My Complicated Feelings About Marvel or 'Why It Sucks to be Black, Gay, and Like Comics'

Flashback to October 15, 2015, when Axel Alonso, Editor in Chief of Marvel Comics, decided not to confirm or deny Angela and Sera's relationship or identities. This interview and Axel's non-stance was a slap in the face to many readers, especially those of us who are queer. It basically said Marvel's big Editor was not willing to throw us a bone, even though it's pretty explicit where Angela and Sera stand in the first issue of Angela: Queen of Hel. So, last night when Trump revealed that Marvel CEO Isaac Perlmutter had donated $1 million to "Donald Trump for Veterans," a sour taste was left in my mouth.

What I've noticed is that both Marvel and DC are on about a 2-year cycle with the bullshit. When one is doing better, the other fucks up. Unfortunately, what this has often meant that either PoC or queer people were being thrown under the bus. Essentially, I've found that it is becoming nigh impossible to be satisfied or completely comfortable with the comic industry as a Black gay man. DC has made some wonderful strides with queer representation, as Comicosity Senior Editor Matt Santori-Griffith has pointed out. Marvel, on the other hand, has introduced many leading series with women and PoC, though, as cited above, is shaky about them queers. Yet, after New 52, I found myself dissociating from DC because of the storytelling, though I admit they got better. And Marvel was doing great, until a couple of people opened their mouths.

This has lead many people to boycott Marvel, which makes absolute sense. Throughout these past few months, though, my dilemma has been: if I boycott someone for their stance on race or sexual orientation, what do I have left, besides less Ryan Murphy on my DVR? As someone wisely said on Twitter a couple of years ago, while the idea of moving to indie press and titles is understandable, some of us love superheroes. And I do. I love cape comics and many of the people within them. I've grown fond of many creators. So the thought of severing ties with Marvel, no matter how justified, is painful.

You could argue that I'm not doing much or that it's cowardly. That's kinda to be expected. However, that brings me to the second part of this: I don't think boycotts are effective. I think they help us on an individual level based on how we feel morally, but in our current capitalistic and economic climate, withholding our dollars seems to have much less effect. On the eve of Black History Month, that brings up a few issues. What about Rosa Parks and the Montgomery Bus Boycott? Well, when you consider there was a significant amount of upheaval and that the Montgomery bus system needed Black riders, and that was evident by the economic impact of the boycott. Marvel needs our dollars, too, but it is evident that with its ties to Disney, we may not do much damage. The same can be said for boycotting many other large companies or organizations. This does NOT mean people shouldn't boycott, or even that it isn't worth trying, but more that people's hands are in so many honey pots it's hard to ensure we could do enough to the economic system and structure of Marvel to create the change we seek. That said, I'm not above writing a letter asking for people's resignation.

So, acknowledging that I'm basically going to get screwed over no matter what, but also my view of boycotts, I'm not really sure what to do. I'm not at the point where I'm ready to give up reading comics, especially since Marvel has my attention, though I'll admit DC is gaining ground. I do think creating a voice to this dissent is important, and may have more potential than a boycott, a la Oscars So White. Trying to create an economic dent right now does not seem very likely or very easy, but you definitely have my support if boycott is your way to go. It makes sense and is totally justified. I just don't think it's the right choice for me, or even what I want to do. This also doesn't mean I'm going to stay silent.

What's important, no matter what you do, is to take up some kind of action that fits who you are. I've recognized over the years that my form of activism or advocacy works, but that I could also risk doing 'more.' My friend Ty brought up a great suggestion of talking directly (as much as you can) to Axel Alonso and other Marvel higher ups. You're no less a person for buying, you're no less a person for boycotting, and I have to remind myself of the same. This shit is complicated, especially when you bring in current economics, but my views on modern boycotts aside, that doesn't mean we are entirely helpless.

There are some awesome, intelligent, and rightfully peeved people discussing this issue with Marvel and its various complications. Please check them out. Most of all though? Find something that works for you in this entire debacle, whether it means no more work from the House of Ideas or thinning your pull list, or neither of those options.

