Does it Count: ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ Representation

I love Harry Potter. It is one of my favourite series, and such an important part of my childhood (and current life). But one point has come up and annoyed me in practically every other discussion I have about the series: Dumbledore’s sexuality. According to JK Rowling, Albus Dumbledore is gay. And thanks to that announcement, we queer people are told to rejoice! Hallelujah, we have the greatest wizard of all time and his sexuality was never made into his only defining feature! In fact, his sexuality was downplayed so much it wasn’t mentioned at all. Not once.

Not every reader is going to read or see an interview in which it’s ‘confirmed’. Representation needs to be undeniable, and this just isn’t the case for Dumbledore. People can safely be glad that the children weren’t exposed to it if they are that kind of bigot. People can easily say that they don’t want to talk about queerness without sounding openly as homophobic (they still do very much sound homophobic to me). People can happily not think about anyone who isn’t exactly like them. If it really was impossible to put in a single line about him being in love with a man, that’s irritating but fine. But the thing is, it can’t possibly have been impossible to put in a single line about anyone in the entire series being queer.

And while I can imagine Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Horace Slughorn, Charlie Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil and even Harry himself as all being different versions of queer (as I do, fight me on this), they simply aren’t explicitly written as it. No one in Harry Potter is written as anything other than straight. And don’t tell me relationships aren’t relevant to the story, because there are 34 (I counted) opposite sex relationships or pairings mentioned at least in passing. Not all of them were relevant to the story (Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan going to the Yule Ball together in the fourth book, for example) but they were still included. Leaving out queer people is simply not accurate, particularly with a character list as long as that in Harry Potter. It’s disheartening to queer people to see that they don’t exist in the magical world, and books for children and teens are the perfect place to introduce the possibilities to them. Finding out later and hearing that it’s a good thing no queer people were actually included for a whole host of bullshit reasons (it’s unnecessary, it’s not age-appropriate, it would be pushing an agenda/threatening people’s beliefs etc.) sends an overwhelming message. Queer sexuality is – and by extension queer people are – dirty, deviant and wrong and shouldn’t be mentioned, particularly not around children. Messages like that certainly don’t help in a culture that is already anti-queer.

In a way, ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ style representation is almost worse than none at all. It’s a sit down, shut up, and take the scraps form of representation, and no matter how starving I am, I don’t want it.

The problem is not just in Harry Potter. But this is the most well-known and widely discussed, making it the easiest to reference here.

On Prettiness

In this world, I feel like women can’t win when it comes to prettiness. Pretty is the ultimate compliment and aspiration. You should always want to be pretty. But you can’t say that you are, or you’re a conceited bitch. You can’t say that you’re not all the time, or you’re too insecure. You can’t say you don’t care, or you’re lazy and/or a freak and/or (to add some typical homophobia to the mix) a lesbian. In essence, you are not a good enough woman.

Obviously this is nonsense, but it’s culturally seen as true. If you’re doubting me, just look at the expectation for women to wear make-up to be seen as presentable. Beauty is not a hobby in this context, it’s mandatory. There is no real mandatory male equivalent that would not come under personal hygiene instead (which is and should be expected of all genders in some contexts). A woman with no make-up on is not unclean or unhygienic, but is often viewed as lesser than a woman who has taken the time to apply it (in a pre-approved way, of course). The way women are praised too often puts their appearance very highly in the list of priorities. Appearance based compliments are very common and certainly very pleasant to receive, but it would be nice if other attributes were considered equally as much. To be a valued woman, you must be (or be perceived as) pretty.

But prettiness is not a kind of rent that women must pay in order to exist. To not be (or not be seen as) pretty is not a crime and it does not make you lesser. To not devote a lot of thought, time or money to beauty when the main reason for it is obligation does not mean you are lazy or strange. But equally to enjoy beauty and feel as though you are conventionally pretty is not a bad thing either. To try and assign good and bad to behaviours around beauty seems to me to be just another way to narrow the definition of what it means to be a proper woman, and lengthen the list of things to police women for doing.

5 Reasons We Need Queer Representation

This article is written specifically about representation of sexuality, but the concepts are mostly also applicable to racial/cultural, body type and gender identity representation.

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I’m not going to pretend representation has not improved a thousand times over in the past 50 years or so. Huge progress has been made! There are queer characters on TV, in films, in books, all of which are pretty accessible in some form, and that’s amazing.

