Ever since Apollo and the Midnighter came out, Andrew Wheeler has been arguing the importance of greater representation for homosexuals in comics. Now he's taking his arguments to the people with the power to make a difference.
02 July 2001

When I told my parents about my being gay, my mum said, in among a lot of other things, "it's probably just a phase". She claimed it was fashionable to be gay these days, because "it's not like people are really homophobic anymore." And she said that I should be careful not to catch any diseases.

I can vote, own property and, as of last year, die for my country. That doesn't mean people aren't homophobic, and my mother knows that, because, shock horror, she's homophobic! Though she's an artist, and therefore something of a fag hag, she still thinks gay people are disgusting and godless and, of course, sexually prolific and prone to disease. The best spin I could put on the situation for her was to point out that I had now significantly increased my chances of one day bringing home a nice doctor or lawyer.

'Homophobia manifests itself through the things not said, the rights not granted.' But she had her reasons for making this ridiculous assertion, and I understand them. Though she thinks homophobic thoughts, and knows a lot of other people harbour them, homophobia today is, for the most part, invisible. It manifests itself most often through the things not said, the things not done, the rights not granted.

Yes, beatings and murders still occur, but the times they get press coverage are rare, in part because in most countries these beatings and murders still aren't legally recognised as hate crimes. That fact alone demonstrates the point. Crimes motivated by the victim's sexuality are hate crimes. It's discrimination if this isn't recognised. Passive homophobia. Invisible hate.

Being gay isn't the hardest thing in the world, sure, but it's not your first choice either. A blinkered person might happily delude himself into believing it's no hardship at all. There are probably even some openly gay people who have never registered being discriminated against, and who wonder what all the fuss is about.

Yet people suffer for their sexuality. They wake in the morning knowing they must face animosity in the workplace, and they feel despair. They drift further from their families with each passing year and feel loss. They hold hands with their lovers in a public place and feel threatened. The judgement of strangers, loved ones, the people they see every day can be weighted against them. People don't have to throw bricks at your head to make you miserable. Hate alone can ruin lives. How do you fight invisible hate?

The answer is obvious. With acceptance. With visible acceptance.

'Apollo and the Midnighter made a difference to my self-esteem.' Those of you who used to read my old monthly column back at PopImage will remember that I've written on this subject before. When Warren Ellis announced that Apollo and the Midnighter, his Superman/Batman analogues from THE AUTHORITY, were gay, I wrote a response pointing out how substantial a difference this could make to some lives. When you're young, lonely and filled with self-loathing, any positive role model you find can help lift you up and give you hope. When you're gay and coming to terms with it, you're hungry for someone, anyone, to prove they accept you. Apollo and the Midnighter made a difference to my self-esteem, and I'm in my twenties. Imagine the boost it could provide for a boy in his teens.

But it's been almost two years since I wrote that column, and in that time there has been no revolution. On the contrary, the one step forward has become a step back. At the Bristol comics convention last year, John McCrea, the artist on JENNY SPARKS: THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE AUTHORITY, showed me a page from issue two in which Apollo and the Midnighter shared their first full panel kiss. A tiny thing, but a remarkably empowering image. Months later, the issue hit the stands, and the kiss was gone. That small but significant step forward had been rendered invisible.

Click here to read Andrew's original response to Warren Ellis, as it appeared at PopImage. Naturally, I e-mailed Wildstorm editor John Layman to ask what had happened. He explained, "There are powers that be who are not completely comfortable with portraying a gay relationship, particularly since people outside comics still perceive it as a 'kid's medium.' Mark certainly wasn't happy about it, nor was McCrea, nor was I, but the powers seem to be letting us take baby steps, and long as they are not completely shutting us down we will continue to play ball."

At this year's Bristol convention he reiterated that the relationship between Wildstorm and its new parent DC had been at a delicate stage, hence the need to step carefully around controversy. To show a kiss between two adults in a consensual and loving relationship is still deemed controversial at DC, if those two adults are men. Even if they're men who destroy people with lasers and punch through skulls. Even in an adult book.

