The Agenda of “Queer”

A Pride Letter to the Jewish Community

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

The word “queer” (pronounced KWEE-uh) was ubiquitous in my Boston area high school.

An epithet to avoid attracting at all costs, it was always thrown with contempt and disgust. Its intended meanings included not only “gay” and “lesbian,” but also “feminist,” “loudmouth,” “nonconformist,” and “weirdo.”

I dreaded hearing it as I passed through the halls, but of course, I often did hear it. I mean, pretty much all those words apply to me.

My relationship to the word “queer” has changed over time, and I know that my own feelings about this label-slash-epithet-slash-banner-of-pride are not universally shared by everyone in the LGBTQ+ community.

More important to me than the word itself, however, is what it stands for, in its best possible sense: Queer, in the way I employ it, means different. Unlike the high schoolers who snickered or shouted whispered it at me, behind my back, I know in my mind, heart, and soul that different does not have to mean bad. By extension, normal (an antonym of sorts for “queer”) does not necessarily mean good. Or better. Technically, “normal” means statistically common.

I was eighteen years old when I first came out. A time in anyone’s life when being different evokes downright existential dread. I was in my mom’s…