The Cognitive Dissonance in Understanding Privilege: Why We Get Defensive When We're the 'Villain'

So at this point in social justice, we now have people derisively saying things like 'Social Justice Tumblr' or 'Twitter activists,' which point out problematic themes, just not the one of note for this post. Another major theme of this ongoing 'battle' between social justice activists or advocates of any ilk and those who disagree to varying degrees is people who also talk about privilege as though it doesn't exist. There's no doubt that this word leaves a bad taste in many people's mouths, some because it's 'overused' and others because they think it's a stupid concept. Regardless, there's a big reason behind this. We're too used to seeing things in essentialistic terms and, most of all, we're scared to use the mental energy it takes to process these distressful feelings and we take the easy, defensive, route.

Owning Up

I’m prejudiced, sexist, transphobic, and ableist. It’s high time I admitted that. It doesn’t mean that I don’t work to dismantle these ideas and make sure I’m not acting from them. What it does mean is that I can’t completely divorce myself from automatic assumptions.

It’s easy to think that people are racist or prejudiced and they don’t change. Once a racist always a racist, right? Well, I don’t think that’s the complete truth. In fact, I think we are all basically complicit in this system. We can hold ourselves accountable, but that doesn’t mean we get to view prejudice as something essentialistic. Maybe we need to realize the different ways we can be complicit in systems of oppression.

The short answer to the question, ‘Are you prejudiced?’ should be ‘Yes.’ Why? Well, if you’ve ever felt uncomfortable in the presence of a person of color, or judged people of a sexual minority, misgendered someone or made a remark about them based on their gender, you fit the bill. We don’t like to think this. We like to think that when we don’t do prejudiced things, like judge on the basis of color, gender, or ability, that we are not those things. While that may be true, it doesn’t take into account our automatic thoughts, which are often harder to change than our behaviors and have been ‘gifted’ from a society whose entire foundation is based on one form of oppression or another.

This means that we have to face a hard truth. While statistically I believe that there is someone out there who is not prejudiced and doesn’t exercise these systems of oppression, whether consciously or unconsciously, I’m not so naïve to think that we are like this from the start. As children we remain pretty innocent, but we also soak up these ideals like a sponge, outside of our awareness. By the time we are able to represent our world even symbolically, we’ve taken in the beliefs of our parents, many times to our detriment.

No one wants to feel racist or sexist or homophobic (or this may not actually be true…). No one wants to be called prejudiced. That’s because we all want to be good people, or if nothing else, seen as good people. But to think that we will suddenly arise at this point where we are absolutely, 100%, no longer working within any system of oppression is just shortsighted. We still have automatic thoughts, we still have gut feelings. Those things are what make us prejudiced.

However, it doesn’t mean that you should give up the ghost and go be a giant asshole. What it does mean that you have things to unpack and process. If you’re doing the work to challenge these assumptions, you’re working on being part of the solution.

Recognizing your complicity in oppression is the first step. To think that you’re a saint is misguided. We all struggle with our biases, even if we are genuinely working for justice and the rights of all people. Maybe the response to ‘You’re a bigot’ shouldn’t be a vehement denial followed by a laundry list of all the things you’ve done to help xyz group. Maybe, instead, it should be, ‘Oh shit. There’s something within me I need to address. How can I take this moment and learn from it?’

We like to believe the world is fine and just, but we can never forget that we are part of an oppressive society, sometimes to the extent that we help it thrive.

A Theist Imperative

One of the inevitable questions I get when I visit any family that is not my mother: Do you go to church? This is followed by a sterile 'No' on my end, and the also inevitable rebuttal: Well, you should go. I wish I was exaggerating about this.

The pressure to believe in God within my family is strong. It is assumed that I am lost without a church home, that I must go to church to ensure my salvation. If I believed in God, I would still tout that as a fallacy; I didn't like church when I was a believer because it just isn't necessary and I'd much rather spend my Sunday mornings in bed. Yet, the hold that Christianity has on Black people does not yield, and my family is one that is very religious. As time passes, I find myself struggling to assert my identity as an atheist, but also reconcile how I feel about supernatural life, especially as it pertains to any certain deity.

