When ever I see someone holding a sign that says something like God Hates Fags I get pissed. So pissed that my eyeballs bleed. I want to beat the crap out of that hatemonger. But I don’t. I just close my eyes take a deep breath and call Scott. Like always he answers his phone. What’s up?
Scott is my brother. He is also gay. But that’s not all he is. He’s lots of other things. Especially to me.
He’s the one who at eight became my protector. I was five. Our parents divorced and Scott got sole custody of me. He woke me up for school. Fed me. Made sure I didn’t look like a geek when I left. He’s the one who, when Mom would disappear for days at a time and leave us with no food or money, would cut the neighbor’s grass for some cash. He held my hand as we walked to the drugstore lunch counter. He made certain I never starved. He signed all my report cards too.
Scott was my playmate. My teacher. My wake up guy when I had nightmares. He rode the greyhound with me to go visit Dad. Twelve hours. He stayed awake so we wouldn’t miss the connection in Jacksonville. May I remind you? He was eight the first time?
He threw himself between me and Mom’s boozy boyfriend. He shopped. He cooked. He made me help keep the house clean. He taught me how to drive a stick shift.
Scott and I went to college together. He helped me get my first apartment. And a decent job. We graduated the same quarter. When I married Sweet Husband he was best man. And caterer. When I was pregnant with my first child Scott threw the damned best baby shower ever. When Sweet Husband and I moved across country Scott helped us move. Across country.
When we moved back across country Scott helped me paint our new house. For my birthdays he’d give me the day off and watch my herd of kids. He’s never missed an important occasion in my family. He’s been here for every birthday, graduation, and celebration we’ve had.
My kids adore Scott.
When Dad was dying it was Scott who organized the shifts in the hospice. There he sat. Holding Dad’s hand. Dad who never did acknowledge Scott’s sexuality. Like it was too awful to speak about. Scott just sat there. Helping Dad go.
When Mom died Scott grieved terribly. He was her protector too. She was his job. It’s like he had let her down by letting her die. I won’t even go into how much of his life was spent doing Mom’s job.
My parents brought five children into this world. Scott and I are the youngest. Judy, Debby, Mike, Scott-n-Sally. Scott-n-Sally. That’s how everyone we know addresses us. Like it’s one name, not two. As in: Do Scott-n-Sally know what time we are meeting up? Did anyone call Scott-n-Sally? It’s always been this way. Always will be.
We are not really that much alike, Scott and I. Physically you might not recognize us as siblings. He’s tall and dark. I’m neither. He’s a musician. I’m a jock. There are other differences. I’m loud and bossy. He’s gentle and kind. I get really pissed off. He will generally get even. I could go on and on. I think we are the Yen and Yang of our family. One heart split between two bodies.
Our significant others understand our relationship. Sweet Husband, when I get upset, will say call your brother. Not because he doesn’t want to help. It’s just that he knows Scott will get it. Without me having to explain from the start. Scott’s partner, I call him The Brain, will phone me. Take your brother on a walk today. He needs you. Okay, no questions asked.
Scott and I are each other’s anchor. When our pasts, presents, or futures blow gale force winds and threaten to tear us apart we keep each other grounded. When our form of crazy rears it’s ugly head we turn toward the other and say let’s take a walk. And then Scott-n-Sally put leashes on the dogs and take a long hike in the forest. It never hurts.
So Mister and/or Missus Hate Monger. You think your God hates this gentle, smart, funny man? I beg to differ. God created Scott just perfect. My God loves the hell out of Scott.
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Comments
In high school, Fred Phelps (google him if you want your eyeballs to bleed), the guy with the "God Hates Fags" signs, wrote a letter to my town's (gay) mayor and a letter to the editor of our paper talking about how my tiny little red town in a blue state was a den of sin because we had the audacity to elect a responsible, kind, committed, non-corrupt (gay) mayor. Fred Phelps and his gaggle of crazies announced that they were going to protest at the Mayor's Cup, a summer family celebration involving a sailboat race (Plattsburgh NY is the town, if you're into little towns with sailboat races)
Anyway, my little red town went into an uproar, churches refused to allow them to protest on their property and all the churches of every denomination in the town wrote a joint letter to the editor condemning Phelps' actions and methods. Everyone was worried about children reading these horrible signs, so volunteers showed up in angel costumes with massive white wings and shielded all the Mayor's Cup visitors from the hate.
One of my friends came out while I was in high school, and we went to the mall to see a movie on a weekend--people from his school, but people that I KNEW, spat "fag" at him when we walked by. I grabbed his hand, but he just laughed and shook it off. I cried when I got home.
My point is, I guess, that while our eyeballs are bleeding, there are lots of people out there who are trying to make things right and protect us from the hate. And a lot of the time they don't succeed, but people are trying...there's still hope that some day it won't be so horrible. But we have to be there to put on the big white wings and hold some hands, and we will be as long as it takes. :)
Excuse the long comment...it's just a testament to an inspiring post.
rated
I am so tired of gay bashing. I'm proud of your bro. He sounds like a real sweetheart. take care of him. I will remember this post.
I've tried to talk sense with some radical "gay-bashers"- big mistake. But I couldn't help myself.
A mentor of mine was the most wonderful, beautiful human on the face of the planet- he was a gay man (I say "was" because he died of cancer a few years ago)- and I think of him every time people start shouting their nonsense. I get so angry, but what can you do? Only what you do- close your eyes and take a deep breath.
And then the argument about gay parents? I truly try to "see" other's point of view when I disagree, but.... nope. A friend of mine raised 4 girls with her partner- and those kids turned out better than any other teenagers I've ever known! People just can't seem to see people for who they are- people. Everything is about labels and it robs the world of everything.
