“Boys Don’t Kiss Boys Here”

Jan7 by D Gregory Smith

A brilliant, heartwarming and serious look at the way gender hyper-stereotypes may be crushing our children’s spirits, from The Good Men Project:

“Time to clean up your toys and come downstairs to say our goodbyes.” I yell upstairs as two sweet boys come sliding down the stairs, giggling—still covered in markers and delight.

“Give your friend a great big hug and a kiss and tell him we’ll see him soon,”

“Mom, I can’t kiss him.”

“Why not?” I ask with a smile, imagining some funny, as-only-kids-will-say statement. Sadly, my smile withdrew as I heard the following response come out of my child’s mouth.

“Because Sam’s mom said that boys aren’t allowed to kiss each other.”

Fear. It creeps in like a villain who, even after dying one thousand times over by the hands of the comic book hero, manages to live on.

This incident left me befuddled. It felt similar to a time when my son showed a love of dance that was so intense it only made sense to enroll him in lessons. At three years old, he was the only boy in a class of all girls. Comments from other parents were surprising. My husband was particularly frustrated when one mother said, “Wow—that’s great of you. I just don’t think I can enroll her brother in dance. My husband would kill me.”

As a mother of a boy in a post-feminist society, I stopped a sole focus on career aspirations and cracking that ever-present glass ceiling and instead, altered my sightline. Raising a boy is one feat, and requires presence of mind and reaction timing surpassing that of an NFL quarterback. To raise a man, however, requires forethought and an open mind. It made perfect sense that Tom Matlack started Good Men Project—what struck me in my desire to better parent a boy, is how little support and information there is out there to do just that.

You may remember the story about the kid whose mom let him dress up as Daphne for Halloween– this essay is just as frank, just as important and asks some very important questions.

Please read the whole essay here.

Majority of Montana Voters Support Same-Sex Domestic Partnerships

Jul30 by D Gregory Smith

No, seriously- Welcome!

I mentioned this in passing yesterday, but a newly released poll shows that a majority of voters in Montana support domestic partnerships for same-sex couples. That poll, conducted by Greenberg Quinlan Rosner Research for the American Civil Liberties Union, found that 53 percent of Montana voters favor allowing gay and lesbian couples to enter into domestic partnerships.

“Support of same-sex domestic partnerships is growing, and now we can quantify what our day-to-day interactions with people are telling us,” said ACLU of Montana LGBT Advocacy Coordinator Ninia Baehr. “It’s heartening to know that people understand that every loving and committed couple who pays taxes in our state deserves fairness.”

The change in attitude mirrors an increase in the number of same-sex couples in Montana reporting their households to the U.S. Census Bureau. Recently released numbers show 2,295 same-sex households in the 2010 Census – a 54 percent jump since 2000.

Key Highlights of 2011 Polling

Most Montanans favor domestic partnership. By a 13 point margin, voters in Montana favor allowing gay and lesbian couples to enter into domestic partnerships – 53 percent favor, 40 percent oppose. There is more intensity among those who favor; 35 percent strongly favor, while 29 percent strongly oppose.
More than half of Catholics (55 percent) favor domestic partnerships, including 36 percent who strongly favor allowing domestic partnerships. This measure also wins the support of nearly half (47 percent) of seniors, a majority of older women (54 percent), and blue collar women (52 percent).
Support for domestic partnerships seems to be increasing. A 2008 survey conducted by Lake Research Partners asked voters a four-part question asking them to choose between traditional marriage, marriage with another name, civil unions, and no legal recognition. The survey found that 33 percent of Montanans thought that gay and lesbian couples should have the same right to marry as straight couples, or should have the same right to marry but it should not be called marriage.2
Voters recognize discrimination against gays and lesbians. A 47 percent plurality believe gay people in Montana face a lot of discrimination; only 38 percent think that gays and lesbians in the state do not face much discrimination.

People understand that the lack of legal recognition of same-sex relationships leaves couples extremely vulnerable. In Montana examples of unfairness toward same-sex couples include a woman who was denied bereavement leave when her partner’s father died, and another woman who lost her home because she was ineligible for worker’s compensation death benefits when her partner was killed in an accident.

“Same-sex couples have told us time and again that they are meeting more and more people who sympathize with their plight,” said Baehr. “This polling reinforces the growing support those couples have been experiencing.”

While it’s not exactly marriage, I’ll take it. For now.

This shows the evolution of the Montana voter’s attitude is in favor of eventual, full equality-and this change in attitude has a cause. This is happening because more of us are simply visible as co-workers, neighbors, children, siblings and friends. We are not a threat, we’re just people.

I’m particularly impressed with the Catholics- and not surprised, really. This is about social justice for us- not particularly about morality. Even though the hierarchy is deeply out of touch on this issue, this is a reminder that the sense of the people in the pews is leading the church here. My mother would have agreed- I know the rest of my Catholic family does.

