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The Gay Generational Divide

June 22nd, 2009 by Jaime

Generation Y has two presidents to reference: Bush and Obama. Clinton was only relevant to us once Lewinsky came in, and at that point it was all about a show rather than a president. Our idea of what politics and activism is and can do is founded in these two seemingly polar-opposite presidents. In particular, we relate to them in developing our attitudes toward gay America.

Research continually shows that today’s youth is much more accepting and comfortable with homosexuality, gay marriage, and gay themes and public figures in our pop culture than previous generations, even the supposedly edgy Gen X. Essentially, the older the person, the more likely they are to feel uneasy about a Gavin Newsom governorship.

This divide does not end here. It is a part of the minority group itself, a part of the gay community. As this piece in New York Magazine notes, gay men in their 20’s don’t quite understand gay men in the 50’s, and vice versa:

Public infighting is a big minority-group taboo—it’s called taking your business out in the street. And it may seem strange to note this phenomenon at a juncture that, largely because of the fight for gay marriage, has been marked by impressive solidarity. But let’s have a look. Here’s the awful stuff, the deeply unfair (but maybe a little true) things that many middle-aged gay men say about their younger counterparts: They’re shallow. They’re silly. They reek of entitlement. They haven’t had to work for anything and therefore aren’t interested in anything that takes work. They’re profoundly ungrateful for the political and social gains we spent our own youth striving to obtain for them. They’re so sexually careless that you’d think a deadly worldwide epidemic was just an abstraction. They think old-fashioned What do we want! When do we want it! activism is icky and noisy. They toss around terms like “post-gay” without caring how hard we fought just to get all the way to “gay.”

And here’s the awful stuff they throw back at us—at 45, I write the word “us” from the graying side of the divide—a completely vicious slander (except that some of us are a little like this): We’re terminally depressed. We’re horrible scolds. We gas on about AIDS the way our parents or grandparents couldn’t stop talking about World War II. We act like we invented political action, and think the only way to accomplish something is by expressions of fury. We say we want change, but really what we want is to get off on our own victimhood. We’re made uncomfortable, or even jealous, by their easygoing confidence. We’re grim, prim, strident, self-ghettoizing, doctrinaire bores who think that if you’re not gloomy, you’re not worth taking seriously. Also, we’re probably cruising them.

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