Like Sands in the Hourglass

       

Alright, folks there's been a few complaints about my lack of posting.  Guilty as charged.  The Christmas vortex sucked me in and I lost track of my lgbt quest for understanding.  We've been on the road for the last several days and I've got plenty of material to cover, but right now my stomach is on the brink of bursting from C12H22O11 toxicity.  Nasty, nasty condition.  Damn fruitcake.  Why can't just one Christmas party be a vegan abundance of healthful, guilt free choices?  I'm not vegan, but am thinking a few meat and dairy free weeks sound pretty great.  I just need to make it through the New Year festivities and if the food doesn't kill me, the people certainly will.   

  I attended Christmas party #3 of 12 a few weeks ago; this one was a matter of voluntold attendance as it was for my husband's work.  Joy. To. The. World.  In case you don't know, I'm not a fan of parties.  Mostly, because of the people attending.  I want to be a people person, but after many failed attempts I fear the cause is a lost battle.  My closest friends feel the same and also prefer wall skimming versus mingling.  We have a way of finding one another and on this grand, grand occasion I scanned the room for anti-minglers. I put my toe in the water with a few guests, but quickly learned they were altogether happy to be there, sipping cheap wine and eating lukewarm shrimp.  I had been watching the clock on the mantel, waiting for the mandatory 2 hour attendance mark to pass when I felt a pull on my arm.  Ahhhh!  Finally!  Someone to watch the mantel clock with me!

  The woman pulled me aside with a serious whisper, "I was talking with your husband and you and I have something in common with our sons."  Well, that caught my interest and I suddenly felt ready to mingle.  I looked in her eyes and could see her concern.  She needed to talk and despite the public setting I was ready to listen.  Talking about homosexuality with strangers can feel intimidating, so I gave her a warm smile and waited for her to continue.  She started, "My son is like your son and has been having a hard time in the classroom."  I felt a little confused and apparently it showed.  She lowered her voice even further and continued, "I think our son also has ADD."  Attention Deficit Disorder?  Aw crap, she's talking about my second grade son.

  I was both amused and disappointed.  Attention Deficit Disorder is certainly something I care about, since my youngest struggles with it daily, but my train of thought had already headed in the opposite direction.  The two do have something in common: about 1 in 10 people are gay (some say as many as 1 in 20, but I'm not going to argue the measurability of homosexuality) and about 1 in 10 people have some form of ADD.  These groups of people are also both freethinking human beings with self-evident rights: all men (and women) are created equal.  I guessed my new friend was not going to be in the mood for this direction of conversation and my eyes traveled back to the clock on the mantel.  Score!  We had hit the mandatory 2 hour attendance mark and I thought, "I'm sorry, miss, but our time is up for today."  As if on cue, my husband appeared and we were quick to make our departure.  I exchanged contact information with the woman, should she want to further discuss that thing our sons have in common.  I left feeling a bit like an ass, which wouldn't be a first, but all in all the party was worthwhile.  No one noticed my donkey ears and the mantel clock was right on time.   

    

LGBT Families...

How do you tell your extended family that you have a LGBT child and when?  Time to repeat myself: It’s private!  There is no Bar Mitzvah or Quinceañera style, “I’m gay!” celebration.  We don’t paint rainbows over our doorframe or place announcements in the local newspaper.  In contrast, the child typically steps in fear, wondering how their family might react to their sexuality.   Not the ideal mindset for an innocent youth.  The child’s first and foremost fear is how we as parents might react.  Society has already done a fantastic job of imbedding in their minds that homosexuality is a perversion.  So, their eyes turn to the parent.  After all, we know absolutely everything!  Moms and dads are perfect and hold the key of knowledge to unlock all childhood mysteries.   At least, that’s what I thought as a child.  Spoiler alert: I was wrong.    

