strawberries & cigarettes

For those of you who don’t know, Becky Albertalli is the author of the book Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, which was turned into the sweet teen romcom Love, Simon. She also wrote the spin-off book Leah on the Offbeat, about Simon’s friend Leah, who is bisexual. Albertalli has been the target of a lot of criticism: people (queer people) saying that she was writing for straight people, that her stories are invalid because she identified as straight, saying that she was fetishising mlm and playing for diversity points. In the article linked above, she addresses these accusations by coming out as bisexual.

This is not bravery, and I’m not going to congratulate her, because this is horrifying. She was cornered into this situation, essentially forced to out herself as self defence against accusations that must have been hurtful to deal with, and (as she explains) hindered her progress in understanding her own identity. She has been made to come out as a justification for the stories she has written (uplifting, kind stories), and she is honestly owed an apology.

The Own Voices movement is really important. There is value and significance in stories about marginalised people being told by marginalised people. I’ve said before that queer readers deserve queer stories written by queer authors - but that isn’t mutually exclusive with the idea that closeted and questioning authors shouldn’t be forced into coming out to validate their stories.

Aren’t queer, questioning and closeted people allowed to use writing to explore their identities? Don’t they get the chance to learn about themselves through their writing? Apparently you need to be 100% sure of your own identity before you put pen to paper.

Of course, the fetishisation of mlm in fiction is a very real issue. But that is the realm of erotica, not of a YA book about a gay kid coming out and finding first love. Not all representation is fetishisation: even if Becky Albertalli were a straight woman (she’s not), her book still wouldn’t be fetishisation. If a story is told with respect and care, it shouldn’t matter what the identity of the author is.

None of this even addresses the supremacy of mlm narratives in media, and how they are often the first way that wlw are able to engage with queerness in a way they find safe and easy. Many wlw deal with internalised homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality which leads to them feeling disconnected from representations of their own relationships and bodies - many wlw use mlm characters and narratives to help themselves work through those complex and shame-filled emotions.

favorite movies: 1/? 

You are still you, Simon. You are still the same son who I love to tease and who your father depends on for just about everything. And you’re the same brother who always complements his sister on her food, even when it sucks. You get to exhale now, Simon. You get to be more you than you have been in… in a very long time.

The first line. Right out of the gate. “How long have you known?” Not, “how long have you been…you know…”, “how long have you known.” This is coming from a character we have seen (unintentionally, but still) commit homophobic microaggressions on screen at least twice now with many more implied, that difference is important.

Then when Simon answers, his response emphasizes the time they spent together when he didn’t know (Four years eating dinner together). I was sure, I was so sure his next line was going to be “why didn’t you tell me”. Because that’s how it goes right? The onus is always on the queer person, it’s always down to us. But that’s not what he says. He says “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have missed it.”

I don’t think I can put into words what hearing an apology in that moment did to me. I really can’t, I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing for a second. And then he says “All those stupid jokes…”

He is taking responsibility for his actions. He is acknowledging that he was wrong and he is apologizing for the hurt he, however unknowingly, caused his son. This is so rare. Because the key here is, not only is this a father-son relationship, which is always more difficult because men in our society have been conditioned to never be “touchy-feely”, it’s also a parent-child relationship. 

Simon is still a teenager. His father has spent 17 years being the one responsible for Simon’s care; at this point the parent is the one in the equation where the majority of power still sits. For a parent to acknowledge to a child who is still not fully an adult that they were wrong, especially when it’s a father when men are conditioned to never give ground or “show weakness” over things like this, just. It doesn’t happen.

And even when Simon gives him an out he refuses to take it. Then he makes sure Simon knows that he is loved unconditionally, and reinforces it with physical affection. And it’s not a Manly Shoulder Pat either, this is a proper full-body hug followed by a kiss on the cheek.

And after a moment of awkwardness, he actively reaches out and shows interest in engaging in the queer aspect of Simon’s life by offering to sign up to Grindr together. He’s gotten it wrong (in the most adorably dad way possible), but the point is he made the effort. He didn’t just leave it at letting Simon know he loves him, he recognized that this is an on-going presence in his child’s life and he commits to continuously being involved with and acknowledging this aspect of his son.

I am someone who has Simon’s life. I am from an upper-middle class white family with two liberal straight parents who were high school sweethearts, and I have one younger sibling. My first car was even a used Subaru station wagon, I could not make this up. This is the moment I wish I could have with my parents. 

They knew/suspected I was queer for years before I finally came out to them, but they didn’t know what to do with asexuality. They were fully prepared for me to be a lesbian and I still managed to blindside them. It was completely unexpected and they hadn’t heard of it so they didn’t know what to do about it. And we are the pinnacle of a WASP stereotype, so all of us suck at talking about our feelings. So while my parents never rejected me, they never tried to “fix” me, and they don’t really drop hints about me “settling down one day”, they also never talk about it with me. I assume because they don’t know how to and they don’t want to misstep.

We will have entire conversations about queer issues with no acknowledgement whatsoever that I am part of the group that issue pertains to. They have never tried to talk to me about what asexuality is, asked me to explain it, or asked about how to be involved in that aspect of my life. Which is unusual for them, both have always taken an active interest in both of their children’s activities. And there’s only so many times I can be the one to talk about the elephant in the room because it’s fucking exhausting. 

wardrobe appreciation  »  Simon Spier (Love, Simon)

“Maybe he’s gay,” Garret whispers.

- Leah on the Offbeat