Learning to be straight : masculinity, heterosexuality, and homophobia in Irish secundary schools

(1)

Learning to Be Straight: Masculinity, Heterosexuality,

and Homophobia in Irish Secondary Schools.

Name: Conor Scully

Student Number: 11659459

First Reader: Dr. Sarah Bracke

Second Reader: Dr. Paul Mepschen

Word Count: 22,438

Date of Submission: July 6th, 2018

Submitted as part of the MA Sociology (Gender, Sexuality

and Society) at the University of Amsterdam.

(2)

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Sarah Bracke and Paul Mepschen for their advice and expertise. A big hug to all my friends and classmates who made my year in Amsterdam such a fascinating and stimulating time - Hannah, Zoe, Lydia, Andrea, Lou and Johanna - we did it!. Much love to Bella Fitzpatrick, doing trojan work at ShoutOut in order to make Irish schools better for all the queer kids - you are heroic.

This thesis was mostly researched and written in April and May 2018, a time when Ireland was gearing up for a referendum to repeal the Eighth Amendment to the constitution, which criminalised abortion in all circumstances. This one goes out to all the spectacular Irish women who fought tirelessly to get rid of this rubbish law which cast them as second-class citizens - Stand In Awe Of All Mná.

(3)

My time as a student in my Irish secondary school was marked by the pervading fear that I would be “found out” as a homosexual by my friends and classmates. Although it was unlikely I would have suffered extreme homophobia if I did come out of the closet, I nonetheless chose to try to “pass” as heterosexual for the entire six years I spent as a high school student. Ahmed (1999) argues that living in the grey area between seemingly discrete identity categories allows us to understand better those who inhabit these categories with apparent ease. As such, my experiences trying to be straight illuminate the many ways in which teenage boys discipline themselves to enact heterosexual masculinity in the correct way. All through school I undertook behaviour that was coded as “straight” in a crude approximation of how my straight friends conducted themselves. I made comments about finding female classmates attractive, engaged in homophobic and misogynistic banter, and told exaggerated stories of sexual and romantic encounters with girls. I was acutely aware of the shambolic nature of my performance, and bemoaned that this behaviour, which was such a struggle for me to enact, seemed to come naturally to my friends. I assumed at the time that this was down to some essential difference between heterosexuals and homosexuals. My peers were not exactly fooled by my act, and I was subject to mild levels of homophobia, as fellow students used homophobic slurs against me and questioned the veracity of my claims to heterosexuality.

Since graduating from school I have conducted workshops on the topic of sexuality in Irish secondary schools, worked as a residential staff member as several summer camps, and tutored teenagers in their homes. I have seen first hand the varied and sometimes contradictory ways boys navigate aspects of their own identities, and how this navigation takes place in relation to, and sometimes creates, homophobia. It is my own experiences, as a student and as a teacher, that provided me with the initial desire to investigate this issue further. I no longer believe it is the case that heterosexual masculinity is in any way natural, and this project is an attempt to uncover some of its workings.

In “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence” (1986), Adrienne Rich called for heterosexuality to be studied as an institution to the same degree that so-called deviant sexualities are. Since then, there has been a significant body of research examining how heterosexuality, far from being natural or innate, is an identity requiring just as much cultivation and with just as much internal divergence as homosexuality. As Mac an Ghaill notes: “male heterosexual identity is a highly fragile, socially constructed phenomenon” (1994, p. 9). The school is a key environment in which this cultivation takes place, and theorists have noted how high school is seen as a place where teenagers become “who they really are” (Connell, 1996). Combining these two ideas, and

(5)

borrowing a phrase from Paul Willis’s famous study Learning to Labour (1977), we can understand school as a location in which boys learn to be straight.

Masculinity scholars have examined the various ways in which boys learn and demonstrate their heterosexual identities at school - with mechanisms like those I recall above. Studies have been done showing how boys use humour and tell stories about sexual conquests (Kehily and Nayak, 1997; Epstein, 1997; Pascoe, 2007) to “show off” their sexuality. Additionally, boys in many cases suppress any sexual feelings they might have towards members of the same sex (Messner, 1999). If same-sex sexual activity does take place, they code it as “experimentation” and thus not indicative of a non-straight sexual identity (Mac an Ghaill, 1994). Further, research has been done specifically on how this heterosexual performance produces homophobia, as boys have to constantly distance themselves from the “spectre” of homosexuality in order to affirm their straightness (Kimmel, 2001; Pascoe, 2007). This might be done through homophobic jokes or by using phrases such as “That’s so gay” in order to consolidate their own heterosexual masculinity in relation to the homosexual Other.

This study aims to uncover how boys in Irish schools cultivate their sexual identities and demonstrate them to their peers, in a climate defined less and less by explicit homophobia (Anderson, 2009). I will seek to uncover how boys understand their own heterosexual identities, and what relation they perceive between sexuality and masculinity. Recent research has hypothesised that boys have more scope to enact non-traditional masculinity as explicit displays of homophobia have declined in the West (Anderson and McCormack, 2016). Central to this project will be the role that humour and homosexually-themed language (McCormack, 2011) play in boys’ masculine performances. My research questions are:

How do boys cultivate and perform a masculine, heterosexual identity in the school environment?

How do boys use humour and homosexually-themed language as part of this enactment?

How does this enactment produce homophobia?

In order to investigate these questions, I conducted fieldwork in Ireland over a month-long period with the charity ShoutOut. ShoutOut delivers workshops in Irish secondary schools, encouraging students to discuss issues of gender and sexuality, with the absolute aim of tackling homophobic bullying and making schools more hospitable places. As such, working with ShoutOut provided a

(6)

fruitful means of uncovering the complex and in many cases contradictory opinions held by Irish teenage boys. In chapter one I outline my theoretical framework and survey current work in this area, while in chapter two I provide a full discussion of my research methodology. In chapters three, four and five I lay out my findings and discuss how they extend, augment or contradict existing work. I end with a brief conclusion summarising my work and suggesting possible directions for future research.  

