My Story Of Coming Out

MY story Of Coming Out

…doesn't really exist.

The closest thing to a coming out story I have to share is when I named my business Queer Chocolatier, which I’ll tell more of here in a moment.

Instead, I’ll share what it was like for me as a queer woman before being a queer businesswoman.

But, just before that, I want to stress that it is never incumbent upon anyone to have to come out, even on a day like today: National Coming Out Day.

The most important thing is your safety and if you would come into any immediate harm (i.e. physical violence, mental or emotional abuse, homelessness), weigh those risks carefully before deciding to come out. Maybe you decide to wait until those risks are minimized. Maybe you decide to live your most authentic life despite those risks and come out in spite of it all. Maybe, like many people, it is an ongoing process of sharing part of yourself to certain people in your life. Whatever the case may be, you’re no less queer and we need you in this world.

You’re in charge of your own story.

I never came out, or at least I don’t think i did?

From my experience growing up, I didn’t see a lot of examples of what relationships were like. My mom was a single parent who had me just a couple months before her twentieth birthday, her parents were divorced when I was three years old, and I am an only child so I didn’t have older siblings going out on dates. My uncle is married to a woman but they lived far away when I was a child. My aunt was not married but had friends with her when she would visit my grandpa's house and no one told me what that meant.

I didn’t know what it meant to be queer. Or straight. Or to have any attraction to people.

The only message I'd received was from my grandpa who said, upon my leaving the house to go out with friends, “Don’t get pregnant.” Mostly as a joke I’m sure, but also as a warning about what my future would be like if I were to become pregnant. I’d internalized the message, though, as “Don’t end up like your mother.” So, I never dated or kissed anyone throughout my entire teenaged years.

I do remember my first crush being on a boy in my class in high school. I remember simultaneously having my first celebrity crush on Shirley Manson of Garbage. I definitely had a bigger crush on her than the high school boy. I still crush on her, to be honest!

But, all throughout high school and middle school before that, I was teased pretty aggressively about how well I performed gender roles and fit into the screenplay of heteronormativity. In the hallway as I stood by my locker, kids would ask me whether I was a boy or a girl and snicker while inquiring. I suppose wearing baggy, threadworn clothing and having tangled, greasy hair made them more curious about my gender than my poverty and whether we had hot water at home to wash clothes or take a shower.

The living room of our trailer was also my bedroom from age 11-18.

This teasing came from my mother as well, but perhaps not in an expected way; she really pushed me to be a “tomboy" and had said on rare occasion that “raising a boy is easier than raising a girl,” (which, in my own view now, is less a commentary on what gender is easier to raise as much as there are more restrictions and boundaries to place on girls as they grow up). When a music teacher in middle school asked me to try out for choir, my mother’s primary concern was that I would have to wear a skirt and that would be “too girly.”

It's moments like these that painfully come right to the surface whenever I meet people now who knew me when I was younger and they say with self-satisfaction “I knew you were gay! I knew before you knew!”

But I’m not gay.

The overwhelming majority of my relationships and “relationships” have been with women. But I have also been attracted to people who are not women. To that end, I call myself bisexual

But, more accurately, I’m not particularly attracted to anyone unless I have a meaningful connection with that person. I’ve recently learned that this is called demisexual. As having grown up with no one expressing romantic or physical interest in me, it feels like I somehow developed in such a way as to prioritize my connections with people before becoming intimate with people. Maybe out of insecurity or out of protection or both.

There have been exceptions to this rule, sure, but I never had a relationship in which the other person didn’t express interest in me first, whatever their gender.

I never came out, however this is defined, as bisexual until anyone shot their shot. Essentially, the only people who ever really knew my sexuality for the vast majority of my life were the people I was having sex with.

At various points throughout my working career, a coworker here and there would tell me they were gay or lesbian and I would be appreciative of their telling me their story, but since I wasn’t dating anyone whenever these conversations came up, I never reciprocated about me. Plus, I figured why make their story about me in that moment? Perhaps it could have built a better friendship, but it never felt right because responding with “Cool, I’m bi!” while not dating (even though that’s a smidgen of bierasure of myself at that time).

