When I was in high school my biggest question was what, what will I do with my life?
My mother told me that she thought that I would be a cosmetologist(hair dresser). This idea was met with a great deal of displeasure.
I had always heard that male hair dressers were all homosexuals(not true).
Even though I knew that I was gay, in those days it was not quite so easy to declare that one was homosexual. The gay people I knew were not trying to fly under the radar in my neighborhood. Not at all! I did not see myself a flamer,and would feel sick if I received any attention from those guys.
I was not having sex with men or women while I was living in my parents home. The idea of made me uneasy since I was a virgin till I was almost twenty.
One day I was looking out of the bay window and saw a familiar person walking past our house.I will not use his real name, so I'll just call him Rex. Rex was staggering past my house, drunker than Rex could handle.
I saw a real opportunity to get close to this young man I wanted to get to know since I was seven and he was six. At this place in time I was nineteen and he was eighteen. He made me feel like I had never felt before. Anyway! I went outside to assist him in getting down the street.
As I approached him I could see that he was very sad. He was sighing almost crying. I asked him if I could do anything to help? He seemed surprised.
No! He said. He didn't want me to get into trouble. He said he'd be ok. He just needed to walk off his drunk.
I decided to walk with him. We walked for a couple miles and found a White Castle. He ordered a cup of coffee. As we sat there he talked about a girl that I knew who lived down the block. She used to be his girl friend He wanted her back. He talked and I listened.
Looking at him as one would look at the object of his desire.
All of a sudden he switched from talking about his ex girlfriend to, how nice I was to stay with him while he got himself together. It had been my honest pleasure to have spent that time with him.
I had to get home though. It was getting dark and I didn't tell my folks where I had gone.
When I got home my dad met me at the door with a very intense expression on his face. He seemed a little uncomfortable. He ask me if I knew anything about Rex. Yes! I said. We had gone to the same school since we were children.
He suddenly and with great force, told me that I was forbidden from seeing him again.
Wow! I thought.
I felt like Juliette being told that I was never to see Romeo again.
I felt that he had no right telling me who my friends should or shouldn't be.
Before I knew it those very words came flying out of my mouth. I know that saying this might change my life for ever. It did!
One day Rex came to visit me. To thank me for the attention I gave him the other day. I remember my mother saying how nice it was for him to come and let us know that he was ok.
He didn't stay long.
When he had gone, my mother said. " Your father doesn't like Rex. It's not a good idea for him to come here".
We talked about this for a while and I found out that Rex had witnessed his father shoot his mother to death. We both thought that Rex must be in a lot of emotional pain. Given what he had seen. To make matters worse he had no place to go after the death of his mother..
He did have other family who might have taken him in, but he was acting out in ways that frightened his family.
He then became a ward of the state, but had no loving intervention.
My mom liked him a lot. She said that he probably needed a friend.
I did become his friend and moved out of my parents house. The State was paying for an apartment for Rex, and food stamps were also given to him.
He asked me if I wanted to live with him. I had no where else to go, so I said yes!
Our friendship was one of respect and care. Even though he was not gay we did like being close. Sleeping in the same bed tested my will to stay on my side of the bed though. Rex was chiseled and remarkable to behold. Medium brown skin. Well I could go on, but what ever your idea of perfection is, for me it was Rex.
After a few days of organizing our home we ventured over to Minneapolis where Rex had made friends with a group of girls. These for girls had just moved to town from the southern part of the state.
Nice girls, but troubled at the same time. Looking for a life that there small rural town could not offer.
Among the girls was one in particular who clicked with me.
We talked for hours about things that made us happy and things that made us feel a part of the world as it was then.
She was white and I was not. She liked the idea of society blending the races and living as one people, not groups of different races.
We really liked each other!
One beautiful summer night while I was at her apartment, a few guys from St. Paul came to her place for a little party.
These young men knew me as Tommy the sissy boy. Some teasing about me went on and my friend Emma came to my defense and told them to leave, if they didn't stop calling me names.
She was magnificent! I knew we would be friends forever.
A few day later at her apartment, she asked me if it was true about me being gay?
I told her that I had feelings for men sexually.
She asked if I had ever had sex with a man? I said that I had not had sex with anyone, male or female.
This discussion went on until she suggested that she and I have sex. By doing this we would discover my true sexual nature.
Pretty awkward in the beginning, but as things moved along I got the feeling that she was enjoying what we were doing. She started moving, thrusting me further inside her. Faster and faster until she started making sounds as those she was asking for something I had. Something that I didn't know I possessed. She was enjoying me to such an extent that I could not with hold any effort to help.
We were really doing it! After she had climaxed a few times, she wanted me to climax too. Till then I was just enjoying how much fun she was having. Then I realized that I had the urge to complete my own journey. To arrive at the point where I thought my brain was going to shoot out of my skull.
This was very misleading for Emma. She declared that I was not gay. I did not say anything to ruin her moment, but in my head I was thinking about Rex.
The next morning it was clear that Emma and I had become a couple.
I moved from Rex's apartment and moved in with Emma.
After a few days things had settled into a comfortable pace of life.
