QUOTE
Laura Siegel writes:
On the first Sunday of May 1985, (for some reason parents remember
this date the way they remember their child's birthdate) my 19 year
old son asked me to meet him in Golden Gate Park. He had something
important to tell me.
After he jogged eight miles around the Polo Field track (he later
told me he was terrified of coming out) and we ate our picnic lunch,
he showed me his poetry journal.
Page after page was filled with phrases like "f**K the world,"
and "what does it matter." We sat quietly for a few moments before I
asked if there was anything else.
"Yes," he said, lowering his head.
Then silence.
"Are you gay?" I asked him.
I still don't know why I said this because I really had no idea that
he might be gay. He didn't fit any of the gay stereotypes. He was
athletic and he was not effeminite. If anything, I thought my
heterosexual son might be gay because he seemed the more "sensitive"
of the two.
The first comment I made was, "But you had a girlfriend." He said
that they were never very affectionate.
"You've known for awhile, right?" he asked me.
But I hadn't. How would I know? Because he liked to cook and clean
house?
After awhile I began to understand why he was sure I would know. This
is something he has always been. Being gay permeates every pore of
his being. If I suddenly had to come out to everyone as female, I
would probably also say, "You guessed right?" because...how could
they not.
I also began to realize that gay and lesbian people come in as many
varieties as heterosexual people. Stereotypes are what we see on TV
and in magazines - the man in a dress (he does wear dresses on
occassion, but that's another story), the woman in a man's suit.
These are all possibilities, but there are gay men who are football
players and lesbians who are wear makeup and high heels.
I wish he could have expressed his gayness at a very early age. When
I told my son I loved him, he breathed a sigh of relief and
said, "Now I can lower my shoulders. Now I can raise my voice an
octave." This saddened me more than anthing - that he was also
trapped in the stereotypical belief - that if he dared to relax his
posture or raise the pitch of his voice, then everyone would know he
was gay and he would be ostracized.
I hope we are learning now that our children have unique and varied
identities and we must love them not in spite of these variations but
because of them.
------------ --
Nancy Lampkin Olsen writes:
In fact, I 'Was' Thrilled
You know, I don't honestly think anything has changed since I first
learned that Christian was gay. But, to be honest, I'm the flake who
is convinced I knew he was gay practically from the day he was born,
remember?
Since Kurt and I have been going to PFLAG meetings, it has been
Christian who has had to rethink the coming out process. He is
forever saying that he created a monster between his father and me
because we are waaaaaay too far out there for his comfort at times.
This can be extremely frustrating for both Kurt and me. Isn't that
always the way things work in life? The parents who are okay with it
are the ones who have to be semi-muzzled because the child cannot be
as out as he'd like to be. Bummer.
But Kurt and I are not just celebrating Christian's orientation. We
celebrate every gay person's orientation. When Kurt and I met it was
on the "boards" at St. Louis Muny Opera in 1966. I'm not sure I had
ever consciously met a gay person before that, although I had a
degree in Theatre. Talk about naivete.
But as I was exposed to gay people, I truly fell in love. Theatre
people are exceptional anyway, but gay theatre people are in a class
by themselves. Kurt and I moved to New York City with a whole gaggle
of gay people from Muny Opera and it was a family like no other. We
had two older sons who had so many "eccentric" aunts, it wasn't
funny. So when Christian was born, he was born into a family of
gypsies. Around the age of 2 or 3 our friends tell me now, they knew
Christian was gay. How they knew, I don't know. They just did. I
won't go into reasons. Suffice it to say some of them were
stereotypical and I know that can be a hot button of sorts, so "I
won't go there, Loretta."
I firmly believe that it is a blessing to have gay people as friends.
In our case, because we came from a theatre background, when
Christian ultimately did come out to us, how could we, in good
conscience have treated our own son any less than we treated our
nearest and dearest friends?
I haven't had a moments regret that Christian is who he is, with a
caveat. I hate the fact that he is despised by so many. I hate the
fact that he has to look over his shoulder day in and day out because
to know him is to love him. I wonder why he is a threat to mainstream
America. He works very hard, pays his taxes, has a wonderful loving
relationship, is kind to animals, yadda yadda. I know that "gay
bashing" is said to be "violence against men who love men by men who
fear they love men." But sometimes I wonder if homophobia isn't
simply 'fear' of men who love men by men who fear they love men, at
least to some extent.
Somebody very wise in a FLAGPOLE article once said that when your son
or daughter comes out to you, nothing has really changed from when
that child first came into your life. Get in touch with the same
feelings you had when he or she was born and become a tiger for that
child. Kurt and I are tigers. Grrrrrrrr.