Leaving Indiana

My first serious relationship was when I was 30. Earlier here, I'd shared that I had no relationships in my teenaged years, but my 20s was largely void of relationships as well, except for my early 20s while in college. When I was a 30 y/o graduate student, I started dating a woman who self-identified as stone butch and occasionally discussed her gender identity and expression as “steampunk.” I didn't hide my relationship but I would only discuss it whenever it came up in the course of conversation. The relationship was not healthy, so my lack of broadcasting my relationship was less shame-driven due to my sexuality as it was that I was really unhappy and unsure of how to get out of my situation.

It took graduating, the lease of our shared apartment ending, and moving to Pennsylvania after three months of couchsurfing for me to not only get out of that relationship but to start to emerge a bit more boldly about who I am and start over with no baggage to bring along with me.

When I left PA a year later, I was moving to Austin, Texas and starting a new relationship with a woman. The friends I made in ATX knew I was queer, but my coworkers at the as-you-may-have-guessed fairly conservative Texas Department of Agriculture didn't know until things in my relationship got bad and I’d be crying in my office. They cared about me and my well-being more than whether or not I was queer. I reflect upon their kindness quite often and miss them and Texas quite a bit. Surprisingly to some, in all my life leading up to that point, Texas was the place I’d felt safest in being more open with people about who I am.

getting married + coming out as Queer Chocolatier

When Cheri and I started dating in the fall of 2015 and got married soon after, this was not only the most open I had been about my sexuality but also the most actively political about it. Looking back on my trajectory, I can see that it took a combination of my own maturity and independence as well as a strong partner and a purpose for me to be able to live authentically.

Purpose came when the 2016 election yielded its results.

Cheri and I were traveling in the weeks before and after Election Day and we were in Austin on the way to the Davis Mountains in west Texas when we heard the news. The mood was bleak in Austin, and Cheri and I were glad to be heading to mountains and relative isolation to mentally and emotionally process. We understood that things were going to be tougher for queer people with the new administration.

Less than a year later, I launched Queer Chocolatier.

I was nervous about how I would be received in terms of both time (in the era of the current administration) and place (Muncie, Indiana).

Truly, this was as big of a coming out moment as I could imagine having. And I'm grateful for all the love and community I have found since coming out as a queer businesswoman! Being visible worked for me in this way and in this moment. Every moment that I step further out into the community to take up more space more visibly, the more that energy comes back to me and it builds upward and upward. From having a small table at farmers markets for people to come tell me their stories or to ask me questions on how to support those they love who are queer or trans to having a queer sober space at the Chocolate House where people would come on dates or young queer teens would bring their parents, the momentum just sweeps me up to do more and say more.

But in case it isn’t clear, let me say this:

My name is Morgan Roddy. I use she/her/hers pronouns. I'm queer and I sell chocolate. And I wish you a Happy and Proud National Coming Out Day, however you choose to celebrate it!

Thoughts on Pride from a Queer Chocolatier

Thoughts on Pride from a Queer Chocolatier

In the forty-nine years between the Stonewall Riots and today, the LGBTQIA2+ community has experienced wave upon wave of changes, from new letters of identities being included in our community acronym to the SCOTUS ruling in 2015 that same-sex marriage be federally recognized and from a reboot of Queer Eye and to black and brown stripes being sewn into the rainbow flag.

The month-long celebration of our queerness and trans*-ness in the heat of June sunshine has also changed from its inception. Some of the changes render Pride celebrations hardly recognizable from the early riots, yet much of the emotional outlets and connections remain as true to message as ever: “We’re Here! We’re Queer!”

My wife and I have attended three Pride marches in two states in the last three years. We weren’t married during the first year we marched alongside one another under the brutal Indiana summer sun but, again thanks to SCOTUS, we wed later that same year. Indy Pride was extraordinary that year due to the outpouring of support in the face of the passing of RFRA--Religious Freedom Restoration Act--which was a blatant attempt to codify statewide discrimination against queer and trans* folx.

Hoosiers showed up in large numbers to surround us with love.

Cheri and I, before we were married, marching with Indy Feminists in the Indy Pride Parade in June 2015.

Living in Minneapolis for our first year of marriage allowed us to attend the Twin Cities Pride celebrations and, although we knew that it was the third-largest Pride parade outside of San Francisco and New York, we were in awe. It was truly a massive crush of humanity.