On Respect and Religion

Religion is something that is very important to many people. I value it because it affords psychological needs to those who otherwise might not have anything. Yet, it is not the only way those same needs, safety or belongingness, are met, nor is it something devoid of problems and impervious to criticism.

Marriage in Colors

In my pursuit of a Ph.D. in Counseling Psychology, there have been many important things I've been taught. Among them is the idea of our clients as holistic beings. It is easy to look at them through the scope of their issues, their culture, or many other factors. However, we do them a disservice when we their whole being as a function of only one part of their identity. We owe it to our clients to see them as a confluence of all the things around them and within them. Yet, this is exactly what I see in marriage equality and why I'm having a hard time just rejoicing. There is a lack of acknowledgement of issues within the marriage equality movement and issues that are concurrent with marriage equality, such as a lack of racial solidarity in the LGBT community and transgender rights.

Why I Find 'Butthurt' Offensive

'Butthurt' is a word I've never liked. I've seen it tossed around a lot and I can't shake the connections to anal rape or casting anal sex in a negative light. Though the statement can correspond to a number of sources of one's butt hurting (spanking, literal ass kicking, hemorrhoids), I find the two aforementioned connotations problematic enough to not use the word. 

However, the conversation surrounding the word is not so clear. Because of its less offensive connections, does that warrant the word's use? Are connections to the denigration of anal sex or anal rape considered 'reaching' (and on another note, is denigration a word I should exercise caution in using)? My initial reaction was that the word related to rape, but not everyone feels that way. Yet, many words are far different across people based on intention, context, and reception. 

I don't have to be called a nigger for something to be racist, and butthurt doesn't have to be used in a manner relating to violent nonconsensual sex for that connection to exist. Language is beautiful, but often tricky. While I can easily make those implicit assumptions, not everyone is going to be on board. Yet, my assumptions are valid and important simply because they are mine. That being said, debates about the offensiveness of words often miss a key component: a speaker's intention does not always equal the audience's reception.

Though I'd honestly like to abolish the word, I can't force people to be offended, nor can others disregard my feelings because they do not agree with how I perceive the word. This goes into territory regarding how to approach words. Yes, many are offensive, even typically innocent words like Oreo, apple, and banana. Yet, the context and underlying meaning, whether overt or not must be taken into consideration. I believe we should be deliberate about what we say and question what our words mean. This is a conversation we have to have about using the word 'gay' as a synonym for stupid; you may not overtly mean that being gay means being stupid, but the use of the word denotes the quality of 'gay' having an essence of 'stupidity', implying that with homosexuality comes a drop in or established low level of IQ (a dubious metric of intelligence at any rate).

There are going to be times when I disagree on why someone finds something offensive, but that gives me no right to invalidate their feelings. This also becomes tricky, because we get far too relative. Yet, we also just can't say that things are definitively offensive or not. So, where does this leave us?

Well, with me, it means that using butthurt around me is disrespectful because I find it offensive, my reasons be damned. In this case, it's not too much to ask for those close to me to refrain from usin it. Now, if this were another word, like homosexuality (re: Tennessee schools) then we'd have another issue, namely, finding a word that serves as an identity market offensive, thus implicitly stating that those with the identity are offensive. 

People say that if you look, you will find it. This quote often disregards the notion that often what you're looking for is there. Thus, we have my perception of the word butthurt. Considering the common context of the word (gamer circles), I don't think it's a stretch to assume the word is associated with rape or devaluing anal sex. Many gamers are known for homophobia and misogyny, and the emotional resonance of the word seems to imply something more painful than spanking. Also keep in mind that the word 'rape' is a common occurrence within this community too. These elements add up to a particularly unpleasant underlying meaning of the word 'butthurt'.

We may have this discussion forever about certain words. Because language is multifaceted, this conversation may not always be cut and dry. But, regardless how you see the word 'butthurt', my perception isn't far outside the realm of possibility, based on its potential and numerous meanings, the community in which it is used, and its usage. I'd rather you not use the word at all, but if you're going to, just don't around me.