I had reserved the room at Cafe Mod East in Warsaw several weeks in advance. It only cost $25, and $15 of that was applicable toward coffee for the room, so I got a 5-serving coffee pot and a light blue sugary drink to occupy my child who was with me on his own spring break. That only placated him slightly, and he seemed interested neither in joining in the conversation (even when it pertained to his own experiences directly) nor in quitting his quest to ask me to watch videos on the computer I was using for the discussion. He was particularly unimpressed that it wasn't my fault that my mother, who was going to pick him up to spend the weekend with her, had skipped out on the discussion she said she'd attend in order to hang out with my brother. Guess this project just didn't mean as much to her as it does to me, even though I thought I had made my feelings clear to her. Nobody was rude at all about his interruptions, I should point out, and he did eventually score use of the laptop halfway through, mostly due to pity.
There were 7 of us total, 4 of whom weren't from my household. Interestingly, even though straight people had RSVP'd, none of them actually showed. Very few had sent me stories to begin with, even though I had made a specific call for straight people to submit their stories, in response to the disparity. I'm not disappointed or upset by that, but it does follow my continuing observation that whatever "dialog" the local community claims to wish to hold regarding LGBT issues, their words are not matched by actions. Or maybe they're talking about us without us.
On the positive side, this meant that we could be very open and honest about how we reacted to the different experiences shared, without self-censorship. We touched upon the ways we felt the local church communities had failed us (both as people with same-gender attraction and as people with mental health concerns - a surprising amount of overlap there in congregational reactions), and what ways we were replacing that loss of network with our own family and friend support networks. We examined how the attitudes of students at Warsaw Community High School could be tracked as a sort of cross section of the larger attitudes of their times, in that the youth of the 90s were different than the youth of the 00s were different than the youth of this decade. We shared personal feelings and went off topic and had a good time in general.
I saved the booklets till the end, because in my experience people tend to be distracted by handouts if given before a discussion. Everyone grew silent, absorbed in reading, and one person quipped "oh, you edited me to make me sound good, like I asked!" People really seemed to enjoy seeing themselves within the larger context, in a well-polished distributable format. Some asked for extra copies, and the remainder I placed by the entrance with the other distributable materials (such as business cards and event flyers). A few days later, I checked and they hadn't been disappeared, so that's encouraging. I asked 2 questions on my feedback forms, and got some insightful responses:
What have you learned from the stories/discussion?
- That Warsaw has a rich and vibrant LGBTQI community, despite the conservative atmosphere. That despite the discrimination, our community sticks together in hard times and continues to diversify the area and spread awareness.
- Queer people are awesome and we will not be silenced by bigotry!
- We are not alone.
- That Warsaw still sucks to live in.
- That no person is the same and the community is more diverse than we think.
How has this impacted your view of yourself within the local community?
- That I am not alone, that I'm included in the conversation, and that I'm a part of making history. Our stories and lives are important in the scheme of things.
- Helpful to connect with other queer people and learn from each other's experiences.
- We are awesome but marginalized and "dialoguing" isn't something that this community seems to really want to happen... sadly.
- My view of myself hasn't changed. My need for validation from others is diminished.
- As broad as my view is, it's not broad enough to include what I must include. I'm still a child. [Another attendee besides my child was a minor.]
Just as I didn't want to share the booklets till after the discussion, I didn't want to share the blog containing the full-length stories until after the event. When I got home, I posted a link on the event listing and in various other pages and groups. lgbt-kc.blogspot.com I still haven't written my own story. Well that's not true... the next morning, I opened up a letter from one of my prison pen pals (I write to 2 different trans people in prison), and in it was a thank you for my story, that "it made me feel better in my own skin":
I grew up in a very religious household; attended private Christian school k-9 (public school 10-12), went to church twice a week. I read the Bible so many times in my childhood that I think I wouldn’t need to read it ever again and I’d still know way more than most people about what’s actually written in it. My dad didn’t believe that gay people existed (I guess he thought they were making it up?). So it took me a while to realize that I really was attracted to more than one gender, and that there really wasn’t anything wrong with me for not feeling like a girl/woman.
My first marriage lasted 4 years, and that’s where Mountain comes from. I was in the Air Force, then we tried to move to Italy to live with his family (and failed), and it was overall a chaotic relationship. I kept trying to be the perfect sexy wife for him, and while it was sometimes fun, it was really not a way I could live my life. I kinda figured out who I was after I left him, but didn’t know what steps I wanted to take in life just yet.
My next marriage seemed like a step up, because he claimed to accept who I was and never questioned that… but he became more and more sexually abusive, so gradually I didn’t realize what was happening till after he finally left. That whole time, I was at an insurance brokerage for 6 years, started out as a receptionist then got my license to be an insurance service representative. I slowly eased into dressing the way I wanted to, and they didn’t exactly like it, but I was their best employee so they let it slide.
After we moved here, I vowed I’d never live that way again. No more trying to make other people happy by changing who I am for them. I’m really glad I finally have someone who supports me and loves me for who I am. Our wedding was scheduled for June 4, but November is feeling like their anxiety disorder would probably not allow for them to have a relaxed and happy time with people watching them, so we will probably do a private ceremony June 3 and then re-purpose the building we reserved at the park for a picnic. My friend suggested that since June is LGBT pride month, we should have a Pride Picnic. I worried that family and friends would be sad that we uninvited them all (so to speak), but they are very loving and supportive. I am overwhelmed with how much love I have in my life. A decade ago, I felt so lost and disconnected, and now I am part of a supportive community
I had mentioned in the previous blog post that I had no idea where to begin, not remembering that I had already written this. I guess what it took for me to be able to talk about myself was to stop thinking about my narrative as something I had to have perfect for my project, and just share from the heart with someone I care about.
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Welcome, classmates! Thank you for sharing your thoughts.