Coming Out In The Company

When I first "came out" at work, some of my colleagues and supervisors were supportive; others were surprised.  A few were hostile.  The hostile ones were invariably cowards:  They expressed their disdain or hatred of--OK, let's call it what it is:  their bigotry--only when there weren't other witnesses to it.  

Whatever I endured, I reminded myself that I was in one of the better lines of work for trans people.  I simply could not have imagined what my experience might have been like had I been, say, on Wall Street or in the military.

Or the CIA.  I didn't think that people would even broach the subject in "The Company".  In 1988, when computer expert Tracey Ballard "came out" as a lesbian, openly gay Americans were not allowed to have security clearances.  Ballard's disclosure led to a lengthy investigation and made her an outcast in an organization in which homophobia was well-entrenched.

I didn't know Ms. Ballard's story at the time I started my transition. But I didn't think the CIA--or, for that matter, most other government agencies--had become much more welcoming than they were in the '80's or earlier.

However, around the time of my transition, things were starting to change.  A few Federal employees made known  the discrimination they endured. One such case resulted in a landmark ruling for a retired Army Special Forces colonel whose offer of a job as a terrorism specialist at the Library of Congress when she revealed her intention of starting the job as a woman.  Now other Federal agencies--including the CIA--have adopted protocols to protect transgender employees.  

One of those employees is someone identified only as "Jenny", a Middle East expert who "came out" to her supervisor three years ago.  Today, according to the account I read, her identity is "an afterthought" to her fellow employees.

Tracey Ballard could not have hoped for such a happy ending--in 1988.  At least some can hope now.  

The Dog Whistle

There's one sure-fire way to tell when people enjoy privilege they don't even realize they have.  When people who don't have the same privilege get a piece of it, the ones who already have such privilege howl with outrage.  They see themselves as persecuted, and the ones who've gained a little bit of parity with them as menaces who are infringing upon their "rights".

Jeb Bush--who is widely expected to declare his candidacy for the Republican nomination to next year's Presidential election--said that Obama is using his "coercive power" to "limit religious freedom". 

When right-wing politicians talk like that, you know they--and their audiences--are thinking in particular of same-sex marriage.  It's almost as if such whining about "religious freedom" or the persecution Christians supposedly face are really just codes for their abhorrence that LGBT people are finally being allowed to live the kinds of lives straight and cisgender people have always taken for granted.

Really, it's no different from how some politicians--in some cases, the very same ones who feel so threatened by same-sex marriage--talk about "states' rights" or "the inner city" when they want to work their audiences into a lather about people darker than themselves getting the opportunities, and the same avenues of redress, they have.  In other words, it's how they talk about race without mentioning it.

Ian Haney Lopez refers to the use of such coded language--whether it's about blacks, gays, trans people or Muslims--"dog whistle politics" in his book by that name.  Hmm...What does that say about those who use it--or, worse, those who sit up and pay attention when they hear it?

Thank You, Mom!

I am one of the lucky ones.

My decision to live as the woman I am cost me friends and relationships with professional colleagues as well as some relatives.

But Mom stood with me through all of it. Whatever and whoever else I don't have, I still have her.  That makes me one lucky gal.  

Thank you, Mom.  Happy Mother's Day! 

Bushwick Avenue Sunset

Seen on an end-of-day bike ride:

 

Avery's Story

Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I might've become had I not been bullied, or bullied others, because of what I am or what others perceived me to be. 

I wonder what my life could have been like had I the courage to be who I am at an earlier age.  

Of course, the world was a much different place--at least in its attitudes toward gender nonconformists--from what it's becoming today.  There was barely even a language to express what many of us felt, especially if we didn't fit into the stereotypes about being transgendered that early trans people, probably unwittingly, helped to perpetrate by living up (or down) to societal and cultural expectations (not to mention some pure-and-simple prejudices) about how people are supposed to live in one gender or the other.