We relished in our open celebration of our love in a city that seems beyond accepting of queer folx.

My wife and I sharing a Pride-ful kiss at Twin Cities Pride in 2016.

Last year, my wife and I moved back to Muncie, Indiana and our small cadre of queer friends all attended Indy Pride together. Our group has folx ranging in age from 20s to 50s and Pride means different things to us individually as much as generationally. This was also the first Pride where I got to meet up with my aunt and her own queer crew.

Our return to Indy Pride in 2017, without marching in the parade this time.

Queer Chocolatier's First Pride

Queer Chocolatier first became #outandopenforbusiness last August, so this is the first Pride month for the business. As such, Cheri and I put lots of thought into how we want to celebrate the month with chocolate and transparency.

For the month of June--for Pride--I am going to return to my roots and celebrate this month with my Bittersweet Truffles. No rainbow truffles or glitter from Queer Chocolatier.

Bittersweet Truffles represent not only my beginnings as a chocolatier, but they represent pride in the quality of what I offer you as well as serving as a metaphor for the complicated feelings I have about Pride celebrations: 

I am simultaneously critical of and hopeful for Pride.

Pride Critiques

As Pride has grown even more flashy and colorful, it still remains overwhelmingly white, racially-speaking. Recent Pride events across the nation also have increased their rapidly-growing corporate and police presence.

In part, this can be explained because of the organizing bodies that put the work into coordinating Pride events are also mostly white. Observing this isn't meant to be callous; it is a feat to put together such events but the amount of labor, including emotional labor, must be absolutely draining. For someone who is of lower income, or not able-bodied, or of an ethnic or racial minority, such labor may be simply too much to add to their own daily struggles of societal navigation.

In many instances, it is easy to see how today's version of Pride lacks resonance with queer and/or trans* persons of color as well as younger folx. QTPOC are more likely to have negative encounters with law enforcement than white queer and/or trans* folx. And, broadly speaking, our queer and/or trans* youth are savvy and critical of capitalism and conspicuous consumerism in a way that older generations are not. Both QTPOC and younger queer and trans* folx are at greater risk of economic, physical, and mental harm.

QTPOC

When the 2017 Columbus, Ohio Pride parade was blocked by Black Lives Matter protesters who were bringing to light the violence that QTPOC experience, some white organizers and participants were irate that the space was no longer made comfortable for them. Not only were they irate, they aggressively pursued charges against the Black Pride 4, thereby shining a harsh spotlight on the growing chasm between the middle-class white cis queers and QTPOC. There was a stark division on display during this parade and later at the Twin Cities parade, where protesters were quickly mobilized after the acquittal of the officer who killed Philando Castile; it is shameful that cities that have shown a lot of acceptance with queerness have not put in the labor to be as racially and ethnically inclusive.

It is especially shameful that this division is within our own house. Particularly as we owe Sylvia and Marsha a great debt for the roots of our month of celebration but we also demonstrate that we would likely kick them out of "our" space were they with us today. Pride organizers can and must do more to pass the mic and be inclusive.

Queer and/or Trans* Youth

A segment of our queer youth lack a connection with Pride because they haven't directly witnessed some of the ugly historic events firsthand.  Possibly this could be a consequence of the success of society's acceptance of queer and trans* people. But I suspect our queer and trans* youth is sometimes leery of Pride because in part of the pervasive "Rainbow Marketing" corporatization and commercialization of the events.

For the longest time, queer and trans* folx weren't seen as market-worthy. More frequently, we were discriminated against before we even could show that some of us had money to spend; folx would have to remain in the closet when banking or purchasing a home or applying for work. Some still do since there are too many states that still have no legal protections for queer and/or trans* persons. When Pride parades are filled with corporate sponsors and employers touting their diverse workforce, some older queer and/or trans* people see this as progress because they remember a time that corporations willfully forgot that green ($$$) was a color in the rainbow.

However, the youth in our marginalized community are often crushed under the wheel of society's venomous "religious liberty" laws and are more concerned with finding a safe place to call home rather than which company is courting them for their disposable income. Our youth are still suffering from violent bullying, mental health issues, and lack of stability at home or work once they enter the job market. It is shallow to be excited over the next rainbow flavored or colored widget to buy when LGBTQIA2+ youth are 120% more likely to experience homelessness versus others.

