Thread by @chimeracoder

On my Lyft Line back from the Pride weekend kickoff party, I got matched with a Bengali driver. After a few minutes, he told me (in Bengali, so the other passengers wouldn't understand) that he liked my outfit.

Let's be entirely clear... my outfit tonight is the sort of thing that would not be considered... high fashion. The significance of him complimenting me (in Bengali, no less) on my outfit was not lost on me.

We ended up having a great conversation about what it's like to be openly gay in New York as a Bengali Desi, and the role that families play in for those of us (ie, me) who exist in queer subcultures.

The other two passengers were idly checking their phones, completely unaware.

It's really hard to be openly queer as a first-generation immigrant from India or Bangladesh. In addition to what you face from your family, you also face extreme racism from gay communities.

He seemed surprised that I was coming from a gay party. (I was half surprised too!)

From what I can tell, seeing me dressed in absurdly, excessively gay attire coming from a Pride party without any concern as to who saw me waiting on the sidewalk for my Lyft (or who else was on the car) brightened his evening in a small way.

We had a conversation about masculinity in Bengali and American cultures, and the expectations that I felt beholden to (or not beholden to, as the case may be).

Pride is oftentimes a really hard time for queer Desis. Racism is rampant in the gay community, and so many "gay"-oriented spaces are more exclusionary to us than straight-oriented ones.

It took me years to begin to understand how to find my spaces within them.

Pride being a celebration of white-normative gayness, I didn't expect to begin my #Pride weekend by having a Moment™ with a Lyft driver who's not only Bengali, but also from the same town as my family, and with us both speaking our mother tongue.

Life surprises us sometimes. 💜

So often, we Desis are told we have to put aside that part of ourselves in order to participate in gay spaces. For the first night in #Pride weekend, it's nice to be reminded - in such an unexpected place! - that we shouldn't need to.

Yes, Desis can be queer.

Looking back the next morning, I should clarify one point: I don't know how that driver identifies. He didn't say, and I didn't ask. He may be gay, or queer, or neither. I didn't ask, because - perhaps surprisingly - the significance of moment was the same either way.

Desis in the diaspora are frequently pressured to fit ourselves into Western and Eurocentric labels. Oftentimes these labels fit like hand-me-down clothing: passable, but never comfortable.

Other diasporic people have similar experiences - African/African-Americans created the terms "Same-gender-loving"/"All-gender-loving" specifically for themselves. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Same_gend…

Ultimately, that driver may have been queer/a GSM/someone who doesn't conform to heteronormative and cisnormative roles.

Or, he could have been straight and cis, and simply happy to see the beauty and versatility of queer Desi life in the diaspora. I'll never know which.

The best conversations leave their essence unspoken.

Last night, a stranger and I were able to connect, free from the trappings of labels and the English language. We created a space filled with ambiguity. The ambiguity didn't hinder the meaning; it was the source of it. 🏳️‍🌈