Among the (many) reasons my mother cried when I came out of the closet was because of the future that awaited me.

She imagined me with a wife, taking care of children in a house of my own in the suburbs, while I worked in the city, with a moderately good car. My coming out meant only one thing: I would die alone, in a small rented apartment.

I don't blame her. She was learned to think that way. It is the life we have long been condemned to, particularly when she learned what it meant to be happy and successful. I came to hear that a marriage goes through many difficult trials, but that with children and a common heritage, a family can be sustained for many years until death.

At first I thought so. And even out of the closet and with a steady partner, my future looks like an adaptation of his ideal vision. Two cats, a working husband and our own apartment.

However, if we are currently challenging social norms with "new" expressions of gender, sexual identities and affective bonds, why do we follow traditional ideals of success (a.k.a. heteronormative)?

‍

The long road to representation

In the 1930's, a period between wars where nationalism and "good morals" were the determining factors, the Hays Code emerged in the United States. A series of rules to regulate content in the film and television industry.

Proposed and pushed by conservative, political and religious communities, this code sought to guard traditional values, uphold American culture and protect young audiences.

For decades, the following were censored: profanity, full or partial nudity, revenge themes, use of alcohol, ridiculed religious leaders, blasphemy, adultery, etc... and among all these, the representation of characters or situations indicating sexual preferences outside the norm.

This series of restrictions gave way to a phenomenon now known as Queer Coding.

While we couldn't be protagonists, heroines, or even good members of society, it was okay to play antagonistic characters that alluded (not overtly) to the LGBTIQ+ community. As long as, of course, we got our due as "the bad guys".

Then our existence was insinuated through stereotypes: effeminate, cowardly and spiteful men. Powerful, coarse and exaggerated women. We were lonely characters who complicated the lives of muscular, masculine heroes and imprisoned fragile, feminine princesses.

Over time, the Hays Code was put on the back burner, and several production companies took more liberties with their content.

And although in the 1960's this code was replaced by the current system of ratings (G, PG, PG-13, R, etc...), the practice of portraying villains as stereotypes of the community continued to happen even several decades later.

The representation of villains was diluted, but realities that focused exclusively on victimization began to be portrayed. Our lives became linked to loneliness, illness, rejection, controversy and death.

Increasingly, the boundaries were pushed. And representation was in the hands of queer artists who began to gain ground and to portray reality with justice and responsibility. Gradually the media accepted (not entirely) this new public.

Not as widely represented, but along the way, we are seeing queer characters approaching the norm. We begin to share, little by little, the spotlight with Disney royalty. We already have the right to a "they lived happily ever after", the final scene of the kiss, the nuptials, a home, children, family and now the success and happiness is ours.

But... success according to whom?

‍

Success is success

After World War II, global society began to experience unprecedented economic growth and prosperity. The world powers had the urgency to restore order to their societies and capitalism took hold. In this environment of prosperity and growth, the models of social success were very clear.

The ideal of the American family emerged. In the United States, huge housing areas were created and advertised with typical family scenes: the wife wearing an apron, baking a pie, while the husband came home from work and carried his children. That was happiness, a quiet life in the suburbs, guarded by the wife and maintained by the husband.

In Latin America, phenomena such as the "Mexican miracle" took place, where economic development was seen as never before and where the archetypes of the new (capitalist) powers were imitated. Some of these models are still in force or have been adapted: having a business, a stable job, a house in the suburbs, a car, a family, a life of hyper-productivity.

The inclusion and diversity we strive for (not just the LGBTIQ+ community) make room for and conform to these standards.

There is nothing wrong with following these models of success, but they are not the only ones. It is worth stopping for a second, taking a critical look at what we consider successful and questioning whether it is still valid for us in this new context.

‍

New models

Eventually, my mom and I realized that I was not destined for loneliness. And I also learned that I wasn't the only one who had this concern. Many people in my social circle also feared the same thing. Childless, in a volatile relationship, with a partner tied to nothing.

There has always been a generalized fear of similar lifestyles, of loneliness. What is invalid about deciding to live a life without a partner, without a family, without inherited binary roles?

Within this new representation, only some realities are made visible. The "normative", the "acceptable" is still present even in this "diversity". It doesn't matter if you are queer, as long as you are a successful, white, masculine man or a pretty, delicate, feminine woman. Buy a house, adopt two dogs and live in a lasting, happy marriage. Generate money.

Success, failure, family and life models permeate both discrimination and inclusion.

Of course, proposing other ways of life does not mean that we should stop our struggle for equal marriage, adoption opportunities, real estate credits and social security. Legality also gives us visibility and respects the freedom of all.

However, it is important to consider other communities: binary identities, LGBTIQ+ indigenous communities, trans communities, etc. And other models: couples without children, people without partners, polygamy, people without a fixed heritage, communities, etc.

What is it that we were taught to desire? What is it that we really desire?

In this struggle for diversity, we must be willing to give a chance to other ways of succeeding and redefine the vocabulary we relate to it. Tearing down models, proposing contexts, other ways of life and building new desires.

This transformation goes beyond gender and sexual preferences. It is about representing the complexity of the human being.

The possibility of living away from what success means, and even taking a step back and being willing to question and rethink what success or failure is in the first place.

What does loneliness mean? What is a community? What is wealth? What does failure look like and what opportunities are there after failure?

With so many expressions and identities, why should success be so limited?

‍

Want your team to feel safe to have these conversations? As part of The Failure Program, we have a variety of online courses, workshops and private events, plus a survey that will diagnose how they are managing psychological safety and failure in your company. Leave us your details and let's start collaborating to make failure work for you.