There are a ton of queer people out there who love horror movies, and I’m definitely one of them. But my love is reserved for a specific niche of horror movies: the slasher films of the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s. The cheaper, the better! Yeah, they’re cheesy and predictable, but there are some hidden gems in the genre. And let’s be honest: even when they’re bad, they’re still entertaining! My loved ones would describe me the same way, so that’s another reason why I love them.
There was once a time, though, when even the most innocent of these slasher flicks could induce the most vivid of nightmares in me. You see, I was a scared little kid. What I was scared of, I could not actually tell you. Mainly, there was something inside of me that I was leery of that manifested itself outwardly. That is until I found out that I had a namesake, and that namesake was a slasher flick legend: Jason Voorhees.
Learning that you were named after a hockey-masked serial killer might traumatize another, but it instead set me on a journey that took me from being a frightened queer child to a resilient queer adult. Wanna hear about that journey? Here goes…
And before you ask, no, I have not killed anyone. But I have been known to slay a stage or two. (I already warned you in the first paragraph that I’m cheesy and predictable at times, so just indulge me a bit, ok?)
Appropriately enough, the third installment of the Friday The 13th series, the only one in 3D, debuted in theaters on Friday, August 13th, 1982. At the time, my mother was very pregnant with me and taking care of a household that included my then teenage sisters and 4-year-old brother. Knowing my birth was imminent, she decided to take my sisters out for one last summer hurrah before she wouldn’t be able to anymore and picked the new Friday The 13th to see. As the story goes, my brother would have no part of being left behind while they went to see the movie. My mother insisted he would hate the movie, but he didn’t care, and the tantrum he threw proved it, so my mother relented and took him as well. Turns out, my mother was right, and the credits coming out of the screen were enough for my brother to jump on our mother’s lap and bury his face into, well, me for the entire movie.
Two weeks later, I made my debut into the world, and my parents named me Justin. Justin was my name for two whole days until my brother met me. He took one look at me and said, “I don’t like that name, Justin. Name him after that killer guy.” My parents liked that idea, and I went from Justin to Jason.
Have I mentioned that my father’s name was Michael(as in Myers from Halloween) and my brother’s name is Damien(you know, from The Omen)? This is all a coincidence, by the way, but it also kind of describes the household I grew up in.
My parents and my brother, in particular, were all bold and brave personalities. The coincidence of our names probably stemmed from the fact that they all adored horror movies. They also worshiped sports. And they all loved roller coasters. And of course, they took no shit from anybody. And then there was me. Scary movies absolutely terrified me. Sports completely bored me. I rode the Racer at Kennywood for the first time when I was six, and it thoroughly traumatized me. And to make up for my slightly effeminate nature, I allowed myself to be a bit of a punching bag. I was different, and I knew it. As a child, I had no way of knowing that my ‘difference’ was my queerness. And because of that, I didn’t know that it was something to be proud of. No, no, quite the opposite, actually. I was ashamed of it.
I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I first heard the anecdote about my name. I’m guessing I was around 6 or 7. What happened soon after, though, is amazing. Within a year of first hearing the story of my name, I found a used copy of the novelization of Friday The 13th Part 3 at a flea market at my Catholic elementary school. I’m not making this up. The ‘80s were a hell of a time. As fate would have it, my nerdy and easily frightened self, who loved research even back then, stumbled upon a safe way to learn about my homicidal maniac namesake in a place where I was supposed to be learning about Jesus. So of course I bought it! And I read it. Devoured it even. The book was not tame in its descriptions of the kills and the gore, and yet, I had no nightmares afterward. Was I getting just a bit braver?
After completing the book, I asked my father to rent me a VHS copy of Friday The 13th, Part 3. I felt I was ready to take this next step. After all, I knew the plot of the movie already. I knew who was going to get killed, when, and how. No surprises, no nightmares, right? Well, my father granted my request – with mixed feelings, I’m sure – and I watched it and loved it! My next step was to start at the beginning and work my way through the series. And that’s what I did. Many, many, many times. I watched the Friday The 13th movies more than any impressionable preteen should. And that habit did not die down in my teenage years or my adult years, to be honest. I have VHS copies of the movies, DVDs, and the complete series on Blu-Ray. I have multiple t-shirts with Jason Voorhees’ image on them and the Crystal Lake Memories coffee table book. Now, don’t get me wrong. The movies are not masterpieces. The acting is questionable. The special effects are dated. Continuity and throughline are a joke. But yet, my devotion to this series does not wane.
In recent years, I have questioned why I enjoy watching a masked killer wreak havoc on summer camps and, oddly enough, Times Square one time so much. Does it make me some kind of psycho to partake in this kind of entertainment so frequently? Then I shifted my perspective a bit to make myself feel better about my entertainment choices and I realized that Jason Voorhees is a complicated individual. You see, he also grew up ‘different’. He had some developmental issues, but he also had a devoted mother who did the best she could to give him the life he deserved. Tragically, Jason lost his life due to the negligence of others…or did he? That aspect is unclear, but it is surmised that he witnessed his mother’s murder after she tried to avenge his tragic drowning, and this is what spurned his prolific killing spree. Jason kept beating death itself to avenge the killing of the person who was most devoted to him. I mean, that’s kinda beautiful, right? Plus, Jason knew he was different, but he did not let his otherness stop him from boldly standing up in the face of his oppressors, defeating them, and going after what he wanted out of his (after)life. If you cannot find inspiration in that, I don’t know what to tell you.
Eventually, I did grow out of my scared little kid phase, and I truly believe that my growth started the day I bought the novelization of Friday The 13th Part 3 at my school flea market. Once I learned exactly what someone named Jason, who was prone to feeling different, could do, however demented it may have been, it opened my eyes up to possibilities.
Jason Voorhees was actually very successful in his endeavors, so what was keeping me from succeeding besides myself? Well, it may have taken many years, but I now go after what I want, no matter how many times I may fail. I stand up for myself and set boundaries to protect my well-being. I do my best to recognize who loves me and is there for me, and I try my best to do the same for them. At times, I shock myself and others around me and defy the odds and succeed at something previously perceived as impossible, kinda like Jason Voorhees.
I picked up some of Jason Voorhees’ less-than-admirable qualities as well, though. As we covered earlier, I am sometimes cheesy and predictable. Also, I am definitely guilty of “masking” and hiding some true feelings and motivations. In the past, I have used words like machetes to cut people down. And what some may call my resilience, others may call my stubbornness. But hey, I’m a work in progress! This tale was about how I picked up perseverance from a fictional serial killer, not perfection!
21 years after I was born, my slasher flick namesake met another slasher legend on the big screen in Freddy Vs. Jason. As I sat in the theater, watching that terrible film, I had a comforting moment. There was a scene in which Kelly Rowland’s character, Kia, is called “dark meat” by Freddy Krueger. Kia then calls Freddy a “fa**ot” who “runs around in a Christmas sweater.” She continues to taunt him to get him to attack her but to everyone’s surprise, it’s actually Jason who sneaks up from behind and offs Kia. Then after a bit of a battle, Jason decapitates Freddy.
Now, don’t ‘spoiler alert’ me. The movie is 21 years old and truly awful. If anything, I just saved you some valuable time if you’ve never seen it. Anyways, as a black queer person, trust, I was not comforted by seeing the death of a member of Destiny’s Child. I was comforted by the fact that my namesake killed two people after they made racist and homophobic comments.
I may have gotten my name and some valuable life lessons from the villain in an ‘80s slasher flick but as it turns out, Jason Voorhees is also an ally. Happy Halloween!