“David, are you gay?” Another classmate asked me that question once when I was in the sixth grade. I had no idea how to answer that question. Well, I take that back. I did. I drew on my knowledge that the word “gay” was used in the theme song for The Flintstones. After all, they had a “gay ol’ time” every time that show was on.
I promptly answered, “yep.”
I had no idea what I had just done to my social life at that moment. To be honest, I still don’t know what I did to my social life. My only indicator is that from that point on, I was met with a lot of suspicion, didn’t have a lot of friends, and was called a faggot on a number of occasions.
Funny thing, too; I didn’t know what that meant either. Go figure. Innocence was a wonderful thing to me at that age. Alas, I was pretty sheltered so I didn’t really have an understanding what the kids at school were saying. Maybe that was a good thing.
So yes, the definition of ‘gay’ is dependent solely on the paradigm of the individual. To one person, it’s happy and cheerful. To someone else, it’s homosexual. To another, it’s watching The Wizard of Oz way too much. To yet another, it’s a drag fiesta.
Yet even in the LGBTQ community, ‘gay’ is just another word that’s tossed about. Some like it; others loathe it. Some say it it, others hate it. We all remember the moment when we finally said to a mirror, “I’m gay.” But what does identifying as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, questioning, or whatever else is out there, mean?
Before I came to terms with my sexuality, I thought that gay men had to be hot, oversexed, underweight, and built like a brick. I thought they had to look a certain way, dress a certain way, and act a certain way. They had to dance half-naked in gay pride parades or wear buttless leather chaps and use words like “girlfriend” or “biatch.” After all, that’s what “gay” meant.
When I finally realized that being gay means none of those things and that it simply means that I’m sexually, emotionally, and physically attracted to those of the same sex, it was an epiphany. I realized that I can be not-so-hot, overweight, and built like a sponge. Okay, about the sex, I don’t kiss and tell. But it’s nice to know that I can be content.
“Gay” is such a wonderful word that we can use it in any context. It’s simple enough that parents can even whisk it away when in an uncomfortable situations.
My sister, Beth, had her 29th birthday party recently. A number of family members and several of her friends were there. As it was close to Christmas, Curtis and I drove to Memphis to join in on the celebrations.
My stepsister and her eight-year-old daughter were there. At some point, Beth mentioned that she was so excited that she had eight gay people at her party. My cute-as-a-button step niece was perplexed. She asked, “Mommy, why are only eight people happy?”
“Oh, everyone is happy, dear,” her mom replied. “It’s just that they’re especially happy!”
Gay is happy. Gay is gay. It’s so gay. It’s supposed to be a bad thing to be gay. But it really isn’t. It’s just gay. So what do we do when we’re told that gay is bad? We’re still in a time where gay revelations about politicians are usually the kiss of death (especially when their political actions are anti-gay).—well, unless it’s Barney Frank.
The biggest problem that remains is the stigma and the label that’s associated with “gay.” I’m hard-pressed to find any story or book that doesn’t obsess over the sexual aspect of gay relationships. And it’s a little unfortunate that so many of our gay short stories are little more than a shallow story wrapped around a steamy sex scene.
But is there more to life as a gay man? Now, I’m certainly no prude when it comes to sex. But even with that in mind, I’ve read how our fundamentalist neighbors are convinced that we’re obsessed with sex and it shows by all of the ads that have college-aged boys in various stages of undress and provocative poses. Would I be out of line if I said that maybe they have a point?
After all, if we took the sexy guys and women out of all of the ads that run even in Freedom Press, what would be left? Would anything even attract our attention, much less sell?
After a bit of thought, I have to say, “Yes, it would.” Sure, we’ve all see the dancing guys and bar maids. But there are a huge number of us who say, “You know, that’s just not for me.” With that in mind, I’m delighted to say that the word “gay” is as diverse as it is misunderstood. I’m gay. My step-niece knows I’m happy, and my classmates know that I am attracted to men. My mom knows I’m a friend of Dorothy, and my friends know I’m just plain nuts.
And I look horrible in lipstick. Thank goodness. I can still have a gay ol’ time and be extra happy.
- David W. Shelton
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Hello. Just stumbled across your blog and really liked it. A very interesting perspective, and congratulations on the Advocate piece.
It’s always refreshing to find proud Christian gays… so many pseudoChristians do so much to alienate you and run you off, and it’s good to know that they’re not always successful. Kudos for seeing beyond the hypocracy of the judgemental “religious” right and holding your ground.
