All posts by Editors

Satan’s Letter to Pat Robertson

Satan Dear Pat Robertson,


I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the
shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people
when they are down, so I'm all over that action. But when you say that
Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating. I may be evil
incarnate, but I'm no welcher.

   The way you put it, making a deal with me
leaves folks desperate and impoverished. Sure, in the afterlife, but
when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on
earth — glamor, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle.
Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And
Prthat was before
the earthquake.

Haven't you seen "Crossroads"?
Or "Damn Yankees"? If I had a thing going with Haiti, there'd be lots
of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox — that kind
of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing
against it — I'm just saying: Not how I roll.

You're doing great work, Pat, and I don't want to clip
your wings — just, come on, you're making me look bad. And not the
good kind of bad.

Keep blaming God. That's working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.

    Best, Satan

This was originally published in the Minneapolis Star Tribune in their Letters To the Editor section.  It was later revealed to have been written by a Lily Coyle of Minneapolis.

NOH8 Cindy

Noh8  Cindy McCain has posed for an ad released by the NOH8 campaign, a pro-gay-marriage effort that pictures celebrities with their mouths taped shut. McCain appears in the usual format: dressed in white, with "NOH8" painted on her cheek and silver duct tape across her mouth. 

John McCain opposed gay marriage during his 2008 presidential run, and his wife rarely speaks out on particular issues. McCain's office issued a statement saying that the senator respects differences of opinion between his family members, but still "believes the sanctity of marriage is only defined as between one man and one woman."

Or perhaps "between one man and one woman who thinks her husband is an idiot."?
 

WC81 – Bob Barzan on Leaving the Priesthood

Issue55 Leaving the Priesthood
Practical Advice for Roman Catholic Priests and Religious Men

Selections from the sadly departed www.Leavingthepriesthood.com website

By Bob Barzan

For
our 20th Anniversary we've decided to
to share from the treasures of our past, by choosing a number of pieces from our 80
issues.  This piece is a web exclusive and was
originally published in issue #55 of
White Crane (Winter 2002)

Barzan Introduction
Though many men have found rewarding lives in the priesthood, many, for a variety of reasons, have not or no longer do so. As a result, the path out of the priesthood is well worn. In the last thirty-five years, thousands of men have left the Roman Catholic priesthood, nearly 20,000 of them just in United States. Many thousands more have left religious life. Most have successfully made their way in the world with new careers, relationships, and living situations. The path is not necessarily easy. A major life change like this one can create a temporary feeling of panic and disorientation. Worries about future job opportunities, housing, health care, relationships, emotional support, or even opportunities for ministry can make for a fearful situation.

The creator of this website was Robert Barzan, a former Jesuit priest and later the founder of White Crane Newsletter, the antecedent publication to White Crane

Joseph Kramer was in the Society of Jesus for more than ten years. He left when he was twenty-eight years old and is now the director of EroSpirit Research Institute and a researcher in the area of erotic spirituality.

“During my years as a Jesuit, the meaning and direction of my life was clear. My commitment was to be a man for others living in a community of men with similar commitments. My desire was to do God's will by following in the footsteps of Jesus. But after ten years, I finally acknowledged that my special way of loving and serving others involved not celibacy but the gift of my sexuality.

“As I stepped off the treadmill of religious life, I asked myself, "How much of what I value must I change?" Just because I was not called to be celibate, do I have to give up living in a community of men committed to justice-doing and love-making? Did the fact that I left the Jesuits mean that I no longer wished to do God's will or be in relationship to Jesus?

“It was important for me to acknowledge every aspect of religious life that was nourishing and meaningful for me. I didn't want to give anything up-except celibacy. So, as a gay man, I started looking for new forms of monasticism that celebrate physically the dear love of comrades. I have been amazed at where that journey has taken me. One lesson I have learned is "Just because you leave the priesthood or religious life does not mean that you have to relinquish one iota of your spirituality."

Terrence Halloran was a priest of the diocese of Los Angeles for seven years before he left at age thirty-three. He is now a computer programmer and lives with his wife and children.

Most men who leave the priesthood or religious life enter the middle class and stay there. You will soon discover you can't afford the comfortable life style of the clergy and religious, unless you are single or both you and your spouse have careers outside the home. You will never get rich working for a large corporation, but the pay and benefits can add up to what you enjoyed in the priesthood or religious life. Don't feel you have to be a teacher or counselor or community organizer. You will soon notice that your seminary or religious community has educated you well for life in the real world. Try real estate, computer technology, or retail management, for example.

