09.04.09
words…
As I type this, I marvel, in a small way, at technology, that I work with every day – since I am sitting in my car, under a full moon, by the glow of my laptop – using my silly little Sprint mobile broadband to connect. We may not be in a world of flying cars – yet – but things like this, well, I know even my parents don’t understand much of it for they grew up in a different time…
I was thinking about that today, as I drove all over much of Illinois, about my parents, and the lives they have led. They have been married just over 60 years and grew up in a time I can’t even begin to understand. They lived through the great depression, and a world war that almost destroyed us. And yet I remember the day my father and mother and I all watched as we landed on the moon. We lived in Hawaii then, and I will never forget riding along side the quarantine vehicle on my bike, when the astronauts returned..
My mother once shared with me a small part of her childhood – when words did not hurt or kill the way they do now. I mean today, if you are hanging out with friends and are joking around, you might call them an idiot, moron, jerk and so many other things – all in jest, of a friend – but trying to get your point across. Well, my mother once told me of how the “n” word was the same way. She and her friends, – black, white, brown and all other colors, would play, and just in jest, call each other names like that, or “white trash” and other things.. Sure, some people may not think “white trash” is neither as bad as the “n” word, but you did not grow up in the 1930s playing in the playground wondering how you would get through the next day. (think about what it was like being a child in the great depression?)
I can’t even begin to understand what my parents went through. Depression, war after war, bigotry, riots, and racism that makes today look like a cocktail party.. I even remember, long before I came out to my family, how my father used to make “gay” jokes, limp wristed and all, not knowing who his child would turn out to be.
I was in the Bay Area when Harvey Milk was killed – I was just 17 and really had not come to grips with anything yet and still did not understand who he was. Heck, at 16, 17 and 18, at least back then, all you wanted to do was go out, party and have fun – oh yeah, same as today. But seriously, I just did not understand it all.
I guess I never thought I would turn into my mother – saying things like “when I was younger…” and other such silliness, and yet, I have. I look back, thinking about the “zack morris” cell phones that I used when I was working in the fledgling computer industry, or the Arpanet – long before the Internet – and computer screens that were round – I remember it all.. I miss it, and yet it reminds me of the time I was riding down the street in Walnut Creek – just outside of San Francisco – cruising like we used to do, with one of my best friends who was black sitting next to me – and some jackass in the car next to us made some racist remark and I yelled back. My friend grabbed me and said, “Are you trying to get us killed!?”
I think back now and those same times of the racist people then and those who judge the gay community now. There is no difference. They are ignorant and foolish. And yet at the same time, I think of how my mother was raised and they did not even understand what all that was – since her friend were black or white or brown – they didn’t care, and the words they used, just like so many words used by children, t hey really did not even understand them. They were not words of hatred or anger, but of silliness that children speak of to each other. Words never spoken in anger or hatred, but in games that most of the time were forgotten a few hours later.
I was yelled at today – a word that compares to the “N” word – but they just added “lesbian” in front of the “C” word. It was supposed to make me angry or hurt me in some way. And on the same day I received an email from NOM about the fact that they have placed “marriage” on the ballet in Vermont. (or Maine – I deleted it now…) All I could think of was the hatred that filled the hearts and souls of these people. The ones who called me names and the ones who say I have no right to marry (or live in some cases). I wonder if they understand truly, the hatred and bigotry they attempt to spread? And yet, just as my mother and father, I sit here and think, “they have nothing but words – words that they believe hurt – not true weapons – unless I give them power over me, and I don’t.”
The words they spew – the hatred, the judgment, and beyond, I give no power to. I guess sometimes I just think they don’t understand. They are not better than me – or worse. They are not right or wrong, they are simply mistaken and confused. Someday they will realize that. And at the same time they might even realize that judging me for simply being me – is wrong.
I don’t hate them. I can’t – my parents raised me not to hate. Sure, I pity them. I pity them for not even trying to understand someone different from themselves. But at the same time, I am tired. I am tired of being judged and being called names. I am tired of people wanting to “cure” me. I am tired of reading about another member of the LGBT community being found dead some place in this country. I am tired of the ignorance and those who still cling to the “gay panic defense” as their excuse – that they were afraid they might be hit on by the gay person they murdered.
Someday – perhaps even in my lifetime, people will stop hating and judging others. Maybe we can go back to my parents childhood when words were just words and did not evoke anger, hatred, wars and worse.
I will close this, as I continue to sit under this beautiful moon, the top down and I count my blessings, but at the same time, I am crying – for all the anger, hatred, bigotry and violence in this world.. Maybe I have turned into my mother who says to me, “It is not my fight anymore, I just don’t have it left in me – it has to be yours..” Maybe, it is time for others to stand up, because honestly, I have other things I need to fight, the least of which is my health…
peace, love and light
Namaste
Kat