These overlapping issues of race and class must be addressed in order for Pride to remain inclusive, relevant, and courageous. 

Pride Praise

Pride is not without bright and shining moments that are praiseworthy. As an effort to listen to and address the concerns of QTPOC, some cities such as Minneapolis and Edmonton, Canada are adopting a policy that uniformed police officers are not allowed at the Pride events but police officers can instead participate out of uniform as members of the community. Whether this will fully tackle the dynamic between law enforcement and marginalized communities is not the question, but the steps taken in engaging with the community on their terms will hopefully bear fruit to show how we can reclaim our spaces.

Again, it cannot be overstated that Pride began as a riotous demonstration of visibility, dignity, and liberty. 

As such, we cannot remain complacent in simply partying and shopping our way to full equality and justice in society. To that point, Anthony Niedwecki wrote in his piece in The Advocate earlier this month, "As we again feel that same boot of oppression crushing down on us and other minority communities, it is time for us to once again use our collective might in active defense of justice and equality." Pride, out of necessity, must be a political event and we need to do all we can collectively to engage one another so that we can more fully resist the oppression of dominant groups.

One way that folx are making a political statement is to throw Queerbomb events rather than participate in the mainstream Pride parades. Queerbomb Austin, for example, turns to crowdfunding instead of courting corporations for money to celebrate their queerness on their own terms, with promoting speakers such as a queer deaf community activist and sex workers' rights activists in 2018. In contrast, Pride events have arguably pursued palatability rather than authenticity. 

I hope Pride can reclaim some of its defiant glory.

But perhaps out of some small measure of defiance, several communities throughout the country organized their first Pride events for 2018. Rural spaces and small towns often are challenging places for queer and/or trans* folx to be visible and free. When communities come together to launch their own Pride parade, without the flash and slick advertising found in LGBTQIA2+ meccas, the main thing on display is courage. Columbus, IN, home of the (in)famous Mike Pence, celebrated Pride in April of 2018 based on the hard work and organization of a bisexual high school student. Southern Illinois is also having its first Pride event this year, with much of its efforts on supporting the rural LGBTQ youth who struggle with isolation and rejection more than their counterparts throughout the country.

DIY Pride events aren't limited to small towns throwing their first celebration. The National Women's Soccer League recognizes Pride as a meaningful event for its players and fans, however, one team regularly holds out. The Washington Spirit owner, Bill Lynch, is a person who holds conservative political views and projects them regularly over his team and its operations, in ways that include not only dismissing Pride events but also in thwarting visiting team's star Megan Rapinoe's national anthem protest by unilaterally deciding to play the anthem while both soccer clubs were in their locker rooms. As a result, fans create their own Pride Night events as a way to push back against an owner of a club they feel doesn't represent their voice.

Still Proud

When queer and trans folx have adversity to face, we can galvanize to push back and boldly make a statement. But, when we have reached a certain level of "tolerance" or "acceptance" from society, we tend to forget that while some of our struggles have lessened, others in our family are still at risk of great harm. 

As a businessqueer, I am proud of being visible but I recognize it isn't easy for all of us to be so. Founding Queer Chocolatier has given me a platform. For others, Pride may be their platform and for others still, there may not be a platform to be had.

For me, to remember the current challenges and risks faced by the most marginalized in our community is also to remember the recent and historical struggles our community faced. Our liberation must be for our most vulnerable. 

We need to continue to remember our roots. We need to return to our basics. We need to return to unapologetic love. And I can do that while still being proud.

---

Let me know how you feel about Pride, our community, and Queer Chocolatier. What would you want to see from our business to stand in solidarity with queer and/or trans* folx in our community?

And let me know how you would like to join me in solidarity. Because Pride is about all of us and it is political. And we can't make it in this world without each other.

Cake, Christ, Court, and Country: A Series of Short, Open Letters by a Queer Chocolatier

Dear Charlie and Dave,

Congratulations on your wedding! What a beautiful occasion to celebrate your love with the most special human on earth! Your love must be incredibly enduring to hold your bond so fast, especially with such events that have lingered since your nuptials. 

