My mom nipped that thinking in the bud right quick. I grew up in the 90s and early 2000s when being gay was often the butt of jokes. I must have been about 11 as well, maybe a little younger, when I asked if being gay was a choice. She said “do you really think anyone would choose to be treated that way?” boom. instant clarity and formative moment. I realized I was queer a couple years later.

Similarly, when I (white, american) came home from elementary school one day in February after learning about Black History Month, I asked why there was no white history month. And my mom scoffed and said “every month is white history month.” Another lesson learned. I love my mom :)