The Catharsis of "Love, Simon"

Nick Robinson as movie protagonist Simon Spier

After cleaning up following Easter dinner with one of my daughters and her family, the husband and I and a couple of friends went to see the movie "Love, Simon," a movie which some would describe as a coming of age movie.  The main difference is that the protagonist, Simon, is gay.  By coincidence, a friend who has a long history of national level LGBT activism also happened to go to the same showing of the movie.  Collectively, we loved the movie which is a combination of being hysterically funny in places and heavy on drama in others, especially for those of us who grew up as closeted LGBT youth always terrified that someone would discover our closely held secret - something that plagues Simon through much of the movie.  The good news is that the movie has a nice ending even though it left us wishing our teen years could have been different.  Indeed, my activist friend remarked that had we had a movie like Love, Simon during our own teen years, perhaps our lives would have been filled with less self-hate and anxiety.  My advice to both gays and straights is to see the movie, straights in particular who might get some much needed understanding of the trials of growing up gay in America.  A piece in The Advocate looks at the movie and touches on some of the reflections I experienced.   Here are highlights:

I walked out of Love, Simon a ball of emotions. I was happy, delighting in what was an unabashedly romantic story with a young gay protagonist. I was melancholy, mourning an adolescence I never had. I was both jealous and grateful, envying a generation of young queer people who had Simon’s story to celebrate, but at the same time relieved that they might not struggle as I had.

And I was proud and validated, because while Love, Simon was not my story, parts of my story were reflected in Simon’s journey.

It has been a couple of weeks since I watched the film and I have had time to process it. Seemingly, it is not a film that warrants processing. It adheres to the conventions of a well-worn genre. It is intended for the not-particularly discerning mainstream. But I nevertheless found it deeply affecting and have needed time to come to terms with why.

Growing up in the '90s in a conservative Catholic family in a conservative town in Australia’s most conservative state presented challenges for a young lad like me. You see, I wasn’t like the other boys; worryingly, it seemed I actually liked the other boys. And as time went on, I began to fear that this wasn’t a phase; that maybe I was stuck with this affliction, this "moral evil" and "objective disorder" that the Catholic Catechism on our bookshelf decried. Perhaps I was gay. A more terrifying prospect I could not have imagined. Unhelpfully, I had no one with whom I could talk about it. . . . . And I desperately needed to talk to a sinner.

The need for role models is a decidedly human trait and the search for them a decidedly human endeavor. As I was completely bereft of role models in my personal life, I did what many a young person does – I looked for them elsewhere, primarily in other people’s stories and usually in film.

However, the 1990s are not renowned for their sympathetic portrayal of queer characters or stories. And the few queer-themed movies that did make their way to Australia ranged from powerful but pretty grim dramas like Philadelphia and The Crying Game to farces like The Birdcage and comedies like The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Germane to the majority of this mainstream queer fare was a sense of tragedy and doom. And the take-home message for this impressionable young guy? Gay equals either a long life of quiet desperation or a short life peppered with hostility and rejection and liberal doses of ABBA.  Teen-oriented films weren’t much better.

Which brings me back to Love, Simon. Here for the first time is a major studio film that features as its protagonist a young gay man coming to terms with his sexuality and finding his place in the world. And there is the promise of a happily ever after for him.

What would the 16-year-old me have made of this film? How would I have reacted to seeing a teenager trying to work his way out of the closet? And the coming-out scenes with his family – would they have inspired me to take those first tentative steps out of my dark, glitterless closet? Might they have nudged me closer to a conversation with my family that would not take place for years?

[T]here is no doubt that Simon is the kind of role model I would have embraced as a confused, scared teen. But I also realize that one film would not have significantly altered my timeline or journey. There was more at play in my life than Simon could singularly bear on his shoulders.

But a boy can dream. I can dream of taking the 16-year-old me to a movie about a boy called Simon, a boy who is trying to come out to the world in his own time and on his own terms. I can watch him relate to Simon’s struggles and empathise with his fears. I can laugh with him at Simon’s awkwardness. I can smuggle him a tissue when Simon comes out to his family and they embrace him. I can share with him the elation of the final scenes.

And as the credits roll, I can turn to him and say, "See. It’s going to be OK." 

The author of the piece bemoans growing up in the 1990's.  For me, as teen in the 1960's and first years of the 1970's, the 1990's were downright accepting and wonderful in comparison. No child or youth should undergo rejection, bullying or condemnation by modern day Pharisees simply for who they are - who god made them to be. 