(7)

Chapter One - Theoretical Framework

In this section I will lay out the bodies of knowledge in which I situate this work. Firstly, I will outline how the conception of gender and sexuality that underscores my research is informed by the work of Judith Butler and Michel Foucault, specifically their respective theories of gender performativity and discipline. Secondly, I will detail work within the framework of hegemonic masculinity theory, which is similarly central to this study of masculinity, as well as numerous other pieces of work in the same vein. Finally, on a more micro level, I will examine recent studies which detail the specific mechanisms through which boy project their masculine identities, focusing on homosexually-themed language and humour. I would like to note before beginning this chapter that my decision to use Butler and Foucault to inform this work is by no means the only way I could have approached this topic, and I am conscious that my findings will be affected by these theoretical choices. Approaching this topic from a different perspective, for example using a new materialist lens (Alldred and Fox, 2015), would no doubt illustrate my data in a different way.

i. Heterosexuality as performance

The work of Judith Butler and Michel Foucault allows us to envision heterosexuality as a self-disciplining performance. In Gender Trouble, Butler outlines her theory of gender performativity: gender is not static, nor is it exogenous to human behaviour. Rather, humans repeatedly perform gender, and this repetition creates the illusion that gender exists prior to our enacting of it. Although gender is created through performance, Butler stresses that it is not the case that we consciously choose our gender and wilfully perform it every day. As Butler notes in Bodies That Matter:

…if I were to argue that genders are performative, that could mean I thought that one woke in the morning, perused the closet or some more open space for the gender of choice, donned that gender for the day, then restored the garment to its place at night (1993, p. x)

Gender is thus understood as a structure that acts to bring the subject into being in an intelligible way. People cannot exist “prior” to gender, we are, in Butler’s words, “always already” gendered.

Subsequent to Butler’s work on gender performativity is her writing on what she calls the “heterosexual matrix”, which outlines her conception of the relationship between gender and sexuality. A key mechanism for the development of stable, dichotomous genders is opposite-sex desire - gender identity and heterosexuality are mutually reinforcing. Repudiation of same-sex desire is therefore central to this stabilising process: “gender is achieved and stabilised through the

(8)

accomplishment of heterosexual positioning and where the threats to heterosexuality thus become threats to gender itself” (1995, p.168). So, from Butler we can understand heterosexuality and gender identity as complementary and interdependent processes.

The school is a key institution which helps to shape the gender and sexuality enactments of students. Connell (1996) argues that this happens in two ways. Firstly, the school can be an active agent in the reproduction of social norms, for example by teaching a curriculum containing heteronormative material. Secondly, the school is a setting in which pupils interact with each other and learn to behave in social acceptable ways. Foucault is useful for understanding how institutions serve to inscribe norms onto the subject. In Discipline and Punish (1975), he outlines how power shifted from being enacted purely in a top-down manner to a situation where people discipline themselves into ideal citizens. Regimes of power shape and define the subject, and thus power operates in a dynamic and unpredictable fashion, from within and without (Downing, 2008). Although Discipline and Punish was written about the development of the prison system, Foucault’s analysis is also illuminating in the setting of the school. Indeed, as he notes: “Is it surprising that prisons resemble factories, schools, barracks, hospitals; which all resemble prisons?” (1975, p. 228, emphasis added).

One of the ways power operates is through normalisation, a process by which people come to embody certain norms, and subsequently behave in such a way so as not to deviate from them. People are rewarded when they stick to these norms and punished when they transgress from them, and we measure ourselves against others to see who embodies, or fails to embody, the dominant discourse (Foucault, 1975). Using Foucault’s work, we can understand heterosexuality as a norm that gets produced and enacted by students in the school environment. In a heterosexist society, students must constantly check themselves to ensure they are enacting or performing heterosexuality in the correct way. The heterosexual identity of male student is thus not one that exists outside of their embodiment of it, rather it is one they cultivate and manage.

ii. Abject bodies and the “fag discourse”

Intrinsically linked with Butler’s work on gender performativity is her notion of abject bodies, the idea that the creation and maintenance of a stable identity is premised upon the repudiation of a “domain of unthinkable, abject, unliveable bodies” (1993, p. xi). These exist in part to demonstrate everything that the coherent subject is not, and it is in opposition to these bodies that the subject becomes knowable and liveable. Thus, performativity not only takes place in adherence to certain norms, but against these other bodies, from which the subject must constantly distance himself. Butler emphasises that these abject bodies are also created through repeated iteration: “the

(9)

subject is constituted through the force of exclusion and abjection, one which produces a constitutive outside, which is, after all, “inside” the subject as its own founding repudiation” (1993, p. 3). Butler advises us to examine the abject body as a resource to help us better understand how subjects get formed.

Following on from this, we can understand heterosexuality as a performance which also requires that creation and repudiation of a homosexual “Other” from which the heterosexual subject must constantly distance himself. This process is what C.J. Pascoe calls the “fag discourse” (2007). The “fag” is used as a disciplinary mechanism against which the actions of boys are judged. A successful enactment of masculinity is one that is not “faggy” - thus, masculinity and heterosexuality are linked. Burn (2000) conceives of this distinction in terms of an in-group/out-group dichotomy. Masculinity is performed both in adherence to the heterosexual in-in-group/out-group and against the homosexual out-group. Pascoe and others (Mac an Ghaill, 1994; Kimmel, 2001) emphasise how the fag discourse is not necessarily connected to actual homosexuality, being used in more general terms to describe something which is deemed to be un-masculine. As Plummer notes, homophobic words are often “used in reference to boys who [stand] out from their peers because they [are] slow to develop physically, soft, shy, smart and/or [show] insufficient commitment to male peer group structures” (2001, p. 20).

Conversely, Pascoe stresses that students might actually be able to be openly homosexual without embodying the fag discourse, as long as they demonstrate traditionally masculine traits. A participant in a study by Epstein (1997) notes that he and his boyfriend rarely encounter homophobic abuse at school: “We were both in the rugby team and everybody left us alone… When you were as tall and as powerful as we were, people just didn’t mess [with us]” (1997, p. 108).

So, from Pascoe we can conceptualise the “fag” as being all that is outside the domain of acceptable masculinity, and against which the actions of boys are constantly judged. Boys who most successfully embody heterosexual masculinity are more like to occupy a better position in the “heterosexist hegemony” of the school (Smith, 1998).

iii. Hegemonic Masculinity, Hybrid Masculinities, and Homophobia

Central to this thesis is the theory of hegemonic masculinity, first developed by R.W. Connell and subsequently refined and applied in various fields. Connell argues that there exists a dominant, “ideal” form of masculinity that few men actually embody, but against which the actions of all men are judged. The creation and maintenance of hegemonic masculinity is one of the mechanisms

(10)

that allows the domination of women by men to continue (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005). Situated in hierarchical relation to hegemonic masculinity, and afforded less of a societal caché than it are other forms of masculinity: complicit masculinities, subordinated masculinities, and marginalised masculinities (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005). Thus, hegemonic masculinity achieves what Demetriou (2001) calls external dominance (men over women) and internal dominance (men over other groups of men).

