LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
CAMPOut: Celebrate Rehoboth! |
by Fay Jacobs |
It started with a conversation about gay pride. A request had come from upstate to hold a gay pride parade here. Frankly, I don't think we need one. The way we live our lives here every single day is much more significant than a parade.
As many of us know, pride parades were born of brave individuals having the courage to come out as gay in often hostile, unsafe environments. It was the combination of the safety in numbers theory and that marvelous gay male sensibility that produced flamboyant floats, parades, and headlines. Oh yeah, those courageous dykes often did lots of the organizing, provided security, and led the way on their motorcycles. Those early parades gave millions of people the courage to face their true orientation bravely, honestly, and healthily. To this day, pride parades in conservative states and communities continue to validate and motivate people to come out and live their lives truthfully, with confidence. And big city parades are giant, well-organized, expensive celebrations in themselves. Of course, despite great progress and Will and Grace, it still takes bravery to come out in a majority of cities and towns. Across the nation, gays and lesbians still fight discrimination and fear for their families, jobs, and lives. But at least here in Rehoboth, we have come a long way, baby. For Delaware, a true pride parade would be most valuable outside of Rehoboth Beach. In a single summer weekend, here's how I saw Rehoboth celebrate gay pride. On Friday night I attended a political fundraiser at the home of two delightful and generous gay men, for a straight candidate promising not only to support anti-discrimination legislation for Delaware but to fight strenuously for it. The crowd, split evenly between gays and non-gays, mixed and mingled and pressed the candidate on quality of life issues large and small. In this candidate's campaign, equal rights for all voters is a given. Afterwards, Bonnie and I went to dinner with a straight friend who lamented that it would be much easier to meet a mate here in this area if she were of a different orientation. We all made lots of those "sorry, it's not a choice" jokes, but the basis of the conversation was serious and speaks to our wonderful gay community here. Also on Friday, Letters published answers to questions posed to the three candidates for City Commissioner. Here too, refreshingly, equality for all was an absolute given. In fact, one of the candidates answered "don't vote for me just because I am gay, but because I will..." We've come a huge way, baby, when gays can vote based on all the issues. At least in this upcoming Rehoboth election, anyway. Following the night of politics, I spent all day Saturday rehearsing for the CAMP Rehoboth Follies. If you weren't among the thousand or so people jammed into the Convention Center for this extravaganza, you should put it on your calendar NOW for next year. What a hoot! During the day (and for the preceding weeks), I had the pleasure of working with eight lesbians putting together an amateur skit for the event. Having worked with all sorts of divas in my theatrical career, I'm happy to say this was one exceptionally cooperative bunch. Of course, everybody had their own ideas and wanted to process all the directions and make sure everybody was happy, in a kind of "Women's Collective Meets Community Theatre" kind of way. Directing them was a little like herding cats. But the cast was delighted with the reception they got at Convention Hall that evening. As one of only two groups of women among the men's (mostly) drag acts, we were thrilled to take part. (For the curious: the women spoofed lesbian stereotypes and sang Nothin' Like a Dame). And the guys in the other acts, many of whom we've never met and don't see in our Rehoboth circles, seemed happy to have us there. "Oooh, you lesbians are so cool," said one youngster with washboard abs. "I need to meet me some lesbians." So we had another kind of pridepride that Rehoboth's gay men and gay women were celebrating together. Even the very straight sound technicians got right with the program, did a fabulous job of running the show, and found themselves offering their votes for best skit. And of course, the audience was very mixed, too, adding to the diversity. Two straight women friends of mine from O.C. came to the Follies, sat at my table, and hooted and hollered with the best of them. "We've never been to such an outrageous show and had so much fun in our lives!" they said, and I think they meant it. The cheers, laughs, trashy humor, and sense of community just rocked the Convention Center. At 11 p.m. when the show was over, the audience and performers (many of the boys still in high heels, high hair, and phony tits) spilled out onto Rehoboth Avenue, heading for home or around town for a nightcap. It was an impromptu gay pride parade all its own. By the next morning, when our heads cleared (oh, did I mention the cash bars at the Follies? It was all for charity, hon...) we wound up at one of our gay friendliest restaurants for brunch. As our party walked in, people at several tables recognized some of the Follies divas and commented on their performance. I was struck by the fact that most tables included both gay and straight diners, and everyone was jabbering about the Follies. Do we need a gay pride parade here in Rehoboth? I think not.Fay Jacobs can be reached at CampoutReho@aol.com. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 12, No. 11, August 9, 2002. |