I'll never forget the moment that my daughter came out to me. It was Christmas Eve, 2001, and we had just returned from the candlelight service at Underhill Town Hall. Laura and I were alone in the kitchen, putting together dinner for the family. I glanced at her, and she was sitting across the counter from me, with a goofy grin on her face. Now, you have to understand, Laura gets this look when she's about to tell you something very sad, or very serious - it's her version of a nervous giggle. I knew that look, and mother's intuition told me to brace myself. My knife poised in midair above the bread, I asked her "What?"
She grinned and replied, "Mom, I've got something to tell you ... I'm in love with a girl."
I confess I reeled a little bit, and murmured to myself, "Okay, breathe ". And to Laura, "Tell me more." We spent the next day or two with questions and answers flowing back and forth.
Besides the usual questions a mother asks when her daughter says she's in love with a girl - who is she? What's she like? Is it serious? -
I had other questions to help me understand when Laura's life had taken this turn. I asked her "When did you realize you were gay?"
"I'm not sure that I am, Mom. I don't like a person because of their gender; it's because of who they are. "
"So, you're bisexual?" I asked, struggling to understand.
She replied honestly, calmly. "I'd rather not have to stick a label on myself, but I guess that one would work for now."
I was surprising myself. Ten minutes into the coming out conversation, and I just wanted my daughter to be a clear-cut lesbian. Let me put you in a box so that I can grasp this. But Laura was wiser than I. She, at age 22, understood that sexuality is far more complicated than we like to admit. We are all a mix of male and female; it's just the ratios that vary. But we are uncomfortable if we can't categorize a person, it's how our minds work. The GLBT - gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender - community confounds us. We don't know where they fit into our mental boxes. And so, many of us fear them, and that fear turns hateful, and that hate was what had me worried.
Homophobia continues to be my biggest fear as the mother of a lesbian. I am sad that her sexual orientation will make her life more difficult. She and Mandy, her partner of three years, have been harassed on the subway, screamed at on the street, and insulted by strangers. I fear for their safety. Last summer, we were walking along the waterfront in Burlington, and Laura and Mandy were holding hands. I felt the clutch of anxiety in my stomach, concerned that this simple expression of affection might cause someone to react to our family with hate. This is the anxiety that the GLBT community has to live with every day.
Flashback to about ten years before that evening. That was when my transformation began, the one from uh-oh to oh yeah! I remember the moment very clearly. Amy, my oldest, Laura and I were watching a movie in which two gay men were kissing, and I said "Ew ".
Amy turned to me in surprise. "Why ew?"she wanted to know.
I was pulled up short by my gut response, and I answered, "I don't know, it just makes me uncomfortable."
And she, in her youthful wisdom, said, "Maybe you should figure out why ", and turned back to the movie.
That was the gentle nudge that sent me on a spiritual journey which is still unfolding. You might ask, "Why spiritual?" Well, I believe that it was my spirit that was calling me to grow beyond my unreasoned reactions, beyond what I had unconsciously absorbed from our culture. It was time to be conscious, to wake up and think for myself, to push past the boundaries of what I'd been taught, time to search for my own truth.
So I began to look at my discomfort. Did I honestly believe that homosexuality was wrong? I thought carefully, and decided that it was just another of those interesting variations of humankind, and hurt no one. I dug deeper, and uncovered something quite nasty. Part of the aversion response seemed to be linked to a particularly harmful unspoken misconception, one that feels like dirt in my mouth - that homosexuals are perverts, quite possibly pedophiles. Children must be kept safe from their unwholesome influence. Think of the Boy Scouts. Once I recognized the heinous power of this lie, I became angry, and realized that it was a very effective tool to justify homophobia and hate crimes. And when I saw it for what it was, a lot of my reservations dissolved.
But I realized that it would take some effort on my part to bring my unwanted gut response into alignment with my reasoning mind. I began a systematic desensitization program. I watched movies with gay themes -The Birdcage, Boys Don't Cry, Better than Chocolate, In and Out. I read gay books, starting with the Tales of the City series by Armistead Maupin. I just gave myself plenty of opportunities to get comfortable, and it actually worked.
It was around this time that Ellen Degeneres came out to America on her sitcom show "Ellen ". Already being a fan of the show, I remember being so impressed by her bravery that I spoke of it during joys and concerns at my Pennsylvania UU fellowship. I remember saying, "Who knows? One of my children may turn out to be gay, and it's courageous people like Ellen that might make their lives a little easier. "Talk about foreshadowing!
But I do want to take a moment to acknowledge the positive power of the television media. For whatever reason, the GLBT community has become much more visible to America in the past 15 years due to shows like Soap, Roseanne, Ellen, Will and Grace, and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I'm not saying that these are always positive images, but at least homosexuality is no longer a taboo subject. And who knows, perhaps the model for my desensitization project, just being exposed to an idea over time, might eventually allow people to become more accepting. It could happen.
