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The Worst Thing to Say When Someone Says They're Bisexual

The Worst Thing to Say When Someone Says They're Bisexual

More people identify as bisexual than as lesbian or gay. Yet bisexuality tends to be largely misunderstood, and people who are bi are exposed to 'so many negative messages, both from heterosexual people and from lesbian and gay people,' says Tania Israel, a professor emerit of counseling psychology at the University of California, Santa Barbara, who gave a TEDx Talk on bisexuality. 'A lot of bisexual people don't actually openly identify as bisexual, to a large extent because of the concern about exclusion and the negativity that they get.'
The worst—and most common—reaction Israel hears is that bisexuality doesn't exist. When someone says they're bi, other people often scoff, challenging what the other person told them or retorting that they must simply be confused. 'Some people will say, 'Well, I think it's just a phase—you're on your way to coming out as lesbian or gay,'' Israel says. 'Interestingly, people often think that bisexual women are really straight, and bisexual men are really gay. Everybody thinks people are actually attracted to men.'
Why people tend to dismiss bisexuality
Gender still plays a prominent role in how many people categorize others. When someone reveals that gender isn't the most important characteristic in terms of who they're attracted to, or shares that they're attracted to more than one gender, 'that really threatens this primacy of gender,' Israel says.
Read More: What to Say When a Loved One Comes Out
Derogatory, invalidating comments can take a toll on people who identify as bi. 'One of the things we know is that when people encounter those kinds of messages, it can affect their mental health,' Israel says. 'It certainly can affect their relationship with that person, and it can also affect whether or not they want to share that information with other people.'
A slew of offensive remarks
Another bucket of common responses when someone reveals they're bi: comments that reduce the person to their sexuality or hypersexualize them. 'They're like, 'OK, bisexuals exist, but only for sex,'' Israel says. People often make comments like: 'Are you coming on to me?' Or, if they come out as bisexual to their partner, their partner might think that they're trying to open the relationship. 'The assumption is that bisexual people must have sex at all times, with more than one gender,' Israel says. 'Another terrible thing people do is, they'll say, 'Oh, do you want to have a threesome?' It's reducing somebody to sex, and it's very objectifying.'
Sometimes, people take another approach: They tell the person who's bisexual to 'prove it.' Israel has found that they might ask: "Have you had sex with both men and women? Are you equally attracted to both men and women?' 'It's very intrusive,' she says. 'There's a huge basket of terrible things people can say.'
What to say instead
When people are appropriately supportive to those who are bisexual, it can make a 'measurable difference in terms of positive mental health,' Israel says.
There are a variety of ways to do that. For starters, when someone comes out as bi to you, thank them for telling you and trusting you. Let them know you're there for them if they need an ear, and consider adding: 'I'd love to hear more about what bisexuality means to you, because any sexual orientation can mean so many different things,' Israel suggests. It can be helpful to add: 'I know there are a lot of great things about being bisexual, but I also know that bisexual people sometimes face negativity and exclusion. What's it been like for you?'
Read More: The Surprising Health Benefits of Spicy Food
Make it a point, too, to ask your friend whether they've been able to find good role models and resources. People who are bi tend to be less connected with the LGBTQ+ community, Israel says, which can lead to feelings of isolation. Organizations like amBi have chapters around the U.S., and the Bisexual Resource Center works to help the bi community thrive.
If you're not bisexual, make it a point to learn more about how your friend identifies, too. That can help ensure you have the most supportive conversations possible. 'It's not uncommon for stereotypes to pop up in people's minds when somebody comes out to them, so this is one of those times where if that happens, you don't necessarily need for it to come out of your mouth,' Israel says. 'It's helpful to educate yourself—but not to rely on a bisexual person to educate you about bisexuality. Go do some of your own learning, and then you can be a more supportive person.'
Wondering what to say in a tricky social situation? Email timetotalk@time.com

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Archaeologist uncovers 'persuasive' evidence of true location where Jesus turned water into wine
Archaeologist uncovers 'persuasive' evidence of true location where Jesus turned water into wine

Fox News

time2 hours ago

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Archaeologist uncovers 'persuasive' evidence of true location where Jesus turned water into wine

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The California story we keep erasing
The California story we keep erasing

Los Angeles Times

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The California story we keep erasing

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I've spent most of the last five years digging into California's past to expose UC's role on the wrong side of history, in particular Native American history. Beginning in the early 20th century, scholars at Berkeley (and at USC and the Huntington Library) played a central role in shaping the state's public, cultural identity. They wrote textbooks and popular histories, consulted with journalists and amateur historians, and generated a semiofficial narrative that depicted Indigenous peoples as frozen in time and irresponsible stewards of the land. Their version of California's story reimagined land grabs and massacres as progress and popularized the fiction that Native people quietly vanished into the premodern past. Today, prodded by new research and persistent Indigenous organizing, tribal groups and a later generation of historians have worked to set the record straight. For thousands of years, California tribes and the land they lived on thrived, the result of creative adaptation to changing circumstances. When Spanish and American colonizers conquered the West, tribal groups resisted. In fact, the state was one of the country's bloodiest regions in the 19th century, deserving of a vocabulary that we usually associate with other countries and other times: pogroms, ethnic cleansing, apartheid, genocide. Despite this devastation, California's population today includes more than 100 tribes and rancherias. Very few details from authentic pre-California history filter into our public spaces, our cultural common knowledge. I've become a collector of the retrospective fantasies we consume instead — those few sentences in the Berkeley visitors' guide, Google, whitewashed facts on menus, snippets on maps and in park brochures, what's engraved on a million wall plaques and enshrined on roadside markers. 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The wordy label explains that the whiskey is named after 'a sparsely populated area' in Northern California characterized by an 'often inaccessible coastline drenched in fog, rocky cliffs, and steep mountains' and 'home to majestic coastal redwoods.' It's a place 'where you can connect with Nature' but apparently not with the tribes who make it their home now and have done since time immemorial. Traditional travel guides skip the most troubling information and emphasize California as an exemplar of diversity and prosperity. The bad old days are blamed on Franciscan missionaries who, according to the 1997 Eyewitness Travel Guide for the state, 'used natives as cheap labor' and on 'European colonists who committed a more serious crime by spreading diseases that would reduce the native population to about 16,000 by 1900.' 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A practical guide to being an ally in the workplace
A practical guide to being an ally in the workplace