In his original formulation of hegemonic masculinity, Connell argued that the form of masculinity that actually achieves hegemony is different in different social contexts. Thus, in some groups traditionally tough and masculine men might embody hegemonic masculinity, whereas other groups might value a less tough, more sensitive (but no less dominant) typology (Connell, 1995).

In a critique of hegemonic masculinity, Demetriou argues that Connell’s conception of hegemonic masculinity is too static, and ignores how hegemonic masculinity incorporates elements of subordinated and marginalised masculinities in order to maintain its exalted position:

I want to deconstruct Connell’s binaries between non-hegemonic masculinities and hegemonic masculinity and conceptualise the latter as a hybrid bloc that unites various and diverse practices in order to construct the best possible strategy for the reproduction of patriarchy (2001, p. 348)

Demetriou details specifically how hegemonic masculinity took on aspects of gay masculinities from the 1970s onwards, incorporating traditionally homosexual ways of dressing and presenting oneself. This is an example of “dialectical pragmatism” that continues the reproduction of patriarchy, as well as the dominance of some men vis-a-vis other men, in “historically novel ways” (2001, p. 350).

This concept of “hybrid masculinities” has been picked up by numerous authors, and there exists a split in the literature between those, like Demetriou, who believe the hybridisation of hegemonic masculinity serves to reinforce both patriarchy and internal hegemony, and those (Anderson and McCormack, 2016) who believe it signals declining levels of both misogyny and homophobia.

Following on from Demetriou, Bridges (2014) argues that the incorporation of elements deemed to be homosexual is a key mechanism by which heterosexual men maintain their dominant position in society. He writes that straight men assimilate the tastes, behaviours and, in some cases, ideologies they believe are homosexual into their self-presentation. In doing so, they are able to tacitly position themselves against “most men” (those they deem to be hyper-masculine) while still

(11)

maintaining a boundary between themselves and men who are actually gay. Thus, they notionally undermine hegemonic masculinity but in reality align themselves with it: “The men in this study utilised gay aesthetic to fill the perceived emptiness of straight masculinities - but they maintained a heterosexual identity and thus continued to benefit from the privileges associated with heterosexuality” (Bridges, 2014, p. 77).

Similarly, Bridges and Pascoe (2014) write that this incorporation happens not only with regards to gay masculinities, but also with black masculinities and working-class masculinities. Echoing the comment above, they write that:

…young White men borrow practices and identities from young, gay, Black or urban men in order to boost their masculine capital, [and] research shows that these practices often work simultaneously to reaffirm these subordinated groups as deviant (2014, p. 253)

A recurring theme in the research collected by Bridges and Pascoe is that white heterosexual masculinity is deemed to be boring or uninteresting. Thus, straight white men feel the need to include aspects of subordinated masculinities in their own masculine identities, but do in a way that perpetuates inequalities of race, class and sexuality. So, hybrid masculinity is construed as a practice that reinforces the hegemonic masculine position.

In contrast to this position is the idea that the altering of the nature of masculinity occurs in tandem with, and reinforces, lower levels of homophobia. Anderson and McCormack (2016) call this phenomenon “inclusive masculinity theory”, and developed it from empirical studies of men’s sports teams and university organisations, such as fraternities. They emphasise how heterosexual men are more likely to have gay friends, enact behaviours that would once have been considered homosexual (such as being emotionally intimate with male friends), and do not express explicit homophobia. It is not that homophobia has disappeared, but rather it has declined enough for men to be able to project masculinity in a non-homophobic way.

Anderson (2009) believes a useful term for understanding this shift is what he calls homohysteria - the fear of being perceived as gay. He believes that masculinity only produces homophobia in societies characterised by high levels of homohysteria - thus, in places where homohysteria is low, men are able to perform their heterosexuality in new ways that would once have been coded as gay.

(12)

Following on from Anderson and McCormack, Dean (2014) writes about the performance of heterosexuality, taking decreasing levels of homophobia as his point of departure. In his book Straights: Heterosexuality in Post-Closeted Culture, he argues that masculinity and homophobia have become disentangled, and that straight men have had to find new ways to project their heterosexual identities. Gay and lesbian people are more visible than ever in society, and therefore straight people can no longer count on being perceived as such immediately. He documents various practices used by straight men to demonstrate their sexuality, such as mentioning an interest in a member of the opposite sex or prominently displaying picture of themselves with their opposite-sex partner. Dean emphasises that in the majority of cases, heterosexual men largely retain the privileges afforded to straight people in heteronormative society, but in a way that is distanced from the production of homophobia.

To sum up, current research on heterosexual masculinity emphasises its performative nature as a cultivated identity. Dean notes: “Straight identities are socially constructed processes that each individual accomplishes through negotiating a diverse array of everyday social institutions” (2014, p. 2). My project will try to uncover the processes by which this takes place in the context of Irish schools. Recent studies are in less agreement about the extent to which this projection of heterosexual masculinity is premised upon the creation of homophobia. Authors such as Pascoe (2007) argue that masculinity and homophobia and tightly connected through the “fag discourse”, while those like Dean (2014) and Anderson and McCormack (2016) believe the relationship is not so intrinsic. My work will hopefully shed new light on this theoretical division.

iv. Homosexually-themed language

Several authors have written specifically about the use of homosexually-themed language, such as the phrase “that’s so gay”, and its role in the projection of a heterosexual masculine identity (Plummer, 2001). Language like this is a key way that men can consolidate their own heterosexuality, and at the same time distance themselves from homosexuality. As such, it forms a key part of what Pascoe (2007) calls the “fag discourse”, and is thus one of the means by which boys can police each other’s behaviour to keep it within a socially acceptable level. Anyone who transgresses from an acceptable enactment of heterosexual masculinity is deemed a “fag”, “gay” etc. Further, authors as far back as Mac an Ghaill in The Making of Men (1994) have noted that language such as this is not necessarily directed at anything explicitly to do with sexuality - rather, it gets used to deride anything that is deemed to be un-masculine. Plummer notes that “while words like poofter and faggot could be used to refer to boys who acted like girls, they were also used to refer to boys who were different in other ways” (2001, p. 20) - these “other ways” generally acting “soft” or “weak”. Of note also is that while homosexually-themed language is often used in

(13)

targeted ways akin to bullying, it is more frequently part of a broader scheme of humour - as such, students can mask any homophobic intent by claiming they were just “having a laugh”. In his ethnography of five Dublin schools, O’Higgins-Norman notes that “For the most part the young people in this study minimised the use of homophobic words as ‘just messing’” (2008, p. 389). So, phrases like “that’s so gay” have been theorised as a key mechanism by which boys can assert their own hetero-masculinity and Other-ise gay or un-masculine peers.