I mean, how could anyone have understood that I loved sports just as much as I loved dresses, and that I prized nice accessories for my bike as much as I cherished fabulous accessories for my outfits?  Or that, as a female, I was still attracted to females?  (Even those who "didn't have a problem" with lesbians couldn't understand that!)

That is why I find it so heartening to see young people proudly announce who they are--and their parents supporting them.

One such child is Avery, whose story was posted the other day on YouTube:

Two Words

The English language is wonderful. Really.  

After all, it takes only two words to save trans or gay kids from getting the shit kicked out of them in the schoolyard--or trans or gay adults from getting fired from their jobs, evicted from their homes or denied health care or other services.

Just two words.  Deux mots justes.  

On the other hand, those two words are so powerful that they would make some parents pull their kids out of a school--out of fear of the  trans students their kids are bullying.

Two cheap, measly little words.  They're so little the local school board can slip them right past the parents.  Or so those parents fear--because, as little as they are, they could expose their kids to "she male" teachers.

What are those two words?

Hold on to your hats:  Gender identity.

All someone has to do is add those two words to a non-discrimination policy.   Two words, mightier thant the two hydrogen bombs Barry Goldwater  wanted to drop on Vietnam.

That's why some folks in Fairfax County, Virginia are trying to stop them.  Gender identity.  Those words could end the world as they know it.

They could also end the world that those bullied kids know.  

A Real-Life Barbie (If It's Not An Oxymoron)

What does Barbie look like in real life?

Galia Saylen asked herself that question a few years ago.  Here she is, with her answer:

Delaware Inmate Fights For Name Change

In Delaware, as in many other US States, inmates are allowed to change their names only for religious purposes.

Now Governor Jack Markell is backing legislation that, if passed, would allow transgender prisoners to change their names.  However, there is no provision in the law for transferring detainees from facilities designated for their birth gender to those reserved for the gender by which they identify.

The, sponsored by Representative James "J.J." Johnson, comes after two courts in The First State blocked a name-change petition from  an inmate at the Baylor Women's Correctional Institution.  Lakisha Lavette Short, who is serving a 55-year sentence as a repeat offender, identifies as a man and wants to go by the name "Kai".  

Last August, Delaware State Supreme Court Judge Jane Brady,  in denying Short's petition, wrote that there is no fundamental right to change one's name.  She also wrote that the state has legitimate reasons to deny a name change because it "needs the ability to quickly and accurately identify people in prison and on parole". Moreover, she claimed, in essence, that  inmates seeking  name changes for religious reasons are "in a separate category" because of their First Amendment right to religious freedom.

American Civil Liberties Union lawyers working with Short are arguing that current Delaware law violates the Equal Protection Clause of the US Constitution because it allows prisoners to change their names for religious, but not any other, reasons.

An earlier version of Johnson's bill would have allowed for the transfer of prisoners from the a facility for one gender to a facility for the other.  That part was removed before the bill was introduced.

Two years ago, Governor Markell and other lawmakers approved legislation adding gender identity to the Diamond State's anti-discrimination laws.  Let's hope they can continue their good work.

Now It's Really A Women's College

What does it mean to be a "women's" or "female" college?

Not long ago--say, twenty or even fifteen years ago--almost anybody would have defined such a school (which were still called "girls' colleges" when I was in elementary school) as one that admitted only students whose birth certificates identified them as female.  And, I believe, very few people would have questioned such a definition or the policies derived from it.

Over the past few years, that's been changing.  Actually, most women's schools did not have clearly-articulated policies about gender, except to say that those who are born male are not eligible for admissions.  

A number of trans men have attended those schools.  Most lived as female during their days in those schools; a few transitioned to male and the schools,  to their credit, usually did what they could to support those men.  However, as more than one official is quick to point out, such a policy is not an endorsement of the mistaken notion that trans men are "really" women.