You do not have to change or abandon your faith when you leave the priesthood or religious life. The church may refuse to bless your sexual orientation, or your marriage, or your method of birth control, but most Catholic parishes are remarkably hospitable. Priests will baptize your children, ask forgiveness for your sins, and give you the word of God and the bread of life. Try praying at home and attending Mass as often as most other Catholics you know. Avoid parishes that put too much energy into classrooms, golf tournaments, and fashion shows. Jesus taught adults and played with children, the modern church does just the opposite.

Kevin McLaughlin left his diocese in 1995. He had been a priest for nearly seven years.

I was very blessed and fortunate to meet other men who had left the ministry before me. I believe these men were put in my path by God to offer me the guidance I needed. Each was able help me focus various aspects of the transition. One, for example, gave me a great deal of assistance with the process of networking. Another offered me great support by challenging me to expand my search for a new career. And still another was a great sounding board on my budding relationship with the woman who eventually became my wife. 

What I found very affirming and, I must admit, somewhat surprising (though now I don't know why) was the strong sense of community among those of us who have passed through clerical ordained ministry in the Church. It is sad to say, but I never really found that same sense of community and fraternity (that the Church seems to want the world to believe exists) within the clergy. I count many of these men I met in the transition to be genuine friends of my soul…even though I have not seen some of them in a few years.

Jody Blanchard left his religious order at age forty, after twenty-one years. He now lives in New Orleans and is a pastoral care worker in a hospice situation.

I believe that all of life's transitions require courage, good self-esteem, and a goal for the future. Hopefully your courage will come from within and from support of friends and family. In dealing with friends and family, always be honest and try not to make too many excuses or give long explanations. I wrote a letter to family members first, then I spoke to them. It helped.

In the transition start off slowly-don't buy too many things or expect to have it all in one year. Most of all remember that you are vulnerable in many ways, so don't seek out other needy, vulnerable people to "satisfy your needs." Seek to develop healthy relationships and give yourself time to grow, adjust, and love.

After a short time in a Benedictine monastery, Michael Vickery returned to life as a secretary in San Francisco at age forty-two in 1993.

After taking three months off just to sleep in, relax, detox, and watch Charlie Chaplin movies, I bought a couple of suits on sale, got a friend to update my resume, interviewed through an employment agency, and landed a good job, where I've been ever since.

John Anderson was a Jesuit for thirty years, twenty as a priest. He left when he was in his mid-fifties in the early 1990s.

I was successful as a teacher, pastoral minister, and Jesuit superior. I left the priesthood and the order when I was approaching my mid-fifties. I did so with few regrets and in my deepest consciousness I realize I did the right thing.

First piece of advice: Don't expect any real support from church/religious life officials both in the process of leaving and its immediate aftermath. Secondly, the ultimate feeling of freedom is exhilarating; the trade off is that in the past we had most of our necessities of life taken care of, all of a sudden we must rely on ourselves for mere survival. You should not discount your talents and innate generosity that underpinned your religious vocation in seeking employment. Also, I have found that as jaded as we liked to consider ourselves in religious life in terms of creature comforts, we are accustomed to living somewhat modestly in contrast to the peers we encounter in professional life.

I discovered very quickly how proficient I truly was once I was out of the Society, out of church employment, and I started to work for a living. The positive feedback was at first overwhelming. Unless it is absolutely necessary, I recommend avoiding Catholic Church related jobs.  Church officials will never accept you, especially these days when your presence can be interpreted as an underlying threat by some.

Relationships will come along. I nearly despaired of ever finding someone to share my ideals and my life with, but soon enough that person came along. In that relationship I found all the theology of human love manifesting God's love a reality. I never felt holier than when we were expressing our love for each other. In my case, my lover died after we had been together for a couple of years. However, I wouldn't trade the joy and happiness I experienced at that time for anything.

Leaving is part of a journey. Since leaving I have found myself to be more compassionate, understanding, forgiving, and loving. In the journey you will encounter more friends and ultimately form your own community of support. In religious life I always found a certain expected politeness even in casual relationships which often covered over any real feelings. Getting used to being treated with honesty and treating others accordingly I find fascinating.

Marcus Fleischhacker left the Crosier Fathers and Brothers in 1994, at age forty-nine, after twenty years as a priest and thirty years in religious life, including ten in formation work. He is now a resource coordinator for the AIDS Survival Project.

