“If you end up with a man, we’ll be happy. If you end up with a woman, we’ll be happy too. And if you end up by yourself, as long as you’re happy, we will be happy.” - my mom, at the tail end of my coming out as bisexual
My parents (pictured here at my dad’s retirement from the ministry after 39 years) have been absolutely tireless fighters for progress in the United Methodist and Episcopal churches in western Washington state. My dad preached love and acceptance in a logical and knowledgeable way for nearly 40 years, made friends and enemies because of it, and my mother raised me and my brother without gender roles or expectations, in the 80s when such a thing was barely even on the edge of the American zeitgeist.
They are what I call Front Line activists—they have been there for years, every day, in suburb after suburb, staunchly defending their queer child & friends in faith-based ways, always willing to have discussions that might lead to greater understanding, and never failing to show their support in small but important ways, like pronoun usage and adding names onto invitations.
And Ref 74, well…
My dad got so hot under the collar (pun intended) that he wrote letters to the editor of the tiny, arguably conservative daily news of the town in which they live, a town in which he does have some notoriety due to his church activities. I only know about this because my mom then mailed one to me, with no note. Just this fabulous newspaper clipping, in which my father lambasted opponents of marriage equality, asking any of them to come up with one actual way in which it would affect his heterosexual marriage of 44 years.
They show their support through actions, which is true character. They know the real meaning of family. They are happy for me. And I would be nowhere and nobody without their support.—jr
This is beautiful. The writer hit the jackpot in the parent department!
