For me, it depends. But if you asked some others, the answer is a resounding yes.
There are plenty of websites and online communities making the claim “Dan Savage doesn’t speak for me.”
It’s a statement expressing frustration with Savage’s status as a go-to guy during media discussions about sex, sexuality and gay issues.
Believe it or not, those critics are right, and their reasons aren’t unmerited.
In the past he’s mocked or belittled members of the LGBT community, made statements with racist implications and discussed female sexuality in degrading and demeaning ways, among many other gaffes that fuel rage from thousands of people.
If what he says prompts strong disagreement, there are reasons – whether it’s because his opinions were poorly stated, inherently problematic or because someone wishes to dismiss or scapegoat him since they may simply wish to silence his views.
Despite public statements that may prompt knee-jerk disagreement, disgust and criticism, Savage still has redeeming qualities as a gay “representative” in media.
Fueling a national conversation about bullying, harassment and resulting suicides for all youth – prompted after multiple reports of LGBT youth suicides – “It Gets Better” spawned more than 30,000 submitted videos from all over the world totaling more than 40 million views.
When you Google “Santorum,” you can thank Dan Savage for all those times you giggled while reading headlines like “Santorum surges in the polls.”
Sure, it’s a disrespectful meme, but Santorum’s repulsive remarks about gays make it a clever way for Savage to rhetorically turn the tables.
And many people can thank Savage for helping unlock the power of understanding their sense of sexuality. Those discussions are often taboo, and sex columns like Savage’s help some people shed layers of internalized stigma, regardless of their opinion.
Clearly, he isn’t all bad. But he’s the target of heavy criticism not necessarily because of who he is, since we don’t know him enough personally to draw any conclusions. Savage gets criticized because of what and who he represents, given his gay identity.
To a degree, I can relate to the same quandary. It’s often called the “burden of representation.”
Prior to penning my first column more than a year ago, I strongly considered staying away from topics related to my communities. Of course, I didn’t.
I wondered whether or not writing about issues related to my communities would get me typecasted and compartmentalized. But I felt that my writing could fuel important discussions and widen perspectives on issues in my communities perhaps not highly visible in the mainstream.
That process of negotiating with myself is typical when considering the power of representation and visibility.
But though the “burden of representation” can be difficult to cope with, it’s a burden that should be embraced. And that burden falls on many people in the public eye because they are, for some, the first “point of contact” for a given community.
Since American media only in the last century became diversified, public figures from minority groups are viewed as cultural ambassadors.
Often those public figures educate people otherwise unaware of other communities’ everyday realities. It’s amazing that, through sheer visibility, perspectives and even lives can be changed.
Despite all of that, there’s still a catch-22.
On the one hand, visibility is important. Without diversified images in the media, people could get out of touch with reality, forgetting the complexity of the world around them.
It’s important for many to see people who share their identity achieving prominence and success in their field. Sometimes those images can be relatively scarce, and seeing someone from your community in the media can be affirming, motivating and even inspiring.
On the other hand, visibility can be misleading. There’s high potential for people to oversimplify or make bad assumptions about communities different from their own by not exercising discernment and seeking out more sources for learning.
It’s problematic to assume Mitt Romney represents all Mormons, or that Al Sharpton represents all blacks, since it’s not possible for them to represent the views of their entire community. Yet for many, it’s a difficult task to separate the community from the individual.
Despite the dilemma of representation, retaining one’s own individuality while serving as a cultural ambassador creates a healthy balance.
Just as someone like Savage often feels compelled to discuss gay issues, he just as easily writes about other stuff. At the end of the day, the decision to do or discuss things specific to one’s community is a personal one.
As for those critics who feel Savage doesn’t represent them, it’s fair to scrutinize and criticize Savage if and when his actions are problematic. Where it becomes unfair is exaggerating an association of one person to an entire community. Anyone who claims spokesperson status for an entire community would make a grave mistake.
Savage doesn’t necessarily speak for me or other gays, and I don’t necessarily speak for my communities. In reality, the only people we can really speak for are ourselves.
Derrick Clifton is a Communication senior. He can be reached at [email protected]
All opinions expressed in this column are solely the opinions of the columnist and do not reflect the views of The Daily Northwestern. If you would like to respond to the column, you may comment below, email the columnist or submit a 300-word letter to the editor to [email protected].