Things That I Wish I Had Known in High School

A graduation day similar to my own at Onongada Central Jr./Sr. High

In many of the earliest posts on this blog I have recounted my coming out story and my life growing up as a closeted gay boy in a Catholic household and attending a small conservative public high school in Central New York State.  One of the worse parts of that era before the Internet was the sense of being utterly alone and believing myself to be some sort of lone freak (who, of course, was damned to an eternity in Hell according to my church).  The consequence was that I worked incredibly hard in not allowing my secret to come out.  Other than summers in the Adirondacks and snow skiing during the winter, I viewed my life as a living hell.

Now, inadvertently I have discovered that I wasn't the lone freak I had thought I was at the time. It turns out there were indeed other LGBT kids at my school, including some that I knew (the school was so small that one knew just about everyone).  I've communicated with two of them and now know there were others as well.  It's been a great experience.  Of course, at the time none of us knew about each other, so we never had our "Geography Club"  moment. 

Growing up gay is still difficult in many parts of America and in far too many families.  Thankfully, the Internet will allow many to reduce their sense of isolation  - some that plagued me and increased my own lack of self acceptance - and add to their belief that things will get better.  Yes, a long term view for teenagers is hard to implement, but having access to the knowledge that there are others like you and places that are accepting will hopefully serve as a life line to more and more of today's LGBT teens.  Meanwhile, I will continue to try to expose the hypocrisy and evilness of those who seek to oppress and stigmatize LGBT individuals. 

  

Return to Brantingham Lake - 42 Years Later

Lake after sunset

This weekend is turning out to be a wonderful and also emotional weekend.  I am back at the family summer "camp" on Brantingham Lake in the Adirondack Mountains of northern New York State for the first time in 42 years.  It is my husband's first visit.  It's a long story as to why I haven't been back, but better late then never sums up the situation.  My maternal grandparents purchased the camp in 1938 but the family connection goes back far longer.  There are photos of my great grand parents here at the lake in 1896 and subsequent years.  Among the many photos are those of my late mother during her last visit to Brantingham in the summer of 2010.   So, so many memories.  Above is a photo of the lake just after sunset last night and below is a photo of the house and views of the lake early this morning.  

In my June 2015 VEER Magazine I wrote in part about growing up gay and here's the portion that looked at the role this place played in my life:

If the school year was a nightmare, summers were what likely saved me and helped me survive my teen years.  Through my mother's  family, we had a summer home on Brantingham Lake in the western Adirondack Mountains in northern New York State.  As my siblings and I got older, we spent large parts of the summer at the "camp" as such summer homes are called in local parlance.  And this allowed me an opportunity to reinvent myself, if you will.  While I truly sucked at school team sports, I excelled at slalom water skiing, sailing, canoeing and swimming.  I could compete and hold my own.  In addition, at camp, we had a whole different circle of friends, most of whom were from other parts of New York or surrounding states and were far more sophisticated than my school year friends.   Yes, I still struggled to "pray away the gay" and convince myself that I wasn't really attracted to some of my male friends.  And , yes, the mental gymnastics to deny the truth about my sexual orientation continued at Olympic proportions.  But these summers allowed me to finally feel somewhat good about myself.   As one friend from those years with whom I have reconnected through the magic of Facebook wrote in a post "the memories of the lake, the times in the boats at night, skiing in the mornings at 6am so as to be the only boat on the lake..... these are the memories that never leave me and are the ones I use to help me get to sleep at night."  They were the summer time experiences that helped me survive growing up gay.

There have been changes in the place over the years - most notably the loss of a number of huge pine trees felled in a severe "mircobust thunder storm some years back that wreaked havoc on the area - but other aspects have not changed at all.  

Camp in the fading sunset

Early morning view - mist over the lake

Early morning - mist over the water

What it Means to "Sound Gay" and Internalized Homophobia

Growing up gay and in denial about one's sexual orientation is complicated at best and a mix of knowing in one's heart what the truth is yet trying desperately - at least in my own case - to convince the world and one self that that secretly known truth is not real.  One side effect is being hypersensitive about how one acts, looks and god forbid, talks and sounds to others.   It is all part and parcel with trying to live up to a perceived stereotype of how straight men act and talk.  The effort to maintain the role is non-stop except perhaps when one is alone.  It is exhausting to say the least.  A new documentary called "Do I Sound Gay" throws focus on the phenomenon and the fear that I and others had growing up - I suspect many still are effected - that my voice and/or mannerisms would reveal my dreaded secret.   A piece in the Washington Post looks at the documentary and the internalized (and external) homophobia involved.  Here are excerpts:

Most of us are familiar with the stereotype of a “gay voice.” A man speaks at a higher pitch, and in a more melodious fashion. The man might pronounce his p’s, t’s and k’s very crisply, or have what’s sometimes (incorrectly) described as a “lisp." Think Nathan Lane in The Birdcage, or Buddy Cole of Kids in the Hall.

