Long Doan, Trenton D. Mize
Sociological Science October 19, 2020
10.15195/v7.a21
Abstract
Most research on sexual prejudice explicitly or implicitly assumes that an individual’s sexual orientation identity is known to observers. However, there has been little large-scale survey evidence examining differential rates of disclosure among lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) individuals, and there remains much to be studied as to why and when LGB individuals choose to disclose their sexual identity to others. Using data from a nationally representative sample of LGB Americans (N=1,085), we assess the contexts and conditions under which LGB individuals disclose their sexual identities. Results show that bisexual women and men are significantly less likely to disclose their sexual identity across several important social domains, such as family and the workplace. This disclosure gap is partially explained by measures of identity commitment but surprisingly not by measures of perceived social acceptance. We discuss implications of these findings for sexuality and identity research.
Most research on sexual prejudice explicitly or implicitly assumes that an individual’s sexual orientation identity is known to observers. However, there has been little large-scale survey evidence examining differential rates of disclosure among lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) individuals, and there remains much to be studied as to why and when LGB individuals choose to disclose their sexual identity to others. Using data from a nationally representative sample of LGB Americans (N=1,085), we assess the contexts and conditions under which LGB individuals disclose their sexual identities. Results show that bisexual women and men are significantly less likely to disclose their sexual identity across several important social domains, such as family and the workplace. This disclosure gap is partially explained by measures of identity commitment but surprisingly not by measures of perceived social acceptance. We discuss implications of these findings for sexuality and identity research.
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- Citation: Doan, Long, and Trenton D. Mize. 2020. “Sexual Identity Disclosure among Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Individuals.” Sociological Science 7: 504-527.
- Received: August 19, 2020
- Accepted: September 19, 2020
- Editors: Jesper Sørensen, Gabriel Rossman
- DOI: 10.15195/v7.a21
My reticence to disclose my bisexual identity publicly is predicated on my objection to the well-intended ‘allyship’ that is so often then obtruded upon me. The implication that I am enfeebled by my queerness and require the protection of ‘out-group’ members who fashion themselves ‘privileged’ to be non-queer is highly offensive. Upholding the notion that ‘out-group’ members are privileged to be recognised by society as ‘normal’ is the very idea that maintains the asymmetric power dynamics and perpetual victimhood of the marginalised. I am privileged to be a person whose myriad attributes and achievements rank far above my queerness on a list of my most interesting and valued qualities. My sexual preferences, (dis)abilities and gender are not my causes; they may describe me, but they are not solely or definitively who I am. If I choose to advocate for my queerness, I do so from a position of privilege and strength as an educated, articulate, confident and charismatic person.
In A Rhetoric of Motives (1969), Kenneth Burke explains that allyship aims to close the gap between two non-identical colleagues or communities, eradicating differences that exist “…insofar as their interests are joined, A is identified with B,” and “To identify A with B is to make A ‘consubstantial’ with B” (p.p. 20-21). The process of closing the gap and identifying with the marginalised group is one of participation. Etienne Wenger conceptualises participation as a construct of one’s identity. In Communities of Practice (1998), he shows how through participation we shape and define our identity: “a defining characteristic of participation is the possibility of developing an ‘identity of participation,’ that is, an identity constituted through relations of participation…” (p.56).
As Wenger (1998) explains, when allies seek to participate in new communities, they enter into an “ally” identity and take on a common cause. Furthermore, allies must be invited to participate and recognized by the community with whom they would ally because allyship is a mutual relationship: “In this regard, what I take to characterize participation is the possibility of mutual recognition…In this experience of mutuality, participation is a source of identity. By recognizing the mutuality of our participation, we become part of each other” (p.56). It is clear that allyship cannot be asserted or imposed by the ‘out-group’ uninvited by the marginalised community. To impose allyship on a marginalised group that rejects its claims risks cooption and saviourship and upholds rather than challenges systemic inequality.
Catherine Fox’s From Transaction to Transformation (2007) also raises questions about the framing (see Goffman, 1986) of ally work. By limiting ally responsibility to one single group and ignoring other ‘isms’ [e.g., racism, ableism], we not only imply a universal queer experience in relation to homophobia and heterosexism (masking other intersectionalities), but by selecting queer allyship as our singlar cause, we deflect, ignore and further marginalise other minority groups – race, (dis)ability, culture, religion etc. Burke (1966) extrapolates that in working to reflect a reality, we select realities which reflect a target reality for the audience, but also deflect interpretations we do not wish to engage with. As a queer scholar with dyslexia, my cognitive impairment has been a far greater barrier to my successful assimilation into the academe than my queerness. That is what I choose as my fight and cause.