In reality, I doubt it would have caused much of a stir - certainly nothing DC couldn't handle (a few threatening letters were enough to send the mighty AOL Time Warner scrambling for cover, apparently) - but the good it might have done would have been considerable. It would have been a step towards acceptance. It would have given strength to any number of troubled kids. I can barely conceive of the kind of nervous cowardice that led someone to withdraw that panel.

(As a footnote to all this, several of my friends, realising how strongly I felt about this single panel, banded together to buy the original artwork from John McCrea, complete with kiss intact. The page now hangs proudly on my sitting room wall.)

I realise now that in applauding Ellis' initial move to 'out' his two characters, I had not done enough. So here's the next step. I'm sending an open letter to many of the industry's great and good, to editors, publishers, writers and artists, to ask for their support in more positive representation. I don't know what can come of it, but I know I'll never find out if I don't try. That letter is reprinted below:


This is an open letter being published as part of a column at the comics journalism site Ninth Art. You can read the column at http://www.ninthart.org/display.php?article=53.

There are openly gay musicians in our charts. There are openly gay actors on our cinema screens. Hit movies and best-selling books are being produced that deal prominently with gay themes. Yet in comics, a medium that attracts a young, modern audience and has room to take risks, a medium where many of the finest creators are themselves gay or bisexual, and a medium where a disproportionate percentage of the audience is also gay or bisexual, homosexuality is severely under-represented.

Many young people go through a very difficult stage of their lives when they have to come to terms with their own sexuality. Many of these young people face alienation by the people they love and need the most - their family and friends. Many of them don't make it. The suicide rate among gay teens is disproportionately high.

What these kids need is for someone to show them it's OK. What they need is positive representation. It gives them a sense of belonging in this world, and every incidence of positive representation helps chip away at homophobia. Positive representation can change lives, or even save them. We need more gay characters in comics.

'Gay characters should appear in stories because they are there in real life.' Of course it would be wrong to force gay themes into stories where the impact would distort the writer's intent. However, a gay character's sexuality does not need to be the focus of every story he or she appears in. On the contrary, gay characters should appear in stories simply because they are there in real life, in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of attitudes and personalities. They should be as common, ordinary and diverse as female, black or Hispanic characters. Though some comics could afford a few more of those, as well.

I believe there should be more positive representation of homosexual characters in comics, and I'd be interested to know if you agree. If you do, and you think you can do something about it, I would encourage you to do so. To borrow an idea, I'd be grateful if you could make "A Commitment To Representing and Embracing Sidelined Sexualities". For short, we'll call it "ACTRESS".

If you don't agree, there's another group you can be signed up to: people who are "Blithely Ignoring Sexuality, Hoping it's Only a Phase". We'll call it "BISHOP".

I hope you'll take the time to respond to this letter, to let me know your feelings on an issue that has great importance in my life, and in the lives of a very large number of your readers. I'd also be very grateful if I could share your response with my readers.

Many of you who are receiving this letter have already shown through your work or your attitudes that you are committed to the ideas presented in this letter. Thank you. Others of you may have the commitment, but feel you have lacked the opportunity. It's time to change the climate, take courage, and make opportunities. In all cases, I'd like to hear from you.

My apologies for the unsolicited nature of this mail, and my thanks for your time. If you know of any other parties that may be interested in receiving this letter, please forward it to them.

I'll be attending the San Diego Comic Convention later this month, so I hope I'll get the opportunity to discuss this letter - and your responses - with some of you there.

Yours,

Andrew Wheeler.


This is the start of it. You will hear more as the story continues.

This article is Ideological Freeware. The author grants permission for its reproduction and redistribution by private individuals on condition that the author and source of the article are clearly shown, no charge is made, and the whole article is reproduced intact, including this notice.




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