12 — OUT IN THE MOUNTAINS -— JUNE 1999 LOVE l\/IAKES A FAMILY Portraits of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Parents and Their Families PHOTOGRAPHS BY GIGI KAESER -- EDITED BY PEGGY GILLESPIE Foreword by Minnie Bruce Pratt - Introduction by Kath Weston — Afterward by April Martin V /\FAl\/IILY ¢%:.____ -v.-¢'m.'9/are-.v fl.c5hian, (Izzy, Bisvxmzl, and T sgendcr I’arcI1Is am lien‘ I’anIzl1cs F {E > sum-qavm-w A7]!/V VJ ‘This is a beautiful. beautifiil book and exhibit. Many of the photos brought tears to my eyes; To look into the faces of these families is to see cour- age, strength, joy, commitment, and most of all. love. Reading the inter- views of parents and children made me very proud of our community." —Les|éa Newman author of Heather Has Two Mommies NATIONAL BOOK TOUR ' Glad°DayBookshop Sunday, June 6, 1999 at 7:00PM - 673 Boylston Street 0 Boston Unitarian Society Friday, June 11, 6:30-9:00 PM - 220 Main Street, Northampton Lambda Rising Bookstore Wednesday, June 16, 1999 at 7:00PM — 1625 Connecticut Avenue 0 Washington, DC A Different Light Bookstore Saturday, June 19, 1999 at 11:00AM — 151 West 19th Street 0 New York, NY . Women and Children First Bookstore Sunday, June 20, 1999 at 1:00PM — 5233 North Clark 0 Chicago A Different Light Bookstore Tuesday, June 22, 1999 at 8:00PM - 8853 SantavMonica Blvd. 0 West Hollywood A Different Light Bookstore Thursday, June 24, 1999 at 7:30PM — 489 Castro Street 0 San Francisco Mama Bears Friday, June 25, 1999 at 7:30PM — 6563 Telegraph Avenue 0 Oakland Beyond the Closet Bookstore Monday, June 28, 1999 at 7:30PM — 518 East Pike Street 0 Seattle PAPERBACK $ I 9.95. CLOTH $40.00 AT BOOKSTORES OR DIRECT FROM: University of Massachusetts Press P.O. Box 429, Amherst MA 01004 MasterCard NISA (413)545-2219 BRING THE EXHIBIT TO YOUR COMMUNITY Love Makes A Family can travel to your school, university, workplace, library, house of worship, community center, Pride event, corporate headquarters, or conference. FOR INFORMATION, CONTACT: Family Diversity Projects, Inc. 413-256-0502 (e.s.t.) email: famphoto@javanet.com www.lovemakesafamily.org PROGENY Ill Ciflflf BOXES. cfllllillll “Ill, and Cflfllflll BY KEVIN MCATEERI Not as a gay man — that came later — but as a fatherless son. I was only eight years old when my father died in 1978. In my third grade class I “came out” when I was eight years old. in small-town suburban New Jersey, , everyone else had a mother and a father. Even divorce was not as commonplace in 1978 as it is today (let alone same-sex par- ents). _ I was the outcast, the one other kids snickered at or asked uncomfortable ques- tions. I was the only one who had to ask to stay home the Friday before Father’s Day to avoid having to use some combination of an empty cigar ' box, construction paper, crayons, and paste to make a gift for a father who had died of cancer six months earlier. It wasn’t until my early 20s that I came out as a gay man. Yet I credit years of hav- ing to share “Um, my father diedwhen I was younger” in preparing me for saying proudly “I’m gay.” While they are two separate and dis- . ~ tinctly different life passages, benchmarks, maturation stages, whatever you want to call them, what I have begun to appreciate is that the experience of being a fatherless son and a gay man have put me in a unique place. For me, one of the most inspiring aspects of being gay is feeling as though I . have been given full control of the reins to shape and define my life and, as a result, my future family. In many ways this sense of independence is empowering.‘Yet these same feelings of “you’re gay, run with it, be creative, question authority, do what is right for you” are also a reminder of being eight years old and feeling “my father is’ dead, everyone else my age has two par- ents, you’re now a fatherless son, deal with it.” So I did deal with it, along with my mother and three siblings, all of whom deserve incredible praise for giving me the unconditional love and varied outlets for grief that an eight-year-old needs. In fact, I find thatl am still dealing with it. This month will mark my 21st Father’s Day without my dad. Twenty-one years! That’s a long time. Most books on grief recognize that grieving is life-long, but why does it seem so ever-present for me, especially during the month of June, even I want tovblame the marketing teams at Callaway golf clubs and Hallmark. A few weeks ago, I wanted to blame Hugh Coyle, whom I don ’t even know personally. after all this time? I want to blame the marketing teams at Callaway golf clubs and Hallmark, who throw gift-getting ideas in our faces just as soon as Mother’s Day is over and fancy pottery and hanging plants are marked down 50 percent. (Come to think of it, we could all probably blame most consumer marketers for manipulating our emotions.) A few weeks ago, I wanted to blame Hugh Coyle, whom I don’t even know per- sonally. If you are a regular “Progeny” reader, you will remember his eloquent essay last month that examined how the added dimension of being gay influenced his feelings of loss around the death of his mother. I barely got through reading the article‘ when I realized, yet again, that here’s another thing that I won’t have to do: come out to my father. Then it hit me. This is why I am, in one sense or another, still grieving. Almost daily someone or something reminds me that I am a father- less son. Whether it is something I read or something I experi- ence myself, that there will continue to be benchmarks along my own life journey that I won’t be able to share with my father. And this is where I am stuck. What I would prefer to do, of course, is say, “OK, move on Kevin.” Yet the plan- ner in me wants to not only be able to anticipate any event or situation that will cause me to think about my father, but also to know how to react and, eventually, move on. (Do you think I have some con- trol issues?) As a result, when I meet someone, par- ticularly a man, who has experienced early parent loss (before the age of 19), the con- versation almost automatically switches to the topic of death, grieving, etc. It’s sort of like a post-gaydar experience: you have found common ground with a complete stranger and you are both feeling pretty safe opening up to each other. I remember when I first met my good friend Tracy; she was interviewing for a job at the college I was working at. During our meeting, she began to explain that she was moving backto New Jersey to be closer to her mother afier the death of her father earlier that year. I felt compelled to tell her that my father had died, too. We PROGENY, P21