Carpe Diem

I remember as a young man watching the movie Ordinary People. In the movie, towards the end, the boy's mother leaves his father. The boy's father looks at his son and says, "Don't put too much stock in people. They'll disappoint you." It's true. Most people I've come across in life have been a disappointment to me. The movie had a strong impression on me because at the time I saw it, I was going through a lot of the same feelings the boy in the movie was going through.

At the time I watched that movie, I had moved to San Mateo, California from Idaho, with Kent. Kent was attending Stanford University in Palo Alto. I got a job working for the College of Notre Dame in Belmont California.

It was a Catholic school. I was very closeted at the time and was therefore able to keep my job at the school. It also offered me some flexibility in the hours I worked. I was studying to be a musician at the time. It allowed me to practice during some mornings and not show up for work until 10:00am. In return for this, I had to do my job, of course, and when controversial subjects such as gay rights or abortion came up, I kept my mouth shut.

It was during this time that San Francisco Supervisor Harvey Milk and San Francisco Mayor George Moscone were assassinated by Supervisor Dan White. Harvey, being an openly gay man, came up in the course of discussion among the staff at the college. Most felt that it was terrible that the Mayor was killed, but others felt that Harvey's life was not worth so much because he was a homosexual. I said nothing. One woman that I worked with who was married with three kids said with disgust, "Well, I'm sure that both men wanted to keep their lives! What White did was wrong!" I was thankful that she had the courage to say what I could not say. She could get away with saying it because she was Catholic and obviously not a homosexual. I didn't want to loose my job because we both needed this job.

I was also deeply depressed at the time. My ego was non-existent. I was even wondering if there was a reason for going on. I couldn't be myself. I hated what I was. I remember going to the library at the college. All the books dealing with homosexuality were on the top shelves so you had to ask to see them, and judging from the titles that I could see, none of them painted homosexuality in a good light. Also, I noticed that just being in that section that people were looking at me in a funny way.

Finally, I left that section. I went to another section dealing with depression. I remember checking this book out and I remember the exact title, because the title described exactly how I was feeling. The title was "Hopelessness". I checked it out, and as I was leaving, the girl behind the counter who was a student looked at me and said, "I hope it gets better." I don't know why she said that to me, unless I was wearing the emotion on my face. I responded, "I don't think this is going to get better. She replied, "I'm sorry." I left.

I would sit in their garden which was very nice, for hours, wondering what my future would be, if I had one. I would meditate and tell myself that I had some purpose in the world and that despite being homosexual, my life was worth living, although, I didn't honestly believe that. That was the place I was in. Some student on campus once said, "Homosexuals are going to hell." I blurted out without thinking that I might give away my cover, as though I knew what I was talking about, "Perhaps they are already living in Hell on this earth."

That was what life was like then, not only for me, but many young gay people, and it wasn't that long ago. The suicide rate was high, and no one really cared because we were hated. But it was a different kind of hate. It's the kind that Oscar Wilde experienced. It was the "love that dare not speak it's name". Everyone despised it and in their silence and reluctance to talk about what "those people" were going through, it only added to the disgust that people felt for homosexuals. You think those days are gone? Have you looked lately at the political landscape in places like Georgia, Ohio, Kansas, Idaho, Missouri, Virginia, just to name a few places in this country?

We moved to San Francisco. I realized that the only way I could live was to feel better about myself. And, in San Francisco, I was around people like myself - outcasts from society. Many had been kicked out of their homes. Many fled to San Francisco for safety; safety from their families and society. Many just wanted to have people around who cared and were going through the same thing. It was the beginning of an awakening for me. I started to learn who and what I was. I started to learn that the true evil wasn't me. The true evil was ignorance and the lack of willingness to learn from others.

Today I tell young people who are depressed and wanting to give up that I do understand. I also understand that in the place they are at, my words do little for them. They are consumed with self-hatred and depression. I can only tell them, that if they will give life a chance, it can be very good. I'm glad I didn't give up. I would have missed so much.

Today, I still get depressed at times. The difference from today and when I was young, is that the depression isn't consuming. It is also a different kind of depression. I get depressed because people cannot see us for what we are. They still want to hold on to old beliefs about our community. You know, they used to say that homosexuals lacked the ability to form lasting relationships, as though it was a mental illness. Many still think it is a mental illness. But today, we are in a fight for gay marriage. Now, their arguments have changed. They no longer say that we are unable to form lasting relationships, they now say that the "sanctity of marriage" must be protected. If I were a preacher, I would say something along these lines:

It seems to me that we tell homosexuals that they are unable to form lasting relationships, and when they do, we tell them that they shouldn't form lasting relationships. It seems to me that homosexuals are damned if they do and damned if they don't.

So where are we at today? Today, we are claiming what is ours. We are claiming our slice of the pie. People are responding, "how dare they?". We dare to do this because people like me are sick and tired of being.... sick and tired. We are sick of the crap we have been fed all our lives to keep us down. We are sick of feeling like we are sick. We are sick of others making us feel like we are less for their own gain, morally and politically.

We are exposing the truth of what we are and what we want. We want equality. Absolutely nothing less will be adequate. Not just for marriage. We want to feel whole. We want to feel like this is our life too, this is our nation, this is our world. We love our friends, we are committed to our partners, we are committed to our families, and we are not only going to show the world what we are, but we are going to demand that the world honors that.

We do this for ourselves. But mainly, we do it so that the young, frightened people who come after us won't have to feel that suicide, depression, and self loathing is going to consume their lives. They need to know that they do not have to let their souls suffer at the hands of ignorant fools who care nothing for them.

There is so much more to life. It's time to seize what is rightfully ours! IT'S TIME TO LIVE!