I get this a lot, especially because I get read as female (despite being genderqueer) and read as straight (because my partner identifies as male). So even though I have several layers of queer identities relating to my orientation and gender, I’m frequently invisibilized in almost all settings. (And yeah, it stings even worse when I get it from other queers in queer spaces.)

To me, it feels like an unintentional erasure. Like I don’t look the part enough or something. Like even if I wore a “Legalize Trans*” t-shirt and fifteen rainbow bracelets, people would still assume I’m an ally.

And there’s nothing wrong with being an ally, but I just feel like I shouldn’t have comply with absurd stereotypes just to be recognized as a member of my own community.

I like your suggestion to make the conversation about how these measures (such as ending DOMA) advocate for everyone’s well-being and equality.

Not at all, Ms. M! I don’t like playing oppression olympics (what my mother used to call the game of “my pain is more exquisite than your pain!”) … and I absolutely think this observation has wider applicability than gay rights.

My supervisor at work has MS, another invisible disability (at least in her case). I know people who have chronic physical issues which aren’t “written on the body” in a way that makes it obvious to passersby. They get all sorts of push-back when they, for example, take a seat on the subway during rush hour (looking outwardly young and healthy).

The other way I notice these social cues and privilege issues intersecting around charity is in the class-coding around arts and culture activities and income. My partner and I both work in institutions dependent on generous private donations, and as young, white professionals we blend into this weird demographic in Boston that’s assumed to be part of the rising monied class — even though we’re professionals in a field where we’re lucky to be making $35K/year. Yet the language of solicitations for charity giving assumes a level of discretionary spending we don’t have (and an absence of need for public services which we rely on). It’s really fascinating (when it’s not maddening).

Each time I’m at the grocery store this month, I get asked at the little card swipe screen if I want to donate money to help those with disabilities (it goes to special olympics). I donate each time, and the cahier is all THANK YOU for your VERY GENEROUS DONATION (I do $5 each time). I say “my son DOES special olympics” (he has high functioning autism) and they are all shocked. Of course it is those “other” people who participate in “that” sort of thing.

Anyway, not to diminish to LGBT canvassing, but I just needed to vent on this subject how it relates to invisible disability as well.