I had begun a sabbatical in January, and at the end of the year I was to receive a new assignment. My conscious intention was to remain in the community and priesthood. Looking back, unconsciously I had already decided to leave, and I suspect, some of my friends and superiors knew it as well. In any case, the sabbatical proved to be a good preparation. I moved from the center of my community and biological family in Minnesota to Atlanta where I knew only three people. As it turned out, I was slowly, not radically, moving to independence.

It was the first time in my life that I lived alone. I could experiment yet maintain ties with family and community. The most helpful book I read was Living Alone and Liking It, by Lynn Shahan, a practical and emotional guide on how to live alone.

In a matter of days after becoming aware of my decision to leave, I told my superiors, the local religious community I was assigned to, my siblings and their spouses, and my close friends. Then I wrote a letter to everyone else, sending out 125 in one day. I wanted everyone to hear from me that I was leaving and why. I did not want rumors to fly, gossip and suspicion to take hold. I wanted them to know I left because I could no longer be a closeted gay priest in a church that did not want me. The point is not so much why I left, as that I told everyone at the same time my story in my words. No rumors, no gossip. I received almost 100 letters and calls of support and understanding. It felt — it feels — great! The truth shall set you free!

On a spiritual and psychological level, I found peace by realizing that my decision to leave was not a radical change of direction in my life, rather, it was another step on a continuum I had been on for a long time: a continuum of searching for freedom, asking the difficult and scary questions, claiming my own consciousness and truth, celebrating my goodness, and not my sinfulness and unworthiness. Innumerable people tell me I exhibited unbelievable courage in leaving, but I sense I was (am) just being true to myself. All my life, spiritual directors and preachers talked about seeking the truth. I took them at their word and here I am.

So my decision to leave was not a sharp turn to the right or the left, it was just the next step in the process of living my life. Seeing it that way makes it less ominous and dramatic. I am still on the same road, going in the same direction.

Seeing it that way has also helped me deal with the way people's perception and response to me has changed. I no longer get to go to the head of the line at funeral buffets. I no longer get twenty-dollar bills slipped into my hands when I visit aunts. I find it easier to leave behind those ritual responses to a ritual person when I realize I am on a personal journey and always have been. It may look different and prompt different reaction, but it's the same journey and perhaps even a more authentic one now. I have not so much "lost my identity," as found it.

Friendships

Your relationships with friends will be a solid source of support during your transition to secular life. Rely on your trusted and wise friends. They will help you keep a sense of reality about what you are doing, provide worthy advice, material support, and emotional comfort. Most people are very willing to help a friend in need, especially when it involves such a major life change as leaving the priesthood.

Romantic Relationships

It is a good idea to save romantic relationships for after you have firmly decided to leave the priesthood. Beginning a romance before you have made your decision can immensely complicate your discernment. Ideally, I recommend that you save romantic relationships for after you have made a successful change to secular life. Looking for an apartment, a new job, moving, and dating are usually more than most men can handle. Once you are on your feet, you will be ready for the joys and stresses of dating and romance if you should choose to seek them.

If you have never dated before, or have a limited amount of experience, I recommend that you go slowly. You might profit from joining a support group where you can learn the ins and outs of romantic relationships with, and from, other men.

Salvatore Giambanco left the Jesuits after nine years at age thirty-two. He now works as a technical recruiter in California's Silicon Valley.

In the area of relationships, if you were a "good" religious and never fell in love, proceed with caution. If you were a religious who dabbled in relationships, proceed with caution. Just proceed with caution and remember there is no such thing as the perfect relationship.

For me, falling in love has been the best part of leaving religious life. There is absolutely no substitute for waking up in the morning next to someone you really care about and who cares about you. Rule of thumb, date, fool around, have sex, get horny, masturbate, etc. as much as you like once you get out. However, no serious commitments for at least 8 months to a year on the conservative side. More than one year is good.

Even though many of us often gave relationship advice as religious, theory and reality are very different. Always take it slowly, and use the "love" word very cautiously. Don't go from one prison to another and then have to go through this whole process all over again.

Good luck, It's not easy, but many thousands of men have made the transition over the past thirty years. You can do it too.

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WC81 – 20th Anniversary Issue

 81COVER

Issue #81

White Crane's
20th Anniversary Issue

Hi Friends!
Below are excerpts from our latest issue! 
Please understand that we rely on the
support of subscribers to keep going.


So,
subscribe today and keep the conversation going!  Consider giving a gift subscription to your friends who could use some wisdom!


Columns

"Watch This Space" From Bo Young
"The Big Two-Oh" PRAXIS by Andrew Ramer


Departments

Call for Submissions
Subscriber Information
Contribution Information


Featured

A WHITE CRANE CONVERSATION
Two Spirits
A Dialogue with filmmaker
Lydia Nibley about the
documentary Two Spirits.

