Date: Tue, 10 May 94 00:51:50 -0400 Eastern From: deb.price@glib.org Homophobia is never in style for this hairdresser (copyright: The Detroit News, Feb. 25, 1994) By Deb Price Hairdresser Drew Andriani never knows when a stranger will take one look at him and make an anti-gay remark. He's used to the taunts, though. He's heard them since he was a long-haired 16-year-old living in California. Now a 26-year-old with hair well below his shoulders, Andriani refuses to allow anti-gay prejudice to pressure him into adopting a less conspicuous appearance. "I used to jog," he says. "I'd be jogging around and people would shout, 'Hey, get a haircut, faggot!' Just driving past me in the car. And I'd be like, 'How can you know my sexual orientation by me running down the street?'" Andriani and I became acquainted while he was giving my long hair a trim in a mall in Bethesda, a progressive pocket of Maryland. Even there, he says, he loses business when male walk-in customers flinch at the notion of being touched by a gay man. "They get this really weird look and then they're like 'I think I'd really prefer a woman to do this,'" Andriani explains. "That's a potential customer I've lost through nothing that I've said or done." Andriani never tells strangers that he's gay. For that matter, he never tells friends or relatives either. I can't quarrel with his reasoning even though I believe every gay person must begin to find ways to come out. Just one thing keeps Andriani from telling anyone he's gay: He's not. He's a heterosexual who knows from first-hand experience that homophobia doesn't just hurt gay people. To fully understand how our society's fear and hatred of homosexuality contrains the lives of everyone, we must see how very effectively it polices the appearance and behavior of heterosexuals. For example, anyone venturing beyond the territory primarily occupied by people of their own gender risks being attacked as gay. Just ask a male nurse, a boy on a middle school cheerleading squad or a female Marine. Since we gay people are the intended targets of homophobia, we tend to be more aware of its effects. (It's homophobia, much of it internal, that still makes me hesitate before I take Joyce's hand as we stroll that Bethesda mall. And it's homophobia that keeps same-sex heterosexual friends from walking hand-in-hand.) Heterosexuals need to see that eradicating homophobia is in everyone's self-interest, says Warren Blumenfeld, editor of "Homophobia: How We All Pay the Price." He compares encouraging such understanding to a Gloria Steinem speech he heard in the mid-1960s. "I was thinking," he recalls, "if she starts to call all the men in the audience sexist pigs, I'm not going to stay." Instead she helped him become a feminist by talking about how sexism affects everyone. Just as some men loosen sexism's grip on their lives, some heterosexuals are self-assured enough to follow their inclinations even at the risk of being called gay. Andriani, a hard rock guitarist, became a hairdresser because he enjoys being creative and needed a steady income. His long hair is a tribute to his rock heroes. He finds the anti-gay barbs directed at his hair particularly "stupid" since every gay man he's met had short hair. When straight men demand to know whether he's gay, Andriani responds, "So what if I was? If you were secure enough in your own heterosexuality, it wouldn't bother you." Homophobia costs many heterosexuals far more than the price Andriani is conscious of paying. Some are assaulted, even killed, after being mistaken for gay people. Others lose their jobs. Much more commonly, budding heterosexuals lose the emotional freedom to form close, same-sex friendships, Blumenfeld notes. And many succumb as teenagers to the pressure to "prove" they aren't gay, even at the cost of unwanted pregnancy or venereal disease. How different all our lives would be if we'd never fled from the possibility of being called homosexual. And how much freer our world will be when that label carries no sting for anyone.