Sunday afternoons seem to be a good time to reflect on the week. To be blunt most of this week would have been smoother if I had been walking through the gates of hell. Several key tools in my life died, including my mom's scooter and my laptop. In case you are wondering, both are expensive to resusitate. However, yesterday was a breath of fresh air.

For the first time in my life, I went to the gay pride parade and festival. It was sooo much fun. Granted, every time a few thousand folks gather, a few nut jobs show their colors. Overall, it was delightful. I rushed us to arrive early enough to get a "good seat" for the parade. On the grand scheme of things, the parade was pitiful. Yet, it took me back to my childhood, where on the last Saturday in September we would get up early and rush to downtown Hephzibah to watch the "Country Fair" parade. After the parade, every southern gospel group, clogging troup, and belly-dancing accordion player would perform as old friends ate meat-on-a-stick and shouted, "hey, it's good to see you. How is your moma and them?' The two parades were eeriely similar.

I often try to forget the days in that tiny community where racial slurs were as common as hay bales. However, so much of who I am grew out of the traditions and communal nature of the rural south. I attended an all white, private, independent, Baptist elementary school where the Bible was used as science text, but today I have a knowledge and love of scripture that nourishes my weary soul. A church youth leader once told a group of us that black people were different and should be treated accordingly, but at that moment I learned that sometimes you have to stand up and walk out. I walked in pro-life fundraisers with other church youth, but today I know the power of coming together for a common cause. This same community taught me the value of showing up when folks were ill or had experienced a death in the family. My mother put a funeral ham in the freezer every time that they went on sale, and I thought that every child did homework in the break room of the local funeral home.

Looking back, the community I experienced at the gay pride festival is the much the same as the community that I experienced as a youth. We need each other, we like to eat and play together, we want someone to watch out for the 'crazies' and show up at funerals, but most of all we want someone to know our name and ask about our moma and them.

Too old for this...

This weekend my fiance took me to see the Indigo Girls in Charlotte. Little did we know that we would end up standing against the stage. The tickets were described as theatre in the round - they left off the part about the absence of chairs in the round. Nonetheless it was an amazing concert.

Sappy is not a word that I have ever used to describe myself. But, there was something about being out in a predominantly lesbian crowd that brought out the sappiness in me. I must also admit that it forced me to face my own prejudices. Many of you know that I have been scared of lesbians for years - I know, I know, I was avoiding my own sexuality. This was the first time that I had been around more than one or two other gay folks since I came out. It was amazing and nurturing. I also was able to face my preconceived notion that all lesbian couples have butch and femme roles, except for us - we are both somewhere in the middle, as were most of the couples at the concert. I'm a bit embarrassed to be writing about this, but I suspect that I am not the only person with these thoughts.

I love the Indigo Girls for their powerful lyrics. Today, the song, "Let it be me" seems particularly timely. I will end with these words:

Sticks and stones
Battle zones
A single light bulb
On a single thread for the black
Sirens wail
History fails
Rose-colored glass
Begins to age and crack
While the politicians shadowbox
The power ring
In an endless split decision
Never solve anything
From a neighbors distant land
I heard the strain of the common man

Let it be me
(this is not a fighting song)
Let it be me
(not a wrong for a wrong)
Let it be me
If the world is night
Shine my life like a light

Well the world seems spent
And the president
Has no good idea
Of who the masses are
Well Im one of them
And Im among friends
Were trying to see beyond
The fences in our own backyards
Ive seen the kingdoms blow
Like ashes in the winds of change
But the power of truth
Is the fuel for the flame
So the darker the ages get
Theres a stronger beacon yet

Let it be me
(this is not a fighting song)
Let it be me
(not a wrong for a wrong)
Let it be me
If the world is night
Shine my life like a light

In the kind word you speak
In the turn of the cheek
When your vision stays clear
In the face of your fear
Then you see turning out a light switch
Is their only power
When we stand like spotlights
In a mighty tower
All for one and one for all
Then we sing the common call

Let it be me
(this is not a fighting song)
Let it be me
(not a wrong for a wrong)
Let it be me
If the world is night
Shine my life like a light.

May I know my neighbors, may you see beyond the fence in your backyard, may we sing the common call. Let it begin with me.

Looking Back

I celebrated my 32^nd birthday yesterday. I have been showered with cards and notes from wonderful friends and finished the evening with a nice romantic dinner.

As I reflect on the past year, I see much personal growth and professional development. I am sooooo much more comfortable in my own skin than I was a year ago. In many ways this blog has helped me through the journey - with the assistance of a decent therapist.

During the past year:

1. I traveled cross-county to Sedona and the Grand Canyon.

2. I had my first forthright conversation with my birth mother.

2. I now know my birth father’s name.

4. I cried in public.

5. I reexamined my own view of tolerance.

6. I “came out” to close friends.

7. I met the love of my life (ok, so I am a cheese factory).

8. Then, I “came out” to my mother.

9. We both survived.

10. I finished remodeling my house.

11. I experienced a different approach to family in the still birth of my niece.

12. I got engaged.

13. The Augusta Chronicle published my letter to the editor.

14. I woke up one day and realized that I am happy – not just content – but happy.

Perhaps the year is best summed up by this quote (from Sept 2007 post):

Be patient to all that is unsolved in your heart and learn to love the questions themselves, like looked rooms and books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. - Rainer Marie Rilke

But, my age is sneaking up on me: I saw a church sign this weekend that said "Hannah, Ike, and Josephine please stay away." I thought that the Church was horribly mean. Then someone told me about the hurricanes...

Weekend Musings

Last night I went to see a community production of Fiddler on the Roof. I often hate musicals and keep the program handy to see how long I must endure. But, last night was different. We had 2nd row seats and the cast was wonderful - with the exception of one nervous cast member who vomited in the middle of crowd scene- but moving right along...

I was unfamiliar with the production and found myself enamored with the story. The questioning of tradition, the love of family, and the perplexities of faith that the characters dealt with in this 1905 story parallels so much of my own story. I, too, am entrenched in tradition and love of family, yet my life's path enters into new territory that is - at times - scary for all of us. Like the young brides in Fiddler, I know that love matters and that while I want my parent's blessing, I dare not ask for permission. (In some ways this is a moot point, my father is deceased and my mother teeters on the wall of dementia). In her own way, my mother has offered her blessing and I have not shared my recent joys with other family members.

My faith journey is a bit more comfortable. Coming out sparked an internal revival. In the words of Christ, "you shall know the truth and the truth will set you free." I have been liberated from spiritual stagnation and released to experience love and grace in a new manner. I have also been "filled up" to the point of being able to engage in ministry again. Praise be to god.

Today I am also grateful for my family of choice - a rag-tag band of travelers who walk this journey with me. I celebrate the upcoming addition of 2 new Ethiopian nieces. I thank god for the gift of community that has been given to a gay college student cousin. I cherish the time spent this afternoon laughing and playing with young highschool boys. Intentional family. Intentional ministry.