How older LGBT adults feel about the word ‘queer’
ROBERT EMERY | Contributing Writer
LGBT adults, age 55-plus, represent the Stonewall generation. They are the AIDS generation. They fought — and died — to bring us every right and privilege our LGBTQ+ community enjoys today. They accomplished this within a hostile social and political environment. One of the most hurtful words used against this generation was “queer.” It was used as a verbal weapon to crush one’s spirit, often before a physical weapon was used to break one’s body.
The word was — and still is — used as a pejorative for members of the LGBTQ+ community. But AIDS activism was, in many ways, the impetus for the new use of the term. We recognize the hurt and trauma this word can trigger in those 55 and older. We also recognize the growing trend to reclaim the “Q” word as a modern badge of honor. Activists, academics, and individuals deploy the term to name a structural position: all that is deemed non-normative and excluded from social recognition.
The people who fall under this category change over time, but the structural position remains.
There will be no definitive answers provided here, only the perspectives of thoughtful people.
Dick Peeples, a 75-year-old retired attorney, recalls “queer” as having “awful connotations” and being a very hurtful slur. But, he adds, “I have grown to accept queer terminology as being proudly owned by younger generations. However, I choose not to use the word when I speak.”
Jane Rogers and Vicki Cooper, a long-married couple in their late 70s, say, “We are not comfortable with the Q word because we both remember the negative intent.”
Steve Atkinson and Ted Kincaid, both 60, are old enough to remember when the word “queer” was a highly derogatory slur. In a written statement, signed by both, they said, “Although we would not have chosen it to be used in a positive way, we are comfortable that it has been reclaimed and is now a label many in our community boldly embrace and proudly use.”
For many in this generation, it has always been a despised term because it was only used to denigrate, humiliate, attack and bully people.
Carl Parker, 71, a retired law firm administrator, understands that “it is not unusual for a malicious, disparaging term to be adopted by members of social justice movements [by younger people who have not experienced pain from its use] in an attempt to eliminate its power.”
But, he added, “I can support members of our community who are unwilling to accept that approach because of the abuse they experienced. I do not use it.”
But Carl’s Parker’s husband of 25 years feels differently. Jay Allison served as chair of the Department of Communication Studies at the University of North Texas, and he said, “I believe that when members of marginalized groups reclaim hurtful language, they assert power and resist oppression. I use it.”
Mike Anglin, a now-80-year-old early activist leader explained, “I have no problem with people using that term to identify themselves. My only objection is when it is used to identify the greater LGBT community. Terms such as ‘the queer community’ or ‘queer history’ or ‘queer politics’ I do not accept.
“I much prefer words that were never intended to hurt, such as ‘the Rainbow community,’ ” Anglin said.
In the recent AARP online event, “Our Voices Now: A Queer Dialogue,” panelists were invited to speak about their thoughts and personal relationship to the word “queer.”
Panelist D Magrini, director of external training for the Whitman- Walker Institute, said during that the discussion that issue thinks of the word “as being a unifier for the community and shorthand.”
But, she added, “I do worry about that shorthand creating erasure. So, I count how many times now I hear the word ‘lesbian’ or ‘gay’ or ‘bisexual,’ and I don’t want those words to be lost to us. They are important. They are words folks use to identify and call themselves home. And they have historical value as well.”
Mark Segal, a founding member of Gay Liberation Front and publisher of Philadelphia Gay News, recalls hearing the word “queer” in a negative connotation as a child when overhearing his father talk about his cousin. His cousin, who had been thrown out of the house by Segal’s uncle for being gay. He remembers being “this little boy … trying to figure out what did that word mean?”
Currently, Segal said, “For me, my name that I go by, my identity is gay man. And today I can say old gay man, which is how I like to be described. There is no masculine or feminine connected with that to me. And I don’t use the word queer, although I respect those who wish to use it, because it does erase gay men and lesbian women and takes away the visibility we fought for over the last 54 years.
“Gay to me spoke to me that we could be everything,” he continued. “I think ‘queer’ limits us to being different. I don’t think that I’m strange, abnormal, weird. In fact, I fought against the American Psychiatric Association to make sure that we are not considered abnormal.”
