The Next Big Step

I have wanted to be a dad since I was in my mid-twenties. It was something I pretty much kept to myself as that was time when gay men weren’t fathers. It was something I wanted and knew I would never have. Like living on the Starship Enterprise or traveling through time.

When I was married to Ulco, we talked about adopting someday and as happens, life gets in the way. I also liked being selfish. Not in a bad way, just I liked traveling on a whim, spending my money on what I wanted and not having to worry about someone else. No thoughts of braces or college, just the pure enjoyment of self indulgence. But always, I wondered what it would be like to be a dad. In Europe, the rules are such that you have to be no older than a certain age when you receive the first child and then there are other age restrictions after that. I am past that age and many years ago, resigned myself to the fact that I would never be a dad.

Coming back to the US and being around my niece and nephews rekindled that spark. I love taking them out and even though it is sometimes a convenient to drop them off at home sometimes, there is always a part of me that is sad to have it end. Even when they are on my nerves the most, they are still my favorite people in the world.

Before John and I ever got together, when we were great friends and nothing more, we had the occasional conversation about children. He wanted to be a father as well and also due to the way life works out, he never acted on that want. He never let go of the dream even though he realized it was not to be.

After we got into a relationship, John and I talked about it a few times. He is amazing with my niece and nephews and I sometimes wonder if they don’t love and enjoy him more than me. If they do, it’s perfectly okay with me. He’s an amazing guy and I love watching him with them.

In December, a woman came to my office. She came to participate in a small event we were having and even though I had never seen her before, I knew I had to talk to her. She worked with families that fostered and adopted children. A week later, John and I attended an information session to look into the possibility of adopting. Since then, we have been through two background checks, and Monday, we start the 30 hours of classes we have to complete before we begin the home study, after which we will be eligible to foster and adopt.

As we want to adopt, we will only be matched with children who are available for adoption. We want to adopt older children, between the ages of 8 and 12 and we are probably looking at siblings. Once a child reaches 8 years old, nobody really wants them. Everyone wants a baby, then they want an only child. We are looking at older siblings, open to whoever crosses our path that seems like a good fit. being older, not only can we choose them, but they get to choose us. And we know there’s a risk in that. It’s a vulnerability I’ve never felt before.

Since December, I can’t help but look at things in a different way. I know that there is someone out there who is going to change our lives in ways we can’t imagine or understand. There are children out there that have no idea that we are here, waiting for them. Waiting to open our home, our hearts and shake our lives up in every way possible. I sometimes wonder what they are doing. I wonder and hope that wherever they are right now, that they are with someone who loves them. I hope they are being treated well.

If all goes according to schedule, we should be licensed around early August. Given the ages of the children we would like to adopt, the chance of welcoming a child very soon after that is big. We know there will be hard times. We know there will be a lot to handle, but we will handle it. I can’t wait to see John be a dad or to be a dad myself. Every second the clock ticks is one closer to a new life, to a new family.

One second closer to being a dad.

Getting Shaved

Just over a week ago, I had my head shaved. I had done it many times before, but this time, things felt very different. I shaved my head for the St. Baldricks Foundation, to raise money for childhood cancer research. I heard about the organization and the event just a couple of weeks before it would all take place. I knew I didn’t have much time and I also knew that I had to be involved. I signed up to get my head shaved and actually had no idea if I would raise any money at all, so I set my fundraising goal at $1000. It didn’t seem like a lot, but suddenly, there was this number looming and the clock was ticking. I had never done something like that before, and while I know that every cent helps, I wanted to reach my goal. And finally, I not only reached it, but I went a little bit over. 

The event itself was not what I expected. I imagined I would arrive at McMullen’s Pub, have a drink with friends, get my head shaved and be done with it. I hadn’t anticipated the emotions that filled the place. It was crowded to overflowing. So many people there to have their heads shaved including children and women who were donating their longer hair to be used for wigs. There were tears and laughter and hugs and smiles. It was such a mix of emotion. I have friends and family that have dealt with cancer. Some have beat it, others have not, including my dad who passed away almost 13 years ago. And then, while I have never had cancer, going through two strokes taught me the importance of giving and accepting help from others, no matter the size. I would never had made it through had it not been for the kindness and support of others. Sometimes it was just a kind word, sometimes it was more involved, and it was all necessary. 

So I sat in my chair with the buzz of the clippers in my ear and the cold metal on scalp. I was sad and happy and excited and filled with so much emotion. It wasn’t about shaving my head, it wasn’t about any of us shaving our heads, it was about children whose names I will never know, families who will go through things I can’t even begin to wrap my head around and honestly hope I never have to. It was about the parents there that had lost children, about the people that had lost brothers and sisters. It was also about celebrating life, having a beer with friends and realizing that being there, just being able to be there, alive and healthy, was an incredible gift.