In the eyes of Montanans, “The Gays” are slowly changing from scary bogeymen into recognizable human beings. Never underestimate the power unleashed by broken closet doors….

More info here.

Disease and Dad

Jul26 by D Gregory Smith

From my friend Mark S King over at My Fabulous Disease comes this gem:

The descriptions of his decline, in whispered calls from back home, had a dreadfully familiar feel to them. Weight loss at a frightful pace. Losing interest in the world. Suddenly looking very old indeed. Most gay men of a certain age have heard those words, have seen the patient, have buried the friend. This case was different, though. It wasn’t AIDS, it was cancer.

And the patient was Dad.

The disease had swept rapidly through my father since his initial diagnosis. The inevitable was approaching, but the territory was completely unfamiliar to my family, who hadn’t seen a death in more than 30 years. They were about to get a tour through hell. I have traveled it many times.

Amazing take- especially since losing my own mom in April….
Read the full story here.

Mother’s Day, 2011

May8 by D Gregory Smith

After considering this for a while, I have decided that I am going to partake of some shameless self-indulgent sentimentality.

I miss my Mom.

We all went to Lydia’s in Butte last night for dinner in her honor- it was one of her favorite places. Dad, my brother and sister, their spouses and their parents, me and Ken and his mom. We celebrated all the mothers in our families- including the absent ones. And I noticed something last night that I haven’t been able to shake.

I love being around this family.

I loved watching my Dad enjoy his children. I loved watching Ken gently pull the chair out for his mom before she sat. I loved how we all told stories and laughed and listened and ate delicious food- sharing tastes across the table. I loved the subtle teasing, the secret shared smiles, the knowing nods and the conversation that was all over the table. I loved how we drank wine and water and Manhattans and Diet Coke and shamelessly ordered dessert. I loved how we all treated each other like, well, like we loved each other.

Which we do.

And I wanted my Mom there- because she was always such an uncompromisingly real presence at all of our family gatherings. You never had to wonder what she thought, or who she was talking to- or about. She loved nothing more than to sit next to my Dad and tell stories and laugh, remind us of details- or have us remind her, and generally just be with her kids and have a good time. I’m not sure how, but she taught us how to enjoy each other.

I remember watching them watch us last Christmas. They were sitting together on a couch, and we (me, brother, sister and all our respective spouses) were all talking to each other, telling stories and teasing each other a little, laughing and just having a great time. I happened to look up at my parents and I saw my Mom look at my Dad, smile, and put her head on his shoulder. That moment is one of the most precious memories I have. In my mind, I hear that smile and that gesture say “We done good, Dave.”

They sure did.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. We miss you lots.

My Mother’s Son

Apr22 by D Gregory Smith

First, I want to thank everyone for the marvelous messages of support during the last week. Losing my mom was/is pretty rough. If you knew her at all, you knew she was a survivor, a character who didn’t like to be bored, wouldn’t take any shit- but dished it out beautifully- and loved to eat, to laugh and tell stories with the best of them. She and my Dad loved it when we were all home, or all together somewhere. We all like being around each other- and that says a lot. You probably know that the apples didn’t fall far from the tree- her children are all like that in one way or another….

Dad and Mom

I loved my mother in ways that are complicated and extremely simple at the same time.

She was my best friend- and the biggest gadfly I endured. She cheered me on when I needed it, cheered me up when I felt like shit and told me exactly what she thought if she felt I was making a mistake- well, she told me what she thought no matter what I did, said or thought myself. And as she got older, she did it so much more gracefully. She didn’t intrude as much as she simply reminded- and after 45 years of knowing her style, I really came to depend on her perspective in ways I wouldn’t have thought possible 20 years ago.

She was a gentle woman with babies and old people. She simply loved them, and they loved her. I’m not sure why. But there were a few times I was at my wits’ end with my mother and then I saw her interact with Sars or a baby- and it reminded me that deep inside, she had an immense capacity for love that her manner sometimes became a smokescreen to protect. She endured pain in a way that I was amazed by. That smokescreen also helped shield us from the hurt and the painful physical issues she navigated daily.

I never doubted her love for me. I don’t think any of us did-even when it was not so easy. We mostly saw through the smokescreen- as did all those close to her. She loved fiercely- she was often deeply offended at injustice in the world- and she did what she could to help out. If you were a friend, or family, or a stranger in need, she always did what she could- it was her at her best.

I like to think I got some of that.

As I bless her presence in my life- now changed a bit- I am so grateful for the many things I have been given by my family. My brother, sister, father and mother have all left indelible marks on my heart and in my life- good ones, fantastic ones. And I will always be grateful. As I grow older, those marks become lines that intertwine with my own loves and ways of seeing the world- being there for others and letting them be there for me. That’s just the way it works. For you, too, I imagine.

