But first, a message from our sponsor. Or something.I mentioned the GSA and its recent activity in yesterday's entry, and I got this great comment from Yvonne (which you can read in yesterday's comments); it included this question: "I have always wondered why some men feel very threatened by gay men."
This is the question, isn't it? Why would anyone care? Or, to look at it backwards, if some men care, why don't all of them? I have a theory, which I'm going to put forth here. I didn't at the meeting the other day, since it deals with an aspect of gender-preference the club does not talk about (sex), and anyway, I would want to discuss it with my co-advisors first. This is why I think some men are threatened by homosexuality.
I think it has to do with power and with sex. I think there are some men -- but obviously not all -- for whom the two issues are so closely tied that they cannot be separated, and for them, sex has a lot to do with being the more powerful member of the pair. In general -- but not always -- men are bigger and stronger than women, and so they do not see women as threats to their role as the more powerful one. When confronted with the notion that there could be a sexual relationship in which neither partner is inherently more powerful because they are both men, they are freaked out. (Whereas some of the same men are intrigued at the notion of a lesbian couple because they see both participants as less powerful, which makes the male observer the power-figure in the dynamic.) So, homosexuality -- just the fact that it exists -- threatens their masculinity because it is perceived as a threat to the man's role as the powerful one.
There are studies that show that men who are the most homophobic are often those with latent homosexual feelings; they react strongly because it is what they most fear to be true in themselves. I don't doubt that this is true in some cases. However, I think the most typical male homophobes simply feel that they are threatened as men because homosexuality represents an abstract threat to their power.
On the other hand, men who don't have this particular issue with power, for whatever reason, don't react in the same way. They don't feel personally threatened, so they don't find homosexuality threatening. These are the people who think "Gay. Oh, well, whatever" and who could care less. I'm not saying they're necessarily more secure in their masculinity -- who the f-- knows what makes anyone secure in anything -- just in this aspect of it.
I have never seen a study or an article or an anything on this. I've just speculated on it, having observed a whole lot of people over the last many years. It's my own personal theory, no more. Just putting it out there.
I have spent an unholy amount of time in cars with my children since 1981. When I'm restless, I go out somewhere, and when they were small, of course, they had no choice but to come with me. We had car rules, car toys (both theirs and mine), routines, plans. It follows naturally that they both learned to drive at the appropriate age, and in time, became the primary drivers of newly-purchased or acquired used cars, which the Hubs and I provided for them because I didn't want to be without my own car when they needed one. They've been driving since the age of 17, which is the age in New Jersey, so that's seven years now for R and four years for K. They drive, they drive wherever they need to go, they've got cars.
If I am going anywhere with them, however, they will not drive. They will drive each other around, and anyone else, but if I am going too, I have to drive. (The occasion for driving their father anywhere rarely comes up.) Now that R is about to buy her first car with her own money that will be in her name, and a car that is newer and in better shape than any other car we own, I can't help but wonder: Will she drive if I'm going to? Will she ask me to drive her car? What is this crap, anyway?
My mother began to learn to drive when I was about six. As I recall, my father yelled at her once while she was learning to park the car on a hill -- the Sibs and I were in the back seat -- and she refused to get behind the wheel again for a year. At that point, she had a friend teach her, and she got her license when I was seven. Two years later, my father got a new company car and she inherited the 55 Chevy so that she could begin her life as a suburban, driving mom. She wasn't a bad driver, and was comfortable with it. She got a new car in 66, by which time she had a full-time job she needed to get to. But after hours, going shopping or whatever, my sister was driving by then, and if the three of us went out anywhere, she drove. She wanted to, and Shirl was fine with it. When I got my license in 1970, by which time my sister was married, I became the primary driver. Shirl still drove herself everywhere -- and when she was enjoying a bipolar upswing, I mean everywhere and anywhere -- and I went as a passenger if we happened to be going in her car, but usually I drove her in my car if we were going someplace together. It seemed natural.
In later years, I also drove my father everywhere. He had been my primary driving teacher, and my mother's experience with him aside, he was outstanding at it. I did most of the driving around with my kids when they were learning; I wonder if that's why they won't drive with me as a passenger. Do they expect me to be critical? (I won't be.) A nervous passenger? (I control that as much as I can, and I'm very good at it.) Are they just freaking lazy and want me to do it so they won't have to? I'm taking bets.
So I'm curious to see if the dynamic changes when R gets a real car that she wants to drive everywhere, maybe even if I'm in it. Time will tell.
P.S. I have just been searching the basement for the Christmas tree ornaments and I can't find them anywhere. I may be seriously screwed here.
