Running Head: DOMINANT AND SUBORDINATE GROUP IDENTITIES

Dominant and Subordinate Group Identities

Kerstin Eshelman
Georgia State University

DOMINANT AND SUBORDINATE GROUP IDENTITIES

Being a lesbian Buddhist is not as challenging as it once was. Discrimination and

prejudice still exist, but there is less of a need to remain closeted. Misinformation and
misunderstanding surrounding homosexuality and uncommon religions are copious, thick and
sticky. It causes prejudice and discrimination, fear and hatred, pain and suffering. This
misinformation has coated every part of culture and existence in not just the United States but
most other countries around the world. Thanks to globalization and other factors public opinion
is changing. There are several religions that are changing, modernizing. The enlightenment, the
cleansing light of the media along with dissemination of accurate information and the connecting
of people via the Internet, has managed to clear some paths through the ignorant muck. Darkness
and danger persist, but they are fading, slowly being washed away.
Twenty-seven years ago being out at work or school was not a wise or safe existence in
any place that was not a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning, Intersexed, or
Asexual (LGBTQIA) business. Showing affection in public, other than a few designated areas in
the Tri-state area of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut, was dangerous, physically,
emotionally, and financially. Repercussions of being discovered ranged from verbal assaults to
losing your job to losing your life. Because of the need to be covert, the LGBTQIA community
was starved for images of itself in the media.
Thanks to the Motion Picture Production Code in the 1930s and the countrys general
attitude toward the LGBTQIA community seeing relatable characters on television or in movies
with any regularity, that werent the bad guy or killed in a horrific manner, just didnt happen.
Searching for subtext in movies, television shows, and books was nearly a pastime and certainly
a frequent topic of conversation among friends. Same sex marriage would have been
unimaginable for many people, including myself. The hope then was for a successful, peaceful
life with the person you loved, a life that involved as little interference from those that would do
you harm as you could manage. If you were politically minded or an activist, the challenge was
to maintain that successful life all while fighting to make the future better, safer, and more fair.
Activism is one of the reasons why I have not missed a Gay Pride parade in 27 years.
Gay Pride is traditionally held the last weekend in June, the anniversary of the Stonewall
Riots in New York. During the wee hours of June 28th, 1969, the police were raiding a bar, The
Stonewall Inn, in order to arrest the people within for sexual and gender deviance. That night the
patrons had enough and fought back. That act of resistance started a series of riots that are touted
as the beginning of the gay rights movement. I will never forget going to my first Pride in
Greenwich Village NYC at 16 in 1987. I had never seen so many people, let alone gay people, in
one place. The energy was electric. Everyone was happy and celebrating and open. There was
music coming from the open doors of bars, open windows of apartments, and from sound
systems in the back of trucks. Masses of people were dancing in the streets. Every variety and
combination of humanity was holding hands, hugging, and kissing in public, and we were all
okay. We were safe, relatively. It was the first time I really felt community, my community, my
place in my community. For a scared, bullied, Catholic, teenage lesbian, that feeling was
everything. It was empowering. It was a gleaming sunshine filled weekend of hope that was
sorely lacking the rest of the year.

