Pass the Turkey, I’m Gay
Ray (left) with Janet and John
As I moved the dresser, I saw an empty space. Scattered voices of my family whisked through my head: "Ay naku, my son is a faggot!" "He's named after me -he can't be gay !" "Oh my God, my brother is a homo!" "But, but . . .how?"
It was my senior year in high school, and I couldn't believe someone in my family discovered my most classified secret.
How could I face my parents who wanted the perfect son? Or my homophobic siblings who dared not speak about an "unnatural" orientation in their family?
My older sister Janet was very outspoken about gay men, especially gay Filipinos. "Why would anyone want to be a homo?" she once said with a contorted look on her face. I guess Janet never thought about the similar question, "Why would anyone want to be straight?"
I remember my mom always asking me in her familiar Tagalog accent, "When will you ever bring home a girlfriend? I want to cook her some of my special lumpia (egg roll)." As always, I never answered the question.
John, my younger brother by three years, previously responded to a gay documentary by exclaiming, "Dude, that's totally sick!" l didn't think John understood the concept of homosexuality. He symbolized the Filipino machismo; he was born with an unlimited reservoir of testosterone.
Melissa, the youngest, pretended gay people didn't exist. "Gay people pretend they're gay," she once proclaimed.
As for my father, the most conservative businessman outside of Jesse Helms, he believed there should be laws prohibiting homosexuality.
For many years after the disappearance of the Safeway shopping bag, my paranoia grew (by a factor of at least 100) because no one in my family discussed the discovery. I was caught in a mental tug-of-war between what I felt was socially acceptable and what was real.
During college, however, I was exposed to positive images of gays and gay life as I learned about the "coming out" experiences of other gay Filipinos. The college atmosphere at Berkeley was a far cry from conservative Santa Barbara, California, where I grew up.
Gay Asian organizations such a Gay Asian Pacific Alliance (GAPA) provided support groups and social events to ease my coming-out process. Its membership comprised of other gay Filipinos who eventually became my friends and role models. Their experiences with their families and friends who have unconditionally accepted their sexual orientation gave me hope and comfort that my loved ones would eventually do the same. My learning experience gave me the confidence to tell my family I was gay.
On November 25, 1990, Janet, John, Melissa, my mom and I celebrated Thanksgiving back home in Santa Barbara. Since my parents divorced a few years earlier, my dad wasn't present.
How could I face my parents who wanted the perfect son?
During dinner, we discussed the familiar topics of school, future aspirations, work, and, of course, dating. As soon as my mom inquired about Janet's boyfriend, she quickly diverted to my dating status.
"Oy Ray, so what about you? Tell me about your girlfriend," my mom prodded. My heart sank, and I stared at everyone around the table. I heard, "Yeah, Ray, tell us” simultaneously from everyone else.
I looked straight into Janet's eyes for solace, and she stared back with a smile on her face. A few months earlier, I had told Janet I was gay while we were eating at a Thai restaurant. It took Janet a few weeks to accept the news. However, the positive support she received from both me and my friends facilitated her pledge to assist me in coming out to the rest of my family.
"Mom, I'm not seeing anyone," I responded ashamedly. "In fact, I don't have time to date because of my time and commitments to school, work, and extra-curricular activities."
"But naku, you'll eventually find someone. And I hope that I get at least ten grandchildren! " she insisted.
I took a long and deep second breath and said, "Mom, I'm pretty hungry. Can you please pass the turkey? I'm gay."
Silence.
Melissa's expression was one of horror. Janet's smile grew from large to gargantuan. John remained unsurprised but enjoyed the chaos around him.
As for my mom, she began to stutter, "Well... uh ...Ray, I know this cute man at work. I think you'd be a perfect match!"
I was stunned. My heart was pounding again at my chest. Why didn't my mom react negatively? Why didn't she cry like other mothers who discover their son or daughter is gay? Why didn't she throw me out of the house? I searched her face for the answers.
I realized that my mom had many close friends who also had gay children. Over the years, she saw how those parents continued to love and care for their children, despite their homosexuality.
Suddenly, everyone started asking me questions about homosexuality. "Do you practice safe sex with your partner?" "What's a gay bar like? Can you take me to one?"
Today, my family accepts me for who I am. Although my sexual orientation is different from theirs, they realized that I am still the same brother and son to my siblings and mother, respectively.
I frequently joke with Janet about gay lingo. With Melissa and my mom, I'm a bit more sedate when it comes to talking about gay topics.
And what about macho John? Of everyone in my family, I misjudged him the most. Under his Olympian sculptured physique and masculine personality is a sensitive and extremely open-minded brother. I remembered the infamous Thanksgiving dinner when I asked him a few years later, "So, um, John, what do you think about my homosexuality?"
John looked at me with a smirk on his face and replied, "Dude, I don't care if you're gay or not. You're my brother and I love you. I'll have mom's ten grandchildren. Anyway, I've always known you were gay because I found the Safeway shopping bag."•
First published in Filipinas Magazine, August 1992
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