The answer is, I don’t know how in the hell to tell family and if there were a “LGBT Families For Dummies”, I would buy and distribute the book.  Here’s the real kicker: I guarantee everyone has a LGBT family member and many quietly acknowledge the fact, but it’s still treated as taboo.   If you can hear me screaming, it’s because I had a close family member make an obnoxious Facebook post regarding gay marriage and it stung.  Now, have I sat down with this family member and discussed my son’s sexuality?  No, though I assume he knows.   I’m sure if I did talk about it with him, he might be more careful with his insensitive words.  But, I don’t want him to make an exception, because of my son; I want him to realize all LGBT people deserve equal rights.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t have that type of mindset and will continue to condemn, because the Bible tells us so (not my belief). 

Words hurt.  How prepared are teens in dealing with hurtful messages?  “Gay marriage is wrong!” or “You will burn in hell for gay acts!”  I mentioned 14-year-old Jamey Rodemeyer in an earlier entry.  As a gay teen, he had the support of his parents, friends and therapist, but still was the victim of bullying and words, "I wouldn't care if you died. No one would. So just do it :) It would make everyone WAY more happier!"  So he took their advice and killed himself.  Jamey should still be here.  Jamey is one of the reasons I started this blog.

I’ve managed to talk to my parents about my son’s sexuality and now I feel the need to talk to the family member who wrote those hurtful words.  I don’t expect him to change his mindset; I just want him to use more thought when blasting his opinions.  Or maybe less thought.  Or maybe I should hit him with that “For Dummies” book.  I just want to ask him to place more focus on love and acceptance.  He and I need to sit down and share a sandwich. 

Touché In A Good Way

I decided to do a little Christmas shopping this morning and found myself browsing the aisles of Ulta.  My son loves salon products (though I torture him with the more cost efficient drug store brands) and was looking for a value gift set.  None were to be found.  I had a short list of items for myself and started hunting for those.  No such luck.  Frustration started to set in, as I had coupons burning a hole in my pocket and beauty products calling my name.  I combed through the store looking for something, anything, worth buying.  My last stop was in the flat iron section.  My son has been complaining about his current flat iron "frying his hair", so maybe I would strike gold there.  Since I’ve already admitted to buying drug store shampoo (Suave to be exact), you’ve probably guessed I am not willing to shell out $100+ dollars for a flat iron.  I skimmed through the price tags, looking for something with a name brand (important to him) and low price.  I zeroed in on a hot pink Bed Head 1" flat iron for $30.  Eureka!  I began inspecting my prospect, when I felt the radar eyes of a sales associate zooming in on me.  When this happens, my guard immediately flies up.  I made my start in retail and know the associates have daily, do or die, sales goals.  I did not want to go through the spiel as to why I really NEEDED to purchase the $100 Chi flat iron.  Look lady, no one NEEDS a $100 flat iron, let alone my teenage son.  She made her way over with a glossy red smile and wing tipped eyes and asked if she could help me find anything.  I told her I had just found what I was looking for and explained it was for my teenage son.  She eyeballed the iron for a moment and looked at me with hesitance, “How do you think he’s going to feel about it being pink?”

Pause.  I have a filter, I really do.  Every time I’m asked a question, I usually think of a silent response only I could appreciate, and then speak the one I know to be appropriate.  This morning I suffered a slight filter malfunction and responded in a ‘duh’ sort of fashion, “My son is gay, he loves pink.”  She didn’t even give me time to regret or enjoy my comment with her quick reply, “My daughter is a lesbian and she can’t stand pink.”  Well damn.  This was a first.  My filter malfunction is often used as a scare tactic to make annoying people go away and she just one upped me.  Impressive.  God, maybe I do need a $100 flat iron. 

I asked the sales associate (turns out she’s the manager) if she was serious and she gave me a grinning, yes.  She told me her daughter is 23 and came out to her when she was 20.  We went on to talk for about 15 minutes comparing some of our parenting experiences.  She didn’t know her daughter was gay, growing up, but in retrospect felt there were some signs she missed.  The example she used: Her daughter would get very upset over tiffs with her (platonic) girlfriends.  More upset than what she felt was normal.  She had no idea these girlfriends were actually crushes.  Remember how tough that was?  Ugh, the heartache!  So, not only was her daughter having her heart broken, she had no one to talk about it with.  Double heartache!  

Our conversation was interrupted by a customer and we said a quick goodbye.  I felt so glad to have this exchange and left feeling completely exhilarated.  Funny how easily we connect with strangers, when we should really place more focus on connecting with those closest to us.  Thank you Ulta for a little life lesson and no, I did not buy the $100 flat iron. 

