Moral Education

It was a long day today at work.

While I've been navigating the crevasses of graduate work applications, I've also been using my two degrees to make money. As a substitute teacher for the Regina Public School Board.

And there I was today, during homeroom, directing class. And my ears hear something that I haven't heard since I was a student.

"Yeah, he's gay."

It was from the back corner. I can still remember the face of the young woman that made the comment.

I can still recall that instant when I felt as though shutting down was the only response that was valid. These people knew. They were judging me for it. There was nothing I could do about it anymore.

And then I did the worst thing possible.

I let the comment slide. And now, I know that, for anybody that she encounters who is gay, around whom she tosses around the word with a sneer and a knowing gracefulness of cool, that i have contributed to the fear that they feel.

And, on my drive home, I couldn't decide if I should've pounced on her. As a young First Nations (Metis?) woman, god knows I had the ammo - I am incredibly capable of whipping up hatred in an instant.

Why didn't I?

Was it because I don't believe in humiliating students (no, thats definitely not the reason), or was it because I refuse to use race as a trump card (i'd love to pretend so, but the fact that I could whip up hatred for this woman in an instant because of her skin colour tells me otherwise), or was it because I knew that, in the moment that I defended homosexuals from hatred, I was outting myself to these students?

I could've incited foolishness, dumbness, ignorance, She could've retaliated with the same in some way, I couldn't asked her how she feels when she heard commentary about First Nations women being prone to drinking when they were pregnant or men sexually abusing their daughters in a drunken rage, and I could've answered with fear and hatred and remorse and shame at her identity for things that she could not control, and she could've gotten angry and disgraced, and I could've told her that she had no right to inflict those feelings upon anybody else and nobody has the right to inflict those feelings upon her, and She could've agreed, and I could've said that I would expect somebody who has been the victim of cultural hatred in the past to fight against it in all of its manifestations (just to let her know that I was thoroughly disappointed in her character), and She could've gone home and told her parents and the Parents could've contacted my boss and told her about the scenario, and I could lose my position, because God knows that my "teaching practices" were questionable I was thoroughly out of line and it isn't the right of a teacher to treat minority students in any way to calls attention to their minority-ness, and I would not be able to respond because this woman would have the same power as I would have over my temporary student in my class, and once again I am faced with morality in ways that are complicated.

It was probably the last reason.

And so I was silent. And let the tacit hatred of homosexuals survive for another day.

I came to the realization yesterday that I don't allow my parents to love me.

I know that this must kill them. I wish that they could understand why. I wish that I could understand why.

Because I think that allowing somebody to love you is a beautiful thing.

Glee deals with impressive content. It did so again this week.

Perhaps though its surprisingly substantial stories are lost in the bubblegum pop (and for the record, any show that can make a Katy Perry song sound incredibly sexy deserves a field of Emmys). But they are there, and for anybody who can relate to Kurt Hummel, there are shockingly familiar.



This past week dealt with romance - and that sense that romance doesn't exist for those who are anything other than straight. How painfully familiar. It also highlighted how useless allies are, because they are not gay. They can stand up to hatred, but they can never make a gay man feel normal - feel as though they belong with the rest of society - as though every thought that they have is just as valid as the thoughts that one's friends has.

And then Kurt Hummel meets Blaine. Suddenly he has an ally who, like him, knows the pain of everything. And everything is painful when you are gay, coming out of the closet, and incredibly lonely and isolated.

Last night I went out with a bunch of friends, all of them straight. Some of my best friends. And I felt isolated (despite them knowing that I am gay). At one point the thought crossed my mind that they were "holding me back from being me". How selfish of me, but is this possibly true...?

A friend who is gay is totally different than a friend who is straight...

Also, I hate the term "no homo." But, just like "that's so gay", one can always say "no hetero". I think....

Nothing quite like that.

One thing I'm learning regularly nowadays.

Never ever stop letting people love you. Tell them you are gay, be fearless in it, and allow them to love you as they always have and with a newfound pride.

Because they will.

Let them be your ally.

Because they will be.

----

I am very fortunate to have the friends that I have. They are all remarkable people.

Today I told a youngin' (18 year old) that I am gay. "And thats how that goes."

He wasn't surprised - said he'd thought it for a while. It didn't matter to him, didn't change our relationship.

As long as I didn't try to grope him (he's a football player, groping him would likely result in a concussion).

I mentioned my two rules: Straight men are "no". 18 year olds are "no". (He's not married yet, so he doesn't need to know about the last one)

I'm his mentor. From Bible Camp.

.... there is nothing like being gay to make you realize how much pride you have... and how regularly you undersell the ability of people to love...