08-29-2014, 05:52 AM
My first thought... The incredible amount of dedication, thoroughness, and most of all honesty that went into that post was ...to use the gayest possible word I know... fabulous! I love the details, the opening backdrop, the revelation, the revelation taken apart, and your reaction to each new piece of information. I'm going to download the PDF and read it all, but I'm sort of curious... I haven't looked up the dates, but when did the Kinsey report rear its head? (Just checked...1948). I'll have to read the PDF and see if they mention the KR as reference.
You were several years ahead of me Mike, but while I didn't exactly get to experience the complete taboo, hatred, and outright torture that gay people were put through in those days, the chill of intolerance was still deadly strong in the mid to late seventies. Especially in small town America. Hell, Matthew Shepard died in 1998.
I was luckier than you were, I know. If it weren't for activist groups, the sexual revolution of the 60's (a lot of those kids/people were activists by default just for showing up at the party), the reclassification by the the medical community removing homosexuality as a mental illness (the early 70's?), none of us would have it as easy as it is today in this country. Wasn't Larry Kramer a part of the Mattachine Society (in its later incarnations, I think)? I have rereading to do, I can't remember anything anymore.
Much of this, dates and the order of events, is fuzzy to me all these years later, but you remember it with such clarity.
I didn't have the same burden you had coming to terms with my sexuality. All the people who (looking for a better word, but none suffice) sacrificed their lives to bring gay issues to the table in America made the possibility of being gay somewhat easier to comprehend. I wrestled with the question, sure, but in my gut I knew the answer. I was terrified of the answer, and more terrified of the reaction if people ever found out about me, but I knew the answer. I think somehow I might have known something about "being different" as earlier as third grade when the nuns sent home a note with me for my mother that essentially boiled down to "Steven only likes to play with girls during recess". Which was bullsh*t, by the way. I had male friends. I just had more fun with the girls. My mother was so pissed at the Catholic school that she pulled me out of it and placed me in public school. A good move until around 6th grade when another torture started to happen.
But the glass closet I lived in until graduation is another story.
For the record, as hard as it was, I loved the Anita Bryant era. I think just because the fight was more clear cut. There weren't so many competing interests, money bases, and players/organizations screaming for attention, good or bad. And the fruit pie was spectacular.
You were several years ahead of me Mike, but while I didn't exactly get to experience the complete taboo, hatred, and outright torture that gay people were put through in those days, the chill of intolerance was still deadly strong in the mid to late seventies. Especially in small town America. Hell, Matthew Shepard died in 1998.
I was luckier than you were, I know. If it weren't for activist groups, the sexual revolution of the 60's (a lot of those kids/people were activists by default just for showing up at the party), the reclassification by the the medical community removing homosexuality as a mental illness (the early 70's?), none of us would have it as easy as it is today in this country. Wasn't Larry Kramer a part of the Mattachine Society (in its later incarnations, I think)? I have rereading to do, I can't remember anything anymore.
Much of this, dates and the order of events, is fuzzy to me all these years later, but you remember it with such clarity.
I didn't have the same burden you had coming to terms with my sexuality. All the people who (looking for a better word, but none suffice) sacrificed their lives to bring gay issues to the table in America made the possibility of being gay somewhat easier to comprehend. I wrestled with the question, sure, but in my gut I knew the answer. I was terrified of the answer, and more terrified of the reaction if people ever found out about me, but I knew the answer. I think somehow I might have known something about "being different" as earlier as third grade when the nuns sent home a note with me for my mother that essentially boiled down to "Steven only likes to play with girls during recess". Which was bullsh*t, by the way. I had male friends. I just had more fun with the girls. My mother was so pissed at the Catholic school that she pulled me out of it and placed me in public school. A good move until around 6th grade when another torture started to happen.
But the glass closet I lived in until graduation is another story.
For the record, as hard as it was, I loved the Anita Bryant era. I think just because the fight was more clear cut. There weren't so many competing interests, money bases, and players/organizations screaming for attention, good or bad. And the fruit pie was spectacular.
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