But not everyone gets an equal share. The L and G are pretty well represented by this point, but the B, T, Q, I, A and P are seriously lagging the further you get in the acronym. I can name exactly one pansexual character (Captain Jack Harkness of Doctor Who and Torchwood) and even he never uses an actual label. As a pansexual myself, it’s pretty shit to feel so excluded, a feeling that is indescribable to straight people. Every single piece of media contains straight people, and almost always as a main character. Straight people get to hold at least part of centre stage at all times. You can literally not imagine what it’s like to be totally without that, not just barred from centre stage but from the role of supporting cast too. But this feeling isn’t the only reason why we need more diverse queer representation.

1. Queer people deserve to know they’re not alone

Particularly for teenagers, who often don’t have access to queer spaces in their own lives, it’s crucial to be able to see people like you. I am in a very lucky position in that I have multiple queer friends both in my ‘real’ life and through the internet, but not everyone is this fortunate. Being able to identify with a character in media is a feeling that shouldn’t just be reserved for straight white cisgender men.

2. Awareness is crucial

No one is born with knowledge of every sexuality in all the world. To start identifying with a label, something has to let you know that it’s an option. If those labels appear in media, it gives many queer people a chance to put a name to what they are feeling. But not only that, it also lifts the burden on those already identifying with (lesser known in particular) queer labels to educate every straight person they talk to, as those straight people will have had the chance to learn from the media they consume. And following on…

3. Media creates empathy

One thing fiction is very good at doing is creating sympathy for the plight of a protagonist. Telling the stories of minorities to other people allows them to see our lives in a different way, and form a deeper understanding for how we are affected by the world. Maybe as a result they’ll start to question if/how they contribute to that.

4. It shows our worth

A lot of the time, the cishet white guy is seen as the one who is most worthy of attention in media. They are the shining knights here to save the day and get the girl, regardless of the setting. Society tells them their stories are worth our time and attention, but the same is not true for everyone else. Queer people worth our attention too, and we need to give them it.

5. It challenges bigotry

I personally am always pro making bigots uncomfortable, and that’s what queer representation does. They don’t want us to exist. But showing us in media forces them to either accept it or become some kind of cave hermit who cannot interact with any kind of media for fear of coming across a queer.

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If you have any book, film or TV show recommendations that feature queer people or any other ways you think representation is beneficial, leave them in the comments! x

Thoughts on ‘Gay’ as an Umbrella Term

Gay marriage, gay pride, gay sex, gay rights. Everywhere you look, the LGBTQIAP+ community is branded as synonymous with gay, even when technically that is less than 1/8 of the acronym (and less than 1/4 if you take gay to mean men and women).

On the one hand, I don’t mind. I call myself gay regularly, particularly when I see an attractive girl in the “fuck I’m so gay” sense. Gay is certainly quicker to say or write and easier to get the mouth around than LGBTQIAP+. The meaning is known by everyone and it’s not seen as offensive (excluding the views of the ignorant/homophobic).

But I can’t fully like it.

For one thing, gay and homosexual are pretty synonymous. And while homosexual people are part of the community with no doubt, they’re not all of it. And sometimes using gay for everyone makes it feel like they are. It creates the ridiculous standards of who is and isn’t gay enough. It excludes people from their own community through omission. Queer people who aren’t gay are told simultaneously that they shouldn’t split off from the community, but that they’re a lesser part of it at the same time.

Personally, I use queer instead of gay as my umbrella term. Its history binds every non-cis and/or het person together through its use as a slur in the past, it does not prioritise one identity over others and taking it back and wearing it proudly gives us power. Admittedly not everyone likes it because of the history too, however. And it’s their right to not use it or have it used to refer to them directly. But as an overall community label, it works. It’s already accepted in academia as an umbrella term – courses are often called Queer Studies, not Gay Studies.

Until a better word comes into usage, I’ll be sticking with queer as my label and umbrella term.

An Introduction

My name is Katie. I am a cisgender white student from the UK and, as the title of this blog suggests, I am a queer feminist. I use queer and LGBTQIAP+ interchangeably in discussion, and queer and pansexual interchangeably when talking about my own sexuality. I like cats, fiction and Fall Out Boy.

On this blog, you’ll find my writing on topics on queer and feminist issues, usually from my personal standpoint, and I hope you’ll enjoy your stay! x