But is there any reality to this stereotype? Do gay men actually sound different than straight men? And if so, why?

These are the questions in a new documentary, “Do I Sound Gay?” It’s a fascinating and nuanced film, in which the filmmaker, David Thorpe, uses his feelings about his voice to look at attitudes toward homosexuality. It raises a complicated discussion about gay pride, lingering homophobia, disguised misogyny, and the extent to which we all alter the image that we present to the world.

As the film begins, Thorpe is disturbed because he realizes he doesn’t like his voice any more. He’s just gone through a break-up and is feeling unconfident and low. “Who could respect, much less fall in love with, an old braying ninny like me?” he asks.

With these feelings of self-loathing, Thorpe sets on a journey to see if he can become more comfortable with his voice again (and presumably, with himself). He enrolls in voice coaching that promises to give him a "powerful and authentic" voice.

Thorpe explores in other ways the meaning behind his voice and his discomfort with it. He carries out thoughtful conversations with his friends and prominent gay and lesbian figures – including George Takei, David Sedaris, Dan Savage, Margaret Cho and Don Lemon – about what it means to “sound gay.” And though these people are all proud of their sexuality, he finds many of them have surprisingly complex feelings about their voices.

The film asks more questions than it answers. 

In a study published in 2003, Ron Smyth, a linguist at the University of Toronto, found that participants readily separated recordings of 25 diverse voices into those who “sounded gay” and those who “sounded straight.” People picked up on features of the gay stereotype – voices that were higher and more melodious were more often labeled "gay."

The trouble was that these labels had little relationship with sexuality. In Smyth's study, people correctly guessed a man’s sexuality about 60 percent of the time, only a little better than random.

In another small study at the University of Hawaii, both gay and straight listeners were equally as likely to misclassify people as gay or straight. In fact, the straight men with so-called gay voices weren't aware that people thought they sounded gay at all.

"Some men with 'gay voices' are straight, and some men with 'straight voices' are gay," says Smyth. "There are butch and fem gay men, there are butch and fem straight men, there are butch and fem straight women." And so on.

“Do I Sound Gay?” shows that even men who are out and proud may still carry with them some shame about having a stereotypical “gay voice,” even if those feelings are subconscious.

Dan Savage, a gay activist and author, argues in the film that this is a natural consequence of boys being bullied for walking and talking a certain way when they are young. They grow up "policing" themselves for evidence that might betray them, like their voice, Savage says.

Under-running these negative feelings is also a strong current of misogyny, an ingrained prejudice against women, say Thorpe, Savage and others.   Misogyny and homophobia are “evil twins,” which both have a root in sexism and devaluing things that are female, says Thorpe.

Like most kids, Thorpe was painfully sensitive to what made him different.  . . . . there were also almost no positive gay characters in the media. . . . few people openly talked about their homosexuality.   And when characters with “gay” mannerisms or voices appeared in popular culture, they were sometimes coded with negative or insidious meanings.

[H]omophobia still affects Hollywood. Many actors work to make their voices sound masculine: In the film, Bob Corff, a Hollywood speech therapist that Thorpe visits, says 20 to 50 people a year come to him to sound "less gay."

The biggest response to the film, Thorpe says, is people "standing up to talk about their own voices, their own stories, their own anxieties -- about aspects of themselves that are inherent to who they are, but for one reason or another, they’ve been taught to devalue."

I hope for the day when "sounding gay" simply does not matter - either to the speaker or the listeners.  Growing up gay was no bed of roses.  No one should grow up hating them self.

