This morning, I was thinking about how much I enjoy my LGBTQ friends. I have several people I’m close to who are part of the community. And others that I enjoy chatting with on my writing platforms. I love being able to read and support their articles about their experiences within the community. My favorite person in the world is gay, my wonderful daughter.
Being an ally and friend to the queer community isn’t something new to me. Or impressive, at least in my mind. Though I get complimented frequently for my vocal support of equality and my anti-homophobic stance against bigots, I don’t see it as some noble, admirable thing.
Everyone should automatically be supportive of wonderful people.
We all deserve kindness and respect if we’re decent human beings. If you have good manners, kindness in your heart, and love for all types of people, you have my utmost admiration and support. Sadly, living in a racist, bigoted society that seems to be moving backward in the past few years, it is often deemed impressive when we’re LGBTQ allies.
I wish it wasn’t that way. Though I’m proud of myself and my family for being kind, accepting people to the queer community, I find it sad that good people here in our country are praised and applauded for doing what’s right. I long for the day when being kind and supportive to all differing types of people becomes our default setting as human beings.
I worry that I won’t see that happen during my lifetime.
My journey toward being an LGBTQ supporter and ally was improbable in the earliest days. Being raised in church by a pastor father lowered the odds of me becoming kind and supportive of queer folks. I remember being indoctrinated about many things at a young age, and one in particular stood out:
We were taught that gay people were sinners. And they were mentally disturbed. And that they were going to burn in Hell.
This didn’t make sense to Grade-School Me back in the early 80s. Gay people were mentally disturbed? Why would God punish someone with mental problems and burn them in Hell? Was my Down’s Syndrome cousin going to also burn in Hell because of his mental deficiencies?
You can see why so many children who were raised religiously end up being so confused. Or denounce religion, once they reach the age of reason. I was a gifted child growing up. My IQ was tested at 144 in grade school. So you better believe I started questioning the hypocrisy of religion.
Meanwhile, I befriended my first queer friend in fifth grade. Ross was a funny, quirky little blonde boy. I was new to our Christian school and he excitedly showed me around the first few days. I noticed that he was chatty, and animated, and loved playing with the girls in our class.
The boys weren’t mean to him but didn’t include him in their rough-and-tumble playground games. I enjoyed playing sports and getting dirty, but I also enjoyed the recess time I’d spend with Ross. We talked about all sorts of things, and I was proud to call him one of my best friends.
I found out decades later that he was an out, proud gay man.
I was happy for him. I wondered if he had the support of his family. I theorized that he probably left the Assembly of God church that our Christian school was affiliated with. Most of those types of churches don’t support LGBTQ people. He seemed to be living his best life, from what I observed when I found his social media profile.
Junior high was quite different than grade school. Kids started becoming meaner and bullies were more common than in my elementary school years. I had numerous friends who didn’t seem to fit in with the other students. This is when I met Marc.
Marc was a unique kid. He was a hyper, somewhat anxious kid. We had P.E. class together and he was so uncoordinated. He seemed to be magnetized to the dodgeball. I explained that they called it “Dodgeball” because you were supposed to dodge it when it was thrown at you.
He laughed and told me I was so silly. He liked getting out as soon as possible because then he could just sit and chill, avoiding having to run and sweat. I thought that was funny and logical, both. As an average junior high kid with a smaller build, I found myself eliminated sooner than later much of the time.
So Marc and I would pal around while the bigger, more athletic boys fought to the death, dodging the red rubber ball. Marc watched intently while we chatted. I noticed he shrieked like a girl when a ball would come flying in his direction. He even did that occasionally just in conversation, sort of like Little Richard, if you’ve ever heard him sing.
Marc was a fun guy. We ended up going to different high schools, so I didn’t see him after junior high. Once social media became a thing, I found him many years later. He was also an out, gay man, and I was glad to see him living an authentic, happy life.
I had another friend in college who presented as very effeminate. Anthony was so much fun. We worked together on campus and would hide out in the teachers’ lounge while classes were in session. We’d make fun of things, share our thoughts about life and people, and laugh until we figured it was time to get back to work.
He once asked me if I liked being married. I shrugged my shoulders and was like, “Sure, most of the time.” We laughed about that, as he’d met my wife at the time and knew she could be a bit much. Looking back, I wondered if he was fishing, gauging my level of interest, or possibly seeing if this kind, sensitive young man could have also been closeted.
Nope, not me. I knew I was into girls since Daisy Duke showed up in a red string bikini on The Dukes of Hazzard.
But that didn’t matter when it came to my choosing of friends. I didn’t know Ross and Marc were gay back in grade school and junior high. Nor did it matter. I just knew they were fun, and kind, and that they were my friends. I was supportive of both of them and Anthony before realizing they were part of the LGBTQ community.
And that’s the whole point: Treating others with kindness and respect was never some admirable thing, to me. I just remember being taught to do unto others as you’d want done to you. Being kind and friendly to ALL my friends was easy. I had queer friends, poor friends, minority friends, all sorts of friends.
Think about this the next time you’re thinking about judging or discriminating and choose a different route. Some of the most memorable, wonderful people I’ve become friends with throughout life have been part of the LGBTQ community. You’re missing out if you judge someone as unworthy of kindness or your friendship simply because they’re different than you.
© 2024 Jason Provencio. All rights reserved.
The sad thing is that any of this needs to be said. People are people. Everyone deserves our support—if they are decent people—no matter who they are.
Thinking back I knew of a few people in high school (males) who were gay though some were closeted. But women blended in more I think. Female friends started coming out in college or shortly after. But I always knew somehow before I was told.
Still a very difficult world for the LGBTQ community. I am so afraid of them being harmed by MAGA types. For that reason I cried when Trump was elected. I was also afraid for minority friends.
The way I see it, the more different types of people you know, the more interesting your life is, and it will probably make you a more sympathetic better person.
Your Ross was my Ron. I let him go in high school because of our diverging paths and when he died in a car accident I didn’t realize how much I lost… until this moment.
Thank you for this reminder, as painful as it is. RIP Ron.