Gee, it's been a while since I last wrote anything for Oasis. A three month hiatus, to be exact, because I really had nothing much to say, but now it's hit me again. To reintroduce myself, my name's Paul . I'm in San Bernardino, about an hour west of Los Angeles, CA. I'm a junior in HS, and hope one day to be a photographer, maybe even indie film director. physical descriptions are so hard to get right, so I'll stick to dimensions. 5'6", 130, 28" , blk hair, brn eyes, afro-am. I also write poetry, paint queer vintage inspired paintings, and am a total rock and funk fan.
here we go...
SOMETHING FOR THE NEW YEAR ( a bit late)
I must confess that I haven't been keeping up to date so eagerly anymore with Oasis. A few years ago, when I first discovered this place, I was deep in the closet. Worried about all the things to worry about. Angry at all the things that I had a right to be angry about. Scared to death of what would happen if my friends and family found out.
I read every column, every guest article, every poem and news article. The profiles in courage were an inspiration, the contributors were real gay people like me or anyone else, who were going through the things that I was going through. Those original people I found here have mostly gone their own ways, as new people expand and continue the cycle. Someone today is just discovering Oasis for the first time, and it could be the beginning of a whole new world of positive acceptance and possibilities.
Things have changed, but I have never outgrown or forgotten this Oasis that very well saved my life for the better.
My New Year's bash was a Culture Club and Berlin concert with my friend Danielle. Actually it was on the 6th, but it was still the first big thing of 99 for me. Berlin was amazing with their performances of Metro, the sex song, and Take My Breath Away. Culture Club Boy George was fabulous (I got it touch with my queer side). His makeup is better than most women can do, and his outfits are amazing. Glam is great. Glam is good. And there were so many hot guys at the concert, especially the guy next to me named Kevin. Too hot...
I am writing in mid January, but this won't be published until February I suppose. So here's for February.
February is the month of romance. Love: love between friends, love between lovers, friends who become lovers. The whole load.
Instead of talking about love, I will do so about romanticism. The romanticism of something serious. I'm talking about Ex-Gay romanticism.
This should sound familiar. Familiar to something that happened about 150 years ago in the pre-civil war US. The Southern white society romanticized the lives of its slaves. Slaves, after all, were SO happy! Playing banjos in their quarters at night, contently plucking cotton in the fields instead of working in dusty Northern factories, and happy to be serving their almost family-like masters. And most of all, they were happy to be saved from the jungles of Africa and be brought to America where they were baptized and given the benefit of Western "superior" civilization.
Now think about these Ex-Gays. They are SO happy with their newfound heterosexual orientations. It works so well, as long as you trust Jesus, it's not hard at all. Saved from self-destruction and God's discontent, they are brought to Almighty Christ, and live wonderfully straight lives. Heterosexual blessings instead of homosexual damnation. What could be more better, fulfilling, and in God's plan?
The ignorant yet well-intentioned Religious Right and Evangelicals have turned from outright rage to caring and compassionate. The Southern defenders of slavery turned from outright hatred of abolitionism to portraying compassion for their slaves. Both these groups romanticized the lives and struggles of the oppressed group. But both were and are far from the truth.
Before this comes to a close, I've got to say something about the most fabulous Church History class teacher you could possibly have in a Catholic school. Mr. Schweiger is leaving his job here for a while, but I'll miss him so much. He is the about the most understanding, considerate, genuinely caring teacher. It is rare that a Catholic school teacher will listen and be willing to learn about the gay victims of the Holocaust, gay civil rights in society and the church, homophobia and so much more in areas of faith and life. And even greater, he challenged all of his students to learn about these things, things that affect all sorts of people that they might have never considered.
Maybe he'll come back and visit the school sometimes, I hope.
So that's it for now, but I think I'm back now. 'Till next month,
any comments, questions, anything else are welcome. my email is at firstname.lastname@example.org
homepage at http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/Heights/2446/