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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required One of my sisters believes I chose to be queer. Did you remind her you had no more choice about chasing guys than she did? Yes. But her favorite televangelist says I must be mistaken, or just lying, because who wouldn't choose to be hated by all the hetero homophobes like televangelists, right? That makes no sense. She can't really believe you would choose to belong to any repressed and humiliated minority, especially during early onset of puberty, when every girl and boy in any culture is terrified of becoming different, or special, or weeded out of the clickety-clak pack. Well, as she sees it, she is in a LoseLose double-bind. Either I chose to be queer, and am thereby demented, or God graces all forms of WinWin sexual expression, which would be contrary to her homophobic enculturation, so it is easier to believe I am nuts to choose perversely than to consider herself nuts not to choose more graciously, especially with regard to God's creative capacity for love, rather than simplistic judgments which look and smell and sound like patriarchal sexism more than radical fertility of God's healthy wealth of incarnating love for all children, red and yellow, black and white, gay and straight and shades of grey transgenderal, each is precious in our multiculturing nurturing MotherEarth's sight. What about your other sister? Oh, she agrees. With what, or whom? She agrees we're all nuts.
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