Ask A Gay Family

I posted about these guys a while back. And since then they've started a new series called Ask a Gay Family.

If the regular Gay Family Values videos were excellent in representing the qualities of gay families and the inherent lack of honesty in the arguments of the anti-gay-marriage folks, this series promises to bring more positive attention to the truth about gay families. Jay, Bryan, Daniel, and Selena are not only a positive loving family but also a set of role models and an excellent example of what a family should be, gay or otherwise.

The Reception

Alright, I've got a few spare moments to write about our reception while the husband and the boy are out grocery shopping:

We had it at Cafe Sitges right after the ceremony. It was absolutely amazing. The guys really outdid

themselves. It was exactly what we wanted: something simple, casual,

and friendly. The food was excellent, especially the marinated quail eggs. The layout was perfect for the number of people there. The decorations were lovely. I couldn't have been happier with the way the whole thing turned out.

I do

wish James and Andrew, the guys who run the cafe hadn't been quite so busy so they could hang out as well. But I can't compliment them enough on the way they hosted the event.

They were even able to bring in

the tunos we had heard play there before. So the music was excellent.

I can't remember everyone who stopped by (some were the husband's friends I didn't know and I think at least one was a crasher). But let me hit a few highlights (read here people who traveled to attend): Chuck I've already mentioned. He was the husband's former partner and long time close friend. He came in from Los Angeles. Like at the ceremony, he took video, which I may be able to post on Youtube later.

Michael, one of our earliest and dearest friends in Sitges came in from France where he's been working lately. Andrew, another early Sitgean friend arrived from the UK for a few days. John, one of the sweetest and best people we made friends with in Sitges, and without whom Sitges has been much less t

olerable also came in from the UK.

And lest I forget to mention her, Irene our first, good friend we met in Spain, came in from Cerdanyola. She was an absolute delight and really made the event special as did all of the great people who showed up.

I had two major fears about the reception going in: that people who don't really like us would come and be obnoxious, and that the open bar would entice some people to behave in an unpleasant manner. Both of these fears were totally unfounded. The day was so hot people mostly stuck to cava. An

d the few people I was unsure about coming didn't show up. Everyone was lovely, and I hope they all had a great time. I certainly did.

Gay Marriage

As you know I got gay-married a couple weeks ago. Since then I've been on my honeymoon and the boy has been with us (more about that later). So I haven't had much time to actually blog.

The ceremony itself was simple, just like we wanted it to be. Actually, our intention was to have the ceremony just us and family. Of my family (a cast of thousands) only my son was able to come. My daughter decided she wanted to "stay home and be bored" this summer instead of spending it with me. I was admittedly a little hurt by her declaration. But I understand. She's 11, and right now the whole gay dad t

hing is a bit weird for her. And she's pretty much a major home body, (like her father) she'd be more than happy to pass the time holed up in her room reading rather than... well... just about anything. That and I believe she's still worried about her mother because of her earlier health issues. The rest of the family, as great as they have been, either aren't comfortable enough

with the whole gay thing or simply can't afford to travel right now.

Of the partner's family one brother was supposed to have attended. He was supposed to be our witness. He came. He fought with the partner. He declared his disapproval of our marriage (despite being [I can't say he's gay because I wouldn't want to share his personal business] himself ). He mooched room and board off of the partner for a couple more days. He left before the wedding. The partner's other brother couldn't make it because of family responsibilities. His parents frankly weren't told. His father is an anglican minister and has fought homosexuality his whole life (don't you just love the irony of a man with such hateful opinions having two non-heterosexual sons?).

So the wedding party included the partner and

me; my son; Chuck, the partner's former partner and long-time close friend; our gestor, a legal representative; and the judge. Chuck took video, and the boy took photos.

We wore white, but not suits. The judge passed his written speech to the gestor, who translated. He informed us of the laws, and then delivered our vows.

We exchanged rings. And then he pronounced us married.

I know I keep harping on this, but I just think that what happened next was truly spectacular. A couple of signatures were required and then the judge gave us our libro de familia, our family book. (It even has space to list ch

ildren produced by our marriage should such a miracle happen.) This is our official and legal marriage document. This is the exact same document that all married couples in Spain receive, regardless of their gender or sexual orientation.

