not the problem

Today someone asked me whether or not I thought my parents were to blame for my being gay.

First off: No. My parents did not make me gay (or prevent me from becoming heterosexual).

Second off, the question presumes that being gay is somehow maladjusted. That somehow, they did something "wrong" (were 'absent,' or 'spoiled' their child, for example) and their child ended up with this 'disorder.' The truth is that my sexuality is not disordered, but just a fact of my life, like having brown hair and ten toes. So the premise of the theory is wrong to start with.

Third, the question presumes that because being gay is a problem, someone must be guilty. This is what makes me the most angry. The theory is a recipe for endless tortured guilt on the part of parents. They can't go back and correct anything, and they can't move beyond the terrible thing they might have done to result in this horrible condition (which is, by my reckoning, a loving, committed relationship in which my partner and I are building a household and a family together, and a base from which we do good things in the world). My parents did the best they could raising me and my siblings - they made some mistakes and did a lot of things right - and I dare anyone to say they made me gay, or my siblings heterosexual, by their parenting skills!

Fourth, there are plenty of examples of kids who grew up with absent fathers and/or mothers who babied their sons in which the children turned out to be heterosexual. Just as there are many gay people who had loving, present fathers and mothers who were strict with them. My partner, in fact, was spoiled by his father, and his mother was very strict with him.

Fifth, here's what impact my parents did have on my relationship: They helped (along with an entire community and extended family of people) form my values. They raised me to think independently, to value loving relationships, and not to let myself be hurt by others. They taught me to be generous with others, careful with my money, and to care about those who are vulnerable. They taught me to deeply consider my spirituality and values. They taught me to be practical but fed my imagination, to be strong but to express my emotions. They taught me to cook, to study, and to be committed to my partner. They taught me to be tough, and to endure in difficult times. I am grateful for these things, and if you want to blame them for that, go ahead.

My friend Miak posted this link on his facebook page: Homophobia is Not Just Another Point of View, and it makes an important point. The post is about NYU Law School hiring a visiting faculty member from Singapore, who is an expert on constitutional law, human rights, and the UN convention to end all discrimination against women, but who is publicly and actively homophobic. To her credit, she's pithy, if mistaken, about it: "Diversity is not an excuse for perversity," and comparing anal sex to trying to drink with a straw up your nose. (Let's pretend for the moment that straight people don't also have anal sex, and let's not try to pick through what she's trying to say about the purpose of sex with this metaphor.) I was struck by one student's defense that anti-gay laws are the only point where she "lets her religion cloud her rationality," because she's actually got a lot of good things to say about constitutional law and human rights. The blogger linked above clears through a lot of my kneejerk responses. Of course a wide variety of perspectives should be engaged in law school. Of course a person's anti-homosexual stance shouldn't cloud other gifts and wisdom she has to offer. But can I trust someone who wants to impose her brand of morality on the whole system, while still upholding constitutional law and human rights? Does human rights become a pissing contest for whose moral view trumps the others? It's not okay to discriminate against women even if your religion says so, but it's okay to discriminate against gays because my religion says so.

This blogger cuts through that. Homophobia is not "just another viewpoint among many." It has serious consequences (see, for example, the article the other day on the severe rate of HIV infections among gay men across Africa, tied directly to homophobia and mistreatment.) It also muddies the question about morality in a diverse system. What ties people together in a nation? There are values and perspectives that can do so, or at least the dialogue about them can do so. But when it becomes the values of one God or one moral system that erases all others, that's a problem. And, most importantly, as the blogger points out, everyone is entitled to their beliefs, but with that entitlement comes the right to engage with others about them, especially in disagreement. It's not that this visiting professor shouldn't come to NYU, but that she can't pretend to be a victim because others are questioning her authority and viewpoint, based on her outspoken and emphatic homophobia. If she puts herself out in a particular point of view, she can't insulate herself from those who wish to engage with her about it.

