"Happy New Year, Faggot!"

They say that the new year is a time to start fresh, but upon even a cursory shake of the head, one can see that the reality is just more of the same, one day later. So why do we insist on marking this day so outrageously? My theory is that we do this because we can't live easily without the concept of "new beginnings". Even though life is a running through-line, we do better with sudden starts than we do with slow builds. The interesting part of this for me is that sudden starts are rarely lasting or effective--it is the slow build that yields the greatest and longest lasting results.

Everyone is familiar with the idea of the New Year's resolution and its comical track record of failure. I gave up making resolutions for myself many years ago, remaining content with reviewing progress on the slow builds, and occasionally suggesting resolutions for others that would make my life better. One of the areas of slow build that I continue to monitor is how I deal with my own anger, particularly when it springs from the effect of others' narrow-mindedness. Since the world is still overwhelmingly narrow-minded, you can imagine that I have spent a lot of time in the anger zone, mostly to my own detriment. However, by attending to the slow build, I am happy to report that I am much better at responding to narrow-mindedness, and as a result I am less at the effect of such.

The key ingredient to my progress in this area is the strengthening of the idea that the majority of narrow-minded behaviors are not about me. They are, rather, all about the initiator, and I find that a better use of my time is to worry more about what my response will be, and less about whether the behavior is right, fair, or should be happening at all. Some times I am better at this than at other times, as you can imagine. That is called being human, not perfect.

For me, the importance of the slow build places a different emphasis on the significance of New Year's. Rather than looking forward at what I hope to do more and less of, I prefer to look back and review what I have done more and less of, and make mental adjustments as needed. This results in less self-criticism, and more appreciation. As I always say to my clients in the therapy room, the best way to know if you are making progress is to see if you behave differently around the same circumstances.

***
This New Year's Eve I had a couple of close friends over for a home-cooked "fancy" dinner, and we had a wonderful time. As a good host, I naturally provided horns and noisemakers to be used at the appointed hour to usher in the "new" year. Right before midnight, we huddled in the cold on my patio and prepared to unleash a sonic celebration, which we did at the stroke of midnight. We blew our horns, we cranked our noisemakers, we screamed "Happy New Year", and we reveled in the sound of near and far fireworks and similar celebrations. New Year's Eve is one of the few times when it seems that everyone is on the same page, and it is not entirely inappropriate or unwelcome to wish complete strangers a happy new year. What my friends and I got, however, was far from a welcome return greeting. Fifteen seconds into the new year, we heard someone from the apartment building across the street yell out the door. What he yelled was, "Happy New Year, faggot!"

Happy New Year.
Faggot.

If you are gay, and perhaps even if you are not, you know the toxic sting of that word, loaded with painful history as it is, and it is easy to think that in 2015 we are in a "post-faggot" world. Alas, this is not any more true than the idea that we are living in a "post-racial" world. And yet I do notice that as the voices of ignorance and hate get louder, they more closely resemble dying gasps than they do war cries. It does seem that when the oppressed are actively oppressed, there is little reason for the oppressor to defend or assert the oppression in the open. Lately, as the barriers to equal rights continue to fall, I hear dying gasps all around me. Funny, that classification does little to comfort me, all the same. Last night, when our celebration was pierced with the sound of homophobic ignorance, I saw red.

What I wanted to do was walk across the street and confront the young man who had made the offensive remark, and I wanted to do this in front of his family and ask them what could possibly make them think it was acceptable for this to be yelled out the front door. I wanted to ask them why they place so much emphasis on community in their own family and circle of friends, but find it okay to treat their longtime neighbor like an unwelcome stranger. I wanted to tell them that this was not to be repeated, and that they owed us an apology. I wanted to scream at them, slam my fist into their door, spit on their window, hurt them. But I did none of these things.

At one point, not five minutes into the new year, I found myself benefiting from the progress of the slow build. I realized that what I knew was that someone had yelled out their front door, and that they had used the word "faggot". What I didn't know was why they did this, or if it was directed at our group at all. I thought that perhaps our noisemaking had awakened this person, and that he had responded to that interruption; but it didn't matter what the story was, because whatever it was, it was not about me, and I was not interested in starting my new year off with a confrontation. Those who know me know that I am not one to shy away from conflict, but there is a difference between letting someone walk all over you, and stepping out of the way. The former is making someone's actions about yourself, the latter is making it about them. Stepping aside is not the same as lying down. My decision to not engage was a way to keep the power of choice in determining my experience. I choose not to ruin the evening by making someone else's bad behavior about me. The anger dissipated like a mist, and we went on to enjoy the rest of the evening, though not without some effect.

I am a faggot, I am a queer, I am attracted to men and have been for as long as I can remember. This is just how it is, and there are many more like me, and this is nothing new. Same sex attraction is not a "sin", and we are not ruining anything, and for those who continue to think this way, you are approaching the day when you will have to admit that your god is prejudice.

The world is always waiting right outside for us, in fact I never really forget this fact, and last night it didn't take 15 seconds for the world to remind us that it is "more of the same, one day later". But my friends and I made the choice to continue celebrating regardless, because we have much to celebrate, and because the slow build reminded me that I have a choice. Last night we chose to step aside, rather than taking the punch or turning the other cheek. It worked, but not like a magic charm--this is the real world after all, and I do have tears on my face as I write this.

But it's progress. The slow build continues. More than I can say for the young man across the street, who may have a long life of shattered illusions ahead of him. Let's hope--both for his sake and for mine.