First, this press release, whose title has a bit of a Beatlesesque, Lucy In The Sky resonance …
And, from Kevin Nance in the Chicago Sun-Times writing about “queer” and “faggot” …
In the past two decades, however, the two slurs have evolved in two distinctly different directions.
Today, “faggot” seems to have grown even more offensive, and to more people, than ever before. Ask “Grey’s Anatomy” star Isaiah Washington, who may have been fired this month partly for having repeatedly used the term in reference to a gay co-star. In what cynics viewed as an effort to save his job, Washington apologized, filmed public-service announcements and even went to rehab over the incident — a fact that Coulter was hamfistedly trying to lampoon in a way that sparked its own firestorm. She was chastised by Republican presidential candidates Rudy Giuliani and John McCain and dropped by several newspapers that had carried her column.
In fact, “faggot” shows signs of becoming the new N-word, an expression so taboo that in their reporting on the Coulter incident last winter, several big-city newspapers, including the Washington Post, declined to print the term itself; “anti-gay epithet” was a common euphemism. (Other papers, including the New York Times and the Chicago Sun-Times, elected to print the unexpurgated version.) In phone conversations and interviews related to this column, I’ve found myself avoiding using the word whenever possible, and worrying that co-workers sitting near me might be offended.
The F-word’s diminutive version, “fag,” carries slightly less sting. Coulter called Al Gore “a total fag” a year before the Edwards incident, with much less public reaction. And when Chicago White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen called Sun-Times columnist Jay Mariotti a “fag” last year, the consequences were relatively muted. “Completely unacceptable,” said commissioner Bud Selig, who nonetheless simply ordered Guillen to attend what seems to have been a perfunctory bit of “sensitivity training.”
In Coulter/Edwards and Guillen/Mariotti, by the way, the attackers later insisted that their words weren’t meant as references to their targets’ sexual orientation; Guillen says he meant to imply that Mariotti was a coward, and Coulter meant — well, who knows what she meant? Both explanations don’t entirely wash, however, because of how sexual identity and gender are so closely bound, and confused with each other, in the public mind.
“Gender is about sex roles, and when you call a heterosexual man a faggot or a sissy, you’re attacking his masculinity — accusing him of doing something that doesn’t conform to traditional masculine sex roles,” explains Gregory Ward, a linguist at Northwestern University. “Gay men have been thought of the same way, and there’s a conflation of the two that people exploit in their choice of words.”
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While “faggot” has plummeted in the American lexicon in recent years, “queer” is a rising star. Still a sore spot for some — especially gay men and lesbians in their 40s and older, people who remember the Q-word being hurled at them like verbal Molotov cocktails — “queer,” like Isaiah Washington, has gone to rehab.
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“There was a lot of reaction and resistance to the term,” recalls Stuart Michaels, assistant director of the Center for Gender Studies at the University of Chicago. When he would use the phrase “queer studies” — referring to research into the intertwined ways society views traditional gender roles and sexual identity — “even some of my students would look a little bit surprised,” Michaels recalls. “Queer was taking a term of denigration against people who were not considered ‘normal,’ then recuperating and transforming it into a term of something between neutral and pride.”
Today, he says, the word isn’t used just in academic or politically radical contexts. “It’s more generic now, especially among young people.”
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Context is crucial, of course. ” ‘Queer’ still carries a lot of social power, a lot of charge,” Ward says. “It retains some of its old transgressive quality, and it can still be a derogatory epithet. Kids yelling ‘queer!’ out of a car when you’re walking down Halsted Street — them’s fightin’ words. In that context, the distance between ‘faggot’ and ‘queer’ is quite small.”
But if “queer” retains its power to hurt in certain settings, that capacity now co-exists with a range of desirable meanings. As public attitudes toward homosexuality have liberalized and gays and lesbians have become more assimilated into mainstream culture in recent years, gay activism — once so loud and angry — has toned itself down considerably, so much so that many young gays are hardly aware it exists. But “queer” still carries a whiff of those heady, clenched-fist days, and it confers on those who use it an edgy, urban quality that goes nicely with snug jeans and a strategically placed facial piercing or two.
The word has proved handy, too, as an umbrella term for the various groups existing outside the heterosexual norm: gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered people, of course, but also “questioning” folk and those of ambiguous sexuality and/or gender. Instead of using the cumbersome alphabet soup of “LGBT,” you can just say “queer” and have everybody covered.
None of which applies to “faggot.” You will never, as Michaels points out, find a “faggot studies” department at any university. Nor would “Faggot Eye for the Straight Guy” ever have made it to public access, much less a major network. “We’re here, we’re faggots, get used it”? Certainly not, and anyway, it doesn’t rhyme.
Faggot vs. queer