“WHY NOT JUST TELL THEM YOU’RE GAY?”
VIEWS
EDITOR’S LETTER
VICTOR WAS BEAUTIFUL: DARK HAIR, SMOOTH SKIN, TALL
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and with shoulders like a linebacker. Since he was a senior and I was a freshman, I felt like an unformed ball of adolescent pudge next to what I perceived as his towering maturity. During the few conversations I had with him, I was awkward and tongue-tied. But we were both in my high school’s production of Fiddler on the Roof. So there was plenty of time to hide - just far enough outside his general orbit to not really be noticed but close enough to marvel. Guys wanted to impress him. Girls complimented at him adoringly until they were rewarded with one of his easy laughs. Toward the end of the production, we were all gathered on stage.Victor was telling the group how much we had meant to him. I started tearing up. He noticed and made a little joke about it. I was embarrassed but also grateful to have been seen. He patted me on the back, tousled my hair, and pulled me in for a little hug. I remember trying to memorize the moment in case I never had the opportunity to be that close to him again. Meanwhile, outside of theater, my school world revolved around Ms. Curry. As a history teacher, she dared to trace our nation’s history from the view of those who’d been disenfranchised by it - the Native Americans displaced by the colonists, the slaves who worked the plantations of the founding fathers. As a Speech & Debate team coach, she channelled my energy into competitive dramatic reading. This combined two of my great loves: being theatrical and receiving a grade. These two worlds collided one day when I was meeting with Ms. Curry in her classroom. Ms. Curry was the type of teacher who was constantly visited by upperclassmen and graduates in search of advice. This annoyed me. Those older boys had their time with her. Why should they get to constantly interrupt ours? That said, I didn’t mind Victor for interrupting my one-on-one coaching session. The musical had been over for some time; so I’d had little excuse to see him. And he was clearly upset about something. Ms. Curry graciously gestured for Victor to sit but also indicated that I should not leave. Turns out: Victor’s father had threatened to send him to military school. Quietly, I fumed. How dare he threaten my Victor? “Why don’t you tell them you’re gay?” Ms. Curry suggested. I choked. Was he gay? I’d had countless crushes on straight boys, but I had never known anyone in my life to be openly gay. What were the odds that this beautiful man, whom I’d spent so many hours adoring from across an auditorium, could share my shameful secret? And why would Ms. Curry even hint at such sensitive information about another student? “Even if it’s not true, it would be against the rules for them to accept you,” she continued. Victor was not thrilled with this option. Without confirming or denying whether he was gay, he noted how angry it would make his father. Ms. Curry promised that she would give it thought and do everything in her power to keep him from this fate. Victor excused himself the heavy feeling of bearing a burden alone clearly lessened. Ms. Curry looked back to me.“I assume Victor can count on your discretion,”she said matter-of-factly. Some part of my Catholic schoolboy self felt part of a conspiracy, but I nodded emphatically. I can’t be sure why Ms. Curry made me a part of that conversation. My instinct is that she had sensed my deeply divided feelings about my own sexuality. She knew I would benefit from seeing two people have a conversation that acknowledged the existence of gay people and that there were even ways it might be to one’s advantage. Ms. Curry gave me a lot of great advice over the years, and I thought I’d be one of those boys who couldn’t stop coming back to her. However, while she remained a bedrock for me throughout high school, I never went back to interrupt a class or meeting as I’d seen so many others do. She had already understood me so completely and prompted me to grow so adeptly, I did not need to. But I do hope she knows how much better my life is because of her. ■ DECEMBER 2019/JANUARY 2020
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