Just to top this off, we have a gay brother and I'm his Scott too. He found a life partner we couldn't love more. Someday. We all keep saying. Someday. Until then, gay, straight, just words. It's the people who count.
And I'm always glad to see a fellow Atlanta-area red-county sububanite who really gets it.
Thanks for this lovely post.
Ahhh humor. It's one of the best coping skills I know. No one gets your jokes like a sibling.
Now I've found you and your blog. Now I'm richer than I was yesterday.
Re: Fred Phelps. I have a special dislike for this gentleman and his ilk -- their hatred borders almost on the comical... seriously, they're like a bad SNL sketch of gay bashers... except that the results are often less than humorous. I was very happy when the Westboro Baptist Church got the 11 million dollar verdict last year for their hateful disregard for a grieving family's privacy... not that it will stop them, but still... it was nice to see.
Fuck those people who are so insecure they gotta shit on others.
Bump for the bro.
He's so alarmingly talented that I feel like a little brown bird.
He's been HIV for about 15 years now...and it looks like he will live a lot longer, thanks to modern science....other than some facial wasting, he is in perfect shape.
....Normal, simple, civil rights for gays, such as the right to get married, are a passionate pursuit of mine, tho he had little to do with the influence of that in me.
He is the only person I wish I were more ..like. As kind, compassionate, funny, brilliant, talented....I have kinda worshipped him forever.
We all do.
I adored this post.
And Fred Phelps can suck my fat one.
Denise: It boggles the mind, no? Bump id ee bump bump. Thanks.
Jacqueline: I think it's my duty to promote more "Scottness" in this world.
Dips: I don't wanna make you cry. Celebrate the sibs!
My nephew, one hell of a fantastic human being, on the short track to getting his Ph.D. at the tender age of 25 is someone I rave about. And when my stupid ignoramus of a brother spouts off to me how I probably influenced me due to my liberal boulder leftist ungodly leanings, I just want to deck him. Fantastic post.
You sure know how to pick a title for your posts. I've had that song stuck in my head since reading this last night...only now it sings "...my gay brother"- and it rolls! I nominate it for a protest song.
It becomes second nature to resist those people, not just for one's own defense, but also for the sake of the many people who suffer at their hands.
I think Fred Phelps is in for a big surprise when he goes to meet his god.
Scott hangs out at the far extreme end of the mean-nice continuum, and I am so happy that you had the good luck of drawing him for a brother.
Scott-n-Sally...remarkable.
So you two just take that walk ... it won't hurt and it will definitely help ... and hopefully someday ... in our own time ... we won't see ignorance and hatred around every corner.
Thumbs-up Sister!!!
In Colorado Springs we have the pleasure (not) of having the WBC people just a state line away. They frequently spout their shit here, and seem to think that their insane way of expressing themselves is going to get people to follow them. I am all for free speech, but I think there should be an ignorance clause.
You wrote a beautiful and poignant piece, and are a credit to yourself, your brother and the human race. He is a great human being.
I don't know why God created gays. He doesn't ask or consult me about such decisions. Nor does he ask anyone elses opinion when He creates gays, or the religious whack-jobs who spew out so much hate. He just does these things.
Maybe it's mean spirited of me to say, but I hope these, so called religious, people get their just deserts, some kind of come-uppance for their self righteousness.
Someday the world will be a better place, I hope. People like you, gracielou, and the other people on this forum are what keep me going, and hoping!
Krissi: Now that we have a song we just need a movement. Some cool clothes, a megaphone, a few million people...
Seriously, brother love is great, no?
bobr: When I joined the OS a couple of weeks ago I had no idea that there were this many great people out there. Seriously. I need to get out more. Back to subject. Ya know, wouldn't it be great if God DID ask me or you about stuff? After ridding the world of hate, world hunger and war I'd want to put my two cents in about reality tv.
Curious to see how Obama will deal with DOMA and whether is his stance on gay marriage will change now that he is elected.
However..... I must defend reality TV. That was a European import (Big Brother et al.), so blame them. Also, try some of the Bravo offerings (Top Chef, Project Runway) to experience some less annoying examples of the genre.
Gotta tell ya tho, not feeling ya on Project Runway, et al. (that's southern for at all). I'm kinda sick of all the "real" people. I want escape from all the real people. I'm tired of seeing the housewives of Atlanta, all the MTV fakie-fakie idiots, and I couldn't care a rat's ass about Hugh Hefner's girls. Just sayin....
Thanks for stopping by. I've read your blog and befriended you. Looking forward to more.
I worked for 3 months as the therapist on an HIV+/chemical dependency/homeless/mental illness stabilization unit. A lot of the guys who were gay felt very negatively about themselves. They'd talk about god and the bible and how it's an abomination. And though I'm not in any way shape or form a christian, I learned to talk the talk down there in Houston, and I'd tell them "God don't make no trash." Really, if god is so omniscient and all-powerful, certainly he wouldn't make a mistake like that, so it must be intentional. Sometimes, it actually helped.
WBC is staging a protest here in Portland at PSU next week, because of the Queer Resource Center, the inclusion
of sexual orientation and gender identity in PSU's Equal Opportunity and Nondiscrimination Policy, and PSU's gender-neutral bathrooms. Students and others are being encouraged NOT to engage with the protesters and are instead invited to a rally one block away that intends to promote a positive message. What they'll do when Phelps et al move down there to harass them, I don't know.
First of all, they're not from Portland, or even Oregon--what fucking business is it of theirs if we choose to be more enlightened up here? Second, from run-ins with the clan at a couple Gay Pride parades when I lived in San Diego, I know first hand that it is almost impossible NOT to engage with them--as someone else said, it's useless, but you can't resist it when they're saying such virulent, hateful things.
It should be interesting. :)
Thank you for your work. And for who you are.
paula
Surely we can love harder than they can hate....