All my life I have been referred to as “he, him, and his.” Such a designation is apropos being that I identify as a heterosexual male. My gender and orientation as provided me with a privilege where thinking about my identity and what to call myself has never been an issue – until now.
During my early adult years, when I was more ignorant and homophobic, it was crucial that I would not be confused with someone who is gay. My machista culture demanded of me hypermasculinity. I was taught to live according to toxic sexist principles, which I embraced with little, if no reservations.
But as I grew older, greyer, and hopefully a little wiser – I began to recognize my complicity with heterosexism and my irrational contempt towards my queer siblings. During the early two decades of the millennium, after my conversion from conservative eurocentric Christianity, I became a volunteer with the Human Rights Campaign Religion Council. Adding my voice with LGBTQI+ civil rights advocates was an opportunity for me to learn about the plight suffered by those on my margins and how I was and continued to be complicit with their repression.
The liberative faith I claimed and the humanity I shared with others meant that I must stand in solidarity with all who are grinded by the mechanisms of oppression – whether they be racial, sexual, economic, gendered, or ethnic exploitive social structures.
Several years ago, many who have not enjoyed my male heterosexual privilege began requesting that certain pronouns be used when they were being addressed. If the first act of liberation is the ability of naming yourself, then choosing one’s own pronouns becomes a momentous act of proclaiming one’s agency, one’s humanity. The very least I can do, the very least you can do, is to respect their request. It costs us nothing, it enriches them greatly.
During this time, I noticed on zoom calls or at the end of emails, people started listing their preferred pronouns. I though deeply of how I would response. After some thought I decided to attach at the end of my own emails the byline: “All pronouns used with respect are welcome.” Although most have referred to me as “he, him, his,” it really was not that important to me as to which pronouns was used for me. I really didn’t care.
Oh – the utter privilege of not having to care of an issue that is not important for me. But what is not important to me, is crucial for the liberation of those who have greatly suffered by being forced to live within the binary straightjacket of our society.
Unfortunately, as those who have been marginalized and disenfranchised began to taste the sweetness of liberation, the sanity of being themselves, the blessings of loving who they are and whom they want to love; others, accustom of imposing their worldview and deriving power from said worldview struck back.
Upon being sworn in as our 47th president, Donald Trump signed an executive order designating only two genders – male and female. For those of us for whom this is not an issue, we can express dismay, we can share disappointment, we can demonstrate empathy. All this I’m sure would be welcomed. But I wonder, what does my faith call me to do. What is demanded of me due to my humanity?
One of the praxis I hold to be true is the conviction of radical solidarity. The character of the God I claim to believe in is one who stands in solidarity with whomever is being oppressed – not because they are holier, but because they are marginalized.
Hence, for such a time as this, as my queer siblings are facing a government bent on their silencing, I must ask: how do I stand with them in radical solidarity. If Jesus is the least of these in the flesh, then Jesus – I believe – would choose the gender-neutral pronouns: “they, them, and theirs.” To declare being a disciple of this Jesus translates into imitating their radical solidarity.
Hence, for now, I made the decision of asking that my pronouns become “they, them, and theirs.” This becomes important to me because it is important to my queer siblings about to face the onslaught of a Trump Administration. As of today, this is how I will change my email byline.
Is it enough? Of course not. It is simply a symbolic act signifying solidarity. No doubt, over the next four years – if not longer – there will exists moments where my commitment to solidarity will be tested. I pray I do not faulter. Why? Because my apothegm which I will adopt for the next four years will be: ¡mi casa es su casa, su causa es mi causa!