Clap If You Believe In Faeries
Mark Thompson & Don Kilhefner
on the 30th Anniversary of the First Radical Faerie Gathering

A WHITE CRANE CONVERSATION
The Temperamentals
Bo Young Speaks with playwright John Marans.

A Taste of Twenty Years

Gay Intuition
By Toby Johnson
    From White Crane #58

The Cult of Masculinity
By Arthur Evans
    From White Crane #11

Portrait of An Artist As a Zen Monk
A Conversation with Don Bachardy
By Victor Marsh   
From White Crane #71

Leaving the Priesthood   Web Exclusive
By Bob Barzan
    From White Crane #55

2009-07-29_013343Gandalf the Gay
By Josh Adler
    From White Crane #60

Call Me Ennis del Marlow
By Bryn Marlow
    From White Crane #68

More Than A Sum of Parts
By Darrell g.h. Schramm
    From White Crane #17

Gay Intuition
By Toby Johnson
    From White Crane #58

Culture Reviews

The Second Coming
By Joel Anastasi
Reviewed by Toby Johnson

Vladmaster
By Vladimir
Reviewed by Bo Young

Two Spirits
By Lydia Nibley
Reviewed by Bo Young 

Subscribe today and keep the conversation going!  Consider giving a gift subscription to
your friends who could use some wisdom!  If there's an article listed
above that was not excerpted online, copies of this issue are available
for purchase.  Contact us at editors@gaywisdom.org

For more White Crane, become a fan on Facebook and join us on Yahoogroups.

WC81 – Thompson & Kilhefner on 1st Radical Faerie Gathering

81_kilhefnerthompson 

Mark Thompson &  Don Kilhefner On the
30th Anniversary of the First Radical Faerie Gathering

Authors and community elders, Mark Thompson and Don Kilhefner have been collecting memories from radical faeries around the country to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the first Faerie gathering this year. A book collected from these memories is in the planning stages as of this writing edited by the two of them. Mark and Don sat down and talked about it for White Crane:

Mark Thompson: The Radical Faeries at 30. Wow! Who among us standing on the reddish sands of a remote desert ashram in 1979 could have imagined that?

Thirty is such an archetypal age for gay men—youth is over and what awaits each of us as the road narrows and thickens in the years ahead is unknown and in many cases cast away. But that first gathering was a seminal event that deeply marked the lives of each of the 200 men who had gathered there. It was a queer inner initiation by a sacred fire—and then by some wet earth and water, too!

Don Kilhefner: Thirty years later, I still get goose bumps when I think of the closing ceremony of the first Radical Fairy gathering in the Sonora desert night. For a brief moment you, Mark, saw a bull with two large horns on a hill overlooking our ceremony. I felt the presence of benevolent, helpful spirits during the entire gathering. And you are right, it was an initiation—a profound initiation—in the true sense of that word as in beginning something new, initiating a new way for us as gay men to be with each other and think about ourselves. The wet earth and water to which you refer must be the Mud Ritual.

Like much of the gathering, there was a spontaneous, in the moment feel to it, as we co-created with Gay Spirit. After lunch one day, someone just announced that a Mud Ritual was taking place and the Fairies carried buckets after buckets out into the desert where the water was mixed with the red earth.  Then chanting sacred songs, each Fairy present was lovingly and gently covered from head to toe with red mud. As the chanting continued, they formed a circle which slowly moved in on itself until every one was embracing every one else—with OM reverberating over the whole gathering.  It was truly magical to the bone. When people say to me that the Radical Fairies are ‘New Age,” I always correct them by saying actually we are Old Stone Age and to the Radical Fairies—Judaism, Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam are New Age phenomena.

Mark: So much was ignited in the immediate aftermath of that initial gathering.  Can you tell us some of those results? And then about some of the dissipation that happened after that? And then the cycle of re-imagining we seem to be in today—at least in some places in the world.

Don: In the Spring of 1978, when Harry Hay and I sat along the Rio Grande as it flowed past San Juan Pueblo in New Mexico and first discussed the possibility of such a gathering, we could not see where it all might lead. What we did know is that it was time for visionary gay men to meet and talk with each other as we saw the original, white hot creative energy of the Gay Liberation movement being vampirized by more conventional gay bourgeois politics and unimaginative gay assimilation.

