The Isis On: Pride (pt 1)

Leave Your Boyfriend to Hoover the House While You’re at the Pride Parade

 

It’s common courtesy: you wouldn’t bring your boss. Your Bible. Your gun. And it’s not that your gay friends are too sensitive. He doesn’t need to be at the picnic you didn’t think to bring paper cups and plates to. Or the Ibiza trip you agreed to before you met him and kept delaying because he was busy. The Christmas party at your best friend’s childhood home with the invite that specified ‘no plus ones’ due to limited space and food. And yet, there he is, drinking Mary’s margarita mix, lounging in the background of every photo on the holiday dump. He didn’t even buy you a Christmas gift, let alone anyone else. Still, he feels entitled to second helpings. So why is he always there?

 

Don’t misunderstand. We’re all happy that you found love. We understand that people have been giving you a hard time. Maybe you feel betrayed that your nearest and dearest aren’t giving your pookiebear a chance. The truth is he’s not that bad. He might even be ‘different from the others’, as you claim. It’s just the rules of showbiz: you wouldn’t bring your gun to the pride parade, because if you did, it would have to go off.

 

It’s a tough pill to swallow, but bringing your cisgender, straight boyfriend to pride events as a queer woman is a product of your failure to acknowledge the pre-existing power dynamics between men and women under the heteropatriarchy. It is, in part, a relinquishment of your identity, in favour of submission to the man. No, we know that he’s not actually the man in charge. He paints his nails and wears eyeliner. He has a copy of The Handmaid’s Tale in his Shakespeare and Co. tote bag. He carries the keys to your apartment on a Hello Kitty-themed, heart-shaped carabiner. He doesn’t play rugby. He has sisters!

 

Ultimately, it’s not a problem of sharing culture—pride isn’t about exclusion, but it is a celebration which highlights the importance of dedicated spaces and what they provide for underprivileged, undersupported communities. Your boyfriend can (and should!) learn about pride, and hopefully being with you and learning from your experiences is an accessible gateway into present and historical queer realities. Dialogues are important, especially when they are with people who are uninformed and open to being proven wrong. However… is that what pride is about? Educating those who have every resource readily available to them? Allowing them into spaces that have been specifically designed to accommodate those that have been marginalised by them?

To be frank, your boyfriend is grown. He has a phone and, if he’s a student here at Oxford, access to over 30 libraries. He’ll do well enough without throwing any bricks. It’s easy to fall victim to the misconception that pride is no longer a battle, but every day there are reversals in  hard-earned progress that bring us closer to the conditions that led to the Stonewall riots. Just a few years ago, activists were concerned with large corporations who were ‘rainbow-washing’—feigning alignment with the queer community by printing YASS and SLAY on some merchandise and upping the prices by 0.69% (naughty!)—but now the fear is that the tide has turned so drastically that we are not even advertisable anymore. We are seeing policies change all over the country, including in Oxford, ranging from mildly annoying (the gentrification of Plush) to genuinely alarming (the University announcing that they are ‘reviewing their policies’ in light of the EHRC’s new trans-exclusionary Code of Practice). We are increasingly forced to read the fine-print to know what to say, how to look, how to define ourselves to avoid danger. Your boyfriend can do his research and drink his matcha at home.

 

We understand, though. Sometimes it’s just disheartening to show up empty-handed. Here are just a few suggestions of what you could bring to the pride parade instead of your boyfriend:

 

• Temporary glitter tattoos to give all your friends tramp-stamps

• SPF 50+ sunscreen

• Samples of the newest Diptyque fragrance

• Water; if you really want to show up and show out, ice

• A Boombox (Tracy Chapman and Bruce Springsteen tapes not optional)

• A dozen disposable cameras you bought from Boots

• Your cool, unmarried aunt

• Your divorcée mother

• Pads; tampons; condoms; dental dams; lube

• The entirety of Merci’s Zodiac hand sanitiser collection

• Cowboy hat; bolo tie; fake moustache

• A fully handmade chainmail knight costume, designed by Ruskin students

• A plastic retractable sword (because nothing is more queer than contrast)

• Wear his baggiest jeans; comfortably fit all aforementioned items in the pockets

 

And, because it’s simply impossible to forget about him, here are some for what your boyfriend could be doing instead of coming to the pride parade:

 

• Hoovering the house

• Brushing the cats

• Actually trying the recommended recipes on the Tesco website

• Changing the sheets

• Taking up rock climbing

• Calling his divorcée mother

• Doing a medium-difficulty sudoku

• Donating to a LGBTQ+ charity

• Talking to you; asking you questions, real ones

• Moisturising

• Ironing his shirts

• Ironing your shirts

• Browsing JSTOR

• Restocking on toiletries

• Feeding the ducks at Port Meadow

• Kissing some boys (for research purposes; he seems like someone who would identify as a ‘hands-on learner’)

Words by Rüya Oral. Image courtesy of Chappell Roan on Instagram