In recent years, some authors have theorised that homosexually-themed language has become disengaged from homophobia, and is no longer used as a way of asserting masculinity. Words like “gay” in most instances become synonymous with “bad”, such that “that’s gay” is understood as “that sucks”. Accounting for the continued use of “gay” in particular, but believing it to be removed from homophobia, McCormack (2011) speaks of gay discourse. He notes that “the word gay has been used as an expression of displeasure without intent to reflect or transmit homophobia in many contemporary youth settings” (p. 670). His work developed from ethnographic work in British secondary schools (see for example Blanchard, McCormack and Peterson, 2017), and is situated within the framework of inclusive masculinity theory. Warwick and Aggleton (2014) similarly argue that efforts to tackle homophobia which label the use of the word “gay” as homophobic miss the nuance in how it is used by teenagers. Going further than this, McCormack (2011) also theorises pro-gay discourse, which is the use of homosexually-themed language to enhance male bonding, between students both gay and straight. Homosexually-themed language is therefore not just non-homophobic in many instances, but also occasionally anti-non-homophobic.

Following on from this, McCormack, Wignall and Morris (2016) argue that not only is homosexually-themed language no longer a way for boys to demonstrate their masculinity, it is also less and less likely to be viewed as homophobic by non-straight students. They believe homosexually-themed language needs to be understood within what they term the intent-context-effect matrix. When words like “fag” are used without homophobic intent, and in a cultural context of decreasing homophobia (in which they believe we are living), then they are not viewed as offensive by gay people. Drawing from a study of 35 college-age gay men, they write that “The majority of participants rejected the notion that ‘that’s so gay’ and similar phrases were inherently homophobic” (2016, p. 748). However, they also concede that within the specific context of the school, different groups of students will not share the same values, and it would be difficult for gay students to understand the speaker’s intent if someone they hear using the word “gay” (p. 758). Additionally, their study is biased towards men who are out of the closet, and are therefore likely to have experienced less homophobia or were more able to overcome it. It is much more difficult to determine the effect of homosexually-themed language on students who remain closed through secondary school. Burn (2000) argues that words like “gay” and “fag” create an overall climate

(14)

which makes it more difficult for gay men to come to terms with their sexual identity. Smith (1998) similarly notes that homosexually-themed language plays a key role in the creation of a “heterosexist hegemony” within schools that makes gay people internalise negative ideas about themselves. A quantitative study from Woodford et al. (2012) indicates that phrases such as “that’s so gay” are connected with high feelings of social isolation amongst LGBT people. They argue that “It is important to understand that “that’s so gay” is a microaggression, not just an insensitive expression” (p. 433)

This research will attempt to add new perspective to this field, by uncovering both how students in Irish secondary schools use homosexually-themed language, and how they understand this usage. I will not create a dichotomy of homophobic/non-homophobic and apply this to students, rather I will try to tease out the nuances behind their phraseology. I will further try to find out the extent to which students themselves are affected by this language, and whether they perceive it to be homophobic.

v. Humour

Humour acts as both a way of creating or enhancing social bonds between people and as a means of defining social boundaries between different groups. The relationship between humour and moral boundaries, as outlined by Kuipers (2008), is integral to this process of inclusion and exclusion. As humour is often transgressive by nature and involves jokes made at the expense of things which are deemed to be outré, the shared willingness to “make fun of” something is a way people can build solidarity with their peers. At the same time, this humour excludes others who do not share this transgressive desire: “People who are upset at humour may be seen as ‘uptight’ or exposed as having no sense of humour” (Kuipers, 2008, p. 230). Indeed, it is this supposed ‘uptightness’ - signified by a lack of desire to engage in humour that is sexist or in other ways problematic - that is the defining feature of Ahmed’s “feminist killjoy” (Ahmed, 2017). Analysing and unpacking humour can allow us to glean interesting insights into the subjectivities of students - how humour can be used by students both to build rapport with each other, and Other-ise those who do not share their sense of humour or willingness to engage in banter.

Theorists in the fields of gender studies, as well as educational studies, have studied humour as an important medium through which social and cultural norms get transferred. When it comes to the school environment humour often contains “targeted, serious expressions of deeply held beliefs and understandings about masculinity, femininity, and gender roles in the broader social world” (Barnes, 2012, p. 250). Masculinity scholars have looked at how humour is one of the vital mechanisms through which boys are able to perform their hetero-masculine identities (Nayak and

(15)

Kehily, 1997). Similarly to how the word “gay” is used by boys as a regulatory device, humour deployed as a way of policing the acceptable behaviour of boys, such that those who transgress from accepted norms become the target of ridicule. It therefore constitutes part of the “fag discourse” (Pascoe, 2007) that restricts the actions of teenage boys.

Nayak and Kehily (1997) demonstrate how boys use humour as a means of expressing their own identities as straight men as well as positioning themselves in opposition to gay people. They call this a “doubly defining” (p. 82) moment of consolidation and repudiation. The boys observed in their ethnography engaged in “cussing matches” with each other, and told exaggerated stories involving hyper-masculinity. Boys are also able to use their bodies to humorous effect - Dalley-Trim reminds us of the myriad ways students can enact masculinity with the body: “shouting and being loud, call out and interruptive behaviours, laughing, joking, misbehaving, acting tough, acting cool, play fighting, and refusing to affirm the teacher’s authority” are all strategies which serve to display “male bravado” (2007, p. 203). In an ethnography of an Irish classroom, Barnes notes the tendency of boys to start engaging in banter with each other whenever someone strays beyond what is deemed to be an acceptable level of class participation - as such, humour can reduce the scope of what is discussed in the classroom. This is particularly apparent, she notes, when boys are made to discuss issues which are “threatening or challenging” (Barnes, 2012, p. 243). This research will examine how boys use humour - both physical and verbal - to consolidate their own identities, Other-ise those who deviate from acceptable masculinity, and regulate classroom dynamics.

However, humour can also be used to positive effect within the classroom, especially when students are forced to discuss uncomfortable issues such as sex and sexuality. Allen (2014) notes that humour and learning are often positioned in opposition to each other in schools, such that students who are visibly enjoying themselves in class are by definition not learning effectively. This is in spite of the “pedagogical possibilities” (p. 390) humour affords. One such possibility is the creation of a rapport between teachers and students that puts students at ease, and makes them more likely to remember information as well as bring up topics they might otherwise not have (Strong, 2013; Allen, 2014). Additionally, boys are able to use humour as a means of expression, and in some instances it allows them to say things that might otherwise have been taboo. Strong writes that “There are some subjects a student will bring up with humour that they might never mention in a straightforward way” (2013, p. 32). One such subject is sex - Huuki, Manninen and Sunnari argue that boys use humour to talk about sex, “an issue usually regarded as embarrassing or intimate in some other contexts” (2010, p. 376). Humour represents a different, yet still valid, method of communication. Given that boys and men are trained not to reveal emotion or disclose embarrassing information about themselves (Anderson and McCormack, 2016), humour can give them a means of speaking about things they would not be able to in a somber fashion.