There were three national gatherings. The original gathering in Arizona in 1979, the second gathering in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado sponsored by the Denver Fairies; and the third gathering in New Mexico. At the same time these national gatherings were happening, regional and local gatherings were springing up everywhere and decentralization has characterized the Radical Fairies every since with each region and city taking on its own unique features—most are for gay men only, some heteros and homos, and some men and women.  But initially the Radical Fairies were created by Hay and me as an rare opportunity for gay men to come together in spirit, brotherhood, and purpose in a natural setting.

Mark: Still, for most gay men today, the Radical Fairies appear more mythical than real.  What happened to that original genesis spark and what can we do to reignite it in ways that would make sense for us today.

Don: I see the Radical Fairies, now as then, as both mythical and real at the same time. From my training in and practice of gay shamanism, I know that it is sometimes difficult to know where one world ends and another begins. Cutting edge contemporary physics also has this challenge with string theory and its extension brane (as in membrane) theory which says that multiple, parallel worlds (branes) exist at the same time. In other words, reality is multidimensional. Radical Fairies often experience this—the mythical realm and the middle world realm at the same time.

But getting to the root of your question, what was the original genesis of the Radical Fairies. It was more or less threefold. First, was a attempt to bring together gay men with second sight to talk about the direction of the Gay Liberation movement, to open up the next stage of development for us as gay men. By that I mean to explore the meaning of being gay and what do gay men contribute to society. We know from evolutionary biology that we would not be reappearing generation after generation, millennium after millennium, until we were contributing to the survival of our species.

This questioning has been complicated by the identity than has been laid on us by our oppressors—homosexual—and we carry it around like a ball and chain around our ankle. We have had the tail wagging the dog. And the Radical Fairies, in part, were created to ignite an exploration and manifestation of a new gay man self-defined outside of the slave name “homosexual.” Harry and I were encouraging gay men to make a jail break.

Secondly, we saw from that new understanding of who were are and what we are contributing, we saw the Radical Fairies as being political but not using the old paradigm of left and right and the old political descriptors. But the next stage of Gay Liberation would be gay-centered in a way that would allow us to communicate to the dominant culture what it is we are doing in society. Walt Whitman, Edward Carpenter, and Hay in the Purpose Statement of the Mattachine Society were dancing around the same question. We are yin to their yang. E.O. Wilson, the dean of American evolutionary biology at Harvard, in his On Human Nature states: “There is a strong possibility that homosexuality is a distinctive beneficent behavior that evolved as an import element of early human social organization. Homosexuals may be the genetic carriers of some of mankind’s most altruistic impulses.” Joan Roughgarden, an evolutionary biologist at Stanford, has written Evolution’s Rainbow: Gender and Sexuality in Nature and People in which she suggest we are the carriers of “cooperation” wherever we are found in nature.

Finally, the Radical Fairy gatherings represent the kind of larger, and healthier, gay community Fairies want to create and live in. A community in which we can be visibly and openly “gay” in the widest sense of that word; we value the gifts of each person and weave those gifts into the fabric of community life; we feed each other both spiritually and literally; we honor ancestors, require elders, depend on adults, and invite youth; we assume our responsibilities not only to the gay community but to the larger community of beings; we are environmentally conscious and work to protect and heal the planet; we perform the necessary rituals and ceremonies that keep a community sane and healthy; we are culturally aware and creative; and we play and have fun.

Many Radical Faerie gatherings today have become social gatherings with little connection to the original roots and vision of the Radical Faeries. What is needed today is a national gathering of Radical Fairies to again allow gay men the rare opportunity of coming together in spirit, brotherhood and purpose again. If such a gathering were to be organized, at least a thousand would show up, many of them younger gay men looking for an alternative to the empty calories of gay assimilation.

The Radical Faerie Reader, edited by Mark Thompson and Don Kilhefner will be published sometime in 2010.

For more White Crane, become a fan on Facebook and join us on Yahoogroups.

Subscribe today and keep the conversation going!  Consider giving a gift subscription to
your friends who could use some wisdom!  If there's an article listed
above that was not excerpted online, copies of this issue are available
for purchase.  Contact us at editors@gaywisdom.org

WC81 – Josh Adler’s Gandalf the Gay

Issue60 Gandalf the Gay
By Josh Adler

For
our 20th Anniversary Issue we've decided to
to share from the treasures of our past, by choosing a number of pieces from our 80
issues.  This piece was
originally published in Issue #60 of
White Crane (Spring 2004)

My 16 year-old brother Chad is a Lord of the Rings junkie, and during my most recent visit home to Virginia, he insisted on screening the trilogy’s first two extended DVDs before venturing to the multiplex to see the final installation of the Oscar-winning epic. There is an inherent heterosexual maleness that dominates the landscape of Peter Jackson’s faithful adaptation, and cults of ardent straight boys not only flock to the theater for multiple viewings but desperately try to convert their Gay brothers into similarly zealous devotees. It’s hard for me to tell Chad that I’d much rather see Robert Altman’s new film about Joffrey ballerinas than sit through another four hours of warfare on Middle Earth, so with feigned enthusiasm I agreed to oblige him for this brother-bonding experience.