At around the time of Ellen's coming out, my girls were bringing home wonderful UU teenagers that they had met at UU youth conferences, affectionately known as "cons"- in fact, we hosted several unofficial UU cons at our home, where I got to spend time visiting with gay and lesbian youth. These kids were lucky enough to be growing up and coming out in welcoming families and UU communities. Not all are so fortunate.
According to PBS' Gay and Lesbian news show, "In the Life", 33 percent of all teen suicides are from the GLBT community, and Boston outreach workers estimate that up to 60 percent of the city's homeless youth are gay. The sad truth is that many who come out are disowned by their families and rejected by their peers. What I find almost impossible to accept is that, quite often, this shunning is done in the name of God. Both fundamentalist Christianity and Islam forbid homosexuality, branding it "an abomination ", and queer youth find themselves cast out of these spiritual communities if they insist upon being who they are.
My own nephew is a case in point. My brother's family is born-again Christian, and has refused to accept Brian's homosexuality, insisting that he can be cured if he tries hard enough and trusts in Jesus. Brian has attempted suicide and continues to suffer from debilitating depression. Is it any wonder?
Considering these difficulties, it's not surprising that Laura was in no hurry to come out to our extended families. We talked about it with her because it felt dishonest to be holding back so many details when they would ask "How's Laura? ". But she told Gary and me that she was not ready to face their possible censure, not yet. We certainly understood her reluctance, and kept silent. It was not our story to tell.
But when Laura and Mandy decided to get married this coming summer, something shifted. Laura was finally ready. She wrote a wonderful coming out letter - honest, compassionate, unapologetic - and posted it to both families. We waited, with some trepidation, for the responses to roll in.
A few weeks later, we heard from my sister, who is a fundamentalist Christian. Her reaction was not surprising, but that didn't make it any less painful. She said that she and my niece, who shares her religious viewpoint, were both "heartbroken and devastated "by Laura's disclosure. According to her beliefs, homosexuality is a sin, and she could not condone it under any circumstances. Up until that moment, I had withheld my feelings out of respect for her obviously strong convictions, but now it was time to speak my truth. I said that, for our family, homosexuality was not a sin or a sickness or a syndrome or something that needed to be fixed. It was just another way of loving, and we were absolutely fine with it. We loved Mandy and were thrilled that she and Laura had found each other. It felt so wonderful to finally say those words. My sister and I agreed to disagree.
My mother-in-law was also unable to accept Laura's news. She said that she was glad that her husband was dead so that he would never have to know. Again, it was her Christian faith that informed her viewpoint. She asked plaintively, "Why can't they just be friends?" I thought Gary's answer to his mom was wonderfully truthful and simple - "Because that's not how they feel about each other." I was so proud of his dignified defense of his daughter.
To be completely fair, these women still love Laura and have told her so. They just can't accept something that their religious leaders have told them is wrong. And that is where I lay my anger - at the feet of people who have turned the love of God into a weapon of hate.
It's so hard to talk about God and come anywhere near our soul's true experience of the Divine. When I speak about the love of God, I'm not referring to some vengeful patriarch from an ancient holy book; I'm talking about All That Is, that unexpected transcendent glimmer that we are sometimes blessed with, that flash of knowing we are all one, all connected with everything that we can imagine. It is that deep soul knowledge that nudges me to remember that I am connected to those with whom I heartily disagree, and I owe it to them to try to accept them where they stand and, as Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi would counsel, love them into change.
To reflect on the spiritual aspect of this journey for a moment: my story today showcases a process that I find awe-inspiring. If I consciously strive to be open to the Divine, and am willing to follow Its leadings, I am sent exactly where I need to go, even if I don't yet understand why I am going there. When I trust my intuition, I am given the guidance I need to meet life as it unfolds. I find it quite miraculous. I was given exactly the right circumstances to prepare me for Laura's coming out long before I knew that they would be needed. I have learned that it really pays off to listen to the still small voice within.
Happily, not all of the responses were negative, far from it. Over half were thrilled for Laura and rejoiced at her happiness. Their support has drawn us closer together, as much as others' rejections have torn us apart.
Now that the dust is starting to settle, I am realizing that Laura and Mandy's courageous coming out has inspired me to follow their excellent example. Before, I would only share about Laura if I knew my companion was sympathetic, but now I am free to proudly proclaim "My daughter and her partner are getting married in August! ", and not be unduly concerned about whether my listener will be pleased or shocked. That is no longer my concern. My own small role in Laura's coming out has been to stand by her side, solid and proud, and not be afraid to speak our truth. That is what has set us free.
In closing, I want to say how happy I am that my spiritual community, Unitarian Universalists, have been so faithful in their unswerving support of the GLBT community and their ongoing struggle for basic human rights - life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I pray that we continue our journey together always until the battle is won and everyone is given the respect and justice they deserve. I thank our queer brothers and sisters for their bravery, honesty, and steadfast endurance. They call to the best in us, and we're blessed by their presence. And from my heart, thank you to Laura, for being who she is.