Child Predators

The accusations of child molestation on Penn State’s former assistant football coach, Jerry Sandusky, have opened a topic of discussion that I’ve been leery about sharing.  But, if I am going to talk about my experience with raising a gay teen, it’s important to discuss the good and the bad.  My son was not a victim of sexual abuse (according to today’s laws and standards), but came very close.  

If I’ve not made it obvious, my son and I are close.  We talk about almost everything and I long ago broke the parenting rule of not making friends with your child.  Be.The.Authority. Why not both?  Though some might argue the two conflict, I disagree in the realm of parenting.  I need to be friends with my child.  

He and I have been chatting as I type and he just headed out the door for school saying, “Text me.”  I asked, “Why?” His response, “I dunno, just text me and we can talk.”  That is the kind of relationship I want with my child.  He wants me in his life.  

Who feels comfortable getting nailed with questions by a figure of pure authority and how honest are they going to be with their answers?  Do not let me sugar coat this.  He frequently tries to skirt around the truth, but since we’re friends I can call him out on a lie in an instant, which results in a thin defenseless smile.   Truth then follows.  Poor kid.  I need to know when he is feeling down and why. I need to know what his relationships are like with his peers and teachers.  I need to know what paths lay before him, so I can offer advice about what they might bring.  I talk to him about music, tv shows, my experiences as a teen and so on, but there are perimeters to the friendship.  I don’t discuss finances (other than the importance of limitations and responsibility) or treat him as a confidant; I reserve those conversations for my husband.  There are various levels of friendship and I believe an authoritative friendship is possible.  We are close, but when he ignores chores, rules, academic expectations, etc., authority kicks in and he often faces a penalty (loss of cell phone, car, etc.)  My stance is he is working for himself, not me.  He is not my protégé, he is his own.  I am his biggest advocate and want nothing more than to see him happy and a productive contributor to society.  A parent is a blend of variables: guardian, role model, friend, adviser and more.  Add a splash of make life miserable (name your poison, for me it’s not giving him an allowance), so they can see what the real world is like and you have your formula.  My way isn’t necessarily the best way, but I’ve managed to open a bridge of communication.  Unfortunately, our bridge has experienced barriers.   

Facebook is an obvious danger as the perfect playground for predators and pedophiles.  My son, with my permission, created a Facebook profile when he was 14 and I religiously monitored his friend’s list.  His privacy settings were as tight as they could be.  One summer, when he was 15 I noticed he was friends with a man who appeared to be in his 40’s and I asked him about the ‘friendship’.  The man was friends of a family member, but to us a complete stranger.  Red flags everywhere, I explained that no 40+ year old stranger has any business being Facebook friends with him and insisted the man be deleted immediately.  I checked my son’s friend’s list for the man’s name in the following months and the problem appeared to be resolved.  Wrong.       

My son officially came out to me when he was 14.  More on that subject another time.  When he was 16, I caught him sneaking out and immediately confiscated his phone.  His sneaking out was a massive breach of trust and I needed answers.  I read all of his text messages, which showed nothing incriminating (always on the scout for alcohol and drug use).  Realizing his Facebook application was open; I decided to read all of his private messages.  This is when my heart dropped to the floor.  He and the strange man, who I quickly learned was also gay, had been corresponding via private message for over a year, starting when he was 15.  In the beginning, many of the conversations were harmless.  On the cover, the man seemed impressive, worldly and cool.  I Googled his name and several national newspapers and magazines mention him, as he is the long time manager of a famous national park attraction.  His occupation made my heart doubly sink: His job was to interact with families and children on the daily basis.  The conversations were baited and my son swallowed the hook.  I will not go into specifics, but as their conversations progressed the man began discussing penis size, sexual positions, techniques and fantasies of my son; it translated into over 30 pages of filth.  He even suggested my son try to visit, expenses paid.  I was sick and had no idea how to handle the matter.  I gave it one day of thought, asked advice from a few very close friends, and acted fast.

