February 16, 2005
This morning I was doing my walk/morning meditation, and zipping rather unconcientiously through Steps 1-3, concentrated on what ideas I might actually pitch at this afternoon’s interview with Being Alive. One of them was concerning how to combat homophobia in communities of color, as the taboo that surrounds HIV is often directly related to the secrecy that stalks homosexuality in those populations. Many woman of color, for example, are infected by boyfriends and husbands who conduct male-to-male relationships on the sly, and unsurprisingly, HIV is often the product of the accompanying coversion and denial.
There is the playground of a boy’s high school directly across from Andrea’s apartment, bordered by a high concrete wall. Suddenly a mid-sized white ball, (lacrosse?) comes flying over the barrier, landing almost at my feet. I hear a collective groan rise up for the players, as the wall is too tall to climb, and retrieving the ball would entail a long trip around the block. So, of course I toss it back over the wall, to a cacophony of "Thank-yous!" I can’t say whether the voices were black or hispanic, to be honest I suspect they were coming from a students of a yeshiva, but considering how closety they are, I take it as a sign nonetheless that I was on the right track. Especially as the ball grazed my God-tree, that I talk to those mornings the sun is not out.
Not to say your garden-variety gay white man isn’t’t needful of some revived discussion on this issue as well. Last night we heard a speaker in AA who discussed growing up "in a cornfield" in Ohio, and finding himself in a state of so much anxiety and despair by the time he discovered alcohol at 14 that he drank himself into a detox center by 18. His drinking and drugging, unfortunately, continued in horror story fashion until he was past 30. In the question-and answer period after his share, I asked if he could shed light on why he thought he was in such despair at the tender age of 14 (he hadn’t discussed his childhood/family circumstances at all), and whether he thought internalized homophobia played a role. He thought for a moment, and said "no, I don’t think so."
The problem, in my view, is almost less the internalized homophobia gay men suffer from, than the lack of awareness that we suffer from it. You can’t get the elephant out of the room until you see it. But it is there.
Wish me luck this afternoon. Do not say "Break a leg" That’s for the theater. (In France, before a big test, they tell you "Merde!" (Shit!).
So, "Merde" to me!
MCO 2005
