How ’90s cartoons teach us to warm up to the unusual, unfamiliar, and unknown

It takes a little more critical thinking than what Homer puts into his initial attitude to conclude that being merely unusual, unknown, or unfamiliar can put an unearned target on one’s back (Image by GDJ via Pixabay)

John: Homer, what have you got against gays?

Homer: You know…it’s not…usual.

The ellipses are as empty as they can get.

As such, and if you’ll excuse an inevitable pun here, the line makes for straight-talking satire in this peak-era episode of The Simpsons.

Throughout the second act of “Homer’s Phobia” (premiered February 16, 1997), Homer has no substance to justify his fear and loathing of new family friend John.

Unlike many who share his sentiment, he has not thought things through enough to reach for an excuse. Perhaps he hasn’t heard enough of the go-to rationales to remember to deploy them himself.

And so, he is incidentally honest and sticks to the root of all prejudice — a lack of understanding.

It takes a little more critical thinking than what Homer puts into his initial attitude to conclude that being merely unusual, unknown, or unfamiliar can put an unearned target on one’s back or have an innocuous propensity or custom unduly vilified.

People subject to such treatment include racial minorities, religious minorities, LGBTQIA community members, the physically disabled, the neurodivergent, and the overweight or underweight.

Even cishet individuals whose innate mannerisms, physique, interests, or vocation deviate “gender norms” or evoke stereotypical “queer” traits are subject to bigoted onslaughts. Ditto anyone who inherently and unwittingly goes against their own culture’s customs with their abilities and endeavors.

And no matter what explanatory layers are piled on top of it, the only fundamental rationale for those attacks is that the target’s traits come across as not normal.

In the eyes of those lashing out, unusual automatically equals “bad” or “wrong.” By attacking it, the reactionaries express their fear through fury whilst pronouncing their target socially unacceptable.

“Homer’s Phobia” cuts to this point when Homer sees Bart donning a wig and dancing in the living room, sporting a Hawaiian shirt, and channeling John’s “Zap!” routine with a toy ray gun. As erratic as The Simpsons’ arc has become, there is ample evidence that Bart is a heterosexual boy (Season 4’s “New Kid on the Block” and Season 6’s “Bart’s Girlfriend” come mind).

That precedent doesn’t stop Homer — who also accusingly asks Marge if she caught John’s orientation — from believing he needs to “set (Bart) straight.” He takes that task upon himself by dragging his son into such “traditionally masculine” activities as deer hunting.

As it happens, this would not be the first ’90s cartoon depicting a father’s directive to an offspring to “man up” by taking down a Cervidae. Rocko’s Modern Life had “An Elk For Heffer” (debuted February 11, 1996), wherein the steer’s adoptive lupine family explains their ritualistic prerequisite to verifying one’s graduation from boyhood.

“You have to bring an elk home for dinner,” Mr. Wolfe plainly states. Heffer takes this to mean making the elk a plus one, not an entrée, and the misunderstanding leads to the patriarch’s predictable frustration.

Spoiler alert: Heffer stands his ground, and his dad goes on to admit he demonstrated maturity in another way by resisting pressure and adhering to his own principles. Granted, Mr. Wolfe appends a begrudging disclaimer that he is merely paraphrasing Heffer’s adoptive mother on that, but he agrees to tell a white lie to the extended pack as they certify the steer’s manhood.

Heffer’s rite of passage is not the usual one, not one that follows every socially constructed technicality to the letter, but it works just as well in the end. The covert compromise he reaches with his parents dispels their fear of letting others down and no harm is done to or even felt by any party.

Their initial shock at Heffer’s refusal, though, signals what their apprehension stems from. They are caught off guard by a novel idea, an as-yet unknown approach to their way of life.

One of the best assessments of that attitude more broadly — namely a kneejerk fear of the unfamiliar — comes from the live-action wraparound segments in a special Magic School Bus VHS (released 1995). In short, when encouraging a boy — Howie — to become one with a tarantula, an educator (eventually revealed to be Ms. Frizzle in disguise) starts his statement as follows, and in a soft-spoken, earnestly wistful tone to boot:

“You know, it’s unfortunate, my lad, that people are afraid of what they don’t know.”

From there, he makes a simple, fast-working example of the spider, explaining how its appearance and reputation belie its nature and that it shares the boy’s lack of desire for trouble with one another. Howie follows the wise man’s gentle encouragement and openly concludes in awe, “Once you get to know a tarantula, it’s not that scary anymore.”

In his own Homer-y way, the Simpsons’ patriarch reaches the same realization as it relates to gay people in the third act of “Homer’s Phobia.” He is still mistaken about his son’s orientation and does not commit to tolerating the gay community as a whole. But he starts on his way to enlightenment after John thwarts a (perfectly provoked) deer attack, restoring the goodwill from the first act before Marge had dropped the plot-setting revelation.

Homer, Heffer’s family, and Howie all go from a scream- or gasp-inducing encounter with a harmless, yet misunderstood person, idea, or creature. By instinct or design, their targets of negative feedback join up with or are backed by parties better known to the fearful. Through that bridge, the fearful open their minds and thaw out their frosty, adamant attitudes.

Without those interventions, and more crucially without their own possessors’ cooperation, some closed minds may have continued to trap hot, empty air and kept all of the cold outside. The preferred outcome is one of more balance as cooler heads prevail and temperate external warmth promotes coexistence.