Spain is probably one of the most fervently and rigidly Catholic countries in the world. But the Spanish are not going to let their own personal beliefs interfere with the basic civil rights of others. They do what's right despite what they've been taught by religious leaders.

The only issue was that we had written the wrong time down and showed up thirty minutes late thinking we were thirty minutes early. But that didn't cause any problems. The ceremony was thankfully short and sweet. From there we headed out to the reception.

Gay Family Values

Have you seen the videos by these guys yet?

They're a married gay couple in California with two kids. I picked the particular video I posted because they're reading a book I used to read to my kids all the time (they're a little old for it these days). If you have a YouTube account you should subscribe to these guys. Their videos are just great. The more people who see their example of a "normal" family who just happen to be gay the better. 

My Dramily - Part V - The Party

Maybe this should have been my first post. Lead with the positives, and all that. 

The whole reason for going to Georgia this past week, as I've said, was for a celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. My sisters, no. 1 and no. 2 have been working hard for the past several months to make everything perfect. Sister no. 6 and I have done quite a bit too, just not so much. We functioned more as grunts than anything else. 

My biggest job was to create a slide show of pictures from over the past 5+ decades. If you're extraordinarily bored you can see the silent beta version on YouTube. I think the final version turned out pretty well. At least I got positive feedback. No. 1 was in charge of the cake, invitations, and decorations. The room was gorgeous. As was the cake (a slight lean aside). No 2. (an extreme foodie and inveterate drama queen) did the rest of the food. She was prepared for about a small bazillion people. And all the copious food was delicious, even if we weren't able to eat half of it. Sister no. 6 helped everything run like clockwork (even if she and I preferred to stay mostly in the background). Our brother, no. 3 came as a guest rather than helping or even paying his share of the costs (He has some kind of juvenile sibling rivalry thing going on).

Quite a few people showed up. So many that the building's air conditioning was strained to battle the Georgia heat. We held the event at the church where my parents were married, in the same "fellowship hall" where they had their wedding reception. 

It was a little bit like being haunted by the ghosts of my childhood. Most of the people there knew me by my childhood nickname, so I ended up responding to anything people called me, including my brother's name. Many of the attendees looked vaguely familiar, older versions of people I used to know well. I had to fight the defensive mode some of those familiar faces put me in. I don't know how much those people know about me these days, so I found myself playing the pronoun and dodge the question with vagueness games. "Oh yes, I do live in Spain... I just... love it there." 

A few rare exemptions included my siblings and in-laws. I knew they knew I was gay, so I could be myself. It was nice hanging out with no. 2's husband. He's a nice, fairly open minded guy (and a hell of a better person than her ex). We spent a good bit of time in the kitchen getting food ready, bantering with innuendos that often left visitors to the kitchen bewildered. "How do you take your fruit?" "I usually give him a back massage first."

Also there was a minister who has performed the weddings of several members of my family and now presides over a church in Atlanta where many LGBT folks worship. He has talked to my mom about me. He pulled me aside at one point and we talked about how great my parents have been. It's easy to forget in all that closeted hell I went through when I was younger that when I did finally come out, my parents were spectacular. They're pretty much rural southerners with some backwards ideas about things like race, gender, and sexuality. It's just how they were raised. But when I came out, they decided to be supportive rather than losing me. Frankly I was amazed at the time. As I told the preacher, I fully expected to never see my family again. But instead they were accepting and told the rest of the family that if they couldn't be nice, they were welcome to stay away. I don't know if my parents know how much that meant to me. I truly feel lucky for that. 

Anyway, I think the whole thing went off very well. As I think I've said before, I've never seen my somewhat antisocial father talk to so many people. And my mom was her eternal social butterfly self and seemed to enjoy the attention. I hope they enjoyed it. 

Uncomfortable

I recently spent a couple months in the US visiting the kids and the rest of my family in Kentucky. Originally my trip was related to spending some time with the kids during their Spring break. But due to unforeseen circumstances I ended up staying for much longer. My mother, god bless her, saw this as an opportunity for me to drive down to visit them in Georgia. 

To be honest, I'm not all that crazy about the idea of driving down to Georgia. Since I don't drive anymore traffic makes me very nervous, especially with the kids in the car. And then you have the whole big wet cotton ball of discomfort that is spending time with the conservatives. 

