These guys are going to tell me that all those "straight-acting" boys who are scared to shit to come out as gay are more of a man that a effeminate boy who proudly confesses belonging his people? They must be kidding.
You said it. I went to school with a boy who was physically slight, who had an “artistic temperament”, who didn’t like sports, who played clarinet in the school band, who was more comfortable around the girls than other boys, who was slightly effeminate, and who was unfortunate enough to have the name “Perry”. Of course, with that singular lack of imagination or intelligence, the “cool kids” and the “jocks” and eventually pretty much everyone dubbed him “fairy Perry” and he was, over the course of his school career, bullied many times beyond counting, punched, kicked, beaten up, called names, spat at, sneered at... and this was even *before* he or any of our contemporaries had reached the age of puberty. That there was no objective “evidence” that Perry was a “fairy” was immaterial to the bullies -- they hardly needed an excuse to torment and bedevil Perry. And it certainly didn’t help that, when we *did* reach puberty, Perry seemed to remain the stereotype of “the fag”... although (still) there was no objective “proof” of his orientation one way or the other, as before, there was no need for “proof” -- Perry had long before been cast into the role of perpetual victim, and that’s just the way it was.
It is a mark of shame on that school that nothing ever seemed to be done about it by the teachers or staff, except in the most outrageous incidents. It is also a mark of shame on Perry’s fellow students that we became so accustomed to Perry being the target of the bullies that we pretty much just took it as a “given” -- that just seemed to be his lot in life. And while I include myself in that general sense of blame, I also carry a strong sense of shame over the fact that I was gay myself -- although I was completely unwilling to acknowledge that, or accept it myself at the time, being in active and fervent denial. But the thing was, while I stayed safely “hidden”, Perry never once backed down from the names, or the gawd-awful bullying. He took years and years of abuse (and neglect from the staff) but I never *once* heard him say “But I’m NOT!” He took the punches and kicks (and sneers and name-calling, which I’m sure in many ways was even more painful)... and he never once denied any of the slurs or ill-informed, ignorant name-calling.
In the intervening years, I have had much opportunity to regret my earlier cowardice, and my unwillingness to stick up for Perry, not least because I finally quit trying to be someone I wasn’t and admitted the fact that I am gay. I felt much the same as Bishop Gene Robinson did, when he described watching a classmate in his school being targeted as a “fag” and being afraid to stand up for him because Robinson was terrified that he would be targeted alongside his classmate, if he did. Robinson said that he has never lived down that sense of shame that he felt over his failure to speak up, and to act, and said that is a large part of the reason he is so adamant now about standing up for equality rights for queers now. I understood everything Robinson was saying.
But as for Perry, who knows, he might very well have been straight, but that was hardly the point. He was getting tormented as a “fag” regardless of whether he actually was a homosexual or not, yet I had been too gutless to speak up... Well, a few years ago, I set out to see if I could track Perry down; I wanted to apologize to him, at the very least. I wasn’t able to locate his parents, and was not having much luck when, after a few weeks, I found him by complete accident, on google. Or, at least, I found his name, on a segment of the Canadian AIDS quilt. And then I found a notice of a tree that had been planted in a Calgary park in his memory and his honour by his partner, Dave. I was 15-odd years too late -- he’d gotten sick in that first wave of AIDS that swept the continent in the early ‘80s, and he’d died in 1987, about age 24.
So, it turned out all those bullies were right about one thing. Perry *was* gay, after all. But they were completely wrong about all the rest. He might have been a “pansy”, a “fag” (and whatever else were the common slurs of the day), but he was *not* a “weakling”, or a “chickenshit” or a “wimp”. He was one of the toughest, strongest, bravest kids in that entire school. He was certainly tougher, stronger and braver than I ever was. Maybe, because he fit the stereotype so well, it was harder for him to “pass”, but to my knowledge he never even made the attempt. He had guts, and he had more strength and character than any of the bullies. More than any of his classmates who never tried to intercede with the bullies. More than his teachers, or the staff at his school. And certainly more than me.
There’s a lot of Perrys out there, still -- incredibly heroic, brave little fags, effeminate boys with a gentle nature who would rather be in art class or the band than the gym. Courageous flamers who won’t (or can’t) deny their own nature, while the many “masculine” homos sit tight and keep their traps shut for fear of receiving the same torment their more effeminate brothers endure on a daily basis.
I. Will. Never. Be. Silent. Again.
And I will never leave some poor kid to face that type of shit alone again. It’s too late to “do right” by Perry, or even apologize to him, but as I said, there’s lots of Perrys still out there, and this time, I know where I stand -- with the brave “fems” who won’t hide in the closet and deny themselves. They’ve got more character, more class, and *far* more bravery than any of these “straight-acting” poseurs who are so “ashamed” of the “flamers”.