First, I sat down with my son, told him what I had discovered and poignantly explained the dangers of his correspondence with this man.  As he grew up, I had drowned him with talks about safety, right versus wrong, etc.  I asked him, “Why?!?!  You know better!”  He was embarrassed, but admitted to being curious about the man and tried to cushion it as a game; suggesting he and a female friend of his were egging the man on and laughing at what a big loser he was.  No way around it: the conversations were vulgar, inappropriate and potentially dangerous.  The man lives over 2000 miles from us and I did not feel like he was an immediate threat to my son; however, I was very concerned about the families and children he interacted with on the daily basis.

I contacted both local and federal authorities and was told because no pornographic material had been exchanged and no actual meeting ever took place, nothing illegal occurred.  That’s right!  Dirty old men or women can contact your children via the internet and be as verbally lewd as they wish.  No crime done.  To the authority’s credit, they recognized the potential danger and the man is currently under investigation as a child predator… while working at possibly your family’s next vacation destination.  1) Why does it take so many years and additional victims to justify removing a potential threat to children and 2) Why are lewd conversations between an adult and child legal?

  

This post is more than long winded, so I will take pause.  Love and guard your child and let them know you will always be their advocate.   

The Torch

I haven’t posted in a while, because I’ve spent the last few weeks processing the latest event: I took my own advice and told my mom her grandson is gay (said in big spooky voice).  She is one of the last to know about the ‘coming out’.  Really, she was probably one of the first (which she confirmed); since it was pretty apparent by the time he was 6 or 7.  As I’ve mentioned, my parents are Christian and homosexuality in their Book (also my Book) is a sin.  So, how did the conversation go? 

After a little liquid courage, I called my mom with purpose, spent some time on small talk, and then asked, “Mom, have you ever noticed anything different about your grandson?”  She quickly responded in her cut the bullshit tone with, “Just spit it out.”  You got it.  “Mom, he’s gay.” Silence, then, “Well, we’ve always suspected.  Maybe this is just something he’s exploring.”  I gulped another swig of wine and rolled my eyes, “No mom, not exploring.  He’s 17 and sure he’s gay.”  More silence. 

At first, she attempted the diplomatic approach and regurgitated a practiced speech regarding views found in the Bible.  In an attempt to match the ridiculous, I suggested brides who are discovered to be non-virgins be stoned to death…in front of their father’s house, of course (Deuteronomy 22:13-21).  Duh.  I received another cut the bullshit response (likewise, I thought) and decided to leave the Book alone for now. 

We talked for over 3 hours and I could hear her swallowing tears.  She ended the conversation with, “I will always love my grandson unconditionally and it is not my place to judge.”  Her heart has always been filled with love, so I was not surprised to hear those words.  She said she would research the matter further and in the end, she also told my dad (the ultimate hurdle).  

I spoke with her about a week later and she decided to stick with the neutral ground: no judgment and love unconditionally.  As for dad, he stands with mom and promised to be more sensitive when telling gay jokes.  That’s mighty good of you dad.  I’m glad they plan to love their grandson unconditionally, but am not sure I would dub the conversation a success.  Instead of accepting his homosexuality, they are tolerating it.  Can’t wait for the next family get together. 

Bottom line.  I remember riding in the back seat of my grandfather’s Camry as he drove to the local drugstore.  He began throwing around racial slurs and my 7 years of wisdom told me I should correct him.  I tried to explain we are all the same, all from the same God and all good.  He dodged my tutorial and swiftly moved onto the stupidity of female drivers.  I believe his words were, "They should be at home!  Having babies!"  Um hello?  Future female driver here in the backseat!  This might be where I learned to roll my eyes.  Inherently, I knew nothing I said would change his mind and settled for this:  I was in the present and working for the future and my grandfather was committed to guarding the past.  We must think about multiple scenarios of right versus wrong and accept there are multiple best ways; not just one.  Hopefully, my parents avoid running with my grandfather's torch and open their hearts to compassion and equality for all.  I expect this is something they will try to tuck neatly in a corner; little do they know the arena's shape is a circle.