The Good Wizard Gandalf appeared onscreen early into The Return of the King, and Chad did something that startled me. In the crowded theater, he leaned over our enormous tub of popcorn and whispered into my ear, “Is Ian McKellan really Gay?”

Let me preface my response with a little history. I came out to Chad last summer, shortly after his sixteenth birthday. Not only did he tell me that he disagreed with my lifestyle, but he said, “I really wish that you never told me this. Honestly, I’d rather not know.”

His reaction was hurtful and condemning, but as his older brother I tried to see beyond his words and examine the situation from his perspective. Just as accepting one’s sexuality is a unique process for Gay men, a straight teenager coming to terms with a gay sibling or loved one is equally challenging. Less than six months later, Chad felt comfortable asking me openly about Ian McKellan’s sexual preference; I took this as a positive sign that he is growing into his acceptance and understanding.

“Yeah,” I whispered back, a bit surprised that we were having a discussion about Gay celebrities in the Hampton AMC 24. “Actually, he is one of the few out-gay actors in Hollywood.”

“Wow,” Chad replied, nodding his head and sitting back in his seat to watch Gandalf the Gay gallop on a white horse on his quest to defeat the forces of darkness and save the human race from oppression and fear.

Like the benign Hobbits of J.R.R. Tolkien’s fantasy, Chad reveres the Good Wizard Gandalf in the same way that a Catholic respects his parish priest, a Boy Scout looks up to his Scoutmaster or an American patriot admires his President. Gandalf is an Elder, a wise man who possesses both worldly and spiritual leadership qualities and assumes a position of greatness in the eyes of the younger and less experienced community. Even before Jackson decided to make his film, the character of Gandalf has been deified by legions of Tolkien readers who see him as a God-like elder capable of transforming the world into a better place.

Similarly, the actor playing Gandalf is a kind of Elder for me and many other gay men, actors and non-actors, who see his willingness to play heroic roles in mainstream films as something of great value to our community. We all know that there are probably other Hollywood action heroes who remain closeted in order to appease the dominant heterosexual paradigm. Sir Ian owns his homosexuality on the Fellowship of the Rings DVD documentary, and he feels free to kiss his partner openly in front of TV cameras at prestigious award ceremonies. He doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not simply to get cast in macho roles or receive huge contracts.

Not only is Sir Ian one of the few gay men in Hollywood to embrace his homosexuality, but this 64 year-old Elder is also an activist in the gay community in the United Kingdom. He is a founder and active member of the Stonewall Group U.K., an organization that works to further legal rights for lesbians and gays in England. In 1988 he came out publicly on the BBC Radio 4 program by denouncing Margaret Thatcher’s “Section 28” proposal which aimed to criminalize the “public promotion of homosexuality.” Since then, his activist stance on political issues has empowered the gay community in the U.K. and abroad.

An Elder sets positive examples for the younger generation and instills a sense of optimism and forward thinking in peoples’ lives. Sir Ian, knighted by the Queen in 1990, appears in both mainstream movies (X-Men and X2 and the Rings trilogy) as well as many independent art-house films, many of which have gay themes (Gods and Monsters and Bent). He has also appeared in a music video for the Pet Shop Boys. His career has taken off since his coming out in the late 80s, and he jokingly mentions wanting to go back in the closet so he can live a simple and quiet life again. “I am going back in the closet. But I can’t get back into the closet, because it’s absolutely jam-packed full of other actors.”

In addition to his activism, Sir Ian possesses a kind of passion for life and a positive outlook on the world around him. This is evident in the journals that he kept during the entire filming process of Lord of the Rings. He has aptly titled his journals The Grey Book and The White Book after Gandalf’s transformation in the trilogy, and they can be accessed online at his website. Many entries talk about his joyful attachment to the project and his admiration for Peter Jackson and the unique vision he brought to the film. Sir Ian’s journals also contain photographs of him enjoying the natural beauty of New Zealand and communing with his cast mates. In one entry he talks about “finding Gandalf in himself” and in another he refers to the “Gandalf twinkle,” the magic spark that makes this mystical leader so adored by the Hobbits.

