2003-06-22 - 10:11 a.m.

A Lesson Learned

Sometimes an entry from someone else�s diary prompts me to write a similar one of my own. It is pure coincidence that Marn wrote about this subject last week. I started the story shortly before, thinking about how I miss my friend.

My friend and co-worker was really an admirable young man. He was handsome and smart and talented in many other ways as well. He was an excellent writer, a thoughtful teacher, a fine craftsman (excellent carpenter), a computer programmer, and a talented musician. Even better, perhaps, was his willingness to do whatever had to be done, with never a word that maybe his talents lay elsewhere. I was proud that he considered me a friend.

One day he came into my office to tell me he was leaving � not only the job, but the city as well. A long-time romance had broken up, and he just couldn�t bear to stay in the same place. You�ve heard the story before, as have I. The only difference was that his lost lover was another man.

I was really amazed. In all the years I had known him, I had never suspected that he was different. He showed me a long farewell letter he had written. By the time I finished reading it, I was only sorry that he was so heartbroken and wishing that I could make him feel better. All the rest of it didn�t matter.

I realized that, indeed, nothing had changed. He was still handsome, smart and talented. In the back of my mind, I could hear some bigot asking, �But would you trust him with your son?� And the answer came back, clear as a bell: of course I would. I had trusted him with my daughters when I assumed he was straight. The honesty and integrity remained intact.

Granted, my experience was limited. The only gay men I had worked with (during the Sixties) were a couple of disagreeable guys who probably would have been just as unpleasant whatever their orientation. I had never dwelt on it.

I wished my friend well, though I absolutely hated to see him go. I found myself thinking about the problems of the gay community in a different way. Mostly I never cared about anyone else�s sexual habits; don�t tell me yours and I won�t tell you mine.

The values that make a home are caring, consideration, and commitment. The respect that grows out of that kind of a relationship holds the rest of it together, and the gender of the principals doesn�t matter. Most of us know of at least one unconventional household that functions well. Maybe the wife is the breadwinner, or maybe there are three adults sharing responsibility for each other�s children. Why it works is nobody�s business.

In the end, it�s not about politics. It�s about the individual.

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