Some of My Best Friends…
Gentlemen’s Agreement, a blockbuster
novel published in 1947 was an expose of anti-Semitism in the upper crust
of society. It was translated into thirteen languages, was an instant
literary success, and perhaps was the most important work of Laura
Hobson’s distinguished career.
In the promotion of her book Ms. Hobson, an
agnostic by faith but Jewish by origin, was the guest speaker at a
prestigious Westchester County Country Club which, at the time, was
totally WASP. In the pre-address chit-chat discussion of the book and its
explosive topic, the impeccably coiffed matron who sat beside Ms. Hobson
and who was the luncheon chairwoman leaned toward her conspiratorially and
said, “You know some of my best friends are Jews.” Ms. Hobson’s
reply was, “Yes, some of mine too—my mother and my father.”
I’ve always loved that line and I’ve
often wanted to use it—but with an appropriate adaptation. “You know
some of my best friends are STRAIGHT—my mother and my father.”
The fact that straights have trouble
accepting and/or identifying with gays is no surprise to those of us who
are gay or lesbian. And it’s no surprise to Rehoboth residents who were
around when CAMP Rehoboth was founded nearly two decades ago. But I have a
theory.
I was reminded of my theory a week ago when
I left a meeting of the Fort Lauderdale Writers’ Group, an amorphous
collection of men and women who meet regularly to critique each other’s
literary attempts. There were six or seven men in the group and an equal
number of women but after the session—no one spoke with me. Over the six
months that I’ve been attending the group, four or five of the women
have spoken with me on occasion, but only one of the men.
I’ve switched deodorants several times
and I no longer wear my tight black leather shorts with a matching
harness. Now my pink boa remains at home and I wear jeans and work boots
to impress my associates with my masculine bona-fides. Seriously, I look
like any of the other guys in the group—gray, balding, and a bit
paunchy—but they all know I’m gay. I told them so. At the first
meeting I attended when I introduced myself to the group I mentioned that
I write a column, Gay ‘n Gray, for Letters From CAMP Rehoboth and
briefly described CAMP Rehoboth and its mission.
My experience with the writers’ group
isn’t, however, really new. I’ve long been aware that when I’m a
token homosexual in mixed straight groups, women will relate to me better
than men. In part that’s because I’m more conversant on music,
theater, gardening, and decorating than I am on MLB, NFL and NASCAR. But I
think there’s a deeper reason—which leads to my theory. Regrettably, I
have no solid data to back my hypothesis. I only have my experience and
the experience of other gay men I’ve spoken with.
Straight women relate well to gay men
because they’re not threatened. They know that a gay man isn’t trying
to get into their pants. Straight men relate poorly to gay men because
they are threatened. Perhaps the threat is less a fear of sexual advances
and more a residual memory of the blow job they furtively gave or received
in the high-school locker room or a fragment of feeling from an unresolved
crush on a scout leader or coach. Furthermore, straight guys are fearful
that association with a gay man, even socially, might subject them to
guilt by association. Perhaps the disease is catching. Someone might think
that they are gay. Or, like Senator Larry Craig they’ll have to publicly
acknowledge, “I’m not gay—I’m not!”
Having said all that, I can still say that
some of my best friends are straight men. But in my experience, the only
straight men who relate easily to gay men are guys who are totally
comfortable in their heterosexuality. I’m no threat to them any more
than I am to their wives or girlfriends. But there aren’t too many males
of that subspecies—heterosexual homosapiens comfortabulus—around. Many
straight guys carry an unresolved tinge of lavender from an earlier time
and when they meet a gay man who is comfortable in his own
skin—they’re threatened.
Now back to Laura Hobson. She was a
feminist before feminism was a gleam in Bella Abzug’s eye. Hobson
refused alimony in the early thirties when she divorced after five years
of marriage. She found alimony demeaning of her ability to care for
herself. She adopted a son and then, after an unexpected out-of-wedlock
pregnancy, she delivered a son under a false identity. Later, she adopted
her biological son. She didn’t want her adopted first son to feel less
important than her biological child so she became the adoptive mother of
her biological child in order to keep a level playing field.
One of her sons eventually came out as gay
and Hobson had to personally face her own homophobia just as her
protagonist in Gentlemen’s Agreement had to face anti-Semitism. She
incorporated that experience into her 1975 novel Consenting Adults.
Yes, some of my best friends are straight.
I wish Laura Hobson were among them.
John Siegfried lives in Ft. Lauderdale but
maintains close ties to Rehoboth Beach. Email jdsiegfried@comcast.net.
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