Still, until last year, none of the country's female-only schools was willing to admit someone who identifies as female but was born as male.  Mills College, in Oakland, CA, was the first to do so and to craft a "welcoming" policy for transgender women.  Mount Holyoke College soon followed.

Now Smith College has done likewise.  In doing so, the Massachusetts liberal-arts college has become the first "Seven Sisters" school to say it will consider applications from transgender women.  The move came after the school came under heavy criticism--and threats of withheld donations from alumnae--after it denied the application of Calliope Wong, a trans woman from Connecticut.  To be fair, when Ms. Wong applied, she was not yet legally recognized as female in her home state of Connecticut.  Still, she was--and is--living as a woman, and her situation generated a petition that gathered over 4000 signatures.

How long before the other Seven Sisters colleges--and other single-sex schools--follow the lead of Mills, Mount Holyoke and Smith?

 

Now You Can Be A Mx.--In England, Anyway

I identify as a woman.  Any time I'm asked for a salutation, I use "Ms.", in part because the titles "Mrs." and "Miss" seem both inappropriate for me and simply troublesome.  For one thing, I don't think a woman's salutation should announce her marital status if a man's doesn't signal his. For another, since I'm not married--and, were I to marry, I probably wouldn't take on my spouse's name--"Mrs." simply wouldn't make any sense.  And somehow "Miss" doesn't seem right for a woman of my age.

(In France, women "of a certain age" are usually referred to as "Madame", whether or not they are married.  Female salutations are used in similar ways in other cultures; i.e., "senora" and "senorita" in Spanish-speaking countries, and "signora" and "signorita" in Italy.)

Having said those things, I believe that a person should have the right not to identify as male or female.  Such a person should be allowed to create another gender identity, or not to have a gender identity at all.

Interestingly, some other countries are, in effect, allowing that.  Four years ago, an Australian  who goes only by the name Norrie was issued papers that say "Sex Not Specified."  As I understand, a few other people have received such papers.

Now people in the UK can get drivers' licenses and other official documents on which their names are preceded by "Mx."--which is usually pronounced as "Mux"--instead of "Ms.", "Mrs.", "Miss",  "Mr.", "Dr.", "Lord" or "Lady".  Royal Mail, the country's major banks, government agencies and some universities are now also acepting this title.  It even appears in the drop-down boxes of some online job applications and other forms.

It will be interesting to see whether the title is adopted here in the US.  I am old enough to remember the uproar over "Ms." when it first appeared.  Some people actually thought it was the end of civilization when the New York Times started using it in their articles in the late 1970's.  If Americans start to use "Mx>", how long will it take the Times to allow it onto their hallowed pages?

I also have to wonder how or whether other cultures that don't have an equivalent of "Ms>" will deal with "Mx."

Still Learning What It Means

Early in my transition, people would sometimes say, “Oh, it must be so difficult.”  By “it”, they meant my transition and the things it entailed.  While I admit that some parts of it were strange, awkward or simply a pain in the ass (Try going through a second puberty in your forties!), I would point out that, for me, the real difficulty was having to live up to society’s, and some individual peoples’, expectations while pretending to be someone I wasn’t. 

From the time I first started my counseling, therapy and hormones until the day I had my operation, a bit more than six years had passed.  Now it’s been almost six years since my operation.  Along the way, some of my expectations have changed.  I have found friends and allies in people I didn’t expect to be on my side, or whom I simply never could have anticipated meeting.  On the other hand, I have lost relationships with people whom I thought would walk with me, or at least lend some sort of emotional support and spiritual sustenance, on my journey. 