(16)

In spite of the positive effects that humour can have in the classroom, there is the potential that banter, both amongst boys and between students and teachers, limits the potential for other groups to participate fully. Dalley-Trim (2007) reminds us that when boys use humour, it can “monopolise the linguistic space” of the classroom, to the detriment of girls and non-hegemonic boys (p. 209). Given that the ability to participate in banter is premised upon the knowledge of shared practices and group dynamics (Huuki, Manninen and Sunnari, 2010), humour can marginalise even when it being used in a seemingly productive manner.

Taking all these things into consideration, this research will also seek to uncover how humour is used by ShoutOut volunteers to stimulate debate, as well as how boys use it as a means of self-expression. I will also observe whether boys’ humour impedes the participation of some groups, even as it allows others to participate.

(17)

Chapter Two - Methodology

i. Sampling // Access // ShoutOut // School Profiles

The population I chose to study for this research is male secondary school students. As such, the issue of how to gain access to research participants is one that had a significant bearing on the overall direction of the study. Initially, I had hoped to conduct interviews with teenagers to understand their conceptions of masculinity and sexuality, however this proved to be unfeasible given time constraints and the legal and ethical issues around interacting with people below the age of eighteen. Ultimately, this research was conducted with the Irish charity ShoutOut, who deliver workshops on issues of sexuality to children in Irish secondary schools (more information on the structure of these workshops later). During my time as an undergraduate in Trinity College Dublin I had volunteered with ShoutOut, and knew that workshops generally lead to fruitful discussions with students. In December 2017 I contacted Bella Fitzpatrick, the director of ShoutOut, and asked her whether I could sit in on workshops over a three-week period in April 2018. She agreed with this, and during this time I attended almost twenty hours of workshops in five different secondary schools across Ireland. I also conducted an expert interview with Bella to get a more broad perspective of my topic. Finally, I attended a workshop given by Bella to a group of five teachers who wished to know how to make their school a more supportive place for queer students, however my study ended up going in a different direction, and this material was not used.

Workshops are normally given by two volunteers, who can be queer or straight - generally they try to have at least one non-straight person facilitating each workshop, although this is not always possible due to the availability of volunteers. Workshops to students have the aim of facilitating discussion as opposed to being prescriptive, although there are some instances in which volunteers will simply relay information that students do not know about.

The workshops are an hour long and structured as follows. The sections 2-4 provided the most interesting material for the purposes of this study, and will therefore be outlined in more depth:

1. Introductions (five minutes): The two volunteers will give a brief speech about themselves and their sexual or gender identities.

2. Definitions (five minutes): Volunteers will list words that are commonly used when discussing queer identities. Students will be asked if they have heard a certain word and what they think it means, and volunteers will guide them towards the correct definition. This is the most

(18)

prescriptive section of the hour. Words usually discussed are: lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual, ally, cisgender, hetero-/homo-sexual, pansexual.

3. Walking Debate (twenty minutes): Students stand up in the middle of the room and are given a series of statements. If they agree with the statement they walk to one side of the room, and if they disagree they walk to the other. Students are welcome to stay in the middle if they are unsure. Students from both sides of the room are then asked to explain why they took a particular position. Examples of the most frequent discussion statements are:

Saying something is ‘gay’ is OK as long as it is not intended in a mean way or directed towards someone who is homosexual. It’s just an expression.

You can normally tell by looking at someone if they are gay.

I think my school is a good place to come out.

For the purposes of my research, I asked facilitators to include a statement about masculinity in order to provoke debate. This varied in phrasing as the research went on but was generally something like:

I think being gay makes someone less of a man.

4. What To Do When… (fifteen minutes): For this task, students are split into smaller groups of about five each. Each group is then given a scenario and asked what they think would be an appropriate or inappropriate way of behaving in the situation. After discussing this in their groups for around five minutes, students then come back into one large group, and each team takes turns telling the whole class what their scenario was and how they think someone should or should not deal with it. Examples of scenarios are:

You are on a school trip and sharing a room with one of your best friends. While chatting one night they tell you that they think they might be gay.

You are in a close group of friends, and one of the friends keeps referring to gay people as ‘gross’ and using words like ‘fag’. There is no one in your group who is out as LGBT.

5. Ally in the School (ten minutes): Volunteers ask the students how they think they could make their school a better place for people who are queer.

(19)

6. Q&A (five minutes): Volunteers ask the students if they have any questions relating to anything they have heard in the workshop.

The five schools in which I collected data were not “chosen” by me in any meaningful sense, they were schools in which ShoutOut had already agreed to give workshops during the time I was going to be in Ireland. As such they do not represent any kind of meaningful cross-section of the Irish education system (for an example of qualitative research in Irish schools that does aim for this, see O’Higgins-Norman (2009)). At the same time, the schools were varied both in their locations within Ireland, and the variance in composition of the student body.

• school1 is a mid-sized co-educational public secondary school in the midlands, on the outskirts of a town with a population of 10,000. The student body comprises about 800, and the school is not run with an explicitly religious ethos. At school1 I observed three hours of workshops given to second years (aged 13/14) and one workshop given to fourth years (aged 15/16)

• school2 is a smaller, rural school in the southwest, with a student body of approximately 500. This school was also co-educational and although located in the countryside is not run with a religious ethos. At this school I observed three hours of workshops given to fourth year students. • school3 is a recently built community school with a co-ed student body of around 600, in a

midlands town with a population of 30,000. What was striking about this school was the young ages of the staff members, the majority of whom were under thirty. This school was also not explicitly religious. Here I observed four hours of workshops given to second year students. • school4 was located in a town of 15,000 people, itself within the Dublin commuter belt. The

school was co-ed and had about 750 students. It was also not religious. Here I observed one workshop of fourth year students. This was the largest group I observed, with approximately 35 students present.

• school5 is an all-boys Christian Brothers school, located in a town of around 20,000 people in the south of Ireland. The student body was around 400 boys. At school5 I observed one workshop of fourth year students and four hours of workshops with fifth years (aged 15/16).