Nino Testa, 39, teaches queer studies at Texas Christian University. “We never want to call individual people a word they don’t use to describe themselves,” he said. “However, as a community, we need to be nimble enough to understand the intentions of others and make space for all of the words that are used.”
Roger Kennedy is a retired college English professor and an original Dallas gay activist from the mid-’70s who recalls how “the word ‘queer’ … brought out anger and defensiveness in many of us. But over the decades it has lost its bite for me. Now I see the word encompasses those who don’t want to be specifically LGBT-labeled.”
“To be queer is to rebel against compulsory heterosexuality,” declares Mike Matthews, a retired Tarrant County College English professor and dean of humanities. “To be called ‘queer’ used to be an insult, but now it is a compliment. The meaning of ‘queer’ continues to evolve and gives unique people a distinct and exceptional identification.”
Coach Maddox, 60, host of “The Authentic Gay Man” podcast, concurs: “When I was younger, the word made me cringe, but now I don’t have any issue with its use.”
He continued, “I love how our community has taken ownership of ‘queer.’ We’ve taken a derogatory word that was used against us and made it powerfully positive. BRAVO! I know that many of the older generation are not comfortable with it, but that will definitely change with time and new generations.”
Dustin Miller, 45, a vice president at the Dallas Arboretum, acknowledges, “The ‘Q’ word was never my preferred expression growing up, but now it is. It feels more inclusive of our community. It grabs the listener by the ears. It’s counterculture. It’s Pride. It’s me!”
Philip Wier, a 64-year-old writer, activist and advocate for peace, says, “As a child I was called ‘queer’ by unenlightened and insecure people who used the term to shame and demean me, and it stung every time I heard it. But when forward-thinking activists began to reclaim the word as a term of empowerment, our entire movement shifted forward and over time, I evolved along with it.
“Reclaiming ‘queer’ was a brilliant move,” Wier adds. “It took the power away from our bullies and erased the shame they intended us to feel. We redefined it as a term for being powerful, unapologetically unique and fabulous. Reclaiming ‘queer’ helped our community become more inclusive and equitable by welcoming those previously unrepresented by LGBT labels.”
Wier continues, “It expanded our rainbow. Reclaiming ‘queer’ has allowed many to heal, to self-actualize, and to be more authentic than they ever imagined possible. A simple, brave, and bold shift in how we manage our LGBTQ lexicon has paid huge dividends for our community and those who embrace it, and I am hopeful for future generations.”
TCU student Rylee Sweeny, agrees that “queer” provides an all-encompassing label for anyone outside of heteronormative society and all the binaries it brings along.
“Queer is a beautiful word to me,” Sweeny says, “and its presence within the LGBTQ+ community allows for a more inclusive environment for anyone who identifies as anything other than straight and/or cisgender.”
Louisiana State University doctoral Ph.D. candidate Seth Knievel, 29, feels “‘queer’ is an inclusive, flexible, and important term that allows individuals the freedom to explore themselves without the pressure of labels or expectations.”
Nino Testa, 39, concludes, “Queer is here and not going anywhere.”
Jane Rogers and Vicki Cooper , the longtime married couple, pivot, “We are impressed with this younger generation claiming the term “queer” as a positive identity.”
Queer historian Maigen Sullivan, 40, asserts, “Queerness as an identity signals I am not heterosexual, but it remains vague enough to offer mystery and distance from intimate details someone may or may not be privy to. ‘Queer’ says, ‘This is who I am, but it’s none of your business.’”
DR Mann Hanson, an entrepreneur and community organizer who is the founder of CineWilde Dallas and owner of Common Ground Games, concurs: “The trauma many experienced hearing that word should not prevent others from using it to empower their identity, while those using the ‘Q’ word should use it with compassion and caution so as not to re-traumatize others in our community.”
What is the consensus? There really is none. Still, let’s create a safe space for a new generation to express themselves in new ways, with new — and newly reclaimed — words.
It’s also essential to be aware how new language can potentially hurt family and friends from an earlier generation. Let us be kind and respectful to each other in the use of language to bridge the generations and strengthen unity.
This story is presented as part of the Out and Aging Series created by News Is Out and was made possible by support from AARP.