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Home of the brave characters
Home of the brave characters




home of the brave characters home of the brave characters

Democracy was telling my father, nine years later, that I’d been seeing someone named Fred, that it was serious, and that I was in love. I’ve known since you were eighteen.” When I asked him how he’d known, he said, “You’re not a communist.”Ħ. And coming out to my father when I was twenty-five and having him reply, without the slightest change in his expression, “I know that.

home of the brave characters

Democracy was coming out to my recently-divorced mother when I was twenty-three and having her cry and say she was worried I’d get AIDS. “You’re just going to have to deal with this yourselves,” the voice said.ĥ. The banging and shouting were so loud that he couldn’t hear the response on the other end of the line. My boyfriend called the campus police and explained what was going on. Democracy was cowering with my college boyfriend in his dorm room while some of the other young men who lived on his floor tried to kick the door in, yelling that they would kill us both if they got the chance. My mother defended me, said the choice was mine to make.Ĥ. Only communists and homosexuals were conscientious objectors, he said.

home of the brave characters

I told my parents my intention, and my father became irate. Democracy was discovering, upon turning eighteen, that when I did my compulsory registration for the selective service, I could also register as a conscientious objector. “You know,” he said, “they didn’t used to have characters like that on TV.” My father laughed along with us, but he wasn’t amused when I started mincing around the living room the way the gay characters had. Democracy was watching Barney Miller with my family and laughing at the gay characters and at the way the straight cops reacted to them. She assumed, as I did, that one day I would marry a woman.Ģ. I wanted to ask her if she wished she’d lived with my father for a year before marrying him, but I didn’t. Compatibility, she said, was crucial to a good marriage. Democracy was being told by my mother that I shouldn’t marry anyone without first living with that person for a year. The Commuter Subscribe Strange, short, and diverting writing delivered to your inbox every Monday.Ĭoming Out in the Home of the Brave Democracy Wasġ.






Home of the brave characters