I would like to note that although the schools were a reasonable mix of urban and rural, and included one with a religious ethos, I did not find any of these factors had an influence on students’ attitudes. Authors have noted how structures such as homophobia materialise differently between groups of people who have varied racial or class backgrounds. Pascoe (2007) outlines in Dude, You’re A Fag how black students at River High have an understanding of sexuality that is markedly different from their white counterparts. In their ethnography of a working-class English secondary school, Blanchard, McCormack and Peterson (2017) argue that while explicit homophobia is declining among English students of all classes, this process manifests differently between

(20)

working-class and middle-class students. Unfortunately, the schools in which I conducted my fieldwork did not provide me with enough data to tackle meaningfully the question of race - in part due to the persistent whiteness of Irish society, I encountered less than five students in total who were non-white. Differences in class were also tough for me to identify - my impression of the schools, combined with my examination of their websites and the towns in which they are situated, led me to classify schools 1, 2 and 3 as lower-middle class and schools 4 and 5 as middle-class. However, as noted above, similarities among schools of supposedly different classes were far more prominent than differences between them. Additionally, as will be discussed later, school 4 was the most challenging school I visited in terms of homophobic attitudes, while school 5 was the most “liberal”. Because of these things, I can not make any claims to have uncovered meaningful class differences in the manifestation of sexuality. If I were to conduct research like this in the future, I would make a concerted effort to enter fee-paying, upper-middle class schools primarily located in Dublin.

ii. Data Collection

The method guiding my observations is abductive reasoning, outlined by Timmermans and Tavory (2012). They argue that “grounded theory” has become an overused term in qualitative research and obscures how researchers are always influenced by previously encountered theories before they enter into the field. Geertz reminds us that “Theoretical ideas are not created wholly anew in each study… they are adopted from other, related studies, and, refined in the process, applied to new interpretive problems” (1973, p. 27). Before going into the field I had read extensively about the different mechanisms boys use to project their masculine identities in school - thus, to claim that previous research did not guide my observations would be misleading. Nonetheless, in the classroom I tried to “de-familiarise” myself from what I was seeing so that much of what I witnessed would be fresh and interesting to me.

For the majority of the workshops I sat in the corner of the classroom and remained mostly silent, although I did interject with questions when students were speaking of things which interested me. In two instances I had to deliver the workshop with another volunteer as no one else had signed up, however in these cases I stayed as silent as possible and allowed the other volunteer to take the lead. In order not to stifle the discussion I did not take any notes with a pen and paper, instead using immediate recall (Spradley, 1970) and writing down my observations directly after the workshop ended, usually with the help of the volunteers who had given the workshop. I did however make notes on my phone (Blanchard, McCormack and Peterson, 2017) of interesting quotes I heard from students. I do not believe this form of note-taking impinged upon the classroom discussion (although perhaps students thought I was rude). As such, my observations

(21)

were generally non-participatory, although as Blommaert and Jie (2010) remind us, true invisibility in qualitative research is neither possible nor necessarily desirable (issues of positionality will be address in more detail later). As my observations progressed, less and less material I witnessed during workshops became striking to me, and I was able to hone in on certain recurring themes (Blommaert and Jie, 2010). I had been sceptical about the possibly of reaching the point of saturation (Small, 2009) given the limited scope of this work, however by the end of my fieldwork I was recording students saying almost verbatim what had already been expressed by boys in other schools.

Taber reminds us that “The importance of our everyday experiences cannot be ignored, and are a rich source of data when approached with an integration of theory and reflexivity” (2005, p. 290). Following this, in addition to recording interesting episodes and quotes from students, I also included personal reflections and, in several instances, homophobic abuse that I suffered within schools while collecting data. As such, the “ethnographic moment” of this work extends beyond just the hour I spent in the classroom with students and ShoutOut volunteers. A more overall commentary on how my own experiences have affected this study will follow in the section on positionality.

After I had completed my observations, I conducted an interview with Bella Fitzpatrick, the director of ShoutOut. This interview was semi-structured and lasted one hour, and was based around themes and ideas I had found interesting during my time in schools. The purpose of this interview was to triangulate some of my experiences and see if they matched up with anything she had noticed during her five years of being involved with the charity.

iii. Data Analysis

My approach to analysing the data I collected was two-pronged. The first was code-based - I went though all my notes by hand and labelled quotes and episodes according to a schedule (Hennink, Hutter and Bailey, 2011). This schedule, as noted above, was informed by my background reading, and as such I was on the lookout for specific codes, most notably masculinity, sexuality, identity, bullying, “gay”, “fag”. I was also open to including new codes based on what I found, and as I went through my data I introduced two new codes: my school and humour. Although I tried to be a “blank canvass” during observations and record as much data as possible, the fact that I chose not to record workshops meant that what I could observe was necessarily limited. Thus, my field notes themselves constitute a form of coding prima facie, as I had to make on-the-spot decisions about what I deemed interesting enough to note down.

(22)

My second approach was more holistic, and concerned individual moments or episodes that stuck out to me as being especially interesting. This strategy resembled the search for “rich points” (Agar, 1995 [Hennink, Hutter and Bailey, 2011]), in which the researcher encounters something they cannot immediately understand or which seems striking. The effort to contextualise and understand these moments sheds new light on what the researcher is investigating. I identified four of these moments, and wrote a brief summary of what had happened, as well as my reaction to the event.

When collating the data, I initially thought about structuring my results around three of these moments, and weaving in elements of observation around them. Ultimately however, what I was left with was too centred on my own experiences at the expense of the subjectivities of students. I ended up going for the opposite approach, and sought to include personal thoughts within the results framework, if I thought they added to material I had uncovered from the students themselves. I ended up combining my codes for masculinity and sexuality, and discarding others that did not yield especially interesting results. In the end, my three themes for discussion are masculinity and sexuality, “gay” and other homosexually-themed language, and humour.

My results chapters will address each of these codes in turn. In terms of how they relate to my research questions, chapter three will address question one (How do boys cultivate and perform a masculine, heterosexual identity in the school environment?). Chapters four and five will each address question two (How do boys use humour and homosexually-themed language as part of this enactment?), while the third question (How does this enactment produce homophobia?) will be interwoven in analysis in both chapters four and five.

iv. Ethics

The fact that participants in this research are under eighteen means that ethical issues are a key concern. I identified three ethical dilemmas to be addressed. Firstly, data were anonymised and confidential to protect the identity of the students, who in some instances disclosed personal information relating to their sexual identities. I anonymised the names of participants, as well as the names of the schools in which I conducted observations. Although complete confidentiality is never possible (for example in the case of a child admitting to committing a serious crime), it is possible to guarantee it in almost every circumstance. In his discussion of issues he faced as a qualitative researcher, Weiss (2004) writes that he has never had to compromise the identity of his interviewees. I did not encounter any situation in which I felt the need to reveal information about specific students.