Ian McKellan is a Gay Elder not only because of his leadership and activism, but because he continues to project a sense of confidence and awareness despite elements of homophobia and hatred directed toward him. Many Lord of the Rings chat rooms on the Internet include anti-Gay postings by fans of the film who somehow can’t fathom a Gay Gandalf. In fact, a Google search of “Gay Gandalf” yields over 30,000 sites, many of which include disparaging remarks about McKellan’s sexuality. McKellan has not tried to hide from this bigotry by ignoring his Gay identity; rather, he has remained publicly proud and assured in the face of discrimination.

The gorgeous conclusion to The Return of the King makes the entire trilogy worthwhile. Frodo destroys the Ring, the fighting ends and the Hobbits return peacefully to their bucolic home where they are warmly embraced by their community. The film also becomes extremely gay, in that it is unafraid to show men kissing, embracing, crying and literally carrying each other on their backs. When tears started to run down my cheeks, my brother Chad gave me a little nudge.

“Stop crying, Josh,” he said, embarrassed that his queer brother was daring to exhibit emotion in public. I nudged him back, lovingly.

“There’s nothing wrong with tears,” I said to him, blurry-eyed. He nodded, the same nod he gave me three hours prior when he accepted Gandalf’s sexuality. These are baby steps, but my brother is slowly growing into an understanding of the Gay Soul. I look forward to the day that he’ll revere me as an Elder, an older presence who offers him a new perspective on the world.

Josh Adler is a writer and director who lives in Manhattan. At the time of this writing he was working on his Master’s in Educational Theatre at New York University.

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WC81 – Bryn Marlow’s Call Me Ennis Del Marlow

Issue68 Call Me Ennis Del Marlow
By Bryn Marlow

For
our 20th Anniversary Issue we've decided to to share from the treasures of our past, by choosing
a number of pieces from our 80
issues.
This piece was
originally published in Issue #68 of
White Crane (Spring 2006).  It was later featured in and issue of UTNE magazine.

I close the door to the girls’ bedroom, roll the old swivel chair against it, stand the laundry basket on end behind that. I turn and smile at Serge. He returns my grin. This is our favorite part of the day. I watch him wriggle out of his red t-shirt emblazoned with a huge mosquito and the caption, “Minnesota state bird.” He slips out of his European-cut blue jeans, into the double bed. “Are you not coming then?” he whispers. I exhale, long and slow.

Until this summer, I believed men’s underwear came only in white, as boxers or briefs. ’Often as I have seen them, I am still scandalized by his black bikinis. They seem so exotic, daring, a tad dangerous and like the things we do in bed, very exciting. 

We met in England last year as team leaders at a camp for children from London’s inner city. He followed up with a visit to the States late this summer. Our renewed friendship is going places I have never been before. 

I take one step towards the bed when the by-now-familiar sensation hits again. I am a million miles from here climbing a narrow mountain path. My feet slip, I go over the edge. In a panic I grab at grass, dirt, rocks, a branch, anything. Somehow I hold on. My heart pounds, joints quake, everything goes red, black.
The moment passes. I catch my breath, listen to the comforting murmur of my parents’ voices from the kitchen. My brothers have retired to their bunks in the boys’ bedroom, the youngest to rest on his laurels. He bested us all in Masterpiece, tonight’s family board game of choice. To win, one must invest wisely in fine art, avoid forgeries, know when to cash in. My brother is good at identifying fakes. This scares me.
I drop my bib overalls, unbutton my striped shirt. My fair skin, almost as white as my underwear, makes a marked contrast to Serge’s olive complexion. I caress his face, comb my fingers through his long dark curls. 

I love this man, whether I know it or not. He makes me happy. I laugh when he is around. We are always talking–politics, religion, life, its big questions and little ones, our observations of the world, including the irritating things he notices about Americans. (He tells me whatever I see in him is by definition an endearing quality of all Frenchmen.)

We get on famously, and if we do not, I fail to notice it. Literally. Last month he grew angry at me over something. He sulked (the French national pastime, he calls it) and avoided me for days. I thought he needed space and let him be, which only fueled his anger. By day four he gave up, we made up, made love. Now we laugh about it. I have forgotten what he was mad about in the first place. 

Pressed against him I shudder softly, breathe his name, “Serge.” I always mispronounce it. My tongue will not wrap around the proper “Sairgszh,” so I Americanize it, say his name as if it were a jolt of electricity, “Surge.” Although it is said wrong, it speaks my truth aright. When it comes to him, what is wrong is right. Oh, so right.

Except that it is not. Two men together? When I think of this an inner voice rumbles in King James English, “Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned? His own iniquities shall take the wicked, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sin.”

I copied these Bible verses and others into my prayer journal earlier in the week. I live this way. I make up for being defective by being holy. I am the piñata I made for my mother, soggy strips of religion, my pasty attempts at righteousness, layered around a hollow shell, no sweets inside. 

Last wash day my mother nearly busted everything wide open when she turned back the bed to reveal a blue nylon sleeping bag. “What is this? What is it doing here?” I felt my feet go off the cliff. I grabbed a branch. “Serge, um, gets cold at night.” She bought my story, now makes him take vitamin E capsules to improve his circulation. In reality, the sleeping bag is our latest ploy for assuaging my conscience. It successfully serves as a chastity belt some nights, allowing us to be close, me to be holy. 

Serge reaches back and up, turns the knob of the yellowed bed lamp hooked over the headboard. I love the cataract of muscle rippling in his arm, the flat planes of his body, the sound of his breathing, the sweet-sour smell of him. He is unimaginably dear to me.

A thousand yellow roses bloom on the wallpaper. The soft light illumines the built-in closet, dresser and desk opposite us, the bookshelves my father built, the dresser bought at the church camp auction sale. The two windows open to the crickets’ evening concert. Katydids join the chorus tonight, announcing the first frost in three weeks’ time. They have it wrong. The big chill arrives three days from now when Serge boards a plane bound for New York, Paris, Toulouse. Already my bones ache with cold.

He sits up. “Three days until airplane Black Friday.” This is old news. He pulls me up to sit facing him, caresses my cheek, looks long into my eyes. “Listen up, Bucko, I want to tell you what I am thinking of, what I am dreaming of. It will be a long time before we see each other again. We will see each other again, please God. I shall miss you. Already I miss you and you are right here. I love you, as I have told you many times. My heart will be empty. Right, it does not have to be this way. We could live together and share our activities. Come to Europe. We could live in England or Ireland, if you like, or in France, even. You would have no excuse for not learning to speak French then, you Yankee Hamburger. The thing is, we could make a life together, you and I.” He exhales a loud puff of air, stretches his fingers wide, expectant. “What do you say? Will you do it?” 

The air in the room gets very thin. Bed and all, I am going over the cliff. What is there to hold on to? I see with sudden clarity that my panic is about mousetraps, not mountains. My father used to pay me to set and empty traps–a nickel for every mouse I caught. I carried each day’s catch down to the coal furnace in our basement, swung open the heavy cast iron door. Unwilling to touch death, I would hold the trap by its edges, dangle the soft satin body over the glowing coals, prise up the killing edge of the copper wire, watch the little corpse drop away. This, then, is my recurring panic: I am the mouse. The trap has sprung. Caught dead to rights, I am hanging in air. If I say yes I will lift the copper wire, surely tumble into the depths of hell. I scrabble for a handhold.

“Oh, Serge.” My voice catches in my throat. “I could never go with you. I know in my heart there is no future in such a life, no happiness. Not for me, not for you, not for anybody.”
We are silent. My ready answer has landed with all the delicacy of a sucker punch. I watch his face stiffen. He nods. It is OK. He understands. He is sorry he asked. He wants only what I want. He wants me to be happy.

I look at him across the divide of our desires, through curtains of tears. I want him to be happy, too, really I do. What can I say? I vision our future. “Serge, we are both going to get married, find a woman, be very happy. You wait and see. ’Tell you what, when I get married I want you to be in my wedding. I will send you a plane ticket, OK?” Sure. We make a pact. We will both attend each other’s wedding, pay the other’s plane fare. Fine. This takes care of our future, but what do we do with this present space between us?

Serge moves first. He slides his feet into the sleeping bag, zips it up to his chest, lies on his back, staring at the cracked ceiling. I lie beside him feeling no holiness in our chastity tonight, only an aching emptiness that swallows the world, this lonesome, noisy, knock-about world. The katydids have it right. The cold is coming. What do we have but this moment? I unzip the bag, tug it off him, let it dangle over the side of the bed, slip away.

For more White Crane, become a fan on Facebook and join us on Yahoogroups.

Subscribe today and keep the conversation going!  Consider giving a gift subscription to
your friends who could use some wisdom!  If there's an article listed
above that was not excerpted online, copies of this issue are available
for purchase.  Contact us at editors@gaywisdom.org