32 ▼ July 7. 1999 ▼ just out
G&M
Automotive
PDX
Automotive
6006 E Burnside, Portland
231-8486
5934 NE Halsey, Portland
282-3315
IT’S A QUEER THING
Elderly ally
Grandma went to the library and then went to bat
after she learned her grandson is gay
,
T
by Howard N. Dana
A
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R E
s my grandmother gets older and
older, she becomes more and more
fun. Rather than narrowing her scope
and calcifying her ideas, age has given
her license to live. She tells me she is
constantly amazed at the things she learns, even at
age 80. In my life, her open attitude has meant a
true inquisitiveness about things gay, lesbian,
bisexual and such.
My mother’s sister, Dorothy, lives in Port
land. Being one of two living daughters, Aunt
Dorothy gets a couple of visits each year from my
grandmother. Naturally, when in town, Grandma
always makes sure she gets in a day or two with
me. Not only does it give her a chance to see me,
but she knows that the time we spend together will
be much more “colorful” than that
spent with her daughter. Aunt Dor
othy lives a comfortable, upper-
middle-class life and has comfort
able, upper-middle-class tastes. In my
aunt’s company. Grandma is taken to
the symphony, art museums, quilt
shows, fine restaurants and garden
parties. From the elevated seat of my
aunt’s red Trooper, Grandma is
whisked from one affair to another.
All this can be a bit much for a simple
librarian from rural Montana.
My grandparents lived in my
hometown of Deer Lodge, Montana,
the 50 years they were married. My
grandmother lives there still. Not only
was their home life stable, but my
grandmother held her job as the sole
county librarian for 25 years. She is a
woman who knows what it means to
be from a place. She has rural Mon
tana in her bones. But she also has had the world
at her fingertips all of her life.
On my travels to Guatemala, over and over I
would run into people who had never traveled
beyond their home province but who could name
all 50 U.S. state capitals. I met farmers who had
read fine works of literature with the aid of an
eighth-grade education. These people called them
selves “armchair travelers.” It has been the same
for my grandmother. By way of an eagerness to
know, research comes naturally to her. This urge
to embrace new ideas serves her well in her old
age and in her travels. It also serves me well.
My grandmother took to my coming out as a
gay man like a duck takes to water. I remember
telling her on the way home from a movie that I
was gay. She did not say much about it that
evening, but when I got up the next morning she
was ready to talk. She had pondered my revelation
all night and, not being frightened by it, was ready
to learn what she could. Though I never expected
a negative reaction from her, I could not have
guessed what an ally she would turn out to be.
Whereas my mother cried for three months
upon learning that her son was queer, my grand
mother calmly went to the library. It was through
many long telephone conversations that Grandma
was able to convince my mother that I was going
to be just fine and there was nothing wrong with
being gay. I do not know to what lengths my
grandmother had to go to find good information in
rural Montana about queer folk, but she was able
to wear down the rest of my family’s denial
through the information she found. And her re
search did not stop there.
Each ti me Aunt Dorothy drops Grandma off at
my front door, she knows that I have a fabulous
itinerary for our time together. I delight in taking
her places my aunt never would. Whether it is
j
lunch at Hamburger Mary’s or a walk in the
Japanese Garden, a trip to NikeTown or a drive on
Sauvie Island, my grandmother knows that she
will see something unusual when she is with me.
Often a new experience will come at her request.
On one trip, she told me that she had never seen
drugs being sold on the street or truly homeless
people. So, I took her down to Old Town. In no
way did she want to ogle the people we encoun
tered on our walk through this section of town, but
it was from a sincere desire to understand that she
went. Montana being as white a place as you can
find, we often go to North and Northeast Portland
on her trips here, again to broaden her experience.
I have had to get used to the blunt nature of
some of my grandmother’s questions. My being a
gay man makes me, in her eyes, the expert on all
things queer. This can be a big responsibility. A
couple of months ago Grandma called me up to
ask questions about transsexuals. She had been
watching some daytime talk show featuring
transgendered people. Apparently the show did
not cover the topic as well as she would have
liked, so she automatically turned to me to fill in
the gaps. Luckily, I know something about
transgender issues and was able to help her out.
Luckily, I have a grandmother with enough pluck
to ask her grandson about such things.
What has resulted from an honesty in our
relationship is that my grandmother and I are able
to really understand what is important in each
other’s lives. She will ask me if I am dating
someone and even met a boyfriend of mine once.
She always inquires about a little boy she met who
has two gay dads. She meets my friends with great
interest, able to talk to them about the things and
people who matter in their lives. This level of
understanding probably would not have come
about had I not come out to her.
Once again in my life I am amazed by the
openness of elderly people. So many I know are
like my grandmother. They have seen a lot in their
lives and often seem almost like children in their
ability to absorb something new. Being someone
who believes that life is circular rather than linear,
the idea of coming completely around from youth
to old age is very comforting. What a gift it is to
be able to see with the eyes of a child. What it
means to be open is to be filled with love, for love
conquers fear. That which we fear most is what
we understand least. So take a chance, come out
to your grandmother or grandfather. Who knows
what delightful paths your relationship with them
might take? Who knows what they will ask? Who
knows how grateful they might be?