March has always been, at best, an ambivalent month for me.
In these weeks of February (it is February as I write this, yes indeed... cursed deadlines) life has become a lot more complicated. I'm writing this on the 6th. Late for me, but life's been crazy. I was recently promoted to the manager of the email list for gay teens that I work for. Last week my ragtag mutt died. Two days later, and causing a lot more grief, was the passing of my grandmother. So now my household is going about the business of death and mourning. I don't like it. Her funeral's on Monday, and I'm reading the 23rd Psalm, along with my brother. So that's been my month so far.
There will be bright notes soon. A class trip to Florida; Dana's and my anniversary of being engaged.
It's funny, how time seems to have practically ceased to have meaning to me. In a matter of months my Junior year will be over, and I will be 17. College, career, marriage... I don't remember growing older.
I was just reading over the preceding paragraphs and wondering if this column was going to reach a point. So now I'm going to talk about gay stuff.
In response to my February column, I received a letter from a reader in his mid-thirties (I think) who wrote that when he was younger, he wasn't comfortable enough with himself to come out at a young age. <waves to Kevin>. When thinking about this, I talked to my surrogate mom, Penny, the ultra neato spiff worker at Lambda Rising in Reho, who I turn to for advice at large because I don't talk to my mom much. Sometimes we talk about the difference between the generations. (To all the teenage readers: you think *we* have it tough? Hooboy.) I was very kindly told that it would have been suicidal for her to come out when she was a kid.
Perhaps I should have clarified last month. The kind of 'bury your head in the sand' thinking is dangerous... today. I happen to think that the gay rights revolution is the next great civil revolution. And I think that the coming out of queers everywhere is necessary to speed this up.
Don't get me wrong. Coming out won't change the world. Well... the world at large. But armies can be formed one at a time...
Topic change! (Yeah, yeah, I'm not feeling coherent.)
I'm in a production of Fiddler on the Roof. I'm Avrahm, the bookseller. (Meaning that I'm playing a man. What can I say, I sing tenor...) It's difficult, to say the least. One day when one of the directors was yelling at me to act more masculine, I heard one of the cast members say that 'she shouldn't have a problem with that'. I swear, I almost bitch-slapped her. Instead, I made a few comments about genderfucking to my best friend in her earshot. Ah, subtlety.
The cast of Fiddler is quite interesting. About 4/5 of the GSA is in some way involved in it. I find that hilarious, if only because only the members of the GSA know it, and if the rest of the company knew some of them would probably fall over and die. My school's theatre program is known for having some *extreme* right wing conservatives in it. (Yeah, like Jesus would support Pat Buchanan...) The funny thing is that despite ourselves, we get along. The girl who told me once that she though I was an abomination now jokes with me on a regular basis.
Which brings me back to coming out and changing the world. Things happen slowly, but they do happen.
I hope this makes sense to someone, because it doesn't to me.