There are, I assume, times in everyone’s life in which an opportunity to say or do something important and transcendent arises, a time that will likely come about only once in a lifetime. Yesterday I had such an opportunity, and I somehow allowed it to pass by in what will surely be one of the biggest personal disappointments of the year, if not the decade.

Please allow me to explain what happened. I was walking to work yesterday, a slightly wet but otherwise tolerable day in downtown Seattle. I was late (as usual) and had been held up at a crosswalk directly across from work, on the corner of 5th and Seneca. I stood, as I do every morning, frantically looking both ways for traffic while simultaneously dodging the gaze of an impatient boss peering out the window. Next to me stood a middle-aged man wearing a backpack and cap.

As I waited for the light to change, I saw across the street my coworker and friend Thong, a Vietnamese immigrant and fun guy to work with. As you can imagine, a name like that makes him a very good sport, and we all have a good time giving him a hard time. Running late himself and seeing me stuck, Thong began jogging toward the entrance, flailing wildly as if to mock me for being at the mercy of the automated traffic light. The following conversation took place immediately thereafter:

Guy next to me (referring to Thong): “F*cking faggot.”

Me: *silence*

Guy next to me (loudly): “God hates you!”

Me: *silence*

Guy next to me: “You’re going to hell.”

Me: *silence*

(The light changes. I head to work in awe.)

I am, without question, staunchly passive-aggressive, and I avoid major confrontation wherever possible. But this time a flood of comments and questions filled my head, each seemingly more urgent than the next:

“You know, that guy is married with a baby. What exactly led you to assume he’s gay?”

“You know that’s all bullshit, right?”

“You know, it’s people like you that make me irrationally hope for the abolishment of religion.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

So why didn’t I say anything? What made me so reticent to speak out against this delusional Fred Phelps wannabe? I loathe this ideology with every fiber of my being, yet I remained silent as he spewed his hateful rhetoric. I offer no excuse for my actions, only an apology.

In many ways, meeting this man was like meeting a unicorn or Santa Claus––they couldn’t ever exist until you were face to face with them. The worst part is that I feared him––not what he might do to me, which could easily have been violent, but his difference from me. He subscribes to a belief and lifestyle I can’t comprehend, and my silence represents the same hypocrisy by which people like him live. I realize now what I missed and what I’d do differently, and I hope this post serves as my catharsis. I owed it to myself.

Tags: homophobia

As the title indicates, I’m having a problem. And it’s not one of those problems that I’m sure is even a problem. It might be that I have simply created this problem in the absence of confirmation of an actual problem.

I call people “dear.”

And not just any people: women -- specifically female co-workers, friends and relatives. It hadn’t occurred to me that this word might be somehow offensive until I saw a twitter friend, Mignon Fogarty (a.k.a. Grammar Girl), describe an experience she had on the phone. It went something like this:

Mignon called a business of some sort and was speaking to a female employee about something. In the background she heard a male voice call the worker “honey” and quickly assumed that this was a sexist boss belittling his subordinate. In her tweet she derided this “pig” and proceeded to consider other possible scenarios (e.g., the business was small, and the male was the woman’s husband).

But this interaction, completely removed from me and my life, got me thinking. For whatever reason, I’ve begun calling female acquaintances “dear” without considering my reasons for doing so. These acquaintances aren’t always particularly dear to me, so I wonder: am I being subconsciously sexist?

Social scientists might say that I am, that I use the word only toward women to mark the difference between our genders, believing my gender, or group, to be superior, but I’m not so sure that’s the case. I question the difference between “dear” and other words like “honey” or “babe,” but words’ meanings change all the time, and I like to think there are other variables at work here.

What do you think? Is the word sexist? Should I remove it immediately from my vocabulary? Or is this an exception to other gender-specific disparagement in our society? Have I called you “dear”? Did it feel wrong?

Tags: words