Gay people flock to each other because this other person knows how it feels. They understand each other. They know the risks they have had to take. They understand the strength of character it takes just to be gay and survive, and even flourish.

When someone talks about "gay pride," they aren't just saying that it's great to be gay, that they love how they are, and they certainly aren't saying that they're somehow better because they're gay (or black, or left-handed, or color-blind, or whatever). They're saying that they are proud of how far they've come, how strong they've been, how they have persevered against all odds. They are saying, "I have been disadvantaged, but my spirit is strong, and I have pressed on, and with these others who have come this far with me, I will continue to fight through!" It isn't to belittle; it is to celebrate the strength of the human spirit.

When you say, "I am proud to be straight," there is certainly no shame in you being who you are, and you deserve no belittlement for saying that you are happy in your own skin. But what you ARE doing is attempting to somehow equate your experience as a straight person with that of a gay person, and the two simply aren't the same. You may be a wonderfully strong person, and your strength and resolve may have been (probably has been) tested in some other way by some other trial. But being "proud" of being straight is simply not the same as being "proud" of being gay, and a post like this, coming from a majority viewpoint that has not been persecuted, that has enjoyed an immense amount of privilege, may very well seem offensive to those who have gone through a personal hell and come out the other side intact. This post may seem to them to be a mockery, a parody that says to them, "Your troubles are not worth my consideration." It says to them, "My pride is the same as your pride," when in fact the one is only a celebration of identity and the other is an acknowledgement of immense personal struggle, of pain and worry and the incredible strength it took to keep going anyway and STILL not be ashamed of who they are.

And THAT is why people have been attacked for posting this kind of image. It isn't because being decidedly straight is intolerant or bigoted. It's because those straight people are trying to claim the pain and struggle and un-privilege of gay people as their own. It's because straight people are completely missing the narrative of the struggle of simply being gay. Do you see why they might be upset?