I've mentioned the
church that I have attended for the past few years and how I got there. We are a liberal bunch, the trangendered, dykes, gay rev. and myself (the closeted queer)... Today I returned after choosing to be absent through the summer months. While the sermons can sometimes irritate me, as they often revolve around church business and finances, I can also twist them into more personal messages from which I can learn and move forward.
Today Rev Alex talked about the idea of growth. This is an ongoing theme at church; where "we" are from and going. The analogy he used was the Wizard of OZ, in that Dorothy goes from a place of comfort and familiarity into a place of turmoil and fear; the storm. Growth comes from time spent in the storm and the more time we can
spend there the better off we will be in the long run.
At one point Alex asked an African American member to stand and talk about what "pass" means in the AA community. I'm not sure that she understood what he was asking her to do, as she jumped into a wonderful testimony about what the church means to her, BUT... The idea he was going is that often blacks with lighter skin can, "pass" for being white. Through things like behavior, dress, language, etc they can fit into the white community more easily than those with darker skin. This is where I began to personalize the message. He also mentioned the gay man's dilemma in "passing" and segued into discussing the religious implications specific people of Jewish descent.
I pass and pass easily. I am masculine in word and action and easily get away as a straight man (unless, god forbit, a woan finds her way to my bed). For many many years this was an asset as I could hide behind my masculinity and fool those around me into celebrating my heterosexual facade. This worked for 30 or so years until I tried to buy the lie myself. I hurt someone I care deeply for by trying to convince both her and I that living the straight life was something I could do. Fortunately I called myself on by bullshit and backed away, BUT not before the damage had been done.
I am now out to my family, my rev, and a few friends who have been very accepting and supportive. As I try to build community and live true to who I am, I am surprised by my need to continue to play my pass. I play in a band with two guys who believe I am straight. The wife of one of these guys is not so convinced and has repeatedly and bluntly asked me. My silence both confirms her belief and secures my status as a liar.
It's no wonder I can't build community. How do you go about building a circle of
true friends who know and love you, when you don't tell anyone who you are? Looking back over the years I have sometimes envied those effeminate youngsters who present as homosexual from their earliest stages. Like a young bird pushed from the nest for their first flights, these folks know who they are and are forced to deal with it at the earliest stages. The community seeks them out and supports them. Now, I acknowledge the down side, it's downright dangerous to be recognized as a gay youth, but I cannot take my nest leap only to get back in the nest to hide.
My point, I guess, is that I need to throw myself back into the storm. No one can do it for me, no one can define the life I am meant to, or desire to lead. How do I do this? I come out to
everyone I consider to be a friend (well, outside of work). I spend more time in church as
myself. There is nothing to be afraid of there. And I continue to look for groups around the community to honestly connect with; anyone know of a good queer crotchet club?
We shared the raft with a family of four from Wilmington. They said they were en route to an appointment in Chapel Hill and we noticed that one of the boys (the one on the left, I think) had one of those med alert bracelets on and his mom asked asked him a few times how he was feeling etc. Cool folks, I hope whatever they were going through worked itself out. (At one point the (my)boy said to me, "I wonder if I"ve been wearing this helmet backwards this whole time." To which the boy on the right said, "umm, yeah, you have," and tried desperately to control his giggles.)
