LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Gay 'n Gray |
by John D. Siegfried |
Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are That was the title of a 1974 TV mystery thriller, Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are, but it could also serve as the tag line for National Coming Out Day, this year celebrated on October 11. When I was a kid coming out was what you did when one of the neighborhood boys stood on our back porch and called through the screen door, "Can Johnny come out to play." Then I grabbed my catcher's mitt or my marbles and ran with the rest of the gang to a nearby vacant field. And while those memories ignite warm fuzzy feelings of childhood, there was nothing warm or fuzzy about the growing childhood realization that somehow I was different from the other boys. I couldn't get enough of wrestling with my chums in the backyard, not because I was the least bit interested in the sport, but because I wanted to feel another boy's body pressed close to mine, and I looked forward to those summer days when we'd pitch a Boy Scout pup tent next to my friend's Victory Garden and play You show me yours and I'll show you mine. The pleasure was double when I could reach under the tent flap and pull up a carrot and chomp on it. There's nothing like garden fresh vegetables. When I reached junior high school age I wondered why the guys were making such a fuss about dating girls and going to parties and dancesactivities that didn't interest me in the least. That was also the age when I began furtively reading The New York Times Sunday Book Review where an occasional reference to Andre Gide, or Walt Whitman, and later Gunter Grass or Tennesee Williams gave me my first clue that I might not be the only deviant, as the Times called it, in this world. I was one of the myriad of children of the 30s, who grew to adolescence in the 40s, feeling different and alone and for whom coming out was a long, slow process. I was in my late-twenties before I came out to myself, and perhaps that was the most difficult coming out of all. By that time, however, I was married and had three children, at least in part as an attempt to prove to myself, "It isn't so." More closeted decades elapsed before Anita Bryant and her 1977 Save the Children crusade victory forced open my closet door. Her campaign of bigotry, which defeated the first Miami-Dade attempt at equal opportunity employment guarantees for gays and lesbians, was rancorous and followed nationally. The news of her victory came to me over WLRN while I drove to my suburban home from a business meeting in downtown Philadelphia and the emotional impact of the news forced me to pull to the side of the road as tears obscured my vision. Over and over I cried, "You can't do this to me; you can't do this to me!" But as my tears cleared, so did my vision and I realized that Bryant hadn't done anything to me. I'd done it to myself. I kept myself in a closet of my own construction and it was time for me to move out, and I did. Now in my mid-seventies, at the writers' class I recently joined in Miami (and I know some readers are wishing I'd joined the class years ago) my self-introduction to the group included the fact that I write a column called "Gay and Gray" which is published in Letters From Camp Rehoboth. I followed that with a four sentence explanation of the history and mission of Camp Rehoboth. So I guess with that as background, I'm one of those slow learners for whom coming out isn't a day. It's been a life long processand I'm grateful for all the help I've had along the way and for the millions of fellow travelers who have forced homosexuality out of the deviant column. It's regrettable that Mark Foley hasn't been one of those fellow travelers. Foley's coming out has been in the midst of scandal, self-imposed alcohol rehab and tales of alleged childhood sexual abuse. The media, in general, has done an admirable job of separating the three issues and pointing out that past sex scandals in Washington have been heterosexual as well as homosexual, Democrat as well as Republican, as have past child abuse scandals. The spill over from the combination of inappropriate sexual communication with Congressional pages, gay Congressman, alcohol rehab, all together make National Coming Out Day more important now than ever. All of us who have gone through the coming out process are aware of the risk that goes with coming outthe potential loss of family, friends, job, community respect. And for some of our colleagues the loss hasn't been potential; it's been real. Foley's dilemma only gives added impetus to support National Coming Out Dayperhaps with posters featuring a big black X covering Foley's smiling face and the tag line, "Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are." John Siegfried, a former Rehoboth resident who now lives in Ft. Lauderdale, maintains strong ties to our community and can be reached at hsajds@aol.com. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 16, No. 14 October 13, 2006 |