In April of 2015, I had just moved into a new apartment in a small town in rural Pennsylvania close to my job with my new girlfriend (we will call her “Brittany” for confidentiality purposes). Although I had been dating girls for years, I was in the closet until I came out to my Roman Catholic parents with Brittany. While they were not too pleased in the beginning, they eventually warmed up to the idea of me dating women and even invited Brittany to Christmas with the family. We met some friends in our new town and quickly found the spot to go to that welcomes those who live an “alternative lifestyle”. This was the safe place to go for any queer individuals in that town. This place was for “the girls, the gays, and the theys”. The patrons of this bar introduced us to all the LGBTQ+ in the area and explained to us that we stick together because of hatred in small town America. Although I am from a larger city, I still understood hostility towards members of the LGBTQ+, I had just never experienced it myself to a threatening degree. About three months later, my words caught up with me.
One night, as I was walking home from the bar, I noticed that there was a piece of paper on the windshield of my car. I lifted my windshield wiper, grabbed the paper, and read the words (excuse the profanity) “You and your sinner of a girlfriend get the f*ck out of my town, you f*cking d*ke b*tch.” On the reverse side of the paper was a multitude of bible verses that I assume they would want me to look up to inform me about how I will go to hell for being a homosexual. I never did look up those verses. I did, however, check the rest of my car to see if there was anything else on it that I should be aware of. Turns out, they also decided to put razor blades in the handles of my car so that I could cut my hands when I went to open my car door. I ran into my apartment to make sure that Brittany was okay, which she was fast asleep and just fine. I then sent out a mass text to the group from the bar. They immediately were extremely supportive and were so concerned for my safety and my sanity. They all raced over to my apartment to check the perimeter and to make sure no one was lurking around the property. How my social group reacted towards me during my situation made me feel so good about the group that I belong to. They were people who had firsthand experience with hate from heteronormative people in the town.
When thinking about my group, I can apply my experiences with the social identity theory. My social identity, which is how I characterize myself within a group that I belong to, is being a part of the LGBTQ+ community (Gruman, 2016). While I cannot speak for the individuals who threatened me and vandalized my car (because I never found out who they were), I would assume that they belong to a heteronormative Christian Right group. Basing my conclusions off historical context, I would imagine that they created a negative social identity pertaining to me and my girlfriend because they feel as though the LGBTQ+ community is full of “sinners” and “sexual deviants” while placing their own community on a pedestal (Gruman, 2016). This comparison of the two groups has been documented for centuries, so it is not outside of the realm of imagination to assume so. They feel as though their “Christian moral high ground” means that they must have conflict with any group that does not necessarily share the same morals and ideas that they have (Gruman, 2016). However, I feel good about the group that I belong in (yet another trait of the social identity theory), and they did not abandon me when I was in possible danger (Gruman, 2016). My experience with the hate that I received has caused me to view individuals like those who spread hatred to my community with hostility. I wish that the conflict did not have to exist, but one can always dream.
While I never did find out who came to my car that night, it never happened again. Six years later, there were never anymore razor blades or notes for me to find. Luckily for me, theirs was an empty threat. I cannot say the same for others in the LGBTQ+ community. The sooner that those who oppose the community realize that we just want to love who we love and not be bothered, the better. While I do not base my friendships off if someone is a Christian or not, I do keep my eyes open whenever I am around a large group of Christians and feel someone unsafe in their presence. I hope to one day not feel as though I must look over my shoulder to secure mine and my girlfriend’s safety out in public spaces. No matter where I end up in my life, I will always remember those who had my back; my LGBTQ+ community. My social identity.
References
Gruman, J. A., Schneider, F. W., & Coutts, L. M. (Eds.). (2016). Applied social psychology : Understanding and addressing social and practical problems. ProQuest Ebook Central. Retrieved from https://ebookcentral.proquest.com. Accessed on 2/24/2021.
Tags: #AppliedSocialPsychology, #LGBTQ+, #socialidentitytheory, psych424