2:19am July 4, 2014

I don’t care.

I’ve realized it, I really don’t care. I don’t care what community it is. I don’t care what derogatory names you’ve come up for all the factions in your community, many of which are completely indistinguishable to most outsiders and many insiders. I don’t care what you say about having to keep the community pure for the people it was intended for, as if it really ever was intended for some extra-narrow group of people, that you just happen to be one of.

I will always put the scared newcomers first.

I will always put first the kids and teens who are looking for a place to belong, sometimes desperately. As you coldly turn them away for not measuring up, or else force them to pretend to be like you so they can spend time around you.

I will always have a soft spot in my heart for the person so afraid to belong to the community that sie practically apologizes for being there. Sie finds ways to sound like she barely belongs there in the first place, making hirself sound as atypical as humanly possible, in the hopes that maybe, maybe, someone will let hir stick around without being attacked. Maybe. As she cowers in a corner, cringing, waiting for the next blow to strike.

Because that person was me.

And because you can’t tell me that any of your considerations about making sure that your community is pure enough – no matter how many words wrap around it – are worth even one person going through what sie is going through right then. And sie is going through it because of people like you.

I’m not going to get into long discussions of who said what, which kind of person believes what. It doesn’t really matter.

All that matters is there are vulnerable people who need communities, and this is not how you fucking give someone a community. And if you think it is, you’re selfish and self-centered and self-absorbed to the point you wouldn’t know a community if it it bit you on the ass and paraded around town with a chunk of your ass hanging out its mouth saying “I’m a community, I’m a community.”

Are there people who should be excluded from communities? Sure there are. They are people who have habitually shown that they cannot be trusted with communities without ripping the communities and the relationships within them apart, often on purpose. People who care only for the destruction of others. That kind of thing.

But these desperate kids.

These desperate kids who can’t even speak aloud the words:

I’m autistic…

I’m trans…

I’m genderless…

I’m part of a plural system…

I’ve been raped…

I’m nonverbal…

People who can barely bring themselves to say those things. And who say them only with the utmost qualifiers.

They have more respect from me than any identity police-person will ever, ever get from me. Because they are reaching out. They are trying to form connections with people. The connections that form the basis for community. The identity police folks, who want everyone to have the same experiences or Get The Fuck Off My Lawn types… they want to destroy those connections, make it harder to form those connections.

I’m a Hufflepuff. I stand with the scared people who want community, and will offer them every amount of comfort I can (within the confines of being autistic and introverted and not very socially adept).

I’ve got strong Gryffindor tendencies. I will fight for the scared people, and will fight against the identity police, for as long as I have to.

I have somewhat milder Ravenclaw tendencies. I will find ways to reason out and put into words exactly how these mentalities hurt people.

Alas, I’m rather lacking in Slytherin tendencies aside from a strong admiration for their Common Room. But I’m sure my Slytherin (and Slytherin-hybrid) friends will think of something to do in all this.

To the meek teenagers afraid of joining a community you ’re not sure you’ll belong in. To the ones who can’t say you’re autistic without saying you’re ‘atypical’ or 'just Asperger’ or 'very high functioning’ to shield against the idea that you’re encroaching too far to say you’re autistic. To the ones who won’t say what kind of trans person you are in case you’re the wrong kind, and either won’t divulge certain details, or will make up details to satisfy the demands placed upon you. To the ones who won’t reveal your pronouns to anyone. To the ones afraid to use a wheelchair even though you can’t walk two steps without excruciating pain, because you once heard a quad say that if he could walk at all, he’d never be in the chair, and that you must be lazy.

You’re the sort of person I’m concerned about. You’re the sort of person I've been. And I’m not all that concerned about the feelings of people whose mission in life is to cut you off from 'their’ communities, that they believe they own, even though they don’t. I don’t care what names they call themselves, what names they call you, or what names they call me. If they won’t let you in, you can either bang on the door until someone more forgiving answers, or you can make your own communities outside the walls of the echo chambers they love so much. Either way will be tough, but having a community, even for a little while, is worth it.

And a community is a group of people that cares about each other. Not just in a feeling way, but in a practical way. People who want to limit their communities to just the right sort of person, have already lost touch with what a community is, to their peril. You aren’t the only ones who are suffering, they are likely tearing each other (and themselves) apart in there behind closed doors, when they have nobody more outside the doors to rip to shreds.

I’ll always, always side with the person who needs a place of belonging and is being turned out for reasons that range from spiteful to frivolous. There are good reasons to turn some people out of communities (there are people who make it their lives work to tear apart communities and split up longstanding friendships and laugh their asses off), but this is not it. You are not doing any of those bad things, just by existing. Even if your existence is one that the community in question says can’t possibly be real. You’re real. And you matter.