TNG is taking a much needed break from Dec 19-Jan 4. TNG will return with new content on Jan 5. Until then, please enjoy this post from the past year. Original publish date:8/25/2008.

Yesterday after brunch, my boyfriend and I decided to nap off a hangover in Kalorama Park. So on a perfect afternoon I was lying with my head on my boyfriends stomach while his hand rested on mine. And thats when the trio of 13 year-olds starting calling us “gaylord fuckers” from all the way across the park. They kept this up for close to ten minutes. They walked right by us, saying “Man, thats not right. What they need is some pussy.” They stopped and stared at us. I just ignored them and tried to enjoy my afternoon, which seemed much less idyllic. We left shortly after.

My boyfriend and I are never shy about holding hands in public. As a result, I could regale you with a hundred stories like the one above. We’ve been mocked on the SEPTA in Philly. Called fags in Rehoboth. Gayrods in Chicago. An 8 year-old girl on 18th St. whispered to her little brother “Look, they’re gay” and walked behind us giggling for half a block. Yet we still do it. Partly because we love each other and partly because there is more to holding hands than just being cute.

Gay Public Displays of Affection are an occasional topic of debate on this site. The argument generally boils down to “it is our right to display affection just like straight people” vs. “PDA is gross no matter who does it,” with a smidgen of “Gays who get harassed for public affection deserve it for not being more discreet.” I think the issue is a little more complicated than that.

Gay PDA is about visibility. It’s about making sure that everyone person who sees you and your same-sex significant other holding hands or cuddling or kissing will realize “oh, those people are gay.” They won’t think you’re sisters or cousins or overly expressive best friends. You’ll take the abstract concept of homosexuality and make it alive for them, simply by being yourself. By showing that we are real people and that we are everywhere.

My boyfriend and I don’t look like a typical gay couple. No one does. The “typical gay couple” has as much basis in reality as any other ridiculous cultural stereotype. Yet so many passersby do double-takes when they see us holding hands that we’re currently researching hidden cameras to capture their expressions. Men and woman alike gape at our hands as if they’re on fire. They stare at us from across the street and look over their shoulders when the pass us.

But we hope that, eventually, they’ll get used to it. You see one person walking a unicorn in the park and it’s headline news. Three months later you’ll see 200 people walking unicorns in the park and call it a Thursday. As noted earlier today, coming out isn’t just something you do once. It has to happen every day of your life or else you might as well not be out at all.

So homos, hold hands. Hold hands on the subway or at the supermarket. Kiss goodbye on the street corner. Tell waiters that your boyfriend went to the bathroom, but will be back to order in a second. Don’t put yourself back in the closet by using gender neutral pronouns or avoiding qualifiers. You’ll get rude looks and callous comments, but eventually people will deal with it.

Like those kids in the park. They continued to harass my boyfriend and I for several minutes, until one of them told the other two to “leave them alone, they’re a happy couple.”

Eventually, people learn.