Fast Company

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A practical guide to being an ally in the workplace

Pride Month is here, and there's no question we've come a long way since the first Pride events, which advocated for collective solidarity, individual identity, and resistance to discrimination and violence. Yet we still have much further to go. According to one recent report from the University of California at Los Angeles, nearly half of LGBTQ workers have experienced workplace discrimination or harassment at some point in their professional lives. Add in microaggressions, or the everyday slights that happen in plain sight in front of colleagues and managers, and the number is even higher. Here's where allies can make a difference—and there are plenty of them. One PRRI public opinion report indicates that three-quarters of Americans support policies that protect LGBTQ Americans from discrimination in housing, employment, and public accommodation. But being an ally to any minority is hard, especially when it's not always obvious when someone identifies as LBGTQIA+. So how can you be a better ally and bolster inclusion at work? Here are three ways (plus a bonus!) to be a more effective ally to the LGBTQIA+ community, from a business leader who also happens to be a lesbian. 1. Educate yourself Allyship isn't a passive thing that shows up without effort. Take it upon yourself to understand the struggles of your LGBTQIA+ colleagues and actively try to create change in your workplace. The LGBTQIA+ label is a huge catchall (and a long acronym by any measure). Learning about the everyday experiences of even part of this community is a great starting point to better understanding the struggles we face. In turn, you can take steps to become a more effective ally and drive informed change. At the very least, it'll help you recognize when you have the opportunity to stand up for, or against, something on our behalf. Checking unconscious biases is also part of this narrative. Being self-aware to identify behaviors we're not usually conscious of is the first step in learning how to avoid unintentionally acting on them. 2. Recognize your privilege and use it for good You don't have to apologize for it, you don't have to hide it, but you do need to understand your privilege and the power it bestows. Being a heterosexual person in the workplace—and in the world—gives you the chance to make a difference. It allows you to challenge bias, tackle unfairness, and effect change. And for a heteronormative individual, you can often do those things with far lesser risk. So be vocal. This doesn't have to be in a big, highly visible way—it can be as simple as respecting someone's chosen name or pronouns, and encouraging or gently correcting other people if they defer to the traditional he/she binaries. You have the armor of privilege. Embrace it and then use it to open doors for those who don't have that same protection. Incidentally, having these conversations outside of the workplace with family and friends educates them on what being an effective ally can look like and what they can do to help. The more people we can bring to a place of understanding and support, the deeper the change. 3. Change the culture Consistency is a major win when it comes to good allyship. It's essential to building trust and driving lasting change, so model inclusive behaviors. How? Good allies share opportunities with others: they cut out (and call out) microaggressions thinly disguised as banter; they use inclusive language with intention and sincerity; they listen to a member of the community over coffee and welcome someone into their space. It can be as simple as being the voice against presumptions in the workplace. I've seen this myself when colleagues default to gendered generalities. For example, there's using he/him pronouns when referring to generic or hypothetical humans ('Whoever we bring onboard, he should be highly skilled'). Or assuming someone's gender on the basis of their name when you don't actually know the person or how they identify ('I haven't met Ryan, but I hope he's top-notch'). By gently correcting ('Whoever we bring onboard, they should be highly skilled' or 'I haven't met Ryan, but I hope they're top-notch'), you remind others that gender isn't always what it seems—and that not everyone fits neatly into a gender normative box. It can also be about consciously changing patterned social behaviors. For example, if a coworker mentions that they're married, don't assume they have a husband or wife of a different gender. I can't count the number of times colleagues and clients have asked me 'What does your husband do?' over the years. I've had to come out again and again over the span of my career. Instead, consider asking about who they most enjoy spending time with outside of work or who the important people are in their life. It's an open question that, when asked in an authentic and respectful way, invites the other person to share within their own level of comfort. Continue to challenge the microaggressions. Culture change doesn't come solely from the top. It comes from repetition, from small corrections, and from people like you choosing to do the right thing consistently. The bonus: Don't beat yourself up The ever-evolving language of inclusion means we all trip up occasionally, even with the best of intentions. No one expects you to get it right every time. Don't sweat it. Even we trip up within our own community, be it over chosen names, pronouns, or how we support our loved ones who are transitioning. Give yourself some grace. If you make a mistake, apologize, learn, and keep going. Don't let a slip-up stop you from showing up. Allyship isn't about being perfect. 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