June is gay pride month.
I remember my first time marching in a gay pride parade. It was 1984 and I was 23 years old. It was in Anchorage, Alaska. I had just recently come out to my family, and I was finally ready to overcome my embarrassment and stand with my friends in a public setting. It was absolutely a milestone for me after years of shame.
During our march a protest group from the Anchorage Babtist Temple decided that they could not let a group of LGBTQ people come across as normal, and allow us a peaceful march.
I was personally spit on and damned to hell by a very Motherly looking woman in her 40s. A few people were actually slapped and punched. The police were called to the scene, but did nothing at all.
Instead of having the effect they had hoped for, it just cemented our will. That event more than any other started my personal quest for equal rights. About that same time period, Ronald Reagan's stance on AIDS activated my interest in politics.
While I don't really think of myself as an activist, I do believe in being out, open and taking a stand. I try to encourage others to do the same.
I also remember a night at the gay dance club " The Village", when a group of gay bashers came in to wreak havoc. That didn't work out how they had planned, as they were vastly outnumbered. I'm sure they expected a group of "nelly" little queens to cower at their feet. But what actually happened was that they were outnumbered by about 5 to 1, beaten and ran out of the club. Cops were called, but again did nothing, even though a license plate was observed and given.
Later I moved to Texas. In Texas I first lived in a town called Tyler. I moved there with two friends. In Tyler the rental properties are mostly managed by a few companies. We tried to find an apartment, and even though we all had good credit, could afford first and last months rent and so on, we kept being denied. I couldn't understand why. After about a week of trying multiple places with no luck, we happened to be at WalMart shopping. I noticed two obviously gay guys, went over and introduced myself, then told them about our plight. They told me about an untold rental policy against gay men, where 3 or more men would not be rented an apartment together. They told us that you have to act straight and apply with only one other male. I was a bit dumbfounded at that. After that we went another route and looked at renting houses from private owners. We found a place in one day.
3 years later I moved to Port Aransas, TX, to help my Mom with her storage business. In lovely Port Aransas I encountered sub contractors that would not work on site unless I left the jobsite. I actually put up with that for several years, then realizing that I was the main reason why the business was successful, I just declined to leave the jobsite. The subcontractor could either stop being a bigot and do his job with me there, or a new subcontractor could be hired. He chose to keep making money off of us, but still tried to be an intimidating prick. It didn't work.
I guess I'm spouting all of this because a recent post about parents going to gay pride with their child really got me thinking. Thinking how things have changed so much over the years, at least in California. I doubt things will change in small town Texas anytime soon.
I thought about how I had been embraced at my job for being a great carpenter, and treated as a valued co-worker by the crew and subs. I thought about how I hadn't heard the word "faggot" in 6 1/2 years. I thought about having a straight best friend that is completely unaffected by my homosexuality. I thought about the many LGBTQ people around me living their lives around other people that are almost oblivious to any difference.
Not long after moving to Texas, I was doing some remodel work for an Aunt. One day off the top of her head she just said to me, "I don't mind gay people, I just don't like it when they flaunt it in my face". I had no idea what to say to that, so I said nothing. Maybe a day or two later she said, "at least you're not one of those militant gays". At that point I popped off with a sarcastic."yeah, I hate those, they're almost as bad as militant Black people". Expecting a shocked silence from her, I was instead bombarded with a tirade of agreement, only she didn't use the term Black people. She actually though I was being serious. I re-evaluated my need for money over my need for respect, and left that day, job unfinished. I haven't spoken a word to that Aunt since.
Today I'm considering semi retirement, and evaluating where I can afford to live vs. where I want to live. I'm having a hard time imagining going back to that mindset. I would honestly rather struggle financially than mentally. Sometimes we forget how good things have gotten compared to how things had been previously. My mental health and sense of self worth, while not perfect, is better than it's ever been. I just want to recognize that. I want to thank all of you for being a part of that for me.
And I want to hear what you think about gay pride and what, if any effect it's had on you or your loved ones?