Pride Week 2015 - Growing Up . . . Gay in Hampton Roads

Earlier in the month I wrote about an event sponsored by the Hampton History Museum that will take place tomorrow evening.  The recordings of the panel discussion from the event will become part of the Museum's oral history collection that seeks to preserve history through the recollections of ordinary people as well as the prominent and famous.  The topic is growing up gay in Hampton Roads.  The husband is one of the panelists.  Last evening we hosted a gathering at our home for the panelists and some of the Museum staff in order that the panel could get to know each other somewhat before the event and review the event format.  Based on last night, the panel discussion should be remarkable, especially the contributions to be made by  Gavin Grimm, a transgender boy on who's behalf the ACLU has filed a law suit against the Gloucester County School Board.  Here are details on the event (which will be followed by music and a cocktail party):

This year The Hampton History Museum will be presenting an event entitled "Our Story, Our Time  Growing Up . . . Gay in Hampton Roads."  The event is free to the public and starts at 5:30 on June 24, 2015, at the Crown Plaza Marina, 700 Settlers Landing Road in downtown Hampton.  Part of what the event focuses upon is the reality that LGBT individuals have always been part of our local history even if in times past they felt the need to remain invisible. 

The Hampton History Museum event will include a panel the members of which will describe what it was like to grow up "different" in Hampton Roads.  Panelists include Dick Fore, the owner of Foremost Florists, Barry Menser, owner of Barry's for Hair, Corey Mason, an actor, theater director and college student, Anthony Cudrup of the Hampton Finance Department, Bobbi Mitchell, and Art Institute student and Gavin Grimm, a transgender high school student.

Local readers need to attend and learn some interesting history and meet some wonderful people.

P.S. Posting will be reduced all week due to the daily Pride events we will be attending every evening.

Summer, Pride, and Growing Up Gay

Brantingham Lake from the air

Summer remains my favorite time of the year and, in part,  I attribute it to the summer of my closeted youth.  The following is a reprint of my June, 2015, column in VEER Magazine:

Summer is my favorite part of the year for reasons that will be described in part below.  It is also the time of year that the majority of LGBT "pride events" take place when LBGT individuals take pride in who they are and celebrate the advances that have been won over the years.  In fact, in America, June is "Pride Month" and President Obama has issued a proclamation in recognition of this reality.  The proclamation reads in part as follows:

"we are not truly equal until every person is afforded the same rights and opportunities -- that when one of us experiences discrimination, it affects all of us -- and that our journey is not complete until our lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) brothers and sisters are treated like anyone else under the law.

During Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month, we celebrate the proud legacy LGBT individuals have woven into the fabric of our Nation, we honor those who have fought to perfect our Union, and we continue our work to build a society where every child grows up knowing that their country supports them, is proud of them, and has a place for them exactly as they are.

"NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim June 2015 as Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month." 

Encouraging and welcome words.  Here locally, Hampton Roads Pride will sponsor PrideFest 2015 at Town Point Part on Saturday June, 27, 2015, commencing at 12:00 o'clock noon.  However, the local Pride celebration is growing with each passing year and more events are taking place in the lead up - Pride Week, if you will - to the main event on June 27th.  This year The Hampton History Museum will be presenting an event entitled "Our Story, Our Time  Growing Up . . . Gay in Hampton Roads."  The event is free to the public and starts at 5:30 on June 24, 2015, at the Crown Plaza Marina, 700 Settlers Landing Road in downtown Hampton.  Part of what the event focuses upon is the reality that LGBT individuals have always been part of our local history even if in times past they felt the need to remain invisible. The Hampton History Museum event will include a panel the members of which will describe what it was like to grow up "different" in Hampton Roads.  Panelists include Dick Fore, the owner of Foremost Florists, Barry Menser, owner of Barry's for Hair, Corey Mason, an actor, theater director and college student, Anthony Cudrup of the Hampton Finance Department, Bobbi Mitchell, and Art Institute student and Gavin Grimm, a transgender high school student.  For Peninsula readers, the event might prove eye opening.

I myself did not grow up in Hampton Roads.  Rather I grew up through high school in Central New York State near the city of Syracuse.  But like each of the panelist and with countless gays across America, the day came when I realized - in my case, much to my extreme horror, given my Catholic upbringing and the relative conservatism of Central New York at the time - that I was "different."   What I realized was that that my principal attractions were to other boys.  Not all other boys, but toward boys of a certain look and temperament.  One of the big myths of opponents of gay equality is that gays are either predators or seek to "recruit" others with very little discernment.  We are no different that straight people who each have their "type," preferred hair color, etc.  And I assure you, no one ever recruited me.

