Updated: Jul 13, 2023
The focus of my life has really been to live my best, happy life. Although I have marched and protested and donated to our cause, I wouldn't call myself an activist. But Ryan is. Ironically, he wasn't as "active" as I was but in his soul burns the fire of injustice.
He seemed particularly down today so I asked him if I could make him a sandwich and have lunch with him.
"Thanks," he said, "but I'm not hungry."
"Can I sit with you while I eat?" Without meaning to, I chuckled because if there was anyone between the two of us who shouldn't be eating, it was definitely me. I set about making my lunch while trying to cajole Ryan into telling me what was doing. It took some effort but I was heartened by the fact that he didn't just up and leave. Finally I tried the direct approach, "You seem pretty down."
"Did you read the news?"
No, I hadn't.
"The Supreme Court gave that web designer permission to not only refuse to serve gay people, but she is allowed to declare her refusal in writing on her site. Mind you, all of this is contrary to Colorado laws."
"Shit," I said. "So religious bigotry wins?"
"It does. But it is not really about bigots. It is about the myriad of religious laws written thousands of years ago for a society nothing like ours. As of today, those laws, many of which are dangerous, have credence over non-discrimination? Who is going to decide which ancient writings are worth ditching equality for? Or must we allow all of them to take precedence?"
Ryan's eyes filled and he started to choke on his emotions. I instinctively reached out for him. He flinched. And then he took my hand and wrapped all of his fingers around it. "Sorry," he whispered.
"No need," I said. And we sat quietly for a few minutes like that. Then slowly, we started reminiscing about all the protests we had been involved in. We laughed about some of the costumes we wore. We remembered our pride, and courage. What we didn't say, what we totally skirted, is that today something we had fought for had been taken away which is very different from not yet achieving what you are fighting for.
Tucson's Pride Festival is in September and the small community we live near "doesn't do pride," or so we were informed which meant we had to make our own. So we are.
Arizona really is a melting pot of thoughts and feelings. So far we have felt no animosity. Each one of us has a story of acceptance. My favorite is Ryan's. He went to a small artist community south of us and discovered the joys of cowboy shopping. He came home with a hat that made his head look way too small, a shirt that had so much shiny embellishment you had to wear sunglasses if you were standing next to him outdoors, and custom made boots that were buttery soft, bright turquoise, and came to a steel point that turned a shoe into a weapon. He said he went into at least ten stores and galleries and each place was welcoming, eager to help him accessorize his outfit including finding just the right earrings to match the shirt. Of course I think straight people like gay men better than dykes. (Ryan wholeheartedly disagrees.) But most people will get a chuckle when a guy wraps himself in a boa but they start grimacing when a woman swaggers into a room in leather chaps. (ooh...that just gave me a pleasant visual.)
Still, we are finding out today, that gay support comes when we have the cash required to lubricate the process. And it ends when a bigger prize comes along. It turns out there are lots of bigger prizes.
I read an interesting article today that pointed out we are a pretty small minority...even when you combine all the letters of our group. So the fact that we have as much support as we do have is a tribute to every LGBTQ+ person who lives an out and uncompromising life. Yes we have dedicated organizations that fight every day for equality and awareness, but the lesbian family that lives in a middle class neighborhood without pretending to be anything but, or the gay male first grade teacher that continues to love and encourage little kids of all genders--they are heroes to me. Every day they are representing all of us and everyday they do it well.
I I like my mornings to myself so it has been a bit of an adjustment to flip flop my way into the kitchen and find people there…people who are wide awake, smiling, and chatting. I do kind of like being greeted by a chorus of “Morning, Lilly,” but I find that I frequently forget to respond.
This morning I remembered. “Hi, guys. How’s it going?”
Pen wasn’t up yet. Ryan was headed back to his room. “Good, thanks,” he said after a moment’s thought.
That left Harriet and ML. “Get you coffee and toast and join our conversation,” ML said in a way that sounded more like an order than an invitation. But I’m sensitive about being told what to do.
“She doesn’t eat toast,” Harriet pronounced.
Who was I going to prove wrong? I glanced at Harriet then ML. I plunked two pieces of bread in the toaster and warmed up a mug of coffee in the microwave.
They went back to their conversation. It was about the adventure sub that went missing. How come five rich people get the Coast Guard and international rescue ships while hundreds of migrants in the Mediterranean get nothing? was Harriet’s point. People are people was ML’s point.
I chimed in. “I don’t think we should do less for the rich. I just think we should do a whole lot more for the poor.” I was a little surprised I was so succinct. “Solving societal problems doesn’t happen by taking away from one group to bolster another,” I added while plastering the semi burnt toast with peanut butter.
“What do you think taxes do?” ML shot back.
Harriet answered before I could. “They are meant to be an equitable contribution to the community pot. Both the rich and poor benefit from good roads, safe air and water, good schools, strong military, safe air space…the list is practically endless.”
“What she said,” I said, taking a big gulp of coffee. We high-fived each other.
ML laughed. “You have a glimmer of a good point.”
I like this about our little group. We talk. We listen. We gang up on each other and we don’t beat each other up for our differences. At least this has been true to date! I’ll let you know if any bad feelings linger.
