I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t write about my own life experience in getting to know people who are gay. Mysteriously – and truthfully – I don’t recall learning that some people are gay. It just kind of became something I knew. In many ways, I consider myself lucky that I came of age in the late 60s, early 70s. Yes, I believed in the hippie messages of peace, love, accepting other people, fairness, and justice.
My family was a typical white Anglo-Saxon Protestant (aka WASP) but we weren’t exactly rich. My father never went past 8th grade and he always did physical labor. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized we lived at the poverty level. (She’s straying, where is this going?). Here’s where I’m going. Even with being white and straight, I knew the world wasn’t fair. I knew that kids with money had an easier time, I knew rich kids got into Ivy League schools, thanks to their alumni parents and I knew that women were supposed to stay home and have babies.