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In the 1980s being LGBTQIA was dangerous.One felt scorn and outright hatred coming
from everywhere, family, clergy, the government, peers. This prevalent malice was amplified
even more during that time because of the beginning of the AIDS epidemic. Imagine being told
that your existence was an abomination, your friends, and loved ones deserved to die a painful
death, and there being legislation to prove it. My vivid recollections are of the government, the
helping professions, and schools, whole communities condoning the worst possible treatment of
masses of dying people because most of them were gay men, and they deserved it. There are
people out there that still feel that way.
In the United States being identified as gay, particularly for men, was and in many places
still is very dangerous. Being gay or lesbian or queer was against the law everywhere in the U.S.
If it was not for the Supreme Courts decision only 11 short years ago it would still be illegal in
several states. Unfortunately, acceptance cannot be legislated. For safety, the LGBTQIA
community had to stay underground. Individuals needed to stay closeted because of the vicious
stereotypes propagated by the dominant heterosexual group. The stereotypes made LGBTQIA
people targets. Gay people were and are still seen by some people to be evil, possessed,
pedophiles, sick, mentally ill, or deviants. Stereotypes for lesbians include that they are mentally
ill, developmentally stunted, man haters that are too ugly to get a man, or all they need is a good
man to be cured. This animosity and the othering of homosexuals created an us versus them
atmosphere. The positive of the division was that it created a diverse, creative, and supportive
LGBTQIA community.
Because of the underground subculture created by the community one had to search to
find gathering places, bars, community centers, and groups to socialize with other like people,
but they existed. Unfortunately, other people that were malevolent eventually found these places
too which meant that these places were not completely safe, not really. In many places, they still
are unsafe. There are people who actively seek out gatherings of LGBTQ people for the specific
intent to do us harm, hunters in search of prey.
It may be hard for some to imagine, at least in this country, that their favorite pub would
need to close for renovations due to the Molotov cocktails thrown at its door. This incident
happened in the late 80s at a club in New Jersey I frequented called Feathers. Certainly at 20 I
was unprepared for the man who walked into the Red Lantern, a club I only visited one time,
who pulled a hammer from his jacket and started hitting the patrons with it, seriously injuring
several. Rocks, bottles, and, spray paint were common projectiles and irritants, but they were not
the most dangerous. Sometimes things got physical, and sometimes that happened in the places
that were supposed to be safe, like a friend who was beaten with golf clubs in the East Village in
the early 90s. Gay Pride celebrations were mostly safe but sometimes not. Violence and protests
were common.
Being identified as a lesbian was dangerous, but as mentioned previously not as
dangerous as it was for gay men. Gay male friends experienced much more physical violence
than lesbian friends. It was and is certainly an instance where being a woman is a benefit. Sadly

DOMINANT AND SUBORDINATE GROUP IDENTITIES

violence happened and still does toward lesbians, both for being lesbians and frankly for lesbians
being women. That is another story.
My first girlfriend outed me in high school. That set in motion a string of instances that
made the already unpleasant high school experience exponentially worse. Being pushed into and
against lockers, having rocks being thrown at my car even with my Mom in it, and a litany of
insulting and disparaging names became regular occurrences, both on and off campus. Though I
passed for being just another girl most of the time, an upside of being invisible, there were a
couple of times where I was recognized for who I was, really, and targeted. Bottles and slurs
were hurled in my direction on more than a few occasions. The worst hurdles that I had to
contend which were not from my peers; they were from the teachers. Being outed caused several
teachers, even the obviously gay ones, to shun me. The people who could have helped the most
did the most damage. Things improved over time and change of location, but not until much
later.
My experiences in high school made going to college terrifying. I had become so scared
of teachers and classmates and their reactions to me, being the freak that I am, that going to
school made me physically ill. After a couple of semesters of miserable grades, because I never
went to class, I gave up and dropped out. Time, distance, and new experiences helped me process
the trauma of my school days. The mid 90s arrived, and some progress had been made in public
opinion. Shockingly or perhaps counterintuitively my experiences of aggression, prejudice, and
discrimination for being lesbian decreased dramatically once I moved to Georgia. Of course
being a lesbian is only a part of my experience.
Being a woman is extraordinary. Being a 54 woman who works at The Home Depot is
an exercise in patience rarely seen in other humans. The Home Depot, THD for the initiated, is a
home improvement store that also caters to contractors. Painters, plumbers, electricians,
carpenters, and other tradesmen frequent the stores. A good percentage of the male contractors
are blatantly, expressively, and unapologetically chauvinist. An outside observer could glean
their attitudes in a moment simply by listening to the torrent of honey, baby, sweetie, darlin,
sugar monikers they use when interacting with us although our names are clearly printed on our
aprons. They are dismissive and condescending to any offer of assistance by a female. There
have been times when I have been deemed worthy to assist one of these men only to have a male
peer come into view and be summarily dismissed, sometimes without comment.
What is mind boggling is how assuming these men are of their place in their perceived
hierarchy and what are deemed appropriate or inappropriate tasks for their gender. The
electrician who works with schematics and all sorts of technology will approach the female
working at the Self-Checkout stand, arm outstretched, with a package of wire nuts pinched
between and dangling from his index finger and thumb. He will stop with this package and his
hand about 4 inches from the female cashiers face and say check me out. This act of
condescension is a daily occurrence for every woman I have seen work as a cashier at The Home
Depot. I have had this experience happen unnervingly often. I never have, not once, seen it
happen to a man working as a cashier.