But for me, it mostly started with Mom. The love I felt as a child didn’t diminish over time- it just changed a bit. She always did the best she could in my best interest. And it was important to her that I knew she was interested in my life. And accepting- even of the things she didn’t quite understand. She loved Ken like she loved the people my siblings married- they were family and that was that. She trusted me because she raised me to be a conscientious person- someone who acted out of compassion, not spite. We fought sometimes, because she taught me not to give up, ever- even with her, especially if I felt I needed to make my case. She gave me more gifts that I’m sure I’ll notice as life goes on. Thet’s what I’m looking forward to.

This firstborn son had a unique relationship with his mother. It’s like that with almost every mother and child, but no two are ever alike. That woman, my mother, will be forever intertwined in every relationship I have- just as she always has been.

I’ll just notice it more now.

Cpl. Andrew Wilfahrt- Gay Servicemember Died For His Country

Apr9 by D Gregory Smith

A very powerful video about LGBT persons being able to do whatever thay’d like.

“He wanted to go, so that someone with kids and a family
wouldn’t have to.”

–

It Will Not Be The Same
A Poem For Andrew Wilfahrt

It will not be the same for us as for other lovers.

There’ll be no babe born when you’re nine months absent,
Six of them maybe spent under cold clay.

Nor will I share your picture with the men.
They’ll say, “This is Mary.
And young Tom.”
We’ll smile and say he’s the image of his dad.
“This is my Dora. We’ll be wed, soon as I’m home.”
We’ll toast them with watery tea, trying not to show
We don’t believe he’ll ever get back.
They’ll never hear,
“This is my Freddie. Isn’t he a peach?”

And yet our blood is just as red
And it’ll flow just as freely when the bullets fly

We’ll give our lives the same
For our country
For our families
For the sake of those who condemn us and want us dead
We’ll die to keep them safe,
Not to satisfy a god they’ve made in their own image.

It will not be the same for us as for other lovers.
But you are no less a man because of me
And I am not diminished because of you.

~Charlie Cochrane

Squared Away

Apr4 by D Gregory Smith

Friends,
Insurance. Check.
New doctor. Check.
Medications. Check.
Happy. Double check.

It’s all going great, and it looks like things will be done well and (almost) as easily as of old. ADAP came through, and EIP came through which give me insurance and covers my doctor and meds. I had labs drawn today, but unless something changes, I’ll be getting labs drawn once every 6 months and have complete and total access to medical care.
And I’m healthy- all things considered. Thanks for the thoughts, prayers, energy, love, whatever you want to call it. I’m deeply appreciative.

Let me know when I can return the favor.

Be Your Guest

Nov23 by D Gregory Smith

I’m not cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year.

For the first time in over a decade, I am not hosting my cadre of family- chosen and biological, to partake of the fruits of a month’s worth of careful planning, shopping and calculated cooking. I am not obsessing about cooking times, allergies, social tensions, wine, vegan alternatives, keeping children occupied, allowing for left-handed eaters, children, pets and making sure to allow for fluctuations in the weather. I don’t have to worry about having enough toilet paper, serving dishes, utensils and glasses. I don’t have to remind myself to breathe. I don’t have to do a NATO-style diplomatic seating chart, wonder about people being left out or included or hit on. I’m not making my famous fig stuffing, cooking a 22 lb turkey, mashing cranberries, potatoes and making that gravy right after the bird comes out. I’m not enjoying the crazy, wide, beautiful variety of my people from the comfort of my own home.

I’m not doing any of it this year. And, as much as I love all of the above, I’m kind of glad about it.

I’m ready to take a year off and celebrate the blessings in my life with someone else doing all the fussing (my sister’s mother-in-law). I’ll watch football (blankly, I’ll admit), swap stories with my brother-in-law, talk to my Dad about the weather and my Mom about the hell of growing old. My sister and I will catch each other’s eyes at exactly the same time after a crazy comment at the table. There will be other in-laws and outlaws talking delightfully about their childhoods and how kids used to be, while completely fawning over the kids that are there. There will be wonderful smells and sights and tastes and touches and sounds. I’ll probably eat too much and have dessert anyway. I won’t be alone in that.

I’m going to mindfully, gratefully take it all in. Every cheesy, predictable, ordinary moment of it.

Time was, I never thought I’d live this long. I also didn’t think my family would be so fantastic to me and the man I’ve chosen. I’ve suffered through so many of my own misconceptions, misperceptions and straight-up craziness that now I’m simply deciding to pay attention to the truth: the beauty of my life, my family and the ordinary ways I am loved- without working for it.

It can get lost sometimes, in the craziness. The love of being the perfect host/cook/cruise director is still there, but I think I need the reminder of being the guest in order to appreciate the fulness of life. I want to experience the other side. I remember a saying I once saw in a bed and breakfast:

“It is the host’s responsibility to make their guests feel at home.
It is the guest’s responsibility to remember that they are not.”

There’s graciousness involved on both sides. I think I know how to be a host. It’s time to learn how to be a better guest. Because really, like it or not, it’s actually my primary role. I’m a guest in so many different ways every day of my life- we all are.

And a little practice couldn’t hurt.

I wish you all a very beautiful Thanksgiving.