Rex seemed fine with the new arrangement, but one day he came by for a visit to tell me how much I meant to him. I had seen him through a tough time and I had proven to be his true friend.
Even though we had slept in the same bed for weeks we had never offered each other physical affection.
He gave me a firm, warm, affectionate hug. I hugged. him back.
I couldn't let go. I had the feeling that we had become attached at the soul. He did not let go either. What ever happened next was beyond our control.
We moved as naturally as trees being moved by the wind in a storm.
The feeling of his naked skin was more than I could have ever imagined.
We were on a search for the place on our bodies that completed us both.
The next day I wanted to tell Emma what had happened on her bed the day before, but I didn't. I had no idea what might have happened if I had told her.
She started talking about us having a baby.
Oh no! I said. I'm gay, I know I'm gay!
She argued.
Saying that I had proven to her that I was not gay.
I didn't relent. What kind of father would I be?
What would our child think of me?
I could not see me being a father.
We argued on and on.
Finally she said that she would get pregnant without my consent, and I could not stop it from happening.
We carried on our way. Down our sexual path and I was not leading the way. Not knowing when to stop along the way, I inadvertently got her pregnant.
Nine months later and a few visits from Rex, I was awakened by Emma having labour pains.
While Emma was pregnant she didn't work at all. My job didn't pay enough to stay in the nice place we were in and I heard of a house that some gay men had rented.
A huge house and needed more tenants to help pay the rent. Two men, a woman and her baby.
Having a woman another with a baby in the house made Emma feel at ease. Having an older woman with a six month old child could teach her some things she needed to know, as far as caring for a new born.
It was march when the baby was born.
My father had died almost a year before our child came into the world. I know my dad would have been surprised, but proud of me. He would have loved my baby girl "Bea".
At some point Emma got the idea that we should not live together, because the State of Minnesota had programs for under age mothers. She would receive checks and food stamps, but I had to be gone from their lives or at least pretend that I had deserted them.
Off I went to find my way, disconnected and confused. I called Rex to ask if I could move back in with him, but he had been hanging around with pretty rough gang who robbed small stores. They were caught and Rex was put away for a few months.
What shall I do? Where shall I go?
Back home to my mother's house of course.
While I was spending lots of time without Rex and Emma, I would go to a gay bar to dance. I loved to dance! It was not part of my character to sleep around with men who made themselves available to me. I just danced with lots of men.
One night while at the bar "Sutton's", dancing my little heart out, the bar tender called me to the bar and asked what I wanted to drink.
A very tall, very well dressed, very handsome white man nodded his head and raised his glass toward me.
What a nice thing to do, I said to myself. I walked over to thank him. When he started speaking I heard a deep rich voice, with a nice German accent. Hello! " What is your name" he asked. Tommy, I said. You're not from America are you? I asked. No! He said. I'm from Germany. My name is Straymon. Would you like to be my date for tonight?
This was new to me, the idea that a tall handsome man would send me a drink, and ask me to be his date.
Even though I knew I was gay I never understood how gay men would do things like dating. It is a lot like how heterosexuals do it. Duh! He asked me if I would like something to eat? I was a little hungry so off to "Charley's Restaurant" we went.
He was trying to impress me I thought.
Charley's was one of the most exclusive restaurants in town.
It was great, he ordered for me!
After a while I began to realize that he wasn't trying to impress me at all. This was normal for him. It seemed that I had found a high roller. The proof came with his next invitation.
He asked me if I would ride with him to St Louis while he drove? I would be good company.
I didn't know him a bit and he was going to take me to a place where I knew no one.
Did he want to hurt me?
Still I was intrigued and invited him to meet my mother.
Maybe she would have a feeling about how trust worthy he was. If he had bad intentions at least my mother could tell the police what he looked like.
The rest of the invitation was that he would fly me home with a ticket from an airline. I didn't have to pay for anything after I agreed to travel with him.
I could get used to this.
I took Straymon home to meet my mother. To this point my mother and I had not talked about the fact that I liked men, but when I brought him in the house my mother gave us a nice smile. After I had introduced them, Straymon ask my mother for permission to take me to St. Louis with him. Her eyebrows flew up into her hair line.
Well Tommy do you want to go? She asked. I said yes. Mom didn't seem the slightest bit worried.
A couple of months earlier, while living in that house with the two gay men and the woman with the child I heard the telephone ring, I picked it up and there was a woman asking for Harrison. The voice was the voice of my sister Roberta. Later I found out that Harrison worked with her at the Post Office.
At the time I had not come out to my family. I called harrison to the phone and they started talking about my voice being familier. I heard harrison say my name to my sister on the phone. Harrison handed me the phone. I heard my sister say, "you are going to destroy mother when she finds out that you're a queer". Come home NOW!
I went home to a cold shoulder from my sister. She didn't know what to say, but she did eventually. The words really hurt. Well! " "I guess I have a sister now, my brother turned into a girl." I said I am still your brother! I am not a girl! "humph!" She replied. "I told mama!" She spat out the words.
Oh no! I said. Why did you do that ? "I told Myrna,and Eddie too." My life was over! She saw my distress and started to tell me how the family took the news.
