By Janis Ian
The Dads (surely you remember them from previous articles) are worried that their son, Jason, will grow up with no sense of tradition. It's difficult enough parenting as a gay couple, striking new ground with every step; the child needs some sense of continuity. Not wishing to inflict their own religious stereotypes on him and being more inclined to paganism (or priapism) than to regular churchgoing, they've decided to teach him the religions of the world. Christianity seems a good place to start, since many of Dad 1's forebears were Catholic priests. "Besides," they reason, "if we start early, he'll have more time to get over it later on."
By Jeff Walsh
When Elizabeth Katz was 14, she had an experience that forever changed her life. "I had an experience I don't think very many people have," she says, now 18 and a first-year student at Vassar College.
"It was some sort of voice in the back of my head," she says. "I was sitting on my bed, alone in my room and the little voice said: 'Hey, know what? You're gay.' And it was just boom, everything made sense.
By Jeff Walsh
Before I was born, Janis Ian was making beautiful music. And with her spare, acoustic recent album "Revenge," the tradition continues. Going into the interview, I was more familiar with her humorous and poignant columns in The Advocate. For some reason, although I had picked her CDs up in stores, I never bought them.
We've had another spat over high school. I want to take Italian and move back to Italy to home school, and spend my days wandering those deliciously silent streets of Venice. But Mom purses her lips and says that she won't "narrow my horizons" like that, that I'll get a better degree if I stay here. She says I have to see the "light at the end of the tunnel." I can see a light alright, but I might have to walk into it before the four years are up. She keeps talking about rights of passage and persevering. I just don't know if I can survive this.
*I've been reading Judy Shepard's book "The Meaning of Matthew" about her son who was murdered in 1998. I wanted to write a poem about who Matthew was as a person, not just the headline story. The title was taken from Lady Gaga's cover of "Imagine" by John Lennon.*
The state melted into a pool
of cerulean in your eyes,
Wyoming tinted your hair
a cowboy prairie blond and
stained your boyish lips
with a wanderlust grin.
Matthew, you've grown
older by now but some
things never change like how
the Curious Unknown
still sparkles in your dreams,
the sticker lights of Laramie.
A few days ago I went with my father to pick up some speakers he had bought, and I fell asleep in the car on the way home. When I went to get out the door I saw a crane fly right next to where my face was, at most a couple of inches away. The next day I was walking my dog and the same crane fly flew right in front of me. The day after that (yesterday) it was in my room, flying around me. And just now it was outside my window, trying to get in my room. What the fuck is this?
This month has been mostly a hell, the first week of it I was really depressed and my parents made things worse, I tried to kill myself twice, I made more cuts and my birthday really sucked, I spent all day holding tears at school, faking smiles and lying to my parents saying to them that I had a good day and that I was really tired, I actually cried all night at home and thought a lot of suicide and why I had failed last time (2 days before); some times I get some little euphoric or maniac episodes and after they're gone I feel worse.
I am officially done with high school as of tomorrow. It's honestly kinda hard to wrap my head around that fact. But it's over now. I survived what many consider to be the most socially awkward, horrifically embarrassing phase of human life.
So I have these two friends and the both of them are like really good friends of mine.
Friend K is my trusted friend who I trust above everyone else. We don't get to hangout very often but I know that I can call her whenever I need to for advise or anything else. She was the first person I came out to in college and she took me clothes shopping in the women's section for the first time, and I just feel like she'll always be there for me if I need support.
Well, a couple of days ago I was hanging out with my friend Robert, the only person who knows I'm bi. This girl, Trisha, was with us. She's not really a friend of mine, more of a friend of a friend. Anyways, Robert made some joke or comment that I responded to. It wasn't offensive, but my response indicated to my queerness. Anyways, Trisha got nosy and started asking what Robert told me. I couldn't tell her what he said though, because then I would have to come out.