Column: The Spiritual Legacy of Matthew Shepard

Pagan Perspectives

I had always been wary of strangers. Every gay child growing up in the 1970’s learned this important life skill. American culture was, and in many ways remains, openly antagonistic toward our kind; it made sure that we knew our place. I grew up hearing stories, often in hushed tones, about men who had been discovered to be limp-wristed fairies, and who were subsequently shunned, fired from their jobs, and forced to move away to start new lives as outcasts. But living near San Francisco meant that I had a certain level of protection from the harsh realities of a homophobic world, as this was the place many of those outcasts would journey in their search for acceptance.

Column: the Hope of Being “Queer”

Pagan Perspectives

“If that’s being queer, then we could do with a bit more queerness in these parts.”
― J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

In the alphabet soup of inclusion that has become the LGBTTQQIAAP movement – or LGBT+, for short – a common criticism is that the (constantly evolving) term is ugly and difficult to remember. What we have gained in terms of inclusion and numbers, we have lost in terms of a feeling of solidarity and community. Besides being difficult to remember (I’m sorry, I can never remember all the letters, and what order is preferred again?), the long initialism lacks a sense of poetry or cohesion, and therefore – magically speaking — it’s a poor thing indeed. This leaves us with a movement with no name, and as appealing that may be to some, it just doesn’t sit well with my Witch’s magical mind. To this, I feel there has been a poetic, if somewhat jarring, answer to this criticism that deserves another serious look: that is, the word “queer.”

Many people within the LGBT+ movement are understandably uncomfortable with the word “queer,” as it has been used as a slur against our people for generations.