When I Fell in Love with a Gay Man . . . .

Long ago in a faraway place when I was a young woman, I fell in love with a gay man.  Had I been less innocent about sexual preferences and practices, I doubtless would have known that the gentleman was gay.  But I had grown up a Southern Baptist, in N. Louisiana, and I was hopelessly naive about such matters.

This is how it happened–the falling in love, I mean.  I was teaching English in New Orleans at the time, at a public school for gifted children.  One of my colleagues, a math teacher, was tall and handsome and brilliant and sophisticated, and we became friends.  He introduced me to opera and antiques and the pleasures of the French Quarter, where he lived in a three-story house, chock full of art objects he had collected over the years.  Oh, yes–he was also wealthy.  His world had never been my world, and I was eager to learn. 

Our friendship grew, and one evening we found ourselves cozied up in a dark cocktail lounge, having drinks.  Alcohol was another thing that I was fairly unfamiliar with, and so that evening one drink loosened my inhibitions to the extent that I leaned over and kissed my friend full on the mouth.  He was surprised!  But there were stars in his eyes, too, and he was pleased.  Pleased and confused.

We never spoke about what had happened, and then several weeks later, he told me he wanted to talk.  He told me that he loved me–and he told me that he was gay.  He said that after our kiss he had gone to a psychiatrist to ask if he could ever “change” and successfully marry a woman, and the psychiatrist had told him that this kind of treatment would cost a lot of money and take a lot of time, and that it probably wouldn’t work.  So my friend told me, sadly, that he had decided that we could never have a life together.  We remained close friends and companions.

These were the days, back in the 1960′s, when homosexuality was still considered an abberation, an illness that could and should be fixed.  And so my friend had come upon a wise and compassionate doctor who simply told him the truth.  I hope he also told my friend that being gay was OK, that there was nothing bad or wrong about it. 

Which brings us to the present moment.  After nine months of study, the Pentagon has reported that the great majority of soldiers (70%) believe that allowing openly gay men and lesbians to serve poses little risk.  Even most of those in opposition say that they have served with gay and lesbian soldiers to no ill effect (NY Times 12/1, p. A28).  Robert Gates, the Defense Secretary, has asked the Senate to repeal the ban, without delay.  Adm. Michael Mullen, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, supports this position.  Then a proper transition period could ensue, in which regulations could be rewritten and troops could be educated about the change. 

However, given the tone and tenor of several Republican lawmakers, who say they will fight the change, the decision may be thrown to the courts.  John McCain said that the Pentagon survey should have asked service members if the ban should be repealed.  Since when do soldiers get to vote on whether or not they should respect one another?  Since when should any citizens be allowed to discriminate on the basis of skin color (as the military did for so long), sex (ditto), religion, or sexual orientation?

No one in this world should have to hide who they are, should have to “pass,” so that they can be treated like a human being.  No one should have to change a Jewish-sounding name, as some Jews once did; no light-skinned African American should have to pretend to be white; and no gay man or lesbian woman should have to lie about who they are.  Such deception is deadening to the soul. 

I’m still in touch with my friend from time to time–I called when Katrina hit, but of course the French Quarter was spared.  I remember the three other other gay teachers at the school.  Two of them are dead of suicide.  They were enormously creative men, and troubled.  They didn’t fit in.  My friend was spared from such an ending.  But he has been lonely, for long years.

Change is coming–it’s simply a matter of time–we don’t know how and when, but it’ll be soon.  At last, at last.  As Martin Luther King repeatedly told us, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”