It’s sunny on the south coast and though the wind is here, and it is here to stay, people are wearing shorts and walking around in a kind of spring euphoria. I’ve been actually finding it a little hard to say goodbye to winter—there was something about all that darkness, wet and cold this year that felt like permission to rest, to write, to read, and to nest—very much a timeless vampire vibe. But now the sun is here, and I’m definitely not complaining. The fangs will grow back in November.
In Curry County where I live, schools have essentially banned teachers and students from using the word “gay” within educational buildings and classrooms. Definitely disturbing in general, but this week I witnessed the effects of this in person. My partner’s six year old blurted out enthusiastically that Trump was our president. My partner was quick to explain to him that he wasn’t someone to be excited about, that he hurts people. When he asked how, she said, “Well, he doesn’t care about people like me…because I’m gay.” (Not the most accurate word for how either of us identify but it will have to do for now. And all the other horrors of this administration will be saved for another time too.)
His response to this explanation was to press his eyes closed and put his hands over his ears and make a kind of crying/groaning sound that definitely conveyed that the school’s plan (?) to make this word upsetting and terrifying was working. That his father is a QAnon, Trump supporter doesn’t help and he said early on that he was worried my use of they/them pronouns was confusing to their child. This kid is not confused, and has been one of the first people in this town of 1,000 to get pronouns right most consistently. And that’s still true. (As usual, the kids are alright.) In a truly spectacular moment on a Facetime call with him when he was in the South visiting with his father’s side of the family, he happily introduced me with proper pronouns to his right-wing grandpa. Nice!
Over the next few days after the terrible first reaction to the word, my partner brought up the idea with him a few different times and ways, and it was clear he was starting to be more open and understand the nuance, maybe even the unnecessary contradiction of loving his mom (and me) and associating that with a kind of “gayness.”
I’m not worried about this particular smart, beautiful and sensitive child, because he has us, but it did make me think of all the children growing up, not even in bigoted homes, but being raised by straight people who also are not actively talking about other ways of being and loving. Maybe out of convenience and maybe out of fear or maybe out of a sense of irrelevance to their lives. I’m not sure, but I’m hoping there isn’t a whole new generation of young people in rural Oregon who think that word, and its meaning, are bad, scary, and wrong. For better or for worse, at least there’s the internet now.
To be fair, when I worked at a preschool in San Francisco, I had a four year old student who only referred to one of her moms as her “lawyer.” Never really got to the bottom of that, and mostly it was hilarious, as in, “My lawyer is picking me up from school today.” (Nicely gender-neutral I might add.) Regardless of what was going on there, no one had a problem using the word “gay” and using it often, in school, at home, everywhere. It was absolutely as normal of a way to be than any other way to be.
San Francisco feels like a million miles and a lifetime away, and I’m very fine with that, but here in the most conservative place I’ve ever lived (and also perhaps the most gorgeous) I’m hopeful that in spite of what is happening politically, in our schools, and in our diverse families and homes, love will find a way to prevail, not in spite of but because of everything happening right now.
Charlie J. Stephens 