Probably every trans person can say such things.  Also, nearly every one of us (or, at least, the trans people I know) would agree that the sorts of people we become, and envision ourselves becoming, are at least somewhat different from what we’d anticipated when we were still living our former lives or when we started our transitions.  A few might be disappointed, but I think more—I include myself—feel the pressure of, and are ostracized for not,  living up to a new set of expectations.  Some expected that I would be more sexual and attractive, at least by the standards of this culture.  Physical attractiveness and sexuality (at least in a hetero way) are seen as the hallmarks of femininity and femaleness.  (I think it’s the other way around, frankly.)  Others thought they’d find cute boyfriends or girlfriends, or husbands or wives who could “treat them right”.  Still others are trying to live up to other sorts of expectations, whether self-imposed or transmitted by the culture. 

Me, I’m not looking for a romantic or sexual relationship right now.  I don’t feel I need it; I can live just fine with myself, thank you.  Living alone, with a couple of cats, is certainly better than abuse or the demands some put on people in relationships. And while I’m going to try (again) to lose some weight, I rather like what I see in the mirror. Sure, I’m aging a bit quicker than I would have liked, but I think I also see an emotional honesty and vulnerability I never before saw. Perhaps others have seen it, too:  These days, people I meet talk to me because, nearly all of them say, “You look like someone I can talk to.”

Those same people tell me they knew, looking at me, that I’d survived a thing or two.  If I do say so myself, I have.  And, while I may not be the deepest person in the world, I don’t think people—whatever else they might say about me—accuse me of being shallow.  Plus, they all know that I mean whatever I’m telling them but I’m not saying any of it to be mean.

In short, I am starting to understand, not only what’s changed, but what I’ve gained in my transition.  Although some things are still very difficult, I still have hope that things will get better—or, more precisely, I will be better able to navigate them.  I’m also realizing now that the things and people I’ve lost probably would have been lost whether or not I’d transitioned or had my operation.  We change, sometimes incrementally, sometimes dramatically. But change we do, as long as we’re living.  I have to remember that a dozen years have passed since I started my counseling and, as I mentioned, almost six since my operation.  In such time frames—and in shorter ones—things changed, whether in my expectations or perception of myself and others. I didn’t want to be the same person at 24 as I did at 18, or the same person at 36 as at 30.  So why shouldn’t the kind of woman I want to be change as well.  After all, let’s face it:  I couldn’t be, at my age, the kind of woman I envisioned when I was younger, even if I wanted to.

Here’s some advice I’d give to someone—especially a young person—starting a transition:  You’ll change, but not necessarily as a result of your transition or surgery (if you decide to undergo it). And sometimes your change is of a kind you hadn’t expected.  Understanding those things, from what I’ve experienced, a way to prevent regrets and disappointments, neither of which I have about my transition or surgery.  

This Says It All

Brevity has been called the soul of poetry.  It's also been called the soul of wit.

It might also be the soul of political and social messages. This ad on a London bus couldn't have made its point any better, or quicker:

From Patheos

 

Gays Caused The Baltimore Riots. Bill Flores Says So.

Let's see...Gay people (which, in the minds of many, still include trans folk) have been blamed for Superstorm Sandy, Hurricane Irene and other natural disasters...the Benghazi attacks...the Newtown school shootings and other massacres...and...

...the riots in Baltimore.  Silly me.  I thought they were a reaction to the death of Freddie Gray.  Hmm...Here I was, thinking that people were (rightly) upset that another young black man in a racially divided city (and country) died while in police custody.  

It takes a greater mind than my own to understand, let alone explain, the slippery slope from allowing same-sex marriage to arson and looting in the streets. So I will let the estimable Bill Flores, a Republican (what else?) Representative from Texas, enlighten us:

https://soundcloud.com/rightwingwatch/flores-links-gay-marriage-to-baltimore-riots

Rachel Bryk: A Trans Woman Driven To Suicide

As I have mentioned in other posts, friends and acquaintances of mine have committed suicide.  Although I have felt--and sometimes still feel--sadness over losing them and anger over their absence, I never could condemn any of them.  For one thing, I went through years--decades--in which not a day passed without my contemplating my own self-inflicted end.  So I understand, at least somewhat, despair.  For another, I have learned that just about everybody has a limit--almost never self-imposed--on how much physical or emotional pain or anguish he or she can endure.  Of course, some people have more tolerance for such things than others, but some people are also given burdens to bear that most other people can't understand.