Admittedly, most of my family is fairly liberal. They're by and large the modern evolution of the good ol' civil rights-fighting southern Democrats. Long before I came out I spent many Sunday afternoons arguing the finer points of why a white person can't say the N word even if "they say it about themselves all the time."

Of course now that they know I'm queer, they really do try. I have to take the little wins and try my best for the sake of peace to let that be enough. I have to remind myself it's a good thing when they tell me my "choice" to be gay doesn't mean they love me any less. But hey, I've said it before, I had 27 years to get used to the idea before I told them. They need time. 

I can survive around my family just fine for the most part. I know when I can make fag jokes to keep them comfortable. I know when to bite my tongue. And I know when to stand my little piece of ground. The difficulty comes when I interact with people who don't have to (at least pretend to) love me. 

My kids were invited to an Easter egg hunt at the home of one of my mother's oldest and dearest friends. Being out to one's very southern mother means you are out to everyone she knows including all ministers, friends, hairdressers, and guys in the grocery store line in front of her who're buying a copy of the Advocate. So I knew my mother's friend knew I'm gay. I wasn't sure if the other people at the egg hunt knew. 

The group included my mother's friend's daughters and their children, a middle-aged neighbor and her granddaughter, someone's elderly grandmother, my sister and her son, and me and my two monsters. Preparations were made for the kids to decorate eggs and the adults stood around making specious compliments to their artwork and small talk. Small talk in the southern US almost always includes everyone's health and what they're doing, the weather, and church. Discussion of the new minister at my parent's church (specifically the fact that she's female and by extension inept) let me know this was an excellent opportunity to keep my mouth shut. 

Eventually conversation alighted on my personal history and what I'd been up to in the years since I last saw most of the people there. One of the daughters turned to me and asked, "So, what in the world brought you to Spain?" 

A direct question requires a direct answer, right? I looked at the expectant faces of the elderly and the impressionable. The older ladies wouldn't really want to hear about my partner and his globe-trotting job. The mothers might not be too keen on me exposing my "lifestyle choices" to their children. So I gave the best answer I could come up with at the spur of the moment. "An airplane." I smiled my most becoming please-drop-the-subject smile and endured the giggles. 

"Yes, I know but why Spain? What are you doing there?"

I wasn't going to get out of this one easily. I was only trying to avoid a potentially uncomfortable revelation. I was only trying to preserve their false memories of the sweet shy little boy they once knew. I was only trying to hold the tattered remnants of the closet door over myself for the sake of their social comfort. Sure I would like to be out and in everyone's faces about it, but sometimes it's just easier to leave people in their closed-minded cocoons. 

"I'm writing, blogging and fiction, short stories mostly. It worked for George Orwell." Another not-so-clever dodge. But, thank their misogynistic racist god, it worked. 

She pointed at her teenage son who'd been bored with everything, shuffling his sneakers through the whole scene waiting for the first opportunity to get back to his Facebook chats and PlayStation games. "Oh, he's been reading Orwell, haven't you?"

I was off the hook. No old minds were cracked open with my sinful ways. No children's futures were shattered with the knowledge that homosexuality exists. I was, however, left with the feeling I owed her a real explanation. She was, after all, something of a childhood acquaintance. Both of the daughters had been too old to play with me when we were kids, so we had never been really close. But I don't like the implied dishonesty of my question dodging. 

Alas, the opportunity never presented itself. We hid and then helped the kids find eggs. We ate pizza. And then her boys were ready to be somewhere else. 

As we were leaving the hostess pulled me aside to thank me for coming. 

"Thank you for having us." I hadn't completely forgotten my manners.

"I'm glad you came. I didn't know if you'd be, um, uncomfortable." I suppose a sweet attempt at an allusion to my newly known sexuality.

"It was great to see you all again. The kids had a great time." 

I don't know exactly what my mother has told her. I don't know what she thinks of homosexuality. But I can guess given the conglomerate of conservative social opinions among my family and their associates. I certainly didn't want to "throw my queerness in their faces." I was more concerned about their comfort than my own. Maybe she and her daughters were just as worried about being invaded by my unfamiliar world as I was about returning to theirs. But hopefully if there's any bit of light to be found in this muddy mess it's that they got to see an example of a normal gay man. A loving father. A person who hasn't forgotten the politeness of his upbringing. Someone who is still who he was before they knew his sexuality.