A Hard Day

(photo courtesy of Stuart Seeger, via Flickr)

Yesterday our son came home with terrible news.

A dear friend and fellow third grader had explained that his parents had said the boys couldn't be friends anymore.

Both boys are confused and sad. We don't know what precipitated this declaration, but based on our son's story and some other prior interactions, we suspect that homophobia may be at the root of it.

As a lesbian parent, I'd been warned that this day was coming. But nothing really prepares you for trying to explain the inexplicable to your wounded child.

I'll be reaching out to my Muslim and African-American friends today for their advice and support. There are too many of us who live in fear of the day our children will come home with a broken heart.

And we'll be talking with our boy about civil disobedience again... for as much as we want him to respect the adults in his life, we also want him to understand that he is ultimately in charge of who his friends are.

Mostly, though, we're going to listen with love and empathy as he tries to process this.

If you know our son and you're reading this, please don't mention it to him unless he brings it up. We think there's a chance that the boys will "forget" the nonsensical edict and continue to enjoy each other's company — at school, at least.

This is the kind of private situation I would typically refrain from blogging about. But in honor of the memory of Tyler Clementi, who should have been celebrating his first month as a college freshman today, I am speaking out.

Homophobia and other forms of prejudice are fueled by fear of the unknown. As much as I believe, as a Quaker, in the power of centered and prayerful silence, I also believe that we have a responsibility to speak our truths as we are able.

So this is my truth: we all deserve to feel safe, respected, and loved.

Please join me in taking a stand against racism, homophobia, sexism, Islamophobia, anti-Semitism, and other forms of soul-chilling discrimination in your schools and communities. Talk with the people in your life about the challenges you've faced and the steps you've taken to overcome them. And hold a good thought for my son and his friend.

(See the good news update here!)

Glasses of Undeniable Gayness

Earlier this summer, my partner discovered and quickly became enamored of the Mexican telenovela "Las Aparicios." My partner does not speak Spanish (or at least she didn't, then), but she seemed determined not to let a little thing like incomprehension stand between her and her appreciation of some seriously fun and queer-positive storytelling.

Enter Ingrid Diaz, novelist and blogger extraordinaire, who has been posting recaps of Las Aparicios episodes on her website.

Even after discovering that she could pay to have the show streamed to her computer with English subtitles, my partner continued to read Ingrid's helpful and often hilarious recaps. And little bits of Ingrid's world view started to make it into ours.

So, for example, here's one of Ingrid's recaps that inspired us:

To finish off the ensemble, Julia throws on some Glasses of Undeniable Gayness, because otherwise she might’ve not been believable as a lesbian. And then the two of them parade down the street trying to pass themselves off as a lesbian couple.

So can you guess where this is going?

Last week, we picked up our new glasses. Which we have of course now declared to be our glasses of undeniable gayness.

Beautiful, no?
And so gay.

(Many thanks to Ingrid Diaz
for her continuing fabulosity,
and to a certain young photographer
for knocking his usual rate down for us.)

Photo by ecstaticist, via Flickr

low morning clouds –
seeming, for a moment,
like a mountain range


(A day that begins
with a haiku
is a good day.
A haiku that I know
I will be able to hold
in my mind all day
is a good haiku.
For me, anyway.)

Sunflowers

1. Sunflower 1, 2. Sunflower 2, 3. Sunflower 3,

4. Sunflower 4, 5. Sunflower 5, 6. Sunflower 6,
7. Sunflower 7, 8. Sunflower 8, 9. Sunflower 9

(This is what we did on Friday.)