LM's Wandering Mind

Hey, gang. A couple of articles from the world of sports caught my eye this week. Did you know that it’s the 40^th anniversary of Title IX? That’s the law ensuring equal opportunity for women in a whole host of areas, such as employment, equal pay, etc. But Title IX has become largely synonymous with the law mandating equal funding for female athletes when a school receives any form of federal funds. The point is to ensure girls get opportunities just like the boys. Since becoming law in 1972—yes, under Nixon—Title IX has been crucial to the advancement and success of women’s athletics in the US.

I bring up this little history lesson for a reason. Earlier in the week, during an event to celebrate the 40^th anniversary of this important law, a California State Assemblyman apparently felt it was a good time to blast Title IX, charging that it was no longer necessary and came at the expense of male athletes. (For those of you in CA, that would be Chris Norby (r), in case you want to let him know how you feel.) Well, sitting in the audience for this occasion was none other than Brandi Chastain, US women’s soccer star, who, as you might have guessed, had a difference of opinion with Norby. Chastain wasn’t permitted to speak, however, because the proclamation didn’t allow for public comment. Apparently, a citizen responding to an elected official’s sexist remarks would be bad? <sigh>

Next, I caught an article about Danica Patrick. If you’re not familiar, she’s a professional racecar driver making the move from Indy to NASCAR. She drives the bright green Go Daddy car. The boys club of auto racing and its fans has been less than welcoming to Danica thus far. Jenna Fryer of the Associated Press wrote, “There’s a strong resentment toward Patrick that really has to end. It’s mean spirited—sexist in some cases—and even though it doesn’t bother her, it is harmful to little girls everywhere who maybe dream of being a race car driver.” I couldn’t agree more.

It’s 2012, forty years after Title IX was signed into law. And the public message our daughters, nieces, and granddaughters are getting is: Don’t dare to play in the boy’s domain. You’ll be ridiculed and scorned. I find that reprehensible. Our daughters have just as much right as our sons to participate in whatever sport they choose. And those who would prevent that or silence our daughter’s voices should be called out as the chauvinists that they are. It would be wonderful if this fight were over, but unfortunately these examples remind us that we can’t let up on the gains made on behalf of women a generation ago, or they’ll be in jeopardy. Danica Patrick and Brandi Chastain are wonderful role models for our children, but particularly our daughters. Let’s recommit to the cause of gender equality. It matters.

Are you with me ladies?

I’ve wanted to be a writer ever since I was a kid. My mom always said I was the “sensitive” one of her children, and behind the words I most certainly heard the dismay. I wrote poetry when I was younger, pouring out my inner thoughts and feelings onto the page in neat little rhyming phrases. I didn’t share that poetry with anyone. I was terrified they wouldn’t like it, and knew I wouldn’t take the rejection well. Why? Because I was writing about me. Those early poems were deeply personal expressions of a younger me, and I had no idea why I was different. The word lesbian wasn’t even in my vocabulary back then, and lezzie and dyke were dirty words, like the ‘N’ word—meant to hurt. As I grew older, I felt that pain when those words were hurled at me along with snowballs, rocks and sometimes fists.

My writing progressed into longer works as I grew older, but I never seriously considered publishing any of them. I didn’t think they were good enough. They weren’t. Why not? Because I had learned to edit out any references to my lesbian identity by switching pronouns, or completely filtering what I wrote about. This sucked the life out of my writing, just as hiding my emotions and my truly organic self was sucking the life right out of me. Finally, I had an awakening. When I made the choice to live and love openly my entire world changed. My writing flowed.

I’ve had friends and family members ask me why I “waste” my talent writing lesbian fiction. Truly. It took me a while to understand that what they are really disturbed by is being associated with a lesbian author. My family laments that they can’t brag about a published author in their ranks. I think it’s because to do so would mean they would somehow be labeled through association. So, back to the question: Why do I write lesbian fiction?

