<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3440559\x26blogName\x3dWonder+Boy\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://wonderboyblog.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://wonderboyblog.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-3433295434139304058', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Life is only what you wonder.

Monday, January 20, 2003

I'm Coming Out - Part 1
"Johnny, Are You Queer?"

"Queers wear dresses and make-up." Lisa said as we knelt on the carpet of her bedroom.

We were 10 years old and we were coloring in our coloring books, sharing her big box of 64-color Crayolas.

"They want to be girls." she added, selecting magenta from the box.

"Really?" I asked, wide-eyed.
She had called Billy down the street a "queer" when he had thrown a rock at us (that missed) and then ran away.

It was a hot summer day and sunlight beamed through her bedroom window. Her mother was downstairs watching As The World Turns at a high volume. We could hear every word.

At that time, I was a few years away from discovering my own sexuality. I had never heard the word "queer" before and I had asked her what it meant.

"Yeah." She nodded her head for emphasis. making her ponytail sway back and forth.
"My uncles a queer. We don't talk to him anymore."
She scribbled with her crayon, making a big mess out of Wonder Woman's outfit.

"Queers like to kiss other boys ---on the mouth!" She scrunched up her chubby little face in a disgusted expression.

My child's mind boggled.

"I'm tired of this!" she said suddenly, flinging down her crayon.
"Want to play with my Barbies?"

Part 2 will be Coming Soon.