How does homophobia impact men's friendships?
By Mason Slavner
Following our recent NGM Circle on the subject, NGM friend and volunteer Mason Slaver wrote this reflection on what ‘no homo’ represents to him, what the Circle had to say about touch isolation, and why he makes sure to say ‘I love you’ to all his male friends.
My friends are not like family to me, they are family.
Whenever I say goodbye to a friend on the phone, I say, ‘love you, bye!’ Quite a few of my male friends will hesitate for a moment, considering the appropriate response. Some say it back, others simply say, ‘see you later’ and hang up.
When I hear that, I can’t help but feel slightly dejected; most of my male friendships have barriers to closeness that don’t seem to exist among the rest of my community.
That’s why it was so important to me to host this month’s Next Gen Men Circle about male friendships and homophobia.
I was curious to hear everyone’s stories—how had their male friendships been affected by our socialization as guys? Was my experience the norm?
Turns out, I am definitely not alone.
One of our NGM volunteers shared his story with us. At around age 10, he told his neighbourhood friends how much he loved his male friends he had made at his new school; as a result he was labeled ‘gay’ for years afterwards.
And it’s not just displays of affection between men that can result in side-eyes, ridicule, or bullying. Approximation to anything considered too ‘feminine’ is also policed.
I have a visceral memory of using the word ‘yummy’ in grade 6, only to have my male friends ridicule me because apparently ‘yummy’ is too feminine. Needless to say, I deleted the word from my vocabulary for years.
We also talked about the idea of touch isolation.
As men and boys are socialized out of gentle physical contact, they experience very real, negative emotional repercussions.
As a result, sometimes platonic touch is so foreign to boys as they grow up that it does feel confusing or threatening when it happens. We also miss out on all the extra bonding, warmth, and love conveyed through gentle, platonic touch.
Moreover, how many opportunities to practice consent (‘can I hug you?’) do we miss out on because it’s not even part of our day-to-day experiences? How does this affect our friendships? How does it fail to prepare us for romantic relationships, for parenthood?
As a group, we recalled using the phrase ‘no homo’ as armour that allowed us to compliment and embrace one another free from stigma. Without it, we were vulnerable to attacks on our sexuality—and we all understood that being ‘gay’ meant being ‘less-than.’
When we addressed the impacts of the term ‘no homo,’ a phrase that was said struck me in particular: when cisgender or straight men hear the phrase ‘no homo’ or ‘that’s so gay,’ they hear ‘don’t do that’ but when queer or trans folks hear it, they might hear ‘don’t be that.’ The negative impacts of homophobia and transphobia on our 2SLGBTQ+ siblings’ sense of self-worth, mental health, and relationships cannot be overstated.
I saw our group nod in familiarity to these experiences. People shared that they were often on both the giving and receiving end of these chidings. Pressure to conform, to be included, often took over and the result was policing our own behaviour as well as the behaviour of our peers.
Yet things haven’t always been this way.
We may learn patriarchal masculinities at home and in the media, but it is us who police one another into the behaviours and language we use day-to-day.
But male platonic love was common in previous generations. We put together a slideshow of sepia photos containing men in vests and jackets, sporting bushy moustaches and cigars, sitting on one another’s laps, arm in arm or kissing each other’s cheeks. Some of our older participants said they had never heard the term ‘no homo’ growing up at all. This is reassuring to me.
If we grew into this, why can’t we grow out of it?
One participant shared that he was the only guy in gym class to sign up for dance (albeit not exactly by choice!). After serendipitously enjoying himself, ten of his male classmates were inspired enough to sign up for dance the following term.
Another participant shared that they did tap dance growing up, another shared that he had taken a course on braiding hair, and another that he often wears pink dress shirts to work. For myself, I was the only guy I knew growing up who did yoga and ceramics. I have also helped a number of male friends find therapists after sharing my own experience of seeking mental health support. I even say the word ‘yummy’ again from time to time. The more we break free of the ‘man box,’ the less restrictions will be placed on other boys and men, and the safer our 2SLGBTQ+ siblings will be to be themselves.
So now what?
The notion that certain activities, language or behaviours are ‘masculine’ or ‘feminine’ are socially constructed, which means they can also be deconstructed.
When asked what we can do about homophobia permeating male friendships, the message from the group was clear: model the behaviour and language you want in the world, to ‘give permission’ to folks that need a little nudge.
I have hope that we are moving towards kinder expressions of masculinity. I believe we are becoming closer, more open and vulnerable with one another in platonic male friendships. I will keep telling and showing my friends how much I care about them, and you should too.
Here’s to a future without boxes.
Love you, bye :)