Born This Way

How and when did I know my son was gay?  Hard to pinpoint.  Just last night, he told me his earliest memory is his birth.  His birth?  How is that possible?  Apparently, the emotional scarring from this memory, he argues, made an unforgettable imprint in his mind and is the reason he is gay.  He also assured me with pride that my failed attempts to breast feed were not my fault.  A small complication:all girl parts are just gross to him.  Had I known, I would have advised him to keep his eyes closed.  Why don't they go over these things in, What to Expect When You're Expecting?  He doesn't look malnourished, so I think we did alright.  More later on 'Born This Way'. 

Really Elmhurst?

I just noticed this Yahoo article regarding colleges asking applicants if they are LGBT.  The notion is absolutely absurd!  Once again, sexuality is private and I'm not sure how it is relevant to the admissions process.  Clearly their intentions are good, but offer resources for LGBT students and allow them to choose to participate.  This 'optional' question does not belong.  

More Sandwich Talk

I left home (more like house) and dropped out of high school when I was 16 and had my son when I was 17.  I kept my pregnancy a secret from my parents until I was around 5 months pregnant.  An anonymous ‘friend’ tipped them off and they popped over for a surprise visit on an early Sunday morning; making their entrance before I had time to throw on the standard hide my belly layers of baggy clothing.  They took me out so we could talk, which mostly consisted of, “What were you thinking!?!?” and my mom crying a lot.  We stopped off at a clothing store and my mom purchased a few maternity items for me.  After leaving the store, while riding in the backseat of their car my dad looked in the rear view mirror, caught my eyes and told me I had made, “…the biggest mistake of my life.”  That moment exploded inside of me and instinctually I felt defensive.  My circumstances were far from ideal, but no child is a mistake. I was relieved when they dropped me off at my dive apartment and I returned my focus to the thing that mattered most at the time: praying to God the child got my nose instead of his dad’s.  Ok, really, I prayed for the basics: health and means to provide for him.  Not once did sexuality cross my mind.  I’m not sure many mothers include ‘please give me a heterosexual baby' on their priority list.  There’s a reason for that: it’s not important.         

I’m spending some time talking about my own upbringing, because it contributed to my belief systems.  How I raise my son will cycle into how he raises his own children and so forth.  I suppose it’s a matter of sandwich making, once again.  Some use, add or take away ingredients based on their own preferences and though it’s still a sandwich, the outcome can be either fabulous or horrendous.  I cannot stand thoughtless sandwiches.  Sandwich making 101: Do not place tomato on the lettuce.  This creates a disastrous banana peel moment where the entire sandwich slips apart due to poor ingredient stacking.  Parenting  101: Do not stack unconditional love with conditions.  Please reference tomato and lettuce stacking for the outcome.  I suspected my son could be gay from a fairly early age, because of this I always emphasized the meaning of unconditional love and reassured him nothing could make that waiver.  I was preparing him for coming out.  Disclaimer- I have a feeling I’m making this sound very easy.  It’s not.  I relied heavily on my primal instinct to nurture and threw a ton of private temper tantrums.     

A Little Background

What I know: I am a parent of a gay teen.  My son is my joy and a gift from God; I will do everything to protect him.  He will tell you I am over protective and he is probably right.  Many times, I’ve envisioned sneaking a super spy gps tracking and audio recording device on the kid (maybe in his wallet?), but he’d probably counter act my brilliance with his own and arm himself with a gps tracking device detector disarming unit.  So, I’m forced to do things the old fashioned way and count on good parenting.  Is there such a thing? 

What I don’t know: All the rest.  Everything I talk about will be from personal experiences and I can’t claim our experiences in handling sexuality are the one best way.      

About me:  I am a heterosexual female from the Midwest (USA) and was brought up Catholic.  Very Catholic.  Fortunately, my parents raised me with the understanding that all people are created equal.  They were of course telling me there is no difference between black and white folks.  This is the only experience they had with civil rights.  The LGBT agenda did not exist (in their minds).  They had already surpassed their parent’s notions of equality, so their settlement on equal rights for black people was their badge of new age thinking.  They were headed in the right direction, but seemed to miss the message of their own argument.   My dad is extremely homophobic.  He used to tell antidotes about guys that struck him as queer and wrong while serving in Vietnam.  He would mimic them with exaggerated flamboyant gestures looking for me to agree with the absurdity of homosexuality.  Fortunately, I always referred back to their precedent setting “all are equal” statement, so the whole queer and wrong thing became mute.  Thanks mom and dad!  To date, neither of my parents acknowledges their grandson is gay.  I have to assume they know.  But, my mom, still holding out, talks about the jewelry that will be passed down to her grandson’s wife (partner).  I think we can make that happen.  They are the only people I am apprehensive about discussing this with, but I plan on changing that soon.  Time for me to follow my own advice. 

