Alphabet Soup

Being the professional queer that I am, I've been asked to do a presentation for a local organization. I'm used to speaking on many a topic and enjoy the opportunity to yip in front of others, so this request wasn't really a surprise. It's been a while since I've spoken on this topic, so I knew some preparation would be needed. In an effort to make sure I'm still at least a wee bit relevant, I decided to ask a younger co-worker for some input. Suffice it to say she is over a quarter of a century younger than me; thus, I thought she might be able to balance my potentially-severely outdated information.

After talking to her for only a few minutes, I realize: hot damn, I'm older than I thought. I'm still swimming through that alphabet soup that youngster poured on top of my head. I'm not sure I know what the hell she was talking about and I'm less confident about speaking in front of the group.

Me: "Hey, can I ask you a few questions? I'm doing a talk for [insert name of organization here] next week on working with the gay and lesbian population in the counseling setting."

[If you are wondering why I chose her to be my reference source, suffice it to say she has made it quite well known that she wants to work with the GLBTIQ-EIEIOetc community and she has a girlfriend. I figured that qualified her in some capacity.]

Alphabet Soup Grrrrl (now to be known as ASG): Looks VERY excited. "Sure!

Me: "I thought I better ask--I don't want to provide outdated information."

ASG: looks at me quizzically.  "Okay." She sits down at the table, all smiles.

Me: "I'm going to talk about provided counseling to the GL...GB....LGB....aw hell, I don't know the letters....you know what I mean."

ASG: "L-G-B-T-I-Q-A?"

Me: "Yeah, that sounds about right." (Long pause)  "I-Q-A?:

ASG: (tips head to side, seemingly to ponder if I'm teasing her or not): "Intersexed, questioning, asexual."

Me: "Oh!"  [I think to myself--I thought the "A" was for "ally." See what I know?"

ASG: "I refer to it as alphabet soup."

Me: "Well, that makes total sense to me. Alphabet soup. And, you? What letter are you in the soup?"

ASG: "I refer to myself as blind."

Me:  (stare at her. This is a new one on me. Please tell me the "B" stands for "bisexual," not blind because I do not know what the hell she is talking about.) "Blind?"

ASG: "I'm blind to all that. I'm blind to sexual orientation, gender, gender identity. I'm blind to labels."

Me: "Blind."

ASG: "Blind."

This leads to an in-depth discussion about things of which I've only seen on various tabloids or Oprah's network...she's babbling about pansexual, pansgendered, Cisgender, asexual, transgendered, omnigendered, omnisexual (which, as far as I can tell is the same or at least really close to meaning the same thing as pansexual), transexual, transvestite, blah blah blah. My head is spinning.

I'm still stuck on the fact that she calls herself blind.

I consider how this is a label to say she doesn't see labels, which is a label in itself. 

It then dawns on me. I can't resist asking: "Do you know who Melissa Etheridge is?"

ASG: "No." (silence as she's thinking) "Melissa who?"

Me: "What about the Indigo Girls?

ASG: (blank stare)

Me: "What kind of lesbian are you?"

As soon as I say this, I remember she is blind and has yet to identify herself to me as a lesbian. Even so, if she is sleeping with a woman, I think it's her obligation to know who Melissa Etheridge is.

Me: "Okay, so how did you meet your--er--the person you're dating?

ASG: "On match.com."

Me:  (Wow. I am old, old, old. Who knew you could find a same-sex date on a website?) "Not on a softball field?"

I crack myself up. She doesn't look quite as amused as I feel. I can tell I'm on the verge of insulting her.

ASG: "I play rugby."

Me: "Huh. Rugby. I've never played rugby.  (pause, consider the alphabet)  "I can't tell who's gay and not gay anymore. It used to be so easy. Now every girl on the planet has long hair and wears pony tails and has those headband things."

Try to explain this statement to a blind 25 year old. Try to explain stereotypes so they sound like an okay thing, not a horrible thing. I do a lousy job at doing this. The more I talk, the deeper the hole I dig.

Me: I decide to go old school. "Um, so does stone butch mean anything to you? What about bears? Do you know about bears?"

I can tell she is thinking about the Chicago Bears.

ASG: "Well, I have heard of butch and fem."

Me: (sigh. No, no, no. This is not where I was going and this is certainly not what I hope she thinks the old people are thinking about.) "Please tell me you know who Ellen DeGeneres is."

ASG: (gets a big smile--her face lights up) "I love Ellen!"

Thank god we have at least that much in common. I decide this is a very good place to stop.

I'm going to pray that my audience is filled with a bunch of old people, not blind people...unless they are blind-blind, as in really blind (like our dog). I have no prayer if a bunch of youngsters are staring at me.

If nothing else, I can dance like Ellen. Everyone--no matter their place in the alphabet soup--loves Ellen.

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P.S. I've got to get this girl to listen to Melissa Etheridge. It's my obligation to the community. I must save her from her certain doom.
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