Four years ago, GLAAD added one more metric to the toolbox we have at our disposal for measuring the cultural standing of LGBTQ people in the US when they asked the Harris Poll to launch an index that explicitly asks respondents about their level of acceptance of LGBTQ people. The survey asks about the respondents’ level of comfort with interacting with LGBTQ people in everyday social situations like the doctor’s office or place of worship, whether LGBTQ respondents report experiencing discrimination, and the degree to which respondents support “equal rights” for LGBTQ people. As one would expect, the numbers have generally trended more and more towards acceptance as time and progress march on, with numbers either improving or staying the same since the beginning of the index. That is, until last year — when, as GLAAD CEO Sarah Kate Ellis puts it, “the acceptance pendulum abruptly stopped and swung in the opposite direction.”
Compiled in the Accelerating Acceptance report, the index found that after a dip in the reported discomfort in 2016, in 2017 levels of social discomfort with LGBTQ people rose across the board. More non-LGBTQ respondents than last year said they were either “somewhat” or “very” uncomfortable in every imagined hypothetical scenario, ranging from having an LGBTQ doctor to their child learning about LGBTQ history in school to finding out that their own family member is a member of the LGBTQ community. In the case of “learning [my] child was placed in a class with an LGBT teacher,” respondents were actually more uncomfortable than they were in 2014, the beginning of the survey.
Unsurprisingly, at the same time as the non-LGBTQ respondents are reporting their rising discomfort with us, the LGBTQ respondents are reporting higher levels of discrimination. (In 2017, 12% of the respondents self-identified as LGBTQ and 88% did not; in 2016, 17% of the respondents were LGBTQ.) Increased numbers of people reported discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity — the percentage jumped 11% since 2016 — as well as on the basis of disability, religion, age, and “other areas.” In fact, the only area in which LGBTQ respondents didn’t report increased discrimination was on the basis of race and ethnicity, which saw a 4% drop in reported discrimination.
Why such a sharp shift across the board? GLAAD suggests we look at the “heightened rhetoric toward marginalized
communities” that ramped up in a particular way during the election cycle in 2016 and stayed up after the inauguration in 2017, as well as the ways in which LGBTQ issues have appeared constantly in the headlines as a matter of debate and the fact that “LGBTQ visibility slipped in news and entertainment media.” (In our own analysis earlier this year, we noted that “in 2016, GLAAD’s annual report revealed that lesbian representation had gone down for the first time since 2004, and ‘while bisexual women are getting a small boost in visibility, it’s often coming at the cost of damaging cliché.’ Our Senior Editor Heather Hogan called 2016 ‘the most frustrating year ever for queer women who love television,’ even compared to years when we had ‘hardly any TV representation at all.'”)
It’s true that when far-right and ultraconservative candidates or issues are dominating the national conversation, especially when they become law, we see increased negative sentiment and violence against marginalized groups — racially and religiously motivated hate crimes rose by a shocking 41% in England and Wales after Brexit. The data for the 2017 survey was gathered from November 16-20 of 2017, in the heady weeks following the results of the US election and at a particular peak of intensely charged rhetoric.
Given that context, it’s interesting to note the one measured criteria of the Accelerating Acceptance report that didn’t change from 2016 to 2017 — the response to the statement “I support equal rights for the LGBT community.” In both 2016 and 2017, 79% of respondents said they either “somewhat” or “strongly” agreed. It’s interesting, given the results of the rest of the survey and the specific wording of the statement, what “equal rights” might mean to the non-LGBTQ respondents. Does it mean the right to safety from harm, to accessible and competent medical treatment, to form families and parent children, to be visibly LGBTQ in public without fear? If straight and cis people are growing more uncomfortable with us as part of their daily life and communities, if they report not wanting us to treat their illnesses or teach their children — what rights to a fully lived and safe public life do they really support for us, and to what extent would they prefer to back an abstract and undemanding sense that “love wins?” Unfortunately, there are some answers the survey can’t give us.
It’s a somewhat grim but ultimately unsurprising reveal, given the direction national discourse and policy have taken in the past year and a half for marginalized people in the US in general and including LGBTQ people. The parallel of the President choosing Mike Pence as his running mate, attempting to ban trans people from the US military, firing the entire HIV/AIDS advisory council, allowing his administration to ban the words “diversity” and “transgender” at the Department of Health and Human Services, opening the doors for rampant life-threatening discrimination against LGBT people in healthcare, specifically revoking Obama-era protections for trans employees and so many other things — and also literally waving a rainbow flag is a bit on the nose, but unfortunately apt. In an era defined for many marginalized people by a deep cognitive schism between the protections and support we’re told we’re afforded and the reality we experience, this shift in support is disappointing but not surprising.
Well this is well reported and depressing.
Elections matter. Go out and vote. Get involved. Drive people to the polls if you can. Elections matter.
UGH. Thanks for reporting on this, Rachel.
This is a really good article; also, fuck everything.
The recent political climate has left people emboldened to be open about their hate of choice. They are less ashamed of being racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, etc…
I’ve been working at my current job for 2.5 years, and only recently have I had families express a concern about their young children “being exposed” to gays and lesbians in children’s media. And as a professional in their homes, I am at a loss for what to say and thus doesn’t say anything. But it’s sad.
I too would be a at a loss as I grew up watching straight media, and still turned out trans and queer. The only thing some of the media I saw taught me to hate myself and other trans women. Children’s media more specifically, also taught me to be more tolerant of others than my parents did for the most part.
One problem I see with this report is that using LGBTQ as shorthand erases the significant difference between popular views of cis gay/bi people and trans/nb people.
It’s possible that cis straight people are regressing in their attitude towards cis gay/bi people, but I’m not sure that’s the case. I honestly think that a lot of cis straight ‘detached supporters’ who have gotten used to cis gay/bi people to the point of not hating/fearing us have only discovered that trans people existed in the last few years and now they’re caught up in a backlash. Their latent transphobia is now revealing itself due to increased trans visibility and the deliberate scapegoating of trans people by the GOP.
‘Tis a very interesting time to be a black, queer, woman. Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you for sharing
Given the climate of fear,distrust and uncertainty that pervades much of the world at the moment as well as heightened levels of anger and acceptance of generally rude and antisocial behaviour it not too much of a surprise that some people have slipped in their wholehearted support of “othered” groups.
Hopefully, our continued positive interactions and heightened profiles will reverse this trend.
As a teacher (in a state where I am not legally protected), I have often tried to explain to my friends and family why I didn’t feel safe coming out to my school community. It felt like many people thought I was being too careful… that things were “ok” now. Beyond some homophobic comments a couple of parents had said to me (not knowing they were talking about me), I didn’t have any concrete reasons to feel as afraid as I did. The statistic that about 30% of parents feel uncomfortable with an LGBT teacher is exactly what I am afraid of. In a class of 20, this is about 6 families. That is a lot of hate to navigate every day. I feel sad that I have to continue to live two lives and can’t be myself around people I care deeply about. I also want to scream some empathy for all queer aspiring teachers… there is space for you in teaching. Don’t give up.