 At the time this unwanted realization hit me, I did not know what the term "gay" was but I did know that what I was feeling and experiencing had to remain a total secret.  And for the next thirty seven years, I did everything that I could to deny and suppress this reality and to "pray away the gay" through daily mass attendance, and a rigid effort to never, ever let anyone know "my secret."  Life for me became that of playing the role of an actor on a stage.  All these years later, it is hard to comprehend how I could convince myself that I was "straight" even as I knew in my heart what the real truth was.  I guess the only answer is that one will engage in all kinds of mental gymnastics rather than accept an unwanted reality.  Spurring me on in the effort were, of course, several factors: being gay was deem a clinical form of mental illness until my last year in college at the University of Virginia, (ii) my church's pronouncements that I was going straight to Hell, and (iii) family and societal expectations.

For many of us, our teen years are years of finding ourselves and lack of confidence.  Carrying the burden of "my secret," my teen years were likely worse than most.  Making matters worse for me was the fact that I did not excel at any of the popular sports at our small high school (750 students in grades 7 through 12), such as football, basket ball and baseball.  Gym class was always a nightmare for me.  Adding to my problem of fitting in, I was one of the "smart kids" and went on to eventually win a New York State Regents Scholarship.  Trying desperately to pass as straight and not be deemed a dork, I did a season of football, a season on the tennis team and then finally I joined the cross country team for two seasons where I actual received a varsity letter.  The closeted gay boy a varsity athlete!   Imagine that!  Despite this triumph of sorts, however, like many LGBT youth, I thought of suicide often since my efforts to "pray away the gay" were getting me nowhere.  Like so many others, these thoughts of suicide plagued me for years and latter while coming out, I acted on them twice in a serious manner, obviously without success.

If the school year was a nightmare, summers were what likely saved me and helped me survive my teen years.  Through my mother's  family, we had a summer home on Brantingham Lake in the western Adirondack Mountains in northern New York State.  As my siblings and I got older, we spent large parts of the summer at the "camp" as such summer homes are called in local parlance.  And this allowed me an opportunity to reinvent myself, if you will.  While I truly sucked at school team sports, I excelled at slalom water skiing, sailing, canoeing and swimming.  I could compete and hold my own.  In addition, at camp, we had a whole different circle of friends, most of whom were from other parts of New York or surrounding states and were far more sophisticated than my school year friends.   Yes, I still struggled to "pray away the gay" and convince myself that I wasn't really attracted to some of my male friends.  And , yes, the mental gymnastics to deny the truth about my sexual orientation continued at Olympic proportions.  But these summers allowed me to finally feel somewhat good about myself.   As one friend from those years with whom I have reconnected through the magic of Facebook wrote in a post "the memories of the lake, the times in the boats at night, skiing in the mornings at 6am so as to be the only boat on the lake..... these are the memories that never leave me and are the ones I use to help me get to sleep at night."  They were the summer time experiences that helped me survive growing up gay.

The good news is that things have changed remarkably since my teen years - in ways that I could never have dreamed of.  I hope readers will make an effort to attend both the Hampton History Museum event and PrideFest on June 27th.  I am also so very thankful that things are so much better for the younger generations that hopefully will never have to know the loneliness, isolation and self-hate that many of my generations faced.  There is still much work to be done, but growing up gay no longer needs to be such a rigorous ordeal.  And that is a very good thing. 

Pride Week 2015: Our Story, Our Time Growing Up . . . Gay in Hampton Roads

June is officially Pride month based on Barrack Obama's newly released proclamation.  Here locally, Hampton Roads Pride will sponsor PrideFest 2015 at Town Point Part on Saturday June, 27, 2015, commencing at 12:00 o'clock noon.  However, the local Pride celebration is growing with each passing year and more events are taking place in the lead up - Pride Week, if you will - to the main event on June 27th.  

This year The Hampton History Museum will be presenting an event entitled "Our Story, Our Time  Growing Up . . . Gay in Hampton Roads."  The event is free to the public and starts at 5:30 on June 24, 2015, at the Crown Plaza Marina, 700 Settlers Landing Road in downtown Hampton.  Part of what the event focuses upon is the reality that LGBT individuals have always been part of our local history even if in times past they felt the need to remain invisible. The Hampton History Museum event will include a panel the members of which will describe what it was like to grow up "different" in Hampton Roads.  Panelists include Dick Fore, the owner of Foremost Florists, Barry Menser, owner of Barry's for Hair, Corey Mason, an actor, theater director and college student, Anthony Cudrup of the Hampton Finance Department, Bobbi Mitchell, and Art Institute student and Gavin Grimm, a transgender high school student. 

 For Peninsula readers, the event might prove eye opening.  I hope that readers will try to attend. 

Disclaimer: the husband is one of the panelists.