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Naked Living
Things Change,
Sometimes for the Better
| Naked Living |  |
by Jade Wolfe
Composting cannot be artificially speeded up. My writing ‘experiences’ a composting stage before I can release the words onto paper. Sometimes I feel similar to a detective in a ‘Film Noir’ story, narrating as I move through my day. This particular piece took its own sweet time composting. And, the words somehow stirred up a good deal of emotion as they exited onto the page.
The struggle over civil unions has resulted in new levels of awareness spreading throughout Vermont and spilling over the state lines. It is ground breaking in the United States, providing an entire group of people opportunities for benefits. Legally, the basic respect afforded heterosexual couples is available for gay/lesbian couples. However, acceptance and understanding is in their respective infancies at best.
As a forty-something lesbian, I still feel astonishment every time my own civil union comes to mind. Never in my wildest imagination (which usually has limitless potential, as imaginations go) would I have entertained the image of me and the woman I love being legally “joined.” Yet, here I sit typing these words as a state-recognized spouse in an “other than heterosexual” couple. In conversations with younger gay/lesbian friends, more than once they have expressed their thanks to the older generations of gays and lesbians who were so instrumental in paving the way into the new millenium. While standing face to face with my spouse, affirming our relationship before a minister, it was a very solemn moment. Among other wonderfully disquieting thought forms, my inner spirit was paying tribute to all the people before me, who lived, worked and loved under the societal radar. For centuries, homosexuals somehow maintained fulfilling lives in varying degrees in spite of little recognition as loving human beings. What recognition did exist was almost exclusively negative.
Of course, over a period of much time, the type of clandestine survival behavior shifted. There were countless abuses and discriminatory acts which, as with most unfortunate human undertones, decreased only after tragic events forced society to address the absurdities of prejudice. I will be reading accounts of such occurrences for a long time before truly appreciating the magnitude of those who lived so bravely. And lately, I reference these folks as the “quietly courageous” pioneers.
They have my heartfelt gratitude for the courage with which they quietly loved themselves and when possible, one another. Because of the cumulative affect of these substantive lives, it was relatively a breeze for me to recognize my sexual preference in the mid-1970’s. College in the 70’s was a haven for me while learning that I truly fell in love with people regardless of their outwardly biological distinction. And, although it was in the Midwest, as I made the transition from college life into social service, being in a lesbian relationship was again, manageable. By manageable I mean possible. It helped tremendously to have some level of respect as an advocate and counselor.
The Midwest, if you haven’t visited yourself, can be challenging when you are different. And there were times I experienced minor “hate crimes” like having car windows soaped-up with rude words like “dyke.” I usually prefer for people to get to know me as a person first, rather than a label to struggle past. Perhaps it is from a few years as a mental health crisis worker, but I find it unhealthy to test people just for the sake of testing. And frankly, as I used to introduce myself for workshops, “I am a being on this planet who has many defining features: female this life cycle, spiritual beyond religious tenets, open to as many forms of education as accessible, accepting of people beyond their own biological distinctions (translation: I do not...will not judge anyone by how they take a piss) and neither do I assume much from a list of labels offered about other people.”
I wonder to myself at how amusing it would be if, when grocery shopping we treated the products as cavalierly as we do one another merely by the label on the outer package. But how often we do seem to treat one another unfairly, selling ourselves short? It may be convenient to judge an entire race of people by how one member of that race affects us, but it sets us back as a species, doesn’t it? And, it may feel oh-so-much-safer to assign a certain personal wall up around ourselves when ever we come into contact with a member of a group we have been negatively affected by (defined by gender, age, affiliation) but it will not serve us well.
Actually, it is the matter of walls that determined how difficult the struggles have been, are, and will be for people with a label of homosexual. The blessings reaped by my generation of gays and lesbians were gifts from those who passed before us. And today, many people a bit older than I have been caught up in the ensuing maelstrom of civil union outcome. Thankful as I am for all the advances and of those to come, I feel regret for those who never expected this kind of limelight to fall upon their lives. These countless individuals have my gentle admiration and quiet support. Gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered people who valiantly live as quietly courageous members of the community deserve credit. And it is only fair not to have a blanket expectation. People who are by nature “retiring” individuals need not feel forced into a gregarious role because of one label among many on their human resume.
Younger generations of people who are realizing their own sexual identity do so in a decidedly different social climate than of previous generations. This new climate does not imply they will have fewer struggles, they may be as many, but different. Therefore, I offer my respect out to all the quietly courageous, the bravely outspoken and the newest arrivals. As my best friend from childhood once told me, “do not let someone who is older demand undue respect from you just because they are older...to get respect a person must give respect....it is a mutual exchange or it isn’t truly valid”. It has proved good advice to consider. My grandmother usually abstained from pressing her attitudes upon me, but in this case, I am so glad she made an exception.