Too Feminine for the Barbershop

If you have known me for a while now or have been reading my blog since its conception, you'd know I am gay. In the pictures I have shared on this blog and my social media platforms, you can find me wearing clothes that are considered "feminine" or "for girls." These stereotypes of what it means to be gay, feminine, or what is considered "only for males," or "only for females" create boxes people are expected to conform to, known as gender roles. These "roles" are expectations of people based on their physical traits/parts. 

This picture perfectly captures the roles of men and women in our world and societal expectations. One prominent association to gender is blue and pink, where blue is for boys, and pink is for girls. In the children's department at stores worldwide, this is made evident in clothes made for kids. Moreover, in the same department are the gender stereotype toys provided for them. Boys have trucks and figurines that depict strong macho men. In contrast, the girl’s section has dolls, flowers, or things that are seen as effeminate. These stereotypes imprint an understanding to young kids that they have to fit in these boxes and boundaries to "fit in." There are even jobs that are deemed to be stereotypically just for men and women. It is normal to see male Doctors, Engineers, Pilots, and presidents, because they are authoritative, firm, and can handle STEM. In comparison, it is customary to see women as hairstylists, secretaries, teachers, and homemakers because they are caring and nurturing individuals who are second to men. 

When I was working at McDonald's in a Walmart, a mother walked in with her two kids: one male and one female. The two kids ordered Happy Meals, and they could get a toy of their choice, the male asked for a doll (which was the toy "for girls" at that time), and the little girl said, "that's for girls, you should get a boys one." I was sad to know that gender roles and stereotypes are so apparent that even a kid I presumed to be about five years old could sense that. However, the woman responded, "he can get any toy he wants; it's his choice like you have a choice." Her response made me smile and made me believe that we could break down stereotypes and that one day it won't matter what kids play with, what color they wear, and what job they aspire for themselves.

A stereotype that greatly affected me is where people go for hair care. I went to salons for haircuts all of my life in Hawai`i and received great care from the hairstylists. Many of my male friends went to barbershops. The thought of me entering a space that I always thought of as "for straight men only" or "masculine men only" occurred frequently, but realizing it will never happen. That was me stereotyping a place and the people who go there and get a haircut, but can you blame me? The media portrays barbershops as this toxic masculine place where straight men talk about guy things. I am not familiar with guy things; to be honest, I did not live in a man's world. My home was predominantly female, and my single mother would not take me into the barbershop. 

I have always seen barbershops as a place for men. I, because of my femininity, gender expression, and identity, felt I did not belong. It is not feeling like "one of the boys" or fitting the ticket for what it means to be a boy or a guy simply because I am not straight. I grew up in a home where we watched Filipino dramas, and my extra-curricular activities were at school. I was not in any sport, except cheer, but cheer is predominantly a female sport, so I, even more, felt I would not be able to fit in. I always thought, "what would I talk to my barber about?" "What do I even say when he cuts my hair?" "What is the proper terminology for when I want my sides to be short but keeping my top long?" When I went to the salon, I had a picture to show them or pointed at an image of a guy in the magazine, expecting to look EXACTLY like the picture. However, after each cut, I was left unsatisfied. It wasn't how I wanted it to be; I did not feel good nor happy after each cut. I was grateful, but I was just not satisfied with how it turned out.

Then finally, in college, a first-year student was a full-time licensed barber. He was working at the then-

new barbershop just about 5 miles from campus and recommended that I go there for my haircuts. I was hesitant, again, because I always felt it was a man's world-- a place I did not belong. But my best friend and I decided to give it a shot. Maybe, just maybe, by having a straight man I was close to going with me to the barbershop, I would feel more comfortable, assimilate, and feel like I belong. I was grateful he came with me; otherwise, I would've been awkward. Yes, trust me, I am uncomfortable in spaces I felt I did not belong in. But luckily, my barber was the owner, Edgar. He made me feel so at home and so relaxed. I told him upfront that I had never been to a barbershop, and he asked me a few questions to make sure. While cutting my hair, he asked me questions about myself, my major, where I am from, and also shared about himself. After he was finished, I felt so good. It was the best after-haircut feeling ever, something I have never really felt before. I guess it was because this man knew what he was doing (not to say those in the salon didn't). But as a man, he knew what would look good for me and delivered. Happy to say that he has been taking care of me since. 

Whenever I went home, I could not think of a barbershop that would give me that feel-good feeling at the barbershop in Washington. I was open to returning to the salon, but it no longer felt right. One day, I learned that one of the people I knew from leadership camps in high school became a licensed barber and worked in a barbershop. Of course, I went to look at his work and was pleased by what I saw, and I scheduled a haircut with Koa. Of course, during my appointment, he and I got to catch up with each other, talk stories about the new things in our lives and where we see ourselves going in the future. He knew exactly what he was doing. I guess because he was a friend, I felt comfortable entering the barbershop he works at. Yes, you guessed it, after he cut my hair, I felt the same sense of happiness and content with the results, and it was a great feeling.

In my conversations with both barbers, I was open about not being comfortable entering the barbershop because it is a man's world. I told them how I have always viewed it as a place for men-- straight men only. But both were gracious enough to reassure me that I, a gay feminine male, was welcomed at their establishment. They said they would not discriminate because their job is to help people feel and look good-- something they did not fail to deliver; I am always satisfied. However, what I have come to understand about these interactions was that I was promoting stereotypes. I accepted these stereotypes and norms instead of seeking to break them. I judged every barber and barbershop based on something out of their control: how the media portrayed them. Thus, I felt they would discriminate against me, a gay male. I believed that these men working to survive and help men feel good were homophobic and against people like me. It was wrong for me to do that, but I am glad that that has changed. I am happy with both of these barbers as they helped change and shape my understanding of barbers and barbershops. Barbershops are where men can gather and form a community with one another based on their day, life, and experiences. I am glad to know that there are spaces in barbershops where members of the LGBTQ+ community are welcome. Though I know there will be times where men will hate and discriminate against LGBTQ+ folks, it is comforting to know that not all are, giving me hope. To my barbers: Edgar and Koa, as well as their peers who help make each experience a positive one, thank you. I always look forward to the day I get to sit on your chair again. 

How about you? What places do you struggle to enter because you don't seem like you belong in them? What stereotypes surround this place for you? What will get you to enter this place?

Until Next Time,

M.