(23)

The second concerns the principle of doing no harm (Hennink, Hutter and Bailey 2011). Students who participate in ShoutOut workshops are always given information by volunteers about support services available for LGBT youth in Ireland. As such, they have somewhere to turn if information discussed during the workshop made them uncomfortable. In the end, I found that students, particularly those who might have been coming to terms with their sexuality identities or who were already “out” to their class, actually enjoyed participating in the workshops. It is likely that ShoutOut provided them with a space to discuss things which would have been difficult otherwise (Weiss, 2004).

The final point concerns the fact that the students researched in this piece are often trying to navigate their identities as men in a patriarchal world which seeks to limit and constrict their self-expression. Recognising that the relationship between researcher and subjects is never one-way or free from relations of power (Haraway, 1988), I situate this work within a broader effort by masculinity scholars to reveal and therefore challenge the structures which regulate the lived experiences of boys and men. Critical social research should have the goal of giving something back to the group being researched (Hennink, Hutter and Bailey, 2011), and I hope this project contributes, if only slightly, to a widening of possibilities and a world more free of judgment.

v. Positionality // Reflections

I believe it is important to be transparent about my own position within this research, and how my beliefs and experiences are likely to have affected the course of this study. Haraway (1988) reminds us that work in which the researcher makes himself invisible represents an act of deception. This “god trick” (p. 581) obscures relations between the object and subject of research, and is in itself a supreme act of power. I aim instead for an “embodied objectivity” (p. 582) in which I locate myself in my work and acknowledge that only “partial perspective” (p. 582) is feasible.

My own experiences of masculinity and homophobia have shaped every step of this project, from its conception right through to writing it up. Taking my own life history as a starting point (Taber, 2005), this study began as a smaller paper, in which I used the framework of analytic autoethnography (Anderson, 2006) to contextualise episodes from my past. My problem definition for this thesis was in some sense a continuation of this paper - I initially wanted to understand whether boys still navigate masculinity and sexuality in the same way that I do. Although this study does not contain any explicit autoethnography, it is nonetheless informed by my own subjectivity.

During the research process, my own self-presentation as a gay man is likely to have affected my observations. Pascoe (2007) is transparent about how her position as a woman studying teenage

(24)

boys influenced their behaviour towards her, and I believe my presence in classrooms could have made students less willing to express homophobic attitudes. At the same time, my involvement led to interesting situations - a common question asked of students during ShoutOut workshops is how they think gay people dress. On more than one occasion, a male student described exactly what I was wearing - what a coincidence! Although I tried to be a “fly on the wall”, this was not entirely feasible, and I have tried as much as possible to make my presence apparent in the results chapters. Further, given how much of this work has to do with hetero-masculinity being defined in opposition to other identities, in several instances I found myself to be the abject (Butler, 1993) against which boys consolidated their identities.

On a more serious note, what proved to be difficult was trying to be objective and impartial while witnessing behaviour I deemed to be problematic. In her ethnography of Australian football fans, Palmer (2010) recounts her frustrations at witnessing sexist behaviour and feeling unable to call it out. In doing this research, I frequently had to bite my tongue, smile, and say “oh, why do you think that?” when boys expressed opinions that would have upset sixteen year-old me. As someone who is gay, my heart is always going to be with boys who are subordinated and marginalised, and I frequently had to remind myself that students who embody hegemonic masculinity are nonetheless also victims of social mores which constrain us all.

I’m sure that some students I observed were frustrated by hearing their peers justify statements which injured them, and to have adult volunteers, who were frequently gay themselves, listen and engage with them. I often found that my desire to “do good research” and “understand subjectivities” was in opposition to my desire to call out homophobia and sexism, and to defend queer teenagers in an unambiguous way. Opting for the former approach, I can only hope that this thesis contributes in some way to a better and more accepting world for boys of all sexualities.

(25)

Chapter Three - Masculinity and Sexuality

Overall, the students I observed espoused a complicated relationship between masculinity and sexuality. In general, students expressed that there was no necessary relationship between the two. While they understood that certain traits were coded as “gay” by society, they did not draw an absolute link between these traits and sexual object-choice, noting the contingency of self-expression on a number of factors other than sexuality. However, they were quick to point out certain factors - usually un-masculine traits - they thought were indicative of a man being gay, even if this wasn’t true in every instance.

Students also verbally distanced themselves from homophobic beliefs and sought to position themselves as being “gay-friendly”. However, in several instances male students were openly disparaging of these very traits which they believed to be un-masculine and to some degree linked with homosexuality. A common refrain from boys, discussed in detail later in this chapter, is that they don’t mind someone being gay as long as it wasn’t “in my face”. As I will discuss later, it is my belief that the perceived “in your face”-ness of homosexuality can be split into two aspects: public displays of affection, such as two men kissing or holding hands; and mannerisms that are coded by boys as “camp” or “feminine”, such as having a high pitched voice or dressing a certain way. Only in one instance did students say they would have a problem with public displays of affection between boys. However, several students commented negatively on other boys displaying “camp” mannerisms, and indicated that they believed them to be linked with homosexuality. Therefore, it is likely that they are able to mask homophobic attitudes in a distaste of the feminine.

i. Homosexuality as discrete, and unrelated to gender performance

Students’ attitudes towards masculinity and sexuality are underscored by an assumption of heterosexuality. When the topic of “coming out” came up, I asked students if they had ever had to “come out” as straight to anyone, or if they thought other people speculated about their sexuality. Not a single student said anything to indicate that they operated under the assumption of “straight until proven otherwise”. My field notes from school1 demonstrate this:

Students overwhelmingly saw straightness as the default position - one group was asked explicitly if they ever thought people discussed their sexuality, or if they ever had to tell somebody that they are straight. No one thought this was a salient issue, and it was clear it is not something students ever had to do or think about.

(26)

In this same group, I asked students if they thought it was fair that the onus to come out was placed upon non-straight people. One boy responded “Ah it just makes sense because most people are straight. I’m sure if most people in Ireland were gay lads then straight guys would have to come out too”. Heterosexuality was seen as the default, and boys were not keen to interrogate this.

Additionally, no students I observed at any stage made overtly homophobic comments. Other than a couple of boys who agreed they would find it “a bit weird” if they saw two men holding hands in their town, students were adamant that they did not care if somebody in their school, or one of their friends, came out as gay.

