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VIEWPOINTS
New Thinking: Spending
Our Money on Ourselves
The media event of the season was last summer when the Russians came to Washington.
Immediately, we were informed that the Gorbechev's were not to receive the most
splendorous of reception ceremonies because he was not, at that time, considered the Head
of State, only the Secretary of State. Gorbechev's reply to this uncharacteristic adherence to
protocol came that evening at the black-tie "Toasting Dinner". He wore a business suit and
informed us, via network t.v., that we as a country have fallen behind the rest of the world in
what he called the "New Thinking." Sitting amidst the cameras, black-ties and designer
dresses, perhaps he became conscious of exactly why this new thinking has come too
slowly.
Gorbechev would have to scratch the surface of America's upper crust to find evidence
of this new thinking and peel away layer upon layer of media hype and hustle to decode the
dialect of big business. For many of us this is a daily exercise in ethical survival, and, once
among us, Gorbechev would see that we, the new thinkers, are from every demographic
comer of the country, all in our own way expressing dissatisfaction with the status quo.
The hundreds of thousands of lesbians and gay men in this country, "...control as much
as 19 per cent of the nation's S2.6 trillion in disposable income," said Newsweek in
November of 1984, but we've been real busy since then, creating a phenomenon:
reconstructing our identity, making demands and coming out. The question as to our value
in the economic community at large may best be answered by corporations like Coors and
Circle K who have felt the heat of our growing fire. But there are so many individuals in
the corporate world promoting homophobic policies it is impossible to keep tabs.
In the past we have been our own worst enemies, handing our money over
indiscriminately, feeding the fires that have burned us for eons. In this time of 'new
thinking' it is the language of money, your money, that the status quo must decipher.
Atlanta's 300,000 lesbians and gay men have an approximate annual buying power of
S60 million. We also have the power and conscience to choose who receives the fruits of
our labor. We at Southern Voice would like to think the majority of our readers are already
.exercising their personal economic power, carefully choosing where you spend your
precious dollars.
Up until this time, we as a community have been without a consistent source of buyer
information. Southern Voice is young but we are growing with your needs in mind. We
want to offer you the assurance that your S60 million is directed towards people who are
sensitive to the needs and rights of the lesbian and gay community. Southern Voice is
comprised of new thinkers and we will sift through the plethora of alternatives to bring you
advertisers you can trust.
-Jessi McVay
Straddlin' the (Mason-Dixon) Line
I'm a transplant; bom in the North, raised
in the South. Northerners I meet
automatically assume that I use Volvos as
pick-up truck target practice on the way to
wrasslin' matches, and lifelong Southern
friends always remember their
grandmother's tales of carpetbaggers looting
the family treasure when they learn my
blood isn't quite so equatorial as theirs.
I have the best of both worlds.
I'm not at all sure I have any perceptions
about us that proves our experience is any
different from those of Northern brothers
and sisters-gay or straight—but there does
seem to be something.
I enjoyed some of the language and
accents first heard upon arrival at age 5. By
the end of the first week of kindergarten, I
was "ya'll'in" with the best of ’em, thereby
terrorizing my speech pathologist father. I
think there was some strange masochistic
pleasure in hurting a finger and being able to
wave it about in the air proclaiming,
"OOOEE, OOOEE, OOOEE!" Language-
that was The South, right?
O.K., language and food. I quickly took
to black-eyed peas, turnip greens (with
tops), and grits with eggs. Sorry, dumping
peanuts in Coke (pronounced Co-cola, I
believe) is gross, I find RC and a Moonpie
objectionable, and what the HELL are Nabs
anyway?!?!
Everything else seemed pretty much
universal in life. The pains of growing-up
would have hurt in any language or accent
"Sissy" cuts to the bone regardless of who
says it.
It wasn't until coming out years later that
some fascinating aspects of the Southern
Gay/Lesbian Experience surfaced. My
"first" was a costume designer with a Gone
WithTheWind fetish. He could whip-up a
hoop skirt/Confederate uniform soiree with
about three seconds advanced notice. The
movie made its TV debut and I was jealous
of his attention to the tube. Was I missing
something by birth that left me asking the
question, "It's a beautiful classic, but what's
the big deal?"
Moving to Atlanta proved a second
coming out, and exposure to the more
cosmopolitan gay experience. Most of what
I observed or did seemed typical to
"ghettos" anywhere. There still didn't seem
to be a lot of The South wrapped-up in the
deal. That changed after attending my first
camp drag shows. Being in a crowd of
men and women caught in the spell of a
moustachioed Tammy Wynctte or a female
Elvis impersonator gave me that
something-is-out-there feeling. What was
deep inside that I felt I missed (though I
had a great time)?
So here we are at present. I'm still
having trouble finding things that are
typically Southern about who we are as gay
men and women. Language, food, and
camp drag insights seem much too
superficial. We do or don't deal with
ourselves on an individual level that defies
race, sex, preferences or geographic
boundaries. So much for a layman's
armchair analysis, right? I'll keep up the
research, however, and hope to figure it all
out one day.
-Alan Mann
Alan Mann is a school teacher in the metro
Atlanta area. Writing is only one of a
variety of interests for him. Having to use a
pen name, for reasons of job security, is
not something he is thrilled about.
SOUTHERN
\OCE
Managing Editor
Christina Cash
Photo Editor
Pamela J. Cole
Advertising
Jessi McVay
Assistant Managing Editor
Chris Duncan
Production/Design
Sharon Blalock
Calendar Editor
Candace Wiggins
STAFF
John Blizzard, A1 Cotton, Mark duPont, Terry Francis, F.G., Charles Haver,
John Kappers, Rhonda Mensen, Wendy Morse,
Tia Nikolopoulas, Martia Proba, David Strawn, Leigh VanderEls
Logo and Calendar design by Stebbo Hill
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