Coming Out About What It Means To Be Gay

There are several conversations I've been anticipating having with my kids. Always in terms of how I'd break all the big news stories to Olivia, since she's the oldest, I've gone over them in my head again and again. I like to be prepared, and I think it's wise to prepare them as well.

While I was pregnant with Addalie, Liv was four, so other than "there's a baby in there," she wasn't too interested in how such a thing could happen. While I was pregnant with Charlotte, however, a few more questions arose. She was aware that I had a scar from which she and her sister had been removed. But one day the camera wandered a little too close to the action on A Baby Story while she was in the room, and I had to break big news story #1: Babies "naturally/normally" Come Out of Your Vagina. As I braced myself for the expected follow up question "how did they get in there?" she ran from the room, horrified, grief-stricken, and holding her crotch. That was the end of that conversation. I'm still waiting on that one.

There are others. In no particular order: Santa. The Leprachauns who manage to sneak in, clean her room, and leave green tinsel in their wakes. God and how the world can be so askew if he supposedly makes all things perfect. War. Where we go when we die. Algebra and why I flunked it. And what it means to be gay.

Last week when she came traipsing up from the school bus singing, "I Kissed A Girl, And I Liked It," I asked where she'd heard it. Thank you neighbor-girl who has it loaded into her iPod. Well, she thought nothing of it. After all, she kisses girls everyday! Me. Her sisters. Maggie. But, catchy tune that it is, before long our whole household was humming it. Then it suddenly hit me on her 84th rendition of the chorus, she's going to sing it at school.

Now in our home, judgement and hatred isn't practiced. I realize that people tend to pass down prejudices to the next generation. I really realized that as a middle school teacher. I was astounded to see how many pre-teens are racist, homophobic, and downright extremist at such a young age. But I didn't even know my daughter's teacher is black until I met with her for the first conference of the year, despite hearing a detailed description of what she looks like from Olivia within the first week of school. I was delighted to realize my daughter doesn't think the color of a person's skin is important enough to include in a conversation. So how to approach sexuality was a challenge. I want her to be aware--I want her to be culturally intelligent as well as emotionally and intellectually. But I don't want it to matter. Does that make any sense?

So I realized that if she sang this song at school, some kid is going to laugh at her--I've seen it happen in my classroom--and taunt, "oooh, you kissed a girl?! Are you gay?!" Like it's a bad thing. At which point, she wouldn't understand why she's seemingly being made fun of.

Oh boy.

I had to go there.

"Liv? Do you know what it means to be gay?"
"No."
"Well. . ."

Yes, "it means happy" did cross my mind.

"Well. . .um. . .uhhh. . .it. . .if. . .say you. . .um. . ."

Yeah, well I haven't really practiced this one as much as Santa.

"So you know how Mommy and Daddy are together and we love eachother?"
"Yeah."
"Well, some boys love boys and some girls love girls."
No response.
"And that's actually what that song is about--a girl who kissed a girl and. . .well. . .liked it. Sooooo. . ."

Oh dear Lord, help me now.

"Sooooo. . .if you're "gay" it just means you're attracted to the same gender. And you're born that way, just like if you're attracted to the opposite gender. And at school someday, you might hear somebody say it's a bad thing. But it's not."

When I explained to her that back in the day it was illegal for black people and white people to marry, she looked puzzled. When I said that today, some very dear friends of mine and some of my family members were not able to marry the people they love, her response was, "that's CRAZY!"

So I pretty much stopped there. Because, just like anybody who passes down their beliefs to their children, I want my kids to believe in HUMAN rights. Not just the rights of humans who happen to be like them. I'm pretty sure this world isn't going to work well until we all feel that way.

One down. Countless to go.

Thankful(,) for 2009 (is gone)

Happy New Year!

Post-Festival of Greed

MaggieRuby's Christmas Present

Matchy-matchy (note Addalie's Reefs. Kid lives in flip-flops).

Sisters

Santa came through on the guitar for Liv (and G-Mur came through on the guitar for Mama--more on that later).

Uncle Chris, Aunt Marissa, Olivia, and Addalie playing with the loot.

My big gift

Pretty girl! Charlotte; growing.

The holidays are over. I took a breath--the Waiting To Exhale kind--the second that ball hit the roof in Times Square, and knew immediately that I was on a sort of a vacation. That's what it feels like when you love your work, so I hear. This is the Year of the Family, and now that things have calmed down, I'm thrilled to get started at my new job: full-time mom of three. Sounds simple compared to my last positions: miscarrying, pregnant-again, hemorrhaging, bedresting, hospitalized, in-NICU-living, paranoid, sleep-deprived, tear-streaked, and near-breakdown-having, and other things that can't be told in a public forum, teacher.

Mom, complicated though it can get, sounds easy right about now.

Hello 2010. I barely know you, but I love you.