Students in general said they thought sexuality only necessarily pertained to sexual object-choice, and did not have to have an impact on masculine performance. They were quick to show that they knew what characteristics were deemed “gay” by others, even as they troubled this relationship. In several cases students said almost the same thing:

You can be really camp and seem really gay but still be into girls, or you could be really big and sporty but you like boys.

(Boy, 2nd Year, school1)

Lads can be big and strong and never cry or whatever but still want to be with boys, and the other way around.

(Boys, 2nd Year, school3)

I just don’t think you can tell [if someone is gay] - some gay guys yeah you can probably guess, like you two, but others you just wouldn’t know from talking to them. And there’s lads who seem a bit queer but then you find out they have a girlfriend. (Boy, 5th Year, school5)

The boys quoted above all understand that certain things - being “big and strong”, “sporty” - are linked with heterosexuality, while others - being “a bit queer” - are linked with homosexuality. In each case they disentangled these associations, believing you can “still want to be with boys” if you display traditionally heterosexual traits, or vice versa. This indicates knowledge of the narrative that sexuality is a discrete aspect of one’s identity.

One student in school5, who appeared to be close friends with an out gay student in the class, explicitly used the word “masculine” when undermining this association:

(27)

There’s gay fellas I know who are way more ‘masculine’ than I am but that doesn’t make them less gay or make me more straight.

(Boy, 5th Year, school5)

Implicit in this statement is the idea of sexuality as a continuum - he speaks of being “less gay” or “more straight”. However, he seems to believe that a boy’s position on this scale is entirely unrelated to how well or badly they embody masculinity - similar to the three boys quoted above, sexuality materialises here as nothing else other than the gender of a romantic or sexual partner.

In one case, two students from school1 questioned why certain traits were deemed to be masculine in the first place. In response to a prompt about what “being a man” entails, two boys had this to say:

Student1: What it means to be a man isn’t the same for everyone, so it’s a weird question.

Student2: Men aren’t supposed to cry or show their feelings, but they still have emotions.

Student1: I think crying is actually strong. (Boys, 2nd Year, school1)

These boys go a step further than disentangling the link between “manly” traits and heterosexuality, focusing instead on why these things are coded as manly to begin with. Student1’s point that manliness “isn’t the same for everybody” implies a lack of determinism to men’s behaviour, and his subsequent comment that he thinks crying is “actually strong” flips the notion of what is culturally acceptable behaviour for this group.

ii. Homosexuality as all-encompassing

In some cases, students demonstrated that they knew what characteristics were coded as gay, but were less reflexive about the implications of this, and expressed these attitudes in a way that bordered on disdain. Even if they conceded that not every gay man acted in the same way, their comments implied that a large number of them did. The following two instances are indicative of this viewpoint:

Sometimes you have gay guys and they just aren’t very manly. They act like girls and are less manly and dress in a girly way.

(28)

(Boy, 2nd Year, school3)

You see gay guys and they move their hands all over the place and have really high pitched voices. They don’t wear like Adidas tracksuits like we would, they have like turned up jeans or cheetah print shoes.

(Boy, 5th Year, school5)

The student in the first case puts it plainly that gay men often “act like girls”. This is explained in more detail by the second student, who elucidates stereotypical notions of how gay man behave, related to their actions (“move their hands all over the place”), voice (“really high pitched”) and fashion choices (“turned up jeans and cheetah print shoes”). Students obviously have an understanding of the camp aesthetic, and apparently believe that many gay men conform to this. In several cases, students who at various points said they had “no problem” with someone being gay, were disdainful of the way certain students (although not explicitly ones who were gay) acted. In school4, there was a heated debate between the female volunteer and a group of boys that resulted when she asked the group if they would ever “slag” (make fun of) a boy for being gay. Two students became defensive:

Student1: You get slagged if you’re a weirdo. Being gay has nothing to do with it - you get slagged if you’re weird and that’s it. But now if you say anything to someone who’s gay they say ‘oh, you’re slagging me because I’m gay’ - no, I’m slagging you because you’re weird. I don’t care if people are gay as long as they’re not in my face about it.

Student2: When someone comes out as gay, that’s suddenly everything about them. They’re gay and now suddenly they can’t just be their normal selves, it completely takes them over.

(Boys, 4th Year, school4)

The first student, on the one hand, says that he does not have an issue with gay people (“I don’t care if people are gay”). At the same time, he says that people get made fun of for being “weird”. His final words, that gay people can sometimes be “in your face” about their sexuality, implies a link between this weirdness and homosexuality that he at the same time denies. The second student is more open about his disdain, saying that when people come out, their sexuality “completely takes them over” - however, he also said earlier in the workshop that he didn’t care about someone being gay. Both students theoretically espouse pro-gay attitudes, but their worries over gay students getting “taken over” by their sexuality and parading it in their faces implies both that they believe in a link between homosexuality and un-masculine behaviour, and that they disapprove of this

(29)

behaviour. This contradiction is made explicit by another student in the class, an out lesbian who believes there is no meaningful difference between “weirdness” and sexuality:

People make fun of me apparently because I’m ‘weird’ but the reasons they think I’m weird aren’t separate to me being gay.

(Girl, 4th Year, school4)

Although this student was female, it is safe to assume that the comments of the two boys also pertain to their male peers, as their response was given to a question about a male student coming out. This girl is clearly aware of homosexuality being considered at once not a problem, but at the same time, something unusual.

In an episode from school5, my field notes relay a similar occurrence:

I left the classroom during one workshop to go to the bathroom, and on the way passed two boys who had just participated in a workshop and were discussing it. Before they realised I could hear them, one student said to the other, “I don’t mind gay fellas but sometimes they can be a bit much”.

(April 24th, 2018)

Again, this student expresses that he is not homophobic, but at the same time says that he is uncomfortable with gay men being “too much” - (presumably, too “camp” or over-the-top).

Students are ambiguous and contradictory about the relationship between masculinity and sexuality. On the one hand, several students indicate that they believe sexuality and gender performance to be mostly unrelated, and that it is possible to be gay without being less masculine, or enacting a different gender performance. Other students disclose that homosexuality is more than just sexual object-choice - believing it to affect a man’s being such that being gay in some sense causes one to become less masculine and enact camp mannerisms. The tension between regarding sexuality as merely sexual preference or believing it affects more than that is summed up in the following episode from school5. In response to a question about whether he thought the school was a good place to come out, one student said:

Student: It’s a boys school, there’s always going to be slagging, people are always going to have a problem with gay guys. If you know someone for four years and then suddenly they’re gay, they’re a different person and they’re going to be treated

Learning to be straight : masculinity, heterosexuality, and homophobia in Irish secundary schools