On the first Sunday of May 1985, (for some reason parents remember
this date the way they remember their child's birthdate) my 19 year
old son asked me to meet him in Golden Gate Park. He had something
important to tell me.
After he jogged eight miles around the Polo Field track (he later
told me he was terrified of coming out) and we ate our picnic lunch,
he showed me his poetry journal.
Page after page was filled with phrases like "f**K the world,"
and "what does it matter." We sat quietly for a few moments before I
asked if there was anything else.
"Yes," he said, lowering his head.
Then silence.
"Are you gay?" I asked him.
I still don't know why I said this because I really had no idea that
he might be gay. He didn't fit any of the gay stereotypes. He was
athletic and he was not effeminite. If anything, I thought my
heterosexual son might be gay because he seemed the more "sensitive"
of the two.
The first comment I made was, "But you had a girlfriend." He said
that they were never very affectionate.
"You've known for awhile, right?" he asked me.
But I hadn't. How would I know? Because he liked to cook and clean
house?
After awhile I began to understand why he was sure I would know. This
is something he has always been. Being gay permeates every pore of
his being. If I suddenly had to come out to everyone as female, I
would probably also say, "You guessed right?" because...how could
they not.
I also began to realize that gay and lesbian people come in as many
varieties as heterosexual people. Stereotypes are what we see on TV
and in magazines - the man in a dress (he does wear dresses on
occassion, but that's another story), the woman in a man's suit.
These are all possibilities, but there are gay men who are football
players and lesbians who are wear makeup and high heels.
I wish he could have expressed his gayness at a very early age. When
I told my son I loved him, he breathed a sigh of relief and
said, "Now I can lower my shoulders. Now I can raise my voice an
octave." This saddened me more than anthing - that he was also
trapped in the stereotypical belief - that if he dared to relax his
posture or raise the pitch of his voice, then everyone would know he
was gay and he would be ostracized.
I hope we are learning now that our children have unique and varied
identities and we must love them not in spite of these variations but
because of them.
------------ --
Nancy Lampkin Olsen writes:
In fact, I 'Was' Thrilled
You know, I don't honestly think anything has changed since I first
learned that Christian was gay. But, to be honest, I'm the flake who
is convinced I knew he was gay practically from the day he was born,
remember?
Since Kurt and I have been going to PFLAG meetings, it has been
Christian who has had to rethink the coming out process. He is
forever saying that he created a monster between his father and me
because we are waaaaaay too far out there for his comfort at times.
This can be extremely frustrating for both Kurt and me. Isn't that
always the way things work in life? The parents who are okay with it
are the ones who have to be semi-muzzled because the child cannot be
as out as he'd like to be. Bummer.
But Kurt and I are not just celebrating Christian's orientation. We
celebrate every gay person's orientation. When Kurt and I met it was
on the "boards" at St. Louis Muny Opera in 1966. I'm not sure I had
ever consciously met a gay person before that, although I had a
degree in Theatre. Talk about naivete.
But as I was exposed to gay people, I truly fell in love. Theatre
people are exceptional anyway, but gay theatre people are in a class
by themselves. Kurt and I moved to New York City with a whole gaggle
of gay people from Muny Opera and it was a family like no other. We
had two older sons who had so many "eccentric" aunts, it wasn't
funny. So when Christian was born, he was born into a family of
gypsies. Around the age of 2 or 3 our friends tell me now, they knew
Christian was gay. How they knew, I don't know. They just did. I
won't go into reasons. Suffice it to say some of them were
stereotypical and I know that can be a hot button of sorts, so "I
won't go there, Loretta."
I firmly believe that it is a blessing to have gay people as friends.
In our case, because we came from a theatre background, when
Christian ultimately did come out to us, how could we, in good
conscience have treated our own son any less than we treated our
nearest and dearest friends?
I haven't had a moments regret that Christian is who he is, with a
caveat. I hate the fact that he is despised by so many. I hate the
fact that he has to look over his shoulder day in and day out because
to know him is to love him. I wonder why he is a threat to mainstream
America. He works very hard, pays his taxes, has a wonderful loving
relationship, is kind to animals, yadda yadda. I know that "gay
bashing" is said to be "violence against men who love men by men who
fear they love men." But sometimes I wonder if homophobia isn't
simply 'fear' of men who love men by men who fear they love men, at
least to some extent.
Somebody very wise in a FLAGPOLE article once said that when your son
or daughter comes out to you, nothing has really changed from when
that child first came into your life. Get in touch with the same
feelings you had when he or she was born and become a tiger for that
child. Kurt and I are tigers. Grrrrrrrr.
