I talked to Jeremy’s teacher on Tuesday and asked her how the LGBT discussion went last week. She rather awkwardly informed me that it was more of an introduction than an actual discussion then she perked up and told me she’d been in touch with a wonderful doctor (whose name she could not remember). He’s coming on on some unspecified day for an open discussion on tolerance, acceptance and why being gay isn’t wrong.
She sat there quite proud of herself while I probably looked like I’d been smacked in the face with a dead fish. An open discussion… I mentioned this to my young coworker.
“Yeah, like that’ll be a good discussion,” he said dryly. “It’s always the idiots who talk the loudest.”
I double checked with Jeremy, just in case I’d misheard her but he agreed with me. Open discussion on whether being gay is wrong.
“How do you feel about this?” I asked hesitantly.
He shrugged. “It’s okay. If they want to say being gay’s wrong then I’ll just disagree with them.”
I have no idea when this discussion is occurring. I can’t help but hope his teacher either forgets about it or at the very least it goes a lot more positively than I think.
He went to his LGBTQ+ youth group that evening and came home cheerful but quiet.
“What did you do tonight?” I asked.
“We talked,” he replied.
Yeah, not exactly informative. But he was cheerful and agreed he had a good time. Then came my question.
“Hon, you don’t have to tell me what your sexual orientation is. I’m not fishing about that. I’m just wondering… are you out in your group?”
He looked at me in surprise. “Mom, I’m not out anywhere.”
Apparently he’s consistent. “No one’s asked you there, right?”
He smiled and shook his head, his aqua hair bouncing against his cheeks. “Nope.”
To be fair, I figured that would be the case.