Within the last two years, my wife and I got married as well! We went very cheap, simple, and small for our ceremony, but we intend to have a grander celebration in the coming years. We both love cake. And I will speak for both of us (and the larger LGBTQIA2+ community) and say "thank you" for helping us weed out bakers that we won't need to patron!

You see, we all deserve the best. I'm guessing that you visited Masterpiece Cakeshop under the impression that it was of high-quality. I'm sorry that instead of getting high-quality you got high court.

To me, as a queer woman who owns a small business, transparency has been paramount to my operations. My customers know who I am to the core. They know they will also receive an outstanding product. I truly wish that transparency was how everyone and every business operated, but I'm shouting at the wind with such a wish. Maybe my transparency model will catch on through example rather than wish.

But, to the point, no one deserves to be discriminated against, especially during a time of celebration and a moment that will imprint itself on your memory until twilight.  Your case not only represents many queer and/or trans* folk, but it represents a large percentage of the frayed and worn social fabric of our nation. At least the patches that are not square, white, male, cisgendered, heterosexual, and claim Christianity as their faith regardless of their misinterpretations of Christ's words and deeds. As Lourdes Rivera writes in her piece, 

"The Court cannot accept those arguments in the LGBT context without undermining hard-won gains in equality for women and other groups and inviting a regression to the dark parts of our past we thought we’d left behind: a world of segregated lunch counters, and women confined to the home."

This is all a rehashing of our value in society through the foggy lens of religion.

We are valuable. We are lovable. 

Remain courageous and remain unapologetically in love, Charlie and Dave.

In solidarity,
Morgan Roddy, Queer Chocolatier

---

Dear Jack,

I'm sure these are trying times for you as well. You hold a deeply-held belief and feel as though you are only defending your rights to creatively express yourself and maintain your religious freedom.

We actually have a few things in common. We are both passionate about our culinary creations. We are both white and cisgendered. We are both businesspersons, albeit you have certainly been in business much longer than I. And, on the face of your argument, I can imagine that I would not want to be compelled into doing something I do not believe.

But there is more than just the face of your argument. Its core, its roots, its bones are not only discriminatory but it is just really, really bad business, to the point that over 30 large businesses filed an amicus brief in support of the case's respondents. Not that you're without powerful, if not controversial, support of your own. You may contend that, even though the majority of America and the majority of small business owners find discrimination against queer folks to be utterly distasteful, we are in the wrong because we have been swayed while you remain resolute and firm in your beliefs.  

Fine. I'm not a Christian and, as a self-identified comfortable agnostic, I can say that I am not guided by a religion. You've got me there.

But I am often moved by the words and deeds of Christ and I am especially taken by those who preach the gospel through actions instead of words.

The message of Christ was neighborly love.

And I am thoroughly befuddled why a cakemaker--someone who makes a product that is nearly universally loved--who claims to be a follower of Christ can perform some monumentally unloving acts. Not only are you performing un-love, you and those defending your case in the highest court in the land are making a significant effort to codify your unloving, discriminatory business practices.

I know that my queer self will not discriminate in my business practices. I would even prepare a box of truffles for you, despite your "sincerely-held beliefs" that my marriage is an abomination. I consider myself lucky that you would simply not choose to do business with me since it is clear from the outset who I am and what my business is about.

It is about solidarity, fierce and unapologetic love, and chocolate. 

Jack, I hope your collective efforts prove to be a modern-day parallel of Sisyphus. 

Unapologetically yours,
Morgan Roddy, Queer Chocolatier

---

Dear Tony, 

(Wait, can I call you "Tony" or should I just stick with Justice Kennedy? I'm sorry for my fluster. You're the first Justice I've written, despite my deep and abiding love of RBG.)

You've got quite the hot seat on the bench! All eyes will be on you and your position on the Masterpiece Cakeshop v Colorado Civil Rights Commission. Folks like me are not exactly comfortable with this arrangement, but we are hopeful all the same.

We watched you give Hobby Lobby--and conservative businesses and the religious right--a victory in taking away women's access to birth control through employer-sponsored health insurance coverage. But, a great many of us also celebrated your position in Obergefell: 

No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization's oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right.