The Sandwich

Why a sandwich?  Who doesn’t like a good, well thought out sandwich?  Celebrities have sandwiches; their name alone adds to the zeal of experiencing a dazzling taste journey.  Manhattan’s Carnegie Deli offers the Woody Allen: pastrami and corned beef stacked on rye.  Not surprised The Woody is short on toppings, but for that very reason I’m staying away.  Go to Redwood City, CA and stop at the Heimerhaus Deli for a taste of Hugh Hefner (this already sounds somewhat displeasing).  The Hef is white bread and bunny.  Eat up.  Ok, not really, skip the bunny, add turkey, ham, chutney and pepper jack and you have The Hef.  I might go for that one, but what in the world is a LGBT?  In support of the LGBT cause, I decided they too deserve a sandwich and it already has a sort of sandwichy ring to it.  I tried this once about a month ago and am still trying to perfect the combination of ingredients.  We did lettuce, guacamole, bacon and tomato and it was decent, but I’m still looking for that wowza!  combination.  Rainbow colors welcome. 

I just did a quick search and it turns out I’m not the only one making a LGBT sandwich.  Damn!  Why are my inventions always 5 years too late?  Equally shattering, my son told me my rainbow flag image is both common and cliché.  Ouch.  I loathe cliché's, but common is exactly what I'm after. 

Intro

Allow me to introduce myself.  I am a mom, wife and Christian.  Not enough information?  Need more?  My living room is too small to sustain an elephant, so I will just answer the question.  I’m straight!  I know kind of boring, but it is how I was born and you’ll just have to accept it.  My teen son is gay, however, and that’s why I’m here. 

First thing I need to get off my chest: sexuality is personal.  Why must we identify people according to sexual preference?  Nose pickers are afforded this courtesy, though most will lie and say the act is unthinkable.  Look buddy, I’ve got nosepickerdar and it’s goin’ off like crazy.  Use.A.Kleenex.  Blow!  Please don’t use our local library!  No person should be required to give a sexual preference biography.  The notion is just weird, yet society expects this from individuals who could be possible non-heterosexuals.  Identity is a broad spectrum of variables and sexual preference should not be first on the getting to know you list.  Books, music, spirituality, life experiences, core values, nose picking.  The possibilities are endless, but in true make Freud proud fashion, we have this underlying need to know a person’s sexual preferences.  Show some class and leave it be.  In the meantime, I suggest nose pickers come out of the closet, so we can get you the help you need. 

Things that are bothering me right now.  Bullying.   Jamey Rodemeyer, you should still be with us and I am so very sorry society was not here to protect you.  You will not be forgotten and I hope our government reconsiders their anti-bullying strategy.  Religion.  I was raised Catholic and have this pulling desire to become more involved in the church, but refuse to expose my son to an environment that will condemn him.  This morning, a friend posted on Facebook a picture of a Baptist (Life Gate Baptist Church, Pitt County, NC) marquee sign stating, “Homosexuality is a sin”.  1)  Again, why are we discussing sexual preferences on a marquee?  Is it a sin to be on top or should I just stick with missionary?  2)  What happened to God is love?  There’s only One on the judge panel and it’s not you.  I feel like I failed my son in regards to religion, which is heart breaking.  Sure, I’ve taught him all I can about faith and religion, but society won’t allow him to worship without condemnation.  How empty. 

I‘ll leave it at that and return as the mood strikes.  I suppose I’m just wondering around, hands stretched out in front of me, looking for answers.  This I know: I refuse to give up on good.  I refuse to give up on God.  I will never give up on gay (LGBT) equality.