Written for Out There! Collaborations, an on-line collaboration project. The topic was concerning parents. Perhaps here is a good place to mention, my mother does read everything I write, and is well aware of every aspect of my life. Well, not EVERY aspect, but she knows enough about it.
Blame My Parents
A Gay Opinion 3/07/01
by R.A. Melos
I was raised by wolves. A pair of heterosexuals gave birth to me and, upon
discovering the truth about the aberration to which they gave birth, promptly
took me on a picnic in the woods and left me there to be found by a benevolent
she-wolf. No, that's not truth, but it's what a lot of heterosexuals want to
believe about all homosexuals.
There still, even in these enlightened times, seem to be a group of heterosexuals who simply can't believe a perfectly natural homosexual can result from their animalistic passion. I would like to know where these "intelligent heterosexuals" think homosexual come from? Do they think we are manufactured in some neat little factory ala Willy Wonka?
Yup, the secret is out. All homosexuals are hybrids of the elusive Uumpah Loompahs. Well, not all. There are studies, real medical studies, with government funding, which prove one out of every three children has the elusive "homosexual genes". No, I don't mean Calvin Klines.
My own parents were from a generation which didn't think of such things as homosexuality. If they did, they never talked about it, unless it was in hushed tones when the children weren't supposed to be listening. They were born before the time known as, "The Great Depression."
My father's parents were Russian immigrants, my father and his sisters being first generation American born. My mother's family had been here a little longer, being of English, Irish, French and German descent, with a bit of Native American blood tossed in for good measure.
My parents were typical people of the 1950s and 60s. Much like everyone else, I imagine, since I didn't come along until 1963, and wasn't really aware of much before 1981. Okay, I was pretty much in my own world most of my life, self absorbed in dealing with the traumas of growing up gay and not knowing what gay was or meant, but knowing I was different.
The most important lesson my parents taught me was communication, which I ignored until I was outed. I do regret ignoring this lesson, because, other then my homosexuality, I always felt comfortable enough to discuss anything with my parents. Open honest communication was offered to me from birth, and thus the reason, as a child, I was rather trusting. It wasn't until I grew up, and was burned by the first person I chose to trust, when I stopped trusting.
Now one could argue, by revealing all of this on the Internet, in such an open fashion, I am still trusting. Well, sorry to disappoint, but my putting my feelings on the Internet and openly discussing every issue which effects me has nothing to do with trust. My outspokenness comes from my genetic make up. No, not "the gay gene", but from other genes supplied by my parents.
My father always told me I could do anything I set my mind to do. He also told me I was equal in importance to everyone else on Earth. This is something many people overlook in their daily struggle to out do, or be better than, everyone else. I learned money doesn't make you important, nor does beauty. Importance, a feeling of self-worth, comes from within. You are as important as the next person, and not more so.
My parents weren't rich, but apparently "did okay", as far as finance went. They gave me more than money could buy, because they loved me. I didn't realize exactly how precious knowing your parents love is, until a man once told me his children were "financial obligations". My father never, even in jest, considered me his "little write-off," or "little deduction." I never thought people really talked this way, or thought this way, but it was made painfully obvious to me, there are people who don't care about their children.
Oh, they love how it looks to others to be a parent, but they don't love their children the way I was loved, of that I am sure. I know this because I was terrified, if my parents found out my secret, I would lose that love. While I never actually came out to my father, I know for a fact he knew the truth about me before he died, and he loved me and was proud of me.
My mother is still alive, and it was her love I was terrified of losing. After I was outed to her by my vindictive ex-lover, whom ran back into his own closet and still resides there even after I did him a similar favor, my mother went through a lot of grief and pain, but she never stopped loving me. It took a lot for her to come to terms with being the mother of a gay male, let alone one who is determined to be so vocal about his natural born inclination, but she seems to have done it with a certain style all her own.
I'll say again, it was really strange the first time my mother pointed out a man to me and said he was cute. Actually it was strange because I discovered I obviously don't have the same taste in men as my mother, but at least she made an effort. I find it had to believe there could be a parent out there who is ignorant enough to hate what they helped to create.
Yes, heterosexuals, you did help to create your homosexual children. And those of you who are embarrassed by, or disowned, your homosexual children should be ashamed of yourselves. The religious right-winged fanatics preach how precious children and parenthood are, yet so many of you throw it away because it doesn't live up to the image you had of it when you yourself were a child.
To consider your children "financial obligations", or to disown your children because they are not perfect carbon copies of yourself, is, to me, the most unforgivable sin you could commit as a parent. Alas, most heterosexuals don't consider anything beyond themselves when they are in the "throws of passion", or involved in yet another desperate attempt to procreate so they can be a "fulfilled woman."
In the heterosexual rush to procreate the future parents never stop to consider what they would do if their child were gay. An interesting play "The Twilight of the Golds" dealt with the possibility of genetic research being able to tell if a child was going to be born gay, and explored how the perspective parents would react. Science fiction maybe, but not without merit.
I don't wonder what decision my parents would've made, if they had the option of such genetic research back in the day. I can say with complete confidence my parents taught me to love, and I was loved and am loved by them. I have no doubts what their decision would've been, but I wonder how many homosexual children of heterosexual parents have the same confidence in their parents.
Now there are many parents of homosexuals who do love their children, and are proud of them. There are organizations such as P-Flag, which is not only a support group for parents of homosexual children, but an organization which helps homosexual children of heterosexual parents feel pride in their parents.
So, the next time you see a pregnant woman, or a couple with a baby carriage, ask yourself, if that child is gay, will that child be accepted and loved? Will that child accept his parents and love them? Remember, praise and blame are two sides of the same coin.
My parents instilled many things in me, truth, honesty, self-love and self-respect, and an outspokenness which resulted in my taking to cyber space with gay opinions. So, if you don't like my outspoken attitude, or my blatant honesty, or my unmoving truth, blame my parents. Of course I would come to their defense as quickly as they would to mine.
Out There! Collaborations