Susan Rushton commentary: Celebrating and understanding difference

Well. It's Pride Month, a celebration that started 53 years ago, the year after the Stonewall Uprising. Now be honest. Do you think it's reasonable to arrest adults because their idea of love is different from yours? Arrest? Leading to possible jail time? Really? I admit it took me a while to celebrate the idea of gays being "out." But it also took the country several centuries to allow women to vote; or allow people of different colors to marry; or two people of different religions to marry; or allow married couples to use contraception – yes, that used to be illegal, for Pete's sake. And it used to be illegal for two gays to marry each other. What once seemed appalling is no longer appalling. It's not illegal, either. And I'm so happy. I remember an odd movie we saw in high school. I imagine those of us of a certain age all saw odd movies in high school. The only thing I remember about this one – it was supposed to tell us about the problems with sex – was how horrible homosexuals were. We were shown some guys they told us were homosexuals ... and we were supposed to be sure they were gay because they wore shoes without socks. Really? No socks? OMG. I heard serious murmuring among the guys. The message they received? Better wear socks, buddy. Thinking back, of course we had gay students in my high school. But I was never aware of anyone's gayness. The first time I saw someone I knew was gay? In San Francisco, when one guy on the corner kissed another on the corner ... yow. I'd never seen anything like it before. I learned a major lesson after college. I was teaching, and one of the other teachers was quietly living with a friend. Several of us – not including those two – were chatting ... about something, I don't remember. And I mentioned Eloise and her (I paused) (I was sneery) "friend." Wow. I did that. Me. I hate that memory. And I work hard to ensure I don't forget it. It's something I need to remember. The others were silent. Their silence made it clear I was out of line. And in their continuing silence, I recognized my prejudice. I was embarrassed. I didn't like it, didn't like what I sounded like, didn't like the message I sent to my colleagues. And I knew that not only was my comment wrong, so was my attitude. Awkwardly, I repeated "friend" in a gentler tone and swore to myself I'd never embarrass myself like that again. I never have. After loving several people who happen to be gay – friends, my nephew, his partner – I find it's not difficult to accept how others love. It's easy. For one thing, it's none of my business who someone loves. It's also none of my – or anyone's – business how someone sees themselves. Let people be. They're living their lives. You're living yours. Me? It's always been clear that guys were the people for me. Oh my, yes, from ... gosh, from at least sixth grade when I had hopeless crushes on a variety of boys, from Bill to Sam to Chuck. Especially Chuck. I'll always remember his singing voice ... and gazing at him in his T-shirt on the volleyball court. My goodness. And of course, they were only the beginning. Oh, la lala la la ...! But what if it hadn't been that way? What If I'd had hopeless crushes on a variety of girls? It wouldn't have been my fault. But I'd have felt obligated to shut up and ignore my feelings. I'd certainly have wondered what in the world was wrong with me. Because who could I have told? Geez, nobody. How grueling that must have been once for those born gay. What a tragedy for those who had to silence themselves because their religion and/or parents and/or community and/or laws made it clear that doing anything other than connecting themselves with a person of another gender was appalling, wrong and embarrassing. Plus it was illegal. Illegal. The good news, of course, is that it's no longer illegal. Hasn't been illegal for years. And I must share with you how wonderful it felt when I wandered into the Auburn Library at the beginning of the month. I saw a kiosk with a bunch of books focusing on LGBTQ –and a sign that wishes us "Happy Pride Month." All those books – and "Happy Pride Month" – and nobody yelling, objecting, complaining or protesting. Instead, peace. Information. Understanding. Acceptance. I'm so proud. Susan Rushton's opinion column appears regularly in the Auburn Journal. Her email is goldcountrydenizens@gmail.com.