For some, no amount of love and support from family, friends and others can ease the suffering.  That is the reason why, so often, when someone takes his or her own life, there seems to be a chorus of people lamenting how esteemed or even loved that person was.  Those very same mourners wonder what they did or didn't do for the one who just ended his or her existence.

But then there are the ones who, knowing someone else's vulnerability, will do whatever they can to push that person over the edge.  It can be simple harassment.  Or it might be something more serious, like spreading false rumors about the person to cause him or her to lose a job, housing or to experience some other kind of life disruption.

Then there is the lowlife who wrote, "DO IT, if you're such a weak willed thin skinned (sic) dipshit, then fucking do it" in response to someone who wrote about killing herself in an online forum.  "Good riddance," responded another alleged human.

The woman who wrote about killing herself was in constant, intense pain from fibromyalgia and rheumatoid arthritis.  And she was transgendered.

Although Rachell Bryk's mother believes that the constant pain and the rejection she received as a result of her disabilities are what drove her to jump off the George Washington Bridge, messages found on her computer described some of the online bullying she experienced.

Now, I've experienced online bullying from Dominick, who--among other things--sent me an e-mail that said he would make my life so miserable that it would "make living in a cardboard box seem good".  And he sent out e-mails claiming that I committed all of the crimes transphobes and the simply ignorant believe trans people do as a matter of course.  He did other things, too, because he was angry over ending a relationship he always claimed--while we were together--meant nothing to him. 

All of that was bad enough.  But how much more difficult would it have been for me to deal with those things had I been in constant physical pain?

Whatever the truth is about Rachel's situation, I can only hope that if there is indeed anything after this life, that it does not include the pain and torture she experienced while she was here.

 

Queensboro Plaza Dawn

Having an early morning class means, as often as not, being sleep-deprived, both for me and my students.

There are rewards, though:  Students in such classes tend to be a bit more dedicated than those in mid-afternoon classes.  Also, riding to work early can be a very pleasant experience, especially when you're out before the rush-hour traffic and people are walking their dogs--or themselves--rather than rushing to the train or bus.

And then there are the air, light and the relative overall calm of the dawn (or, during the winter, pre-dawn).  Gertrude Stein once said that every great artist she encountered was up before dawn or slept until noon.  I can well understand the former when I see the play of the light of the rising sun on the colors and shapes of a landscape, wherever it may be.

Perhaps "Queensboro Plaza Dawn" doesn't have quite the ring of "Chelsea Morning".  But it offers a vista that, although grittier, is as vivid as the moment Joni Mitchell portrays in her song.  And both are equally transcendent and ephemeral.

Marching For What?

Isn't it funny that when people want to "defend" "marriage", they almost always are talking about one kind of marriage to the exclusion of the others.

Such was the case at the "March for Marriage" held the other day in Washington, DC.

When New York State legalized same-sex marriage in June of 2011, four of the Senate's Republicans voted for it.  In doing so, they joined all except one of the Senate's Democrats. 

Guess who was at the March?  Right...the Senate Democrat, none other than Ruben Diaz Sr., a Pentecostal minister.  (Now, what was that about separation of church and state?)  He was joined by a contagion of conservative clergy people from his native Bronx, which City Council member Ritchie Torres (who represents part of it) calls "the Bible Belt of New York City".

Some people may genuinely believe that God (or Allah or whomever) deemed that marriage is a relationship of one man and one woman for the purpose of procreation.  However, I get the feeling that too many other people--including, I suspect, many in the March--simply don't want gays or other people to have the same rights they have, just as certain white people didn't want racial equality because it would strip them of whatever social and economic superiority they enjoyed vis-à-vis blacks.