You tempest of the Court! How you pitch us to and fro!

All feelings aside (or as many as will be patient enough to sit for a brief minute without jumping back into the fray), you have quite the case in front of you. The questions of how corporations govern themselves, how government and businesses and individual customers engage with one another, and the friction between free speech (or religion or expression) and anti-discrimination are not easy ones to mull over, but you fully begin that process today.

I begrudgingly recognize the personhood of corporations that our nation seems to hold as true. That seems to be of a particular import in this case as Jack Phillips contends mightily that it is his beliefs that are under assault, his expression that is being coerced by the State of Colorado.

Is that the same as Masterpiece Cakeshop holding those positions? Can the corporate veil simultaneously protect Phillips while he also seeks to shed it? Can he possibly begin to, and please forgive me Justice Kennedy, have his cake and eat it, too?

I will be waiting anxiously until the coming year until you indulge us with your views on this case. As a businessperson, a queer person, and as an American. 

Respectfully yours,
Morgan Roddy, Queer Chocolatier

---

Dear America,

We are in a fit. And I am exhausted by it.

If you think queer men don't deserve a wedding cake, that they deserve to be discriminated against, that religion is above law regardless of the notion that religion can and is used by some as a thin veil to display power rather than a platform to display love, then how can we move on as a nation?

Perhaps we need to have a sit down chat over some chocolate to figure this out. Together. 

We must do better,
Morgan Roddy, Queer Chocolatier

Queer Finances: Should Queers Have Their Own Credit Union?

QUEER FINANCES: SHOULD QUEERS HAVE THEIR OWN CREDIT UNION?

Queer folk can face discrimination at banking institutions. Is it time for queers to have their own credit union?

If you subscribe to my monthly newsletter, you'll notice that I include a section that I adorably call "News Bites": a curated list of news and media pieces related to chocolate and/or the queer/trans* community. November's issue of the Cocoa Communiqué contained a piece from Forbes (though the original interview was a podcast episode from Queer Money(TM)) and it asked the question: "Should the queer community have its own credit union?"

Dozens of internal responses engaged immediately in a mental traffic jam, desperately trying to nudge their way past another to get out first.

Here's why:

1. I'm queer and I have some thoughts about how I would like my personal and business finances handled.
2. I used to be a stockbroker and have a certain amount of financial and economic professional knowledge.
3. I have an advanced degree in sociology and tend to think about systemic issues, such as the economy and LGBTQIA2+ communities.

Hence, this blog post.

Do I think the queer community should have a credit union of its own? Yes. 

But.

The original interview between Phillip Endicott (who is attempting to launch a queer credit union: Equality Credit Union) and John and David, the hosts of Queer Money (TM), contained some references to data that were interesting and, on the face, very convincing:

• “In 29 states, you can get married and be denied a home loan because of who you are, how you live and who you love,”
• Endicott struggles with the notion that LGBTQ people are “considered wealthy and well-off when, in fact, we’re struggling financially.” He continues, “We’ve been adversely affected by all the years of fighting for equality and acceptance.”
• Endicott says, “We’ve been fighting the HIV/AIDS crisis. We’ve been fighting for marriage equality and equality in general. We’ve been fighting for our rights for so many years.

However, I think there were elements of homogenizing the homos to make a point.

It is true that there have long been battles that the queer community has waged, but some of those battles have been labeled as "LGBTQ issues" instead of what they might have been more accurately described as "cis white gay men" issues. And that's problematic.

Demographics of Wealth and Homeownership

Discrimination of any sort is wrong, particularly when it leads to a barrier preventing financial betterment. In Endicott's reference of discrimination at the bank when applying for a home loan, the only folks who might be shocked or find themselves seeking pearls to clutch are white folks.

People of color (PoC) have long been denied home ownership, which has led to a staggering generational wealth discrepancy between white households and non-white households.

“In 2009, a representative survey of American households revealed that the median wealth of white families was $113,149 compared with $6,325 for Latino families and $5,677 for black
families.”

— Shapiro, Meschede, and Osoro. 2013. IASP Research and Policy Brief.