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There are other examples of patriarchy in my life. Im certain of it. Most have not
impacted me in enough of a way to register on my oppression radar as more than an occasional
blip, other than pay discrepancy. The concept of patriarchy is apparent in the world. Its impact is
more palpable to friends and family and, in my opinion, heterosexual women than my
experience. With patriarchy men are dominant and women are targeted. With heterosexism
heterosexuals are dominant and LGBTQIA people are targeted. However, women are targeted
less than the men in LGBTQIA groups. That has buffered the discomfort of patriarchy for me
and perhaps others. Patriarchy is not my prominent pain; heterosexism is. The dominant pain
gets the most attention. The least targeted and painful of my targeted groups is also the most
easily hidden.
For some religion is an apparent and outward expression. Clothing, hair, and jewelry
make a statement about an individuals beliefs. For some religions, an outward expression is a
key aspect of their religion. Crucifixes, Yamakas, or other religious garb or symbols are worn as
part of religious practice or simply to proclaim ones faith. Buddhism, unless one is a nun or
monk, is not one of those belief systems. I am not targeted for not being a Christian, at least not
directly. Unless His Holiness, the Dalai Lama is in the news Buddhism is translucent if not
invisible. His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, is such a beloved figure across cultures that although
Buddhism is misunderstood in the U.S. it is not generally the target of hatred. It is seen as
benign. I come out as a lesbian far more readily than I do as a Buddhist simply due to time
constraints and the need for visibility.
I have answered the most ridiculous and ignorant questions from others pertaining to my
sexuality and my relationships. Education, information, and conversation dispel stereotypes,
foster goodwill and make the world a safer place. Those questions, the sexuality questions, have
finite and factual answers. Discussing religion involves time and philosophy and detailed,
cautious explanations, particularly because I am not what one usually pictures when they think
Buddhist. Discussing religion, particularly a non-dominant if not targeted religion, is treacherous
because it calls into question belief systems. People dont generally like their beliefs questioned.
Wars start that way. In this country, religions are like sports teams. Mine is better than yours. A
more damaging stance is the infamous Im right and you are wrong and therefore going to hell,
and I can treat you like garbage because my G-d hates you. People have tried to convert me or
heal me. People have also told me that I am a heathen and am going to hell. Thankfully, the
negative repercussions of my philosophy are few and far between. I am fortunate that I can pick
and choose many of my battles.
Along with being a lesbian and a Buddhist, I am also White, able-bodied, and not poor,
well not destitute. I have food and clothing and shelter. I have cognition and friends and a
supportive, though dysfunctional, family. I am very lucky. My dominant group affiliations far
outstrip my targeted group affiliations. Im not followed around grocery stores. People do not
joke about my language. I am assumed to be many things that I am not because of my skin color
just as others are assumed to be something else because of their skin. The difference is that the
assumptions about me, for the most part, are deemed positive. Reverse prejudice exists and is
more shocking and hurtful than prejudice from dominant groups. I have been called disparaging

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names related to my sexuality and gender so many times over my life I could not tell you when
or where most happened. They blur together. I was called a cracker once in East Atlanta in
Spring of 1999, and it stopped me cold in my tracks. Ive been so busy with gender and
homophobia and all their related hurdles up until then I never gave much thought about race. I
was blissfully colorblind. There were bigger fish to fry in the Northeast. The Southeast United
States still has palpable racial tenderness that was just not readily apparent to me in the
Northeast, at least not in Bergen County New Jersey, Nyack New York, Lower Manhattan,
Eastern Pennsylvania, and the other areas I spent the majority of my time. I now understand that
it is my privilege that gives me that perspective. Though the reading, exercises, and immersions
completed this semester I have gained a hypersensitivity to my privileges and the lack of
privilege for others.
My privilege provides opportunity on many levels. I have the great fortune of being a
chameleon. Being White and able-bodied is like having a cloak of invisibility to hide behind.
Two of my three targeted group statuses can be concealed, if I want to. A black person cannot
hide their skin color if they feel threatened. A Muslim cannot hide their faith without breaking
with their traditions that are part of their faith. Im a woman, but Im a white woman and there
are much more challenging existences to have.