My sisters and brother talked about putting me in a mental institution.
Coming to my rescue, my mother said that each one of them had something that they are not proud of. She went on to ask them to tell her their deepest secrets. What would happen if anyone knew what these secrets were.
She told them to leave me alone and that I was her son. She loved me and she knew that I loved them.
The relief gave me my life back. I was going to be alright.
Now! Back to my mother and straymon.
While we were talking my sister came down stairs to see what was going on.
She took one look at Staymon and with a smurky smile, she gave me the thumbs up. I introduced them and nothing but pleasantries flowed from everyones mouths. Boy was I happy!
The trip went as planned and when I returned Straymon called me everyday.
He was gone for about a month and when he returned he asked me if I'd like to move from my mother's house and in with him. How could I say no.
Mean while. Rex was still in a juvenile institution and I had gone to visit him several times. I wanted to be near him, but it was not allowed, so I waited till he got out.
Things with Straymon and I were not going well. I had a problem with sex with him. He was very handsome, sexy and had a huge sausage. There was no way I could let him do what he wanted to do with me.
When ever I told my friends of his endowment, they were envious and encouraged me try. I didn't like the idea of being hurt.
I did love him a lot and he was good to me. I do think he loved me, but one day the gay neighbor boy came to our door looking for Straymon. He told me that he had had sex with him the day before and how wonderful it was. I knew that it had to happen with someone other than me. I was denying Straymon the type of sex, that for him, would have made our relationship whole. I didn't want to keep them from making each other happy so I packed my bags. Before I could leave I had to ask my mother if I could move back home for a while. I had lived in New York helping my sister Myrna with her three kids. This was after I had graduated high school. I thought New York City would allow me to live the life style I had been living in recent months in Minneapolis. James Baldwin's book "Another County" had me thinking that I could be free to make mistakes, and learn from them with out being judged too harshly. This was an instructional manual for the type of life I would live in Manhattan.
This book helped me a lot.
I had a strong will to observe life from the point of view of a young, enchanted, and naive man. I knew I had to taste the wine(so to speak).
I collected my things and moved back to my mom's house, till I could get back to NYC.
Straymon was upset that I was going back to New York.
I had met a young Puerto Rican man while visiting my brother Eddie, who lived in Manhattan.
My sister in law Martha, a beautiful tall brown skinned woman, and her friend Barbara Devous wanted to introduce me to Julio Martinez, a designer of women's apparel. I was interested in getting to know him better before moving back to Minnesota where I had met Straymon.
I had told Staymon about Julio. I told him that Julio would be a good match for me because he was my age exactly, Straymon was five years older.
Julio was also into fashion as I was.
Julio could teach me how the fashion industry works.
Straymon tried to convince me that the fling he had with our neighbor would never happen again.
My feeling? How could he ever have me the way he wanted? This made me sad for him. I could never give myself completely.
One day my mother and I were talking about my confusion with regard to exploring a life with Julio and going back with Straymon.
My mother talked with me about a subject that would be off limits for a normal discussion between a mother and son. Somehow it was obvious that she was truly interested in my being happy with my choices. She was a great sounding board. I talked about things with her that other mothers would find awkward talking with her child about, but there we were talking with such ease. I was tempted to ask how she found it so easy discussing gay issues with her gay son.
Then I remembered an incident I had with a woman my mother had known named Frances.
I remember the day Frances came by to visit my mother.
A very dapper woman, wearing brown and white loafer spectators, neatly creased brown gaberdine trousers, white silk shirt, under a brown, tan and white plaid Pendleton jacket. I was outside our house raking leaves that bright autumn day.
Frances did not say a word to me as she walked up the stairs to the front porch. We lived in an old Victorian house with stained glass valences over the bay windows. The house was very large and was broken up into four apartments. Since we rented out these apartments it wasn't odd for me to see strangers entering our house.
Frances had not come to rent an apartment. She had for another reason entirely. She knocked on the door. A few seconds later my mother opened the door. The look of shock and awe brightened my mother's face.
My mother invited Frances to come in.
I couldn't help thinking that this visit was a curious visit. I had never seen that person and her intentions were unclear to me. A moment later I heard my mother's voice. "Tommy". She called.
I walked into the living room where mom and Frances were sitting. I didn't feel good about this woman who sat scowling at me, sitting next to my mother on the sofa.
"Tommy". My mother said sweetly. " Would you go to the store and got some milk?"
As much as I wanted to decline, this was an order. I had to go to the store. And to the store I went.
I ran fast as my little 8 year old legs could carry me. To the store and back home. For me it took forever, for my mother and Frances not long enough.
When I entered the house, I saw my mom and Frances sitting on an opened day bed near the dinning room.
I walked passed Frances with the carton of milk still in my arms. She reached out and grabbed me with the tips of her finger's and gave me the most painful pinch I had ever felt. I let out squeal that sent out a signal to my mother that she needed to protect her child.
The next voice I heard was my mother telling Frances to got out of her house and never show her face again.
I think my mother had a little confusion in her life too. We never had the chance to discuss that piece of my mother's history, but it would have been a good piece of history.
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