Jose Gonzalez-Campelo/The Cougar
If you’re an avid follower of queer media, you’ll undoubtedly know the experience of watching a new show and having to predict whether its queer characters will have a happy ending, or even live to see the end. It’s a tradition!
Thankfully, with recent media, there’s been a clear push for depicting queer joy before tragedy, allowing gay characters to live as happily as their straight counterparts.
As someone who grew up with little queer representation, it’s an exhausting process trying to find a piece of joyful queer media. Something that goes somewhat unacknowledged is the positive impact of having access to happy queer stories as a queer person.
This doesn’t just apply to young LGBT people either, or even just LGBT people at all. Seeing gay people on screen or in literature depicted as humans rather than tokens or part of a death count is what makes people realize our identities are normal, and not just something to point and laugh at.
It’s very alienating to see someone meant to represent a queer individual depicted on screen as nothing more than a trope, rather than a person. Being excited to see a gay or trans character, only to realize they exist for comedic relief or wind up dead in the end hurts, and reinforces the idea that queer individuals are not allowed to have better.
Now, this isn’t to say that tragic queer stories shouldn’t exist. There’s nothing inherently wrong with a good gay tragedy — look at films like “Brokeback Mountain!” There are plenty of classic queer tragedies that set the stage for the sorts of stories present now.
Even recent queer media has plenty of sadness to it, and they perform just as well as the happy ones. “Euphoria” is an easy example, even if its central theme doesn’t lie within its queerness. “I Saw The TV Glow” is another, as well as “Moonlight,” both of which have also garnered plenty of positive representation.
These are all great stories! Even if they are sad, it’s in a way that’s relatable and realistic.
The issue arises when that’s all there is. Story after story, tombstone after tombstone for every queer character depicted.
This is why it’s such a great thing to see more authors showcasing the many joys of being queer. It not only brings the community together but reminds the world that queer people deserve to be accepted and loved for who they are.
It’s been argued by some that a big reason marriage equality was legalized in the United States was due to more widespread positive depictions of gay people. Even outside of fiction, celebrities like Elton John, Wanda Sykes and Ellen coming out were big steps in the normalization of LGBT identities.
Since that initial dam of acceptance was broken, creators have been allowed to represent these identities without it being a huge deal. Take “The Owl House,” a Disney show with a multitude of LGBT characters whose relationships are shown just as seamlessly as you’d see any straight one.
To give some other examples of recent stories, there’s Netflix’s “Nimona,” a film centered around a character who shapeshifts as a metaphor for being transgender. Nimona’s fluidity was shown in a way that was simple enough for its intended young audience while still being very relatable and heartwarming.
While it’s what some would consider a very clean version of a queer story, “Love, Simon” was also a groundbreaking film when it came out. It produced hundreds of stories of queer youth that used the film as an introduction to their identities for their families.
Another is Alice Oseman’s “Heartstopper,” which had similar reactions due to its depictions of gay and trans people, and how it shows realistic homophobia while still having such joyful narratives.
As time goes on, there are more and more depictions of queer joy, and the effects of that can’t be understated.
Any queer representation, considering how many years were spent hiding away, is important. With as many positive effects as it can have, though, it’s integral that creators continue to make stories that remind the world that queer stories are not just doomed to the narrative.
Parker Hodges-Beggs is a journalism sophomore who can be reached at [email protected]