Then there are those who seem confused about what it is they're marching for:

Her sign reads:  "People are designed to be seeing and hearing and with all body parts intact and 'Tab A fits Slot B' perpetuates the species.

OK. So is she saying that blind or deaf people--or amputees-- shouldn't be allowed to marry?  And what's that about 'Tab A' and 'Slot B'?  Is she telling us that sex, reproductive or otherwise, is just a matter of getting one piece to fit into another, like a puzzle?
 

More About Bruce Jenner

According to the Corey's comment on my post yesterday, and Diana's post on her blog, we didn't have to wait for the future:  There has, apparently, been more consternation over Bruce Jenner's Republican Party affiliation than over anything else revealed in the interview with Diane Sawyer.

I am definitely with Diana on this issue.  Like her, I simply cannot understand how any LGBT person supports the "Grand Old Party".  

Once, when I was  at the LGBT Community Center of New York for some even or another, the Log Cabin Republicans were having a "meet and greet". I bumped into a few of them and they tried to recruit me--why, I don't know.  I must say, they were all pleasant, polite and well-spoken.  But they also looked like GQ covers come to life, with the credit card limits to match. So, as nice as they were to me, I simply couldn't relate to them, personally or politically.


I take part of that statement back.  I could tell that they were trying to mask, forget or simply live through some sort of pain or loss.  The difference between them and me--aside from the fact that they were gay men and I'm not--is that they had (or, at least seemed to have) more means to deal with whatever they lost, gave up or had taken from them as a result of their living openly as gay men.  You can't (or, at least, shouldn't) hate someone for that.  Instead, we can only respect and, to the degree that we can, support each other in our pain and loss.  

I have lost more than some, but not as much as some others.  The point is, as Diana says, we all go into the unknown when we "come out" or transition and, as Mara Keisling wrote in a CNN money article, every one of us loses something, and some lose everything.

Yes, Bruce Jenner has money and fame.  But she has, like the rest of us, lost a lot of time and experiences in living as someone other than her true self.  She says she didn't transition sooner because she didn't want to disappoint people who saw her as a role model of manhood.  Trying not to disappoint--which almost inevitably is a losing battle--is in itself a loss.  So is the joy she probably didn't experience from her accomplishments.  

So, while I don't support her politics, I support her journey.  That is all any of us can do for each other.

The Interview: Bruce Jenner

If you’re a trans person, your friends, family , co-workers and other acquaintances are probably talking to you about last night’s Big Event:  Diane Sawyer interviewing Bruce Jenner.

Some have said that Jenner’s “coming out” is a “tipping point” for public awareness and,  possibly, acceptance of transgender people.  For one thing, very few people who were as famous in their own right have publicly transitioned.  (Although he’s gained something of a reputation as an LGBT rights activist, Chaz Bono is known mainly for having famous parents.)  For another, everyone knew Jenner as the rugged and handsome (at least when he was young) Olympic gold-medal winner and actor.  And, as the twice-married media star revealed to Sawyer,  as a male he was never attracted to other males and now considers herself “asexual”.

In other words, the interview should help people to understand, as Jenner said, that gender identity is separate from sexual orientation—or, for that matter, proscribed gender roles.   Although most people thought Chastity Bono was a cute kid, most didn’t think of her as a “girly” girl.  When she “came out” as a lesbian, she fit the image of a “butch”, albeit a more glamorous version.  Thus, it didn’t challenge many people’s notions about trans people when Chastity announced she was going to become a man named Chaz.

That is not to say that Chaz’s public transition was not courageous.  In its own way, it might have been even more daring than Jenner’s because, even though only five years have passed since Sonny and  Cher’s daughter became their son, public awareness—and, I’d say, acceptance—of trans people has grown by leaps and bounds.  I’d say that we’re experiencing something like what gay men (and, to a lesser extent, lesbians) experienced during the years just after the Stonewall Rebellion. 