Raddy,
I think I am going to cry now. I am so proud of you for many reasons, and I am proud to be called your friend. You give me something refreshing and that is knowing, that all these Ah***s arent worth a pot to pee in, when it comes to their bigotry. I love ya hon. SMOOCHES!!!!
Not so hot and built like a sponge?
I think not. Was disappointed you didn’t have backless chaps, would like to try them on. What a sight that would be. Yucko! Good post Rad, didn’t realize they started asking qauetions as early as six years old. Good Grief! Well, look at you…not only did you survive, but you rose above it to become a very talented young man and also a Christian. Proud to be your friend. BiddyKelly
Beautiful writing! As always!
Michael Rowe
I’ll say ‘ditto’ to what Michael said!
I can recall the first few months after my brother ‘came out of the closet’… well, actually, he burst out, in his freshman year, with a ‘screw the world, this is who I am’ attitude. That attitude was short lived. He had tried, for most of his young life, to do things that were reflective of our social perception of ‘manly’… mainly sports. He had spent so many years wearing a costume that wasn’t true to who he was. The first person he talked to for advise was me, his big brother, who promptly said ‘ya know, Bookie, I kind figured it out when you were little and you always wanted us to watch your fashion shows.’ (I should add, my little brother pursued his passion for colors and design and is now a very successful interior designer.)
My brother endured endless taunting. Words like fag, flamer, queen, queer, buttmonkey, etc. were commonplace sounds in the school halls. Where he was once respected for his ‘manly’ sports skills (the little guy has reflexes and a quickness that most of us would give our right arms for!), he was now the object of constant humiliation. Bookie endured it all, but he was alone in his personal search for who he was. None of us could help him, as we didn’t know any more about it than he did. We decided (all five brothers and three sisters!) that the best thing we could do was beat the living hell out of anyone who pestered our bro, and consequently, my own senior high school year memories are mostly of detentions.
Bookie is now 43 years old. He is still outgoing. He is still quick. He is still gay. He always will be, of course. But, more than anything, he is still loved. In front of clients, he is a sharp professional, with a slight tell-tale lilt to his voice. With family, he is his true self… very effeminate, very passionate, and very much the Bookie we love. I can recall Bookie flying out to CA for the birth of my daughter. He was ecstatic and spent hours cuddling my baby girl and telling her all about the wonderful things in the world! Of course, most of my circle of friends at that time had never met him. I remember one well-meaning friend pulling me aside, pointing to him holding my kid, and in a hushed, almost scandalized voice whispering, ‘Thane, your brother is a flamer!’. What could I say? Bookie does fit that description! He has a heart of pure gold, and when he loves on someone, his voice reflects it (ya know what I’m talking about!) My response was simple. I said, ‘Look at Morgan grinning at her Uncle. That’s gotta be love at first sight.’ I’m not saying that my brother can do not wrong… there have been plenty of times where I’ve gotten frustrated at his attitude about something and told him to knock it off (ie ‘Bookie, stop being such a bitch and let Mam keep her damn wallpaper!’)
Uncle Bookie is the outspoken and exuberant ‘Auntie Mame’ of our family. My daughter adores him. She is going on 9 years old, and no one in the family has hidden Bookie’s orientation. My parents, who had a hard time understanding him at first, no longer dwell on his homosexuality as being a shameful thing. Every Christmas, he comes out and takes all his nieces and nephews on a shopping trip for their holiday outfits. He gathers them all in my parents’ kitchen on Christmas Eve, and then, has each child come into the living room to show off their snazzy stuff… the Bookie Fashion Parade lives on!
Everything boils down to language a great amount of the time. What bothers me is the whole “that’s so gay” for something stupid or not liked, but language changes and it’ll change again. Nonetheless everything is defined by common language and cohesive definition always emerges whether we like it or not. Good blog.
Your friend,
Myron
David:
I have never heard truer words in all my life. That was great. I know that my daughter’s and their friends say for instance someone is wearing a shirt that does not go good with the pants they are wearing or something silly like that they say,”Oh look at their shirt,,,THAT IS SO GAY.” I ask my girls, “When you hear the word GAY in your circle of friends or people your age 20-22::what do you think it means. They both said the same thing-”Mom GAY doesn’t mean happy or homosexual anymore,it means you have horrible fashion sense.” I thought I would die with laughter!!!!
~HUGS~
CINDY “NC”