Friday, March 15, 2013

Meeeee aaaand Misses, Misses Joooones

In 1972, I decided to become a handsome black man, elegant and charming. Billy Paul's hit Me and Mrs. Jones was #1 on my transistor radio. Daily it called to me:
Me and Mrs. Jones
We got a thing going on
We both know that it's wrong
But it's much too strong to let it go now

Please understand, I was seven years old at the time and about as black as Cindy Brady.

Nevertheless, the fantasy hung on tight. I thought about it while walking across the cornfield on my way to school, while playing on the swings during recess, while setting the table before dinner. I wanted to be that man meeting that beautiful woman for quiet conversation in the dimly lit cafe. I wanted to be near her and treat her well; I didn't get why "we both know that it's wrong," but it didn't matter to me. I just knew that Mrs. Jones must have been quite captivating, and I wanted to be the man at her side.

Kids who grow up gay know they are gay; they may not talk about it and they certainly don't choose it, but they do know it. In the absence of negative messages, they automatically assume their future holds warmth and intimacy and all the best parts of being a grown-up. This is as it should be--this is life in "a more perfect union."

Thanks to the hard work of groups like The Trevor Project and GLSEN, young people are dreaming of bright futures everyday. If you know of a young person (or an old person, for that matter) who might benefit from connecting with supportive LGBT resources, please do not hesitate to follow the links or call 1-866-488-7386.

Here's a little something for you to enjoy: