Is your child destined to become a homosexual? Perhaps! Researchers looking into the onset of sexuality in children have come up with a checklist (okay, that's a serious oversimplification) to determine if your wee one is a "pre-homosexual." And it's not just whether little Billy prefers to play with Barbies.
Scientific American points us to research from J. Michael Bailey, a psychologist from Northwestern University, and Canadian psychiatrist Kenneth Zucker:
So on the basis of some earlier, shakier research, along with a good dose of common sense, Bailey and Zucker hypothesized that homosexuals would show an inverted pattern of sex-typed childhood behaviors (little boys preferring girls as playmates and infatuated with their mothers’ make-up kits; little girls strangely enamoured by field hockey or professional wrestling…that sort of thing). Empirically, explain the authors, there are two ways to investigate the relation between sex-typed behaviors and later sexual orientation. The first of these is to use a prospective method, in which young children displaying sex-atypical patterns are followed longitudinally into adolescence and early adulthood, such that the individual’s sexual orientation can be assessed at reproductive maturity. Usually this is done by using something like the famous Kinsey Scale, which involves a semistructured clinical interview about sexual behavior and sexual fantasies to rate people on a scale of 0 (exclusively heterosexual) to 6 (exclusively homosexual). I’m a solid 6; I often say that I wanted to get out of a vagina at one point in my life, but ever since then I’ve never had the slightest interest in going back into one.
The research is actually somewhat old (1995) but has been expounded upon by further studies. Which are slightly uncomfortable to read!
Another caveat is that researchers in this area readily concede that there are probably multiple—and no doubt very complicated—developmental routes to adult homosexuality. Heritable, biological factors interact with environmental experiences to produce phenotypic outcomes, and this is no less true for sexual orientation than it is for any other within-population variable. Since the prospective and retrospective data discussed in the foregoing studies often reveal very early emerging traits in prehomosexuals, however, those children who show pronounced sex-atypical behaviors may have “more” of a genetic loading to their homosexuality, whereas gay adults who were sex-typical as children might trace their homosexuality more directly to particular childhood experiences. For example, in a rather stunning case of what I’ll call “say-it-isn’t-so science”—science that produces data that rebel against popular, politically correct, or emotionally appealing sentiments—controversial new findings published earlier this year in the Archives of Sexual Behavior hint intriguingly that men—but not women—who were sexually abused as children are significantly more likely than non-abused males to have had homosexual relationships as adults.
Part of me wants to think "Oh god, tell me that Richard Cohen isn't right." And the other part of me thinks, "If all these bigots really don't want their sons to turn out gay, they'll actually work harder to keep their kids safe from pedophiles. Like those in the Catholic Church."
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
一张小抄·一个阿嬷的勇敢故事
A very touching story about a brave mother who travelled half the globe to find her daughter and grandchildren. The story was turned into an advertisement short clip by acclaimed director Thanonchai Sornsrivichai.
母爱就是如此伟大~
才知道这支广告是请来了全世界排名第一的坎城金奖泰国导演塔诺在（Thanonchai Sornsriwichai）拍摄的。
转贴：一张小抄·一个阿嬷的勇敢故事
因为采访，到过许多地方、遇见许多人、听到许多故事...
2006年12月14日，深夜11 点24 分，我和摄影小咼在美国洛杉矶国际机场，排队等通关。
从萨尔瓦多飞来这，很自然地，队伍几乎都是拉丁美洲人，除了我、摄影小咼， 还有那位排在队伍前头、背着一个贴有" 徐鶯瑞" 字样的欧巴桑。
她那张大大的A4 纸，实在很难不引起他人注意，
原因不只是白纸黑字太过醒目，
更是因为那张A4纸，是用细细的透明胶带，捆了几十圈，
狠狠地黏在她的黑色包包上。
很 " 俗"，可不是？
" 一定是大陆客 "，我心里这样想着。
那位"徐鶯瑞"不时回过头来，注意着我和小咼，而我和小咼两人嘴里聊的是宏都拉斯的采访心得，心里却同时注意到这位有点" 俗"的阿嬷。
队伍是以S 型的方式前进，在一个转弯处，" 徐鶯瑞" 和我们有了最近的距离，这时，她突然转过头来问我：「你会不会说国语？」我点了点头，她立刻把一张纸递到我手上，同时，指着营光笔画的一行字：『我要在洛杉矶出境，有朋友在外接我』
"徐鶯瑞" 问我，过海关是不是应该比这一行？
当我看到那张小抄的当下，我的眼泪差点飙了下来....
眼前的这位，原本我以为"很俗"的阿嬷，
其实是一位为了探视女儿，
带着小抄、换了四班飞机、闯了半个地球的"勇敢的台湾阿嬷"！
被揉得烂烂的小抄，每一行中文字都会用绿色营光笔标示出来，方便阿嬷阅读；
小抄第一行，用中文写着『我要到哥斯大黎加看女儿，请问是在这里转机吗？ 』
接下来的一行是英文翻译，第三行则是西班牙翻译。
第二题的中文是『我要去领行李，能不能带我去，谢谢！ 』
然后又是英文及西班牙语的翻译。
这张像是考前重点提示的纸，明显地告诉我，
这位夹在拉丁美洲人群中的阿嬷，
是带着这一张小抄，独自一人从台湾飞到哥斯大黎加！
台湾怎么飞哥斯大黎加？
首先，搭十二个小时的飞机，从台北飞美国，
然后再从美国飞五个多小时到中美洲的转运中心--萨尔瓦多，
接着，再从萨尔瓦多飞哥斯大黎加，
如果再加上这位阿嬷先从台南飞桃园机场，
那么，她一共换了四班飞机。
萨尔瓦多和哥斯大黎加讲的是西班牙语，
这也就是为何女儿给的小抄，还得附上西班牙语。
只是，很多时候，遇到的状况，小抄上找不到题目。
阿嬷指着另一边的队伍，告诉我，
『我刚刚排旁边的队伍，结果他们比这边，我才又赶快来这边排队，
我排这边对不对啊？ 』
我笑一笑，向她解释旁边是持美国护照，这边才是旅客的队伍，
递回小抄，我轻轻拍了一下她的臂膀，告诉她，
「没问题了，现在只剩下美国飞台北的回程班机，讲台语也会通呦」。
没有儿子的" 徐鶯瑞" 告诉我，
十年前，女儿跟着女婿移民到哥斯大黎加，
这十年来，女儿只回过台湾一次，是孙子一岁时，
现在，女儿生了第二胎，" 徐瑞莺" 特地飞到哥斯大黎加帮女儿坐月子，
一解思念女儿及孙子的情怀。
原本，女儿坐完月子要陪着妈妈到洛杉矶转机，
结果因为买不到机票而作罢。
至于那张写着大大" 徐鶯瑞" 的白纸，
是因为回台湾的华航班机是隔天下午，
而我们抵达LA的时间是晚上十一点多，
所以女儿特地请洛杉矶的朋友来接妈妈住一晚，
为了方便相认，徐瑞莺特地在包包上贴了斗大的A4 纸...
知道"徐鶯瑞"的旅程，有多么困难重重吗？
首先，从台北飞洛杉矶转机时，必须先步出入境航厦，到隔壁大楼，
而那栋大楼是一栋非常长的建筑物，
你必须沿着大楼走廊的告示牌：KLM、 NW 、 TACA、 AA，等等英文缩写前进。
KLM是荷兰航空， NW是西北航空、 TACA是中美洲航空、 AA 是美国航空公司，
尽管出国经验频繁的我，对这些指示都不成问题，
然而，当我从台北飞洛杉矶，准备转往宏都拉斯采访时，
我和小咼吹着冷风，走在看不到尽头的长型建筑物，
心中不断提醒自己只有一个多小时的空档可转机，
却是怎么走，都找不到TACA(中美洲航空)的柜台，
那当下，脑中冷静的我和挫败的我，几乎要大打出手。
我一度怀疑自己会就此迷失在LA 机场，
更遑论这位完全不懂英文、遑论西班牙语的老阿嬷，
她一路从台北飞哥斯大黎加、再从哥斯大黎加飞回台北，
这整路会是怎样的艰熬？
看着眼前这位一度被我误认为" 很俗的大陆客" ，
不懂英文、不懂西班牙语，
为了女儿，勇敢地闯了这么多关，飞越半个地球，
我的眼泪差点夺眶而出 ...
故事，还没结束...
徐鶯瑞耐心地排队等着过海关，
因着记者的职业病，我拿起相机，拍下她的身影。
为了不让小咼发现我眼眶里打转的泪水，
我一边低头盯着数位相机，一边对小咼说，
" 她真的好勇敢哦，
海关看到那张纸条，一定会让她快速通关的。 "
没想到，我话还没讲完，
徐鶯瑞已经被带到遥远的另一端 ....
到底发生了什么事？
排在队伍后方的我和小咼焦急了起来，
却，无能为力。
只能远远看着老阿嬷的我，顺着队伍慢慢前进，
过了海关、到了行李提领区、等待领行李。
这时，一位年轻的机场工作人员看见我，朝我的方向快步跑了过来，
"Do you speak Engilsh？ " 满头大汗的他用急促的音调问我，
"Yes," 我的话还没说完，只见他的表情由慌张转为开怀，
同时，右手轻轻拉着我的手臂，左手指向海关区的另一个角落，
然后，用很快地速度引领着我。
我的心情，顿时，也轻快了起来，
因为我发现，他要带我去的方向，正是徐鶯瑞被"扣留" 的地方；
这位工作人员一定是因为徐莺瑞这位亚洲人完全不懂英文，
把他弄得七荤八素；
所以当他发现这偌大的机场里，有我这位唯一的东方女子，
而且还点头表示听得懂他讲的语言时，
那位机场工作人员如获救星般地兴奋。
而我，比他更兴奋，
因为终于可以去"解救"那位老婆婆了。
我终于知道，
原来，徐鶯瑞只是少填了一张蓝色的入境申报表。
好心的海关，按着徐鶯瑞的护照，帮她填好表格里的基本资料，
但是， "有没有带毒品，有没有带违禁品" ，海关是不可能帮忙代填的。
" 阿桑，莫要紧，甘呐几个问题，填一填就好了"
我安慰着因被"扣留"而略显慌张的徐鶯瑞，
一边快速阅览蓝色表格上的题目。
说真的，我从没好好仔细研究过这些题目，
凡是出过国的应该都有经验，
那些题目，就是连看都不必看，一路勾"NO"就是了。
问题是，机场工作人员站在我旁边，等着我帮忙翻译表格里的问题，
我只得乖乖的一题一题地问：
" 阿桑，妳甘有带水果？
"没 "她边回答边摇头。
我在表格"NO"的小框框里打勾，同时继续问着，
" 那妳有带肉来美国吗？"
"没。"
老阿嬷像是小学生回答老师问题般，戒慎恐惧。
问了两三题之后，我想到一个妙招，
反正身旁的机场工作人员听不懂中文，至于台语，更是莫仔羊，
所以我就告诉阿嬷，
"我现在问你什么，妳通通摇头就对了，
因为这(表格) 问的东西都是违禁品，
我帮妳填，妳只管摇头就行了。 "
" 好 " 徐鶯瑞点头，
我吓了一跳，深怕工作人员看见徐鶯瑞点头，误以为她带了表格上的违禁品。
总之，我们俩开始演戏。
我嘴里不停地假装问问题，其实说的全是要徐鶯瑞放心的话，
手中的笔顺着表格的题目，一项接一项地勾"NO"；
聪明的徐鶯瑞则是不断、不断地，用力摇头。
OK！终于填好了表格，
我帮徐鶯瑞整理她手中厚厚的一叠资料，
只留下护照、入境申报表、以及小抄，交到她手上，
我告诉她，别担心，这次绝对没有问题！
后来，徐鶯瑞再度过海关时，
不管海关问她什么问题，
她都非常用力、非常用力地摇头。
很好笑、
也很让人感动。
一张小抄‧一个勇敢的台湾阿嬷。
(文章來源， 作者的Blog http://www.wretch.cc/blog/clairehsiao/9736795)
*This article is taken from the blog of Taiwanese FTV journalist,Claire Hsiao, who came across 阿嬷徐鶯瑞 in LAX Airport and wrote down the touching story in her blog.
母爱就是如此伟大~
才知道这支广告是请来了全世界排名第一的坎城金奖泰国导演塔诺在（Thanonchai Sornsriwichai）拍摄的。
转贴：一张小抄·一个阿嬷的勇敢故事
因为采访，到过许多地方、遇见许多人、听到许多故事...
2006年12月14日，深夜11 点24 分，我和摄影小咼在美国洛杉矶国际机场，排队等通关。
从萨尔瓦多飞来这，很自然地，队伍几乎都是拉丁美洲人，除了我、摄影小咼， 还有那位排在队伍前头、背着一个贴有" 徐鶯瑞" 字样的欧巴桑。
她那张大大的A4 纸，实在很难不引起他人注意，
原因不只是白纸黑字太过醒目，
更是因为那张A4纸，是用细细的透明胶带，捆了几十圈，
狠狠地黏在她的黑色包包上。
很 " 俗"，可不是？
" 一定是大陆客 "，我心里这样想着。
那位"徐鶯瑞"不时回过头来，注意着我和小咼，而我和小咼两人嘴里聊的是宏都拉斯的采访心得，心里却同时注意到这位有点" 俗"的阿嬷。
队伍是以S 型的方式前进，在一个转弯处，" 徐鶯瑞" 和我们有了最近的距离，这时，她突然转过头来问我：「你会不会说国语？」我点了点头，她立刻把一张纸递到我手上，同时，指着营光笔画的一行字：『我要在洛杉矶出境，有朋友在外接我』
"徐鶯瑞" 问我，过海关是不是应该比这一行？
当我看到那张小抄的当下，我的眼泪差点飙了下来....
眼前的这位，原本我以为"很俗"的阿嬷，
其实是一位为了探视女儿，
带着小抄、换了四班飞机、闯了半个地球的"勇敢的台湾阿嬷"！
被揉得烂烂的小抄，每一行中文字都会用绿色营光笔标示出来，方便阿嬷阅读；
小抄第一行，用中文写着『我要到哥斯大黎加看女儿，请问是在这里转机吗？ 』
接下来的一行是英文翻译，第三行则是西班牙翻译。
第二题的中文是『我要去领行李，能不能带我去，谢谢！ 』
然后又是英文及西班牙语的翻译。
这张像是考前重点提示的纸，明显地告诉我，
这位夹在拉丁美洲人群中的阿嬷，
是带着这一张小抄，独自一人从台湾飞到哥斯大黎加！
台湾怎么飞哥斯大黎加？
首先，搭十二个小时的飞机，从台北飞美国，
然后再从美国飞五个多小时到中美洲的转运中心--萨尔瓦多，
接着，再从萨尔瓦多飞哥斯大黎加，
如果再加上这位阿嬷先从台南飞桃园机场，
那么，她一共换了四班飞机。
萨尔瓦多和哥斯大黎加讲的是西班牙语，
这也就是为何女儿给的小抄，还得附上西班牙语。
只是，很多时候，遇到的状况，小抄上找不到题目。
阿嬷指着另一边的队伍，告诉我，
『我刚刚排旁边的队伍，结果他们比这边，我才又赶快来这边排队，
我排这边对不对啊？ 』
我笑一笑，向她解释旁边是持美国护照，这边才是旅客的队伍，
递回小抄，我轻轻拍了一下她的臂膀，告诉她，
「没问题了，现在只剩下美国飞台北的回程班机，讲台语也会通呦」。
没有儿子的" 徐鶯瑞" 告诉我，
十年前，女儿跟着女婿移民到哥斯大黎加，
这十年来，女儿只回过台湾一次，是孙子一岁时，
现在，女儿生了第二胎，" 徐瑞莺" 特地飞到哥斯大黎加帮女儿坐月子，
一解思念女儿及孙子的情怀。
原本，女儿坐完月子要陪着妈妈到洛杉矶转机，
结果因为买不到机票而作罢。
至于那张写着大大" 徐鶯瑞" 的白纸，
是因为回台湾的华航班机是隔天下午，
而我们抵达LA的时间是晚上十一点多，
所以女儿特地请洛杉矶的朋友来接妈妈住一晚，
为了方便相认，徐瑞莺特地在包包上贴了斗大的A4 纸...
知道"徐鶯瑞"的旅程，有多么困难重重吗？
首先，从台北飞洛杉矶转机时，必须先步出入境航厦，到隔壁大楼，
而那栋大楼是一栋非常长的建筑物，
你必须沿着大楼走廊的告示牌：KLM、 NW 、 TACA、 AA，等等英文缩写前进。
KLM是荷兰航空， NW是西北航空、 TACA是中美洲航空、 AA 是美国航空公司，
尽管出国经验频繁的我，对这些指示都不成问题，
然而，当我从台北飞洛杉矶，准备转往宏都拉斯采访时，
我和小咼吹着冷风，走在看不到尽头的长型建筑物，
心中不断提醒自己只有一个多小时的空档可转机，
却是怎么走，都找不到TACA(中美洲航空)的柜台，
那当下，脑中冷静的我和挫败的我，几乎要大打出手。
我一度怀疑自己会就此迷失在LA 机场，
更遑论这位完全不懂英文、遑论西班牙语的老阿嬷，
她一路从台北飞哥斯大黎加、再从哥斯大黎加飞回台北，
这整路会是怎样的艰熬？
看着眼前这位一度被我误认为" 很俗的大陆客" ，
不懂英文、不懂西班牙语，
为了女儿，勇敢地闯了这么多关，飞越半个地球，
我的眼泪差点夺眶而出 ...
故事，还没结束...
徐鶯瑞耐心地排队等着过海关，
因着记者的职业病，我拿起相机，拍下她的身影。
为了不让小咼发现我眼眶里打转的泪水，
我一边低头盯着数位相机，一边对小咼说，
" 她真的好勇敢哦，
海关看到那张纸条，一定会让她快速通关的。 "
没想到，我话还没讲完，
徐鶯瑞已经被带到遥远的另一端 ....
到底发生了什么事？
排在队伍后方的我和小咼焦急了起来，
却，无能为力。
只能远远看着老阿嬷的我，顺着队伍慢慢前进，
过了海关、到了行李提领区、等待领行李。
这时，一位年轻的机场工作人员看见我，朝我的方向快步跑了过来，
"Do you speak Engilsh？ " 满头大汗的他用急促的音调问我，
"Yes," 我的话还没说完，只见他的表情由慌张转为开怀，
同时，右手轻轻拉着我的手臂，左手指向海关区的另一个角落，
然后，用很快地速度引领着我。
我的心情，顿时，也轻快了起来，
因为我发现，他要带我去的方向，正是徐鶯瑞被"扣留" 的地方；
这位工作人员一定是因为徐莺瑞这位亚洲人完全不懂英文，
把他弄得七荤八素；
所以当他发现这偌大的机场里，有我这位唯一的东方女子，
而且还点头表示听得懂他讲的语言时，
那位机场工作人员如获救星般地兴奋。
而我，比他更兴奋，
因为终于可以去"解救"那位老婆婆了。
我终于知道，
原来，徐鶯瑞只是少填了一张蓝色的入境申报表。
好心的海关，按着徐鶯瑞的护照，帮她填好表格里的基本资料，
但是， "有没有带毒品，有没有带违禁品" ，海关是不可能帮忙代填的。
" 阿桑，莫要紧，甘呐几个问题，填一填就好了"
我安慰着因被"扣留"而略显慌张的徐鶯瑞，
一边快速阅览蓝色表格上的题目。
说真的，我从没好好仔细研究过这些题目，
凡是出过国的应该都有经验，
那些题目，就是连看都不必看，一路勾"NO"就是了。
问题是，机场工作人员站在我旁边，等着我帮忙翻译表格里的问题，
我只得乖乖的一题一题地问：
" 阿桑，妳甘有带水果？
"没 "她边回答边摇头。
我在表格"NO"的小框框里打勾，同时继续问着，
" 那妳有带肉来美国吗？"
"没。"
老阿嬷像是小学生回答老师问题般，戒慎恐惧。
问了两三题之后，我想到一个妙招，
反正身旁的机场工作人员听不懂中文，至于台语，更是莫仔羊，
所以我就告诉阿嬷，
"我现在问你什么，妳通通摇头就对了，
因为这(表格) 问的东西都是违禁品，
我帮妳填，妳只管摇头就行了。 "
" 好 " 徐鶯瑞点头，
我吓了一跳，深怕工作人员看见徐鶯瑞点头，误以为她带了表格上的违禁品。
总之，我们俩开始演戏。
我嘴里不停地假装问问题，其实说的全是要徐鶯瑞放心的话，
手中的笔顺着表格的题目，一项接一项地勾"NO"；
聪明的徐鶯瑞则是不断、不断地，用力摇头。
OK！终于填好了表格，
我帮徐鶯瑞整理她手中厚厚的一叠资料，
只留下护照、入境申报表、以及小抄，交到她手上，
我告诉她，别担心，这次绝对没有问题！
后来，徐鶯瑞再度过海关时，
不管海关问她什么问题，
她都非常用力、非常用力地摇头。
很好笑、
也很让人感动。
一张小抄‧一个勇敢的台湾阿嬷。
(文章來源， 作者的Blog http://www.wretch.cc/blog/clairehsiao/9736795)
*This article is taken from the blog of Taiwanese FTV journalist,Claire Hsiao, who came across 阿嬷徐鶯瑞 in LAX Airport and wrote down the touching story in her blog.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
A Mom Shares Her Son's Coming Out
It started the day my son, Justin, had a hickey on his neck. Having a fairly close relationship with Justin, I asked him about it. First of all, like most 18-year-olds, he denied it was a hickey. I quickly grounded him in reality, stating that I most certainly knew what a hickey looked like. He was flustered but also pleased to be sporting this huge purple blotch on his neck.
"Who is she?" I asked. He had several friends who were girls, and I really couldn't imagine him wrestling romantically with any of them. They had always been strictly platonic. He wouldn't tell me who had delivered the hickey.
Being me, I started listing friends, and acquaintances, hoping to hit upon the right name.
"Joanne? Li Ann? Hui Fen? Alicia?" He denied them all with a foolish grin. As a joke, I brought up the name of a guy friend of his, who had just recently started showing up around our house. I hadn't met Alvin yet, but I knew my son had been out with him the night before.
"Alvin?" I teased.
"No," he said. But he smiled a smile that I didn't understand and left the room.
I thought about that for a while. As the days progressed, I started to notice some changes about Justin. He was dressing different, wearing newsboy caps, scarves, and sporting an "indie" beard. He was spending a lot of time with Alvin, to the exclusion of his other friends. I still had never met Alvin. One evening I was supposed to pick up my son from Bangsar, where he was hanging out with Alvin. I wanted to get petrol first, so I came into the parking lot through another entrance. As I pulled in to the dark lot, I thought I saw my son and another taller boy, definitely locked in embrace, up against a van in the shadows. When Justin became aware of my approaching car, he quickly pulled away from the boy and pretended like nothing had happened. He got in the car and the other boy slunk away, giving me a level, defiant stare over his shoulder.
"Alvin?" I asked Justin.
"Yup," he said, and changed the subject. I let it drop. I was too much in shock over what I had just seen. In fact, I started doubting immediately that I had even seen what I knew I had seen. The only thing that remained firmly lodged in my mind was Alvin's thunderous dark-eyed look, aimed directly at me.
In the next days that followed, I was haunted by that look. Alvin came over to the house, or met Justin in the car porch, but it never happened when I was around. They waited until I was at work, or somewhere else. Justin was becoming more and more flamboyant in the way he was talking, dressing and acting.
I left Justin a note on his computer one morning, that said, basically, that all I ever wanted for him, since he was born, was to be happy and to be free to be who he was. It was a little ambiguous, I know, but I thought that if Justin was gay, that the note would tell him that I would still accept him, and that my primary desire here was his happiness. He never said anything about the note.
The day that I was taking Justin's laundry out of the washing machine and a "gay pride" sock fell out and landed at my feet, I decided that Justin was really, really trying to tell me something. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to talk to him.
It's hard to pin down a 18-year-old, for a heart-to-heart talk. Justin wasn't the most receptive to mother-son talks anyway, always brushing off my concerns and barely listening, since he was a little boy. But I felt strongly that he needed to have a "safe sex" talk from me more than almost anything else. I had found out that Justin lied about Alvin being 18. He was 23 and working as a freelance model. I felt that Justin might be in over his head with someone more experienced than him. I knew this wasn't going to be easy.
Not knowing how to begin, I decided to just jump in. I couldn't make my mouth form the "g" word, though. It's not that I didn't want to say it, I just didn't know how it would be received by Justin. What if he wasn't gay? Would I hurt him worse by asking him if he was?
I asked, "Is Alvin more than a friend?" Justin wouldn't look at me and gave me one of his famous "non-answers."
"I don't know," he said.
I persisted. "Because if he is, then there are things we need to talk about."
Justin was panicking a little, "Just stop!" he begged.
"I'm not stopping. I need to tell you this stuff because I love you and don't want anything to happen to you."
"You need to stop!" he pleaded again.
"Why do you want me to stop?" I kept my voice calm.
He turned away and mumbled with a catch in his voice, "It's embarrassing." My heart broke for him. I understood what he meant. He wanted to be true to who he was, but he wasn't ready to take on the full load of being gay. He didn't want to be outed by his mother. But, in effect, he just had been outed by his mother.
I apologized for bringing it up, but I also told him that if he was gay, that there were things that I had a responsibility to address, his safety being my number one priority. He said that, yes, Alvin was more than a friend.
I told him that he couldn't tell me to stop talking anymore, that I was motivated by love, and that he was going to listen. What I told him was that I was completely okay with who he was. It didn't change anything. Justin would be Justin, until the end of time. I very lightly touched on safe sex without saying the "s" word, because saying it made him cringe visibly. And I left the conversation open, telling him that he could always come to me and that I would always be a soft place to fall. And then I backed off and stopped. I could feel that it was about as much as Justin and I could handle at that point.
The next days that followed were hard for me to deal with. Now that I knew for sure that Justin was gay, I was terrified. I couldn't imagine a harder life for him. I knew he would be up against discrimination for the rest of his life, and my heart ached with the thought of it. I was grieving for my boy. We had always had a close and warm relationship. He was a lot like me in a lot of ways. But now, he suddenly seemed older and unreachable to me. He had crossed over to a land that I knew nothing about. I was scared and distraught. And I was surprised that I felt like that. I always assumed I was so open, and accepting, and when it came down to it, I could not understand for the life of me, why I was having such a hard time with this.
It was awkward between us for several days. I was also in the process of divorcing his father during this time and had been looking at apartments. I found one with two small bedrooms, one of which had a big closet. Justin was discussing the possibility of sharing the room with his sister, when he said, "I could always live in the closet... no... wait.... I just got out of the closet... I don't want to go back in." It was just so funny that we both burst out laughing, and suddenly all the awkwardness was gone. We were all right again.
It's been about six weeks since I found out that Justin was gay. I see him for who he really is, for the first time, and I can tell you, he's amazing. He is strong, clear-eyed and focused. Being gay is an indelible part of who he is, but that is not the only defining thing about him. He continues to see Alvin. I've met Alvin and have tried hard to work through that first impression of his sullen glance. I try to see Alvin like Justin sees him, and I hope that Alvin sees me the way that Justin sees me.
I'm proud of my son. What he's lived through his whole life has not been easy. I'm glad that I know. I'm glad that he doesn't have to live in the shadows. He can be who he is. And he's happy.
(p/s: I hope to have a mom like Justin's. But, alas, it's just a silly thought, I think my hope would have to remain just that – a hope to cherish.)
"Who is she?" I asked. He had several friends who were girls, and I really couldn't imagine him wrestling romantically with any of them. They had always been strictly platonic. He wouldn't tell me who had delivered the hickey.
Being me, I started listing friends, and acquaintances, hoping to hit upon the right name.
"Joanne? Li Ann? Hui Fen? Alicia?" He denied them all with a foolish grin. As a joke, I brought up the name of a guy friend of his, who had just recently started showing up around our house. I hadn't met Alvin yet, but I knew my son had been out with him the night before.
"Alvin?" I teased.
"No," he said. But he smiled a smile that I didn't understand and left the room.
I thought about that for a while. As the days progressed, I started to notice some changes about Justin. He was dressing different, wearing newsboy caps, scarves, and sporting an "indie" beard. He was spending a lot of time with Alvin, to the exclusion of his other friends. I still had never met Alvin. One evening I was supposed to pick up my son from Bangsar, where he was hanging out with Alvin. I wanted to get petrol first, so I came into the parking lot through another entrance. As I pulled in to the dark lot, I thought I saw my son and another taller boy, definitely locked in embrace, up against a van in the shadows. When Justin became aware of my approaching car, he quickly pulled away from the boy and pretended like nothing had happened. He got in the car and the other boy slunk away, giving me a level, defiant stare over his shoulder.
"Alvin?" I asked Justin.
"Yup," he said, and changed the subject. I let it drop. I was too much in shock over what I had just seen. In fact, I started doubting immediately that I had even seen what I knew I had seen. The only thing that remained firmly lodged in my mind was Alvin's thunderous dark-eyed look, aimed directly at me.
In the next days that followed, I was haunted by that look. Alvin came over to the house, or met Justin in the car porch, but it never happened when I was around. They waited until I was at work, or somewhere else. Justin was becoming more and more flamboyant in the way he was talking, dressing and acting.
I left Justin a note on his computer one morning, that said, basically, that all I ever wanted for him, since he was born, was to be happy and to be free to be who he was. It was a little ambiguous, I know, but I thought that if Justin was gay, that the note would tell him that I would still accept him, and that my primary desire here was his happiness. He never said anything about the note.
The day that I was taking Justin's laundry out of the washing machine and a "gay pride" sock fell out and landed at my feet, I decided that Justin was really, really trying to tell me something. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to talk to him.
It's hard to pin down a 18-year-old, for a heart-to-heart talk. Justin wasn't the most receptive to mother-son talks anyway, always brushing off my concerns and barely listening, since he was a little boy. But I felt strongly that he needed to have a "safe sex" talk from me more than almost anything else. I had found out that Justin lied about Alvin being 18. He was 23 and working as a freelance model. I felt that Justin might be in over his head with someone more experienced than him. I knew this wasn't going to be easy.
Not knowing how to begin, I decided to just jump in. I couldn't make my mouth form the "g" word, though. It's not that I didn't want to say it, I just didn't know how it would be received by Justin. What if he wasn't gay? Would I hurt him worse by asking him if he was?
I asked, "Is Alvin more than a friend?" Justin wouldn't look at me and gave me one of his famous "non-answers."
"I don't know," he said.
I persisted. "Because if he is, then there are things we need to talk about."
Justin was panicking a little, "Just stop!" he begged.
"I'm not stopping. I need to tell you this stuff because I love you and don't want anything to happen to you."
"You need to stop!" he pleaded again.
"Why do you want me to stop?" I kept my voice calm.
He turned away and mumbled with a catch in his voice, "It's embarrassing." My heart broke for him. I understood what he meant. He wanted to be true to who he was, but he wasn't ready to take on the full load of being gay. He didn't want to be outed by his mother. But, in effect, he just had been outed by his mother.
I apologized for bringing it up, but I also told him that if he was gay, that there were things that I had a responsibility to address, his safety being my number one priority. He said that, yes, Alvin was more than a friend.
I told him that he couldn't tell me to stop talking anymore, that I was motivated by love, and that he was going to listen. What I told him was that I was completely okay with who he was. It didn't change anything. Justin would be Justin, until the end of time. I very lightly touched on safe sex without saying the "s" word, because saying it made him cringe visibly. And I left the conversation open, telling him that he could always come to me and that I would always be a soft place to fall. And then I backed off and stopped. I could feel that it was about as much as Justin and I could handle at that point.
The next days that followed were hard for me to deal with. Now that I knew for sure that Justin was gay, I was terrified. I couldn't imagine a harder life for him. I knew he would be up against discrimination for the rest of his life, and my heart ached with the thought of it. I was grieving for my boy. We had always had a close and warm relationship. He was a lot like me in a lot of ways. But now, he suddenly seemed older and unreachable to me. He had crossed over to a land that I knew nothing about. I was scared and distraught. And I was surprised that I felt like that. I always assumed I was so open, and accepting, and when it came down to it, I could not understand for the life of me, why I was having such a hard time with this.
It was awkward between us for several days. I was also in the process of divorcing his father during this time and had been looking at apartments. I found one with two small bedrooms, one of which had a big closet. Justin was discussing the possibility of sharing the room with his sister, when he said, "I could always live in the closet... no... wait.... I just got out of the closet... I don't want to go back in." It was just so funny that we both burst out laughing, and suddenly all the awkwardness was gone. We were all right again.
It's been about six weeks since I found out that Justin was gay. I see him for who he really is, for the first time, and I can tell you, he's amazing. He is strong, clear-eyed and focused. Being gay is an indelible part of who he is, but that is not the only defining thing about him. He continues to see Alvin. I've met Alvin and have tried hard to work through that first impression of his sullen glance. I try to see Alvin like Justin sees him, and I hope that Alvin sees me the way that Justin sees me.
I'm proud of my son. What he's lived through his whole life has not been easy. I'm glad that I know. I'm glad that he doesn't have to live in the shadows. He can be who he is. And he's happy.
(p/s: I hope to have a mom like Justin's. But, alas, it's just a silly thought, I think my hope would have to remain just that – a hope to cherish.)
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Little thought
"Each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved. Difference of object does not alter singleness of passion. It merely intensifies it. We can have but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible."
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Friday, January 15, 2010
Between Love, Hypocrisy and Friendship
Define love. How to define? You tell me. Believe it or not, there is no precise definition for this four letter word.
I thought too great of this word. Too naive. Perhaps I'm ignorant. But ignorant is not bliss!
I believe in everything too easily. Not that I'm an idiot, but I choose to 'believe'.
I had learnt my lesson. An invaluable lesson. It left behind a beautiful memory and an ugly scar.
I thought too great of this word. Too naive. Perhaps I'm ignorant. But ignorant is not bliss!
I believe in everything too easily. Not that I'm an idiot, but I choose to 'believe'.
I had learnt my lesson. An invaluable lesson. It left behind a beautiful memory and an ugly scar.
Between friendship and love, someone chose love. Between honesty and hypocrisy, the other one chose hypocrisy. Between friendship and hypocrisy, he chose hypocrisy.
I don't mind of being a specimen of love. At least, as sung by Beyonce, it was a beautiful nightmare.I already felt very contented that Prince Charming had once loved Silly Boy. I believe, at that point of time, it was genuine.
At the end of the day, what matters most is that we had shared some precious moment together in the past.
*p/s: you know i will never hate you no matter what happened. all that i want is just honesty and your courage to confront me. don't feel ashamed . there is no right or wrong in a relationship. ironically, i see hypocrisy in love and friendship. five years down the road, if i happen to read back this post, i will definitely laugh at my innocent thought while reminiscing about our sweet moments. i believe you would too! i am and i will be the same Evillian that you have known.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
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