I write lesbian fiction because I want to tell my story—our stories—authentically. I don’t want to ignore the totality of our experiences as lesbians. I don’t mean to disparage, but let’s remember that as women, we do have a different experience even from that of gay men. Yes, the human condition is universal in many ways, but to deeply grasp the emotion and experience of any human, one cannot edit out sexuality. Humans are the only species whose sexuality is inextricably tied to emotion, and this is especially true for women. I want to write great stories with lesbian heroines who are strong, capable, sensitive, and yes, sexual. I can’t find those positive representations of myself, or lesbians in general out in the mainstream, straight, fiction world. Therefore, I choose to write those stories. So, for me, I’m not writing lesfic as some lead-up to hitting it big in the mainstream world. Unless the mainstream world is ready to accept unabashed, fully developed lesbian characters. I pray that day arrives. Until then, I am proud to wear the label: “Lesbian Author”.

Write a comment. I’d love to hear what you think.

~LM

Some of you may know that I wrote my first novel, Faithful Service, Silent Hearts based upon some of my experience in the US Army back in the days before DADT. I have always been extremely proud of my military service, even if my country at times was not proud of me—or more correctly of my homosexuality. I have always been humbled by the abject patriotism of those brave men and women, who, despite the prohibitions, have continued to serve in our military. Truly, their patriotism is astounding and above reproach. I mean, to serve in a military, willing to sacrifice one’s life for the rest of us, while your own relationship isn’t validated is a commitment of epic proportions.

I left the military because I realized that I wasn’t one of those folks. Maybe the universe had more for me to do, and I’d like to think that’s true. I reinvented myself as a law enforcement officer, and that has worked out pretty well for over 20 years. Service is still something I believe in, only now I do it on the streets of my hometown. There have been many long, thankless days, holidays missed with the family, heartaches, triumphs, but above all, satisfaction in this profession.

I am blessed to be part of a large family. Last year, one of my nephews decided to join the Marines. I was a bit skeptical when he first told me. In his whole life, I’d never pictured him doing anything like this. To be honest, I didn’t know if he had it in him. He wasn’t a bad kid, don’t get me wrong, I just questioned his mettle and resolve. Boy was I ever wrong.

A few days ago, I attended my nephew’s graduation from boot camp at Parris Island, SC. To see the transformation in him was nothing short of amazing. He had totally reinvented himself. Gone was the physically and mentally soft kid who had a smartass comeback for everything. In his place was a humble, but driven young man, fit in every way, ready to take on any challenge put before him. I was in awe of him as we walked the base and he regaled me with his stories. Many times, he’d start with, “Well, you know this, but…” Didn’t matter to me, I hung on his every word.

My wife and I spent two days at Parris Island with my nephew’s proud parents, his little brother, and grandparents. I was acutely aware that during several speeches, references were made to cultural diversity and respecting others. My brother and his wife have steadfastly supported my relationship, and being with them for this defining moment in their son’s life was precious. As we walked around the base on our privately guided walking tour, listening to his stories, I reached out to take my wife’s arm without thinking. We walked next to our nephew, the new Marine, who never batted an eye. He’s quite used to us by now, so that wasn’t the surprise. What moved me was realizing that it was no longer a taboo, even here in the middle of a military installation. Yes, public displays of affection by those in uniform, I’m certain are still not allowed. But for my wife and I, this wasn’t an issue. I realized at that moment that the repeal of DADT had finally reached me, 25 years after I separated from military service.

I don’t dismiss that there is more work to be done. GLBT service members still do not receive the same benefits as their married heterosexual peers. But, progress is unstoppable. A female Navy couple won the right to the first kiss on the dock after one returned from an overseas tour last month. Events like these big and small will soon become second nature. I’m glad that my nephew serves in such times. The US military has reinvented itself, and in doing so, has made itself a more welcoming place for GLBT military members—and their families.

Semper Fi, Buddy.