To be sure, there was still a lot of ignorance and hate that too often ended up in rejection and violence—as there is now.   But by the time the AIDS epidemic broke out, almost everyone in the Western world knew that he or she had a family member, friend, co-worker or other acquaintance who was gay.   As a result, people realized that being gay wasn’t a “choice” or a sign of depravity and much of the stigma around it faded.  To be sure, there are still folks showing up at funerals of murdered gay people with signs that say “God Hates Fags”, just as there are still people who say that we—trans people—aren’t human beings.  But such people are becoming the minority and, I hope, with people like Jenner going public, their numbers will shrink further. 

Who knows?  Perhaps in the not-too-distant future,  some celebrity will cause less consternation by saying, “For all intents and purposes, I am a woman” than for saying that she is a Republican! ;-)

What Hate Does To Us

Marissa Guthrie at Do Something created this:

Making LaHaye When He Hates

Was this a Freudian slip?:

"The Christian community needs a penetrating book on homosexuality."

"Penetrating"?  Hmm...What does that word choice tell us about the writer of that sentence?

Said author is Tim LaHaye. Yes, that Tim LaHaye. Actually, he was quoting someone with similar views, but that LaHaye used it as a rationale for--and in the beginning of--his book The Unhappy Gays still, I think, confirms something I've long suspected about him and lots of other "Christian" homophobes.

More to the point, the esteemed Mr. LaHaye took it upon himself to explain homosexuals for likeminded people, i.e., those who use their religious beliefs as a smokescreen for their bigotry.  He's the sort of person who's articulate enough to explain to people what they can't explain about people they hate, but--not surprisingly--not honest enough to call that hate what it is.

I remember reading The Unhappy Gays not long after it came out.  I was in college and had joined a campus Christian fellowship for all sorts of reasons, all of which had to do with my inability--at that time--to understand, let alone articulate or deal with things I'd felt for as long as I could remember.  I actually "came out" as gay because, frankly, I didn't know what else I was.  Some members of the fellowship said they would pray for me, and I don't doubt they did.  At least they didn't try to "cure" me by fixing me up with sisters or other females they knew.  And being around them spared me from a lot of those campus activities that begin with alcohol and end with rape.

Still, I knew I wasn't one of them.  I didn't see anything the way they did.  No matter how much some tried to include me, I knew I ultimately couldn't be a part of their world, any more than I would be part of the world of white picket fences.

And from other people I faced outright exclusion and rejection.  Ironically, La Haye cited such rejection as one of the reasons for the "intense anger that churns through even the most phlegmatic homosexual". Although he was wrong to categorize all gays as angry, he did understand that rejection makes people angry.  And although I didn't fit most of the stereotypes he claimed to be elucidating for his audience, I knew I was angry--or, at least, unhappy.

Not to make excuses for myself, but what else could I have been, really?  However, rejection was only part of the reason why.  Most important, I think, was that I was someone I couldn't understand and didn't ask to be.  Like anyone else one who's born different from other people, I didn't start off thinking I wasn't worthy of the things most people wanted and enjoyed.  But, like too many who are "minorities" or outcasts, I absorbed the subtle and not-so-subtle messages that I wasn't worthy.  Those same people and institutions that sent us those messages were also the very ones who stigmatized us for not achieving what they achieved in the areas of relationships and even careers.  

Anyway, it's because LaHaye understood that much that he was able to say he was being "compassionate" toward homosexuals.  You know, in a "love the sin, hate the sinner" sort of way. Not surprisingly, he thought that because God loves us, all we had to do was to accept that love and we'd be "saved".  From what?  Our "sin".  And for what?  "Eternal life", or some such thing.   

I got to thinking about all of this after a seeing a post on the Patheos Atheist Newsletter today.  The author of that post outlined some of the lies found in LaHaye's book.  That post is definitely worth reading.  If nothing else, it offer you some insights into some of the things Christian "fundamentalists" say about gay (and trans) people--and how much worse they were in 1978.