These figures are before any consideration is taken regarding sexual orientation, but we can cautiously extrapolate this to mean PoC who identify as LGBTQIA2+ are multiply marginalized and increasingly less likely to enter into homeownership due to discrimination and socioeconomic barriers and, thus, lose out on the biggest wealth generator in our economy. 

“Discrimination was pervasive throughout the entire sample, yet the combination of anti-transgender bias and persistent, structural racism was especially devastating. People of color in general fare worse than white participants across the board, with African-American transgender respondents faring worse than all others in many areas examined”

— Grant, Jaime M., Lisa A. Mottet, Justin Tanis, Jack Harrison, Jody L. Herman, and Mara Keisling. Injustice at Every Turn: A Report of the National Transgender Discrimination Survey. Washington: National Center for Transgender Equality and National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, 2011.

Trans* folks were surveyed and found to have a homeownership rate of less than half of the general population (32% compared to 67%).

To layer on an additional challenge that is far too frequently ignored, our aging LGBTQIA2+ folx are being crushed by our nation's economic machinations. According to a 2014 report by SAGE, our queer/trans* elders are facing "adverse differential treatment against older same-sex couples seeking housing in senior living facilities" and "this report attests to the role that discrimination plays in worsening this housing instability among LGBT elders."

“Housing instability affects millions of LGBT older people around the country, many of whom face severe financial hardship, challenges with employment and unequal treatment under the law.”

— SAGE and ERC Documents Discrimination against Older Same-Sex Couples. 2014.

Sexual orientation and gender identity minorities face housing and banking discrimination, but PoC and the elderly are suffering disproportionately when compared with younger and white cis gay males.

As a small favor, I will begrudgingly leave out the rural/urban divide that can also be layered onto this verbal model I'm outlaying! You're welcome!

Queer Financial Struggles

It is also true that the queer community struggles with the duality of being stereotyped as having gobs of money to spend while also not actually having a strong financial situation or outlook. But this might be simply because of lumping folx together who have vastly different experiences and levels of privilege.

According to Experian's 2012 survey, married or partnered gay men have the best financial partnership out of any possible couplings. The average annual household income for such pairings is approximately $116k while married or partnered heterosexual men household earned nearly $22k less, on average.

“When it comes to individual income, gay and straight men may earn roughly the same amount, but married or partnered gay men personally take home nearly $8,000 more, on average, than their straight counterparts. ”

— Experian. 2012. "Understanding Your Customer."

In a clumsy attempt to compare the venerable apples-to-apples, Experian's survey also referenced that lesbians--single or married/partnered--earn more than straight women, but all this does is muddy the waters surrounding the wage gap between men and women, regardless of sexual orientation. 

This is not to be dismissive of the financial challenges faced by straight, unmarried women but rather point out that the notion of a cis white gay man saying "we're struggling financially" while sitting atop the financial mountain falls flat.

Yay! Queers can get married! Now what? wait, where'd you go, gay guys???

When trans* PoC are being murdered at terrifying rates, with 2017 already surpassing the number of such murders in the previous year, planning nuptials isn't at the forefront of their minds for causes worthy of fighting. Whereas, cis white gay men have the majority of the same socioeconomic and political privileges as their straight counterparts, the main thing they lacked in terms of institutional access was in the ability to legally marry their partners. Thus, the cause célèbre of same-sex marriage was born.

This is not to say that other queer/trans* folx didn't benefit from being able to marry whomever they unapologetically loved, but consider that there has been a deafening silence from cis white gay men on a myriad of social justice and civil rights issues after they won their SCOTUS ruling. The amount of capital (social and financial) gay men initially had to invest in the cause of same-sex marriage had a tremendous return; but where are they now?

The backlash against queer/trans* being given a modicum of equality has led to a more focused attack on our community, particularly the trans* community, with a rash of so-called bathroom bills and preventative measures against enacting the passage of hate crime bills.

Gay cis white men need to use their access and privilege to help build a safer and more just environment for the most marginalized in our community before trying to win over our support for a new cause célèbre of wanting a credit union.

Do I think queers should have a credit union for our community? Yes. Credit unions serve communities and we are a community that has unique financial conditions. But a queer credit union does not need to be led by cis gay white men and it does not need to come into existence through the exploitation of the marginalized socio-economic and political contexts of those in the  LGBTQIA2+ community who do not share in such privileges.