And I take this to heart, considering my own points of view, and when I feel the need to insulate or strike back with a personal insult when someone disagrees with me. I get the urge, but I also think it's important to engage with it rather than run away.

in the wrong line of work

Yesterday after a rather frustrating day of job searches in which everyone wanted at couple of years' experience in the field (which wasn't my own), my browser did something that blanked out the online job history I had just completed for a job. That's when I stopped for the day.

Sometimes job hunting makes me

feel like a goldfish in a sushi bar.

I'm a fish,

But nobody wants to put me in sushi.

I might be golden,

And have fluttery fins,

But my body of experience is

too small,

To fit into the pretty little rolls

Chef Craigslist is dishing up today.

But today is a new day,

And someone once sang that

to a goldfish,

The little plastic castle is a

surprise every time.

here's what made me cry this week

Thanks to my Queering the Use of the Bible class, I was given this:

Tiramisu Wedding Cake

by Kathy Skaggs (a really wonderful Kentucky? poet who is a friend of the professor's)

We called him nathan

the Old Testament name for gift

patiently slicing each layer of wedding cake into thirds

our family's best gift to the future.

Her father named her Vrushali

wife of Vedic Lord Karna

grating organic semi-sweet chocolate he tells us

"I found the recipe on the internet and Nathan does the rest."

And here they are

and here we are

manicured pedicured starched pressed

peeled layered laminated

fluffed and blow-dried.

A wedding cake awaits us

assembled through one hundred and four painstaking steps

from cream cheese Kahlua espresso

whipping cream chocolate fresh berries

and much much more.

We celebrate their wedding

in Sanskrit and English

with Beethoven punch and wine

poetry promises candles and flowers

mingled with our joy

and the most elaborate wedding cake

the world has ever seen.

We have driven and flown here

from New Jersey Florida and Texas

India Russia and central Kentucky

cross country across town across the state and around the world

from southern hillsides downtown streets and suburban cul-de-sacs

a community assembled

as painstakingly as a tiramisu wedding cake.

We have given them sheets and food processors

cards flowers hugs

good wishes and a crystal punch bowl

but these are not the real gifts.

The real gifts began before today

and continue long after the honeymoon.

We have given them history and hope

advice and comfort

we have lent them our money our ear and our truck

we have laughed with them and cried with them.

Today is just a symbol a moment

today we will rejoice we'll laugh and dance

and disassemble wedding cake.

Tomorrow the real work begins

the real gift of friendship and marriage continues

as we depart to our homes and our workplaces

to math conferences and Al-Anon meetings

unpacking and repacking and working off wedding cake

we take this responsibility with us:

It takes a whole community to support a marriage.

(from The Poet Laureate of People Who Hate Poetry - by Kathy Skaggs, Time Barn Books, Nashville, 2007).

outsmarted again by my mother-in-law!

Today, as I was making pancakes as my mother-in-law prepared to move back home. This involved cleaning and showing me all the six different brooms, brushes, vacuums, etc that she used to clean the floor and carpets (she loves to clean, which I try very hard to understand but often fail). I asked if it was really useful to keep so many different cleaning tools.

She replied, "You see, it's like your cooking. You are whisking the egg whites with a whisk, but couldn't you just use a fork?" I looked around at my bowls and whisks and spatulas and spoons and measuring cups, and I realized all their jobs could be done with a spoon, fork, knife, and cup.

Outsmarted by Mama again!

privacy

My partner and I have been talking about privacy and confidentiality when it comes to online stuff. How much do you share about your personal life, and how much do you consider your online "persona" when you post things? Do you think about who else may be seeing it, and unintended consequences?

My partner is a much more private person, where I am less concerned about that. The way I grew up, secrets and "privacy" ended up being prisons where I couldn't talk about my experience and reach out to others for help. So when I hear about privacy boundaries, I want to push on them. Why is it important to be private? I want to know.

At the same time, I am definitely guilty of saying too much, of revealing too much on my blog or on facebook, which I assume only friends and family read - but anyone can, searching on google.

So where's the line? As my friend Erica has said, usually you find a boundary when you stumble over it.

I'm curious what other people think about how they write about personal things online.