I left feeling elated and introspective and since then, I spend quite a bit of time thinking about the event and what it really meant. It has caused me to look at things a little differently and has started me on the path of change, something I have felt coming and now I have had just the tiniest push and the momentum has begun. More on that in time.

I have decided I want to do this every year and I want to do more than that to help. I am gong to reach out to see what I can do to help raise money and raise awareness. I never imagined that such a simple act as getting my hair shaved off would have such an impact. It has shown me that we really don’t need to do big, huge things to make a difference. A difference can be made with a flick of the clippers.

Thanks to everyone who donated and helped me reach not only reach, but pass my goal. It was an amazing feeling! If you are interested in joining me next year, or getting involved, let me know. 

My So-Called Lifestyle

There has been quite a bit of talk about the gay agenda and the gay lifestyle lately and so, always being one to jump on a bandwagon, I decided to chime in. As I have a lot of friends who do not live a gay lifestyle, I am going to take a few minutes to describe mine, so they too can live one if they so choose. Since a lifestyle is a choice, I think it only fair that my straight friends have all the education they need to live a gay lifestyle. Pay attention, because this is a day in my gay lifestyle life. You may want to take notes to make sure you get it just right.

On weekdays, I wake up around 6:30am, shower and get ready for work. I get in my car, sit in traffic and sometimes mix it up by stopping at a Starbucks for a coffee. It’s usually something pretty gay, like a Pike Roast, but sometimes I go all straight like some of my friends and opt for an upside down Caramel Macchiato. When I get to work, it’s usually a fabulous day of emails, meetings, research, planning, reports, phone calls and facilitating the odd training class. I work on marketing strategies, business plans and advise existing and aspiring small business owners. Because I like to live on the edge, my lunches vary from smoothies to burgers and on occasion, I enter into a more international lifestyle by having Thai food or sushi. After lunch, it’s more of the same at work until I get back in my car and sit in traffic all the way home. Once there, I have to spend time with each of the three dogs before getting really crazy with a book or an episode of Big Bang Theory. If feeling particularly ambitious, I serve as the fourth judge on Chopped, often while laundry is going. My evenings usually include dinner, doing some dishes and feeding the dogs, maybe cleaning the bathroom, going to the gym, practicing my Spanish lesson or even dropping in on my sister and her family. Crazy, I know. Around 11pm, I tuck into bed where I sleep until about 6:30am and I start it all over again.

My weekends might include paying some bills, cleaning around the house, making breakfast at home, grocery shopping, taking the dogs to the park, spending time with family and/or friends, going to the gym or maybe just being lazy. Sometimes I like to go hiking, camping, or maybe taking a drive or walk around town to shoot some pictures. If I’m feeling really frisky, then a short road trip might be in order. In fact, if you want to know something really scandalous, I am thinking of going to Bryce in a couple of weeks to shoot some pictures while there’s snow in the canyon. 

John’s gay lifestyle is far more exciting than mine. He gets to pick up the dog poop in the backyard on a regular basis. I sometimes feel jealous, as though I am on the outside looking in on a life I may never have.

So that, folks, is a secret look into a gay lifestyle.

Merriam-Webster dictionary defines lifestyle as “A particular way of living : the way a person lives or a group of people live." When I look at my “lifestyle”, I can say that my black friends live pretty much the same way. As do my straight friends. My single parent friends. My widowed step-mom. My sister. My Indian, Muslim, Hindu, Christian, Jewish, Mormon, Iraqi, Dutch and other friends.

Can we all please stop referring to the gay lifestyle? It doesn't exist. 

Freedom of Speech

“With great power comes great responsibility” – Voltaire

Like so many people, I have been watching the news, horrified at the events in Paris. I watched the news reports, read the articles and opinion pieces while wondering what kind of world we live in in which these types of things seem to happen with frightening regularity. After the initial shock wore off, I started thinking about it a little bit different and now, after pondering the events along with others, I’m not exactly sure what my opinion is. As I often do, I decided to write about it, let my fingers do the thinking and see what comes out of it.

Everyone seems to have jumped on the idea of freedom of speech and how an attack like the one in Paris is an attack on that freedom. But is it? I was born in a country where I am guaranteed freedom of speech by the Constitution, a right I love and cherish. I also think that with a lot of things, we rarely take a step back and really reflect on what those words “freedom of speech” actually mean. I can say without a doubt that true freedom of speech does not exist and probably never has. In America, we certainly don’t have complete freedom of speech. Every day, some actor, business person or politician is apologizing for some remark they made, a word they used that offended someone. Paula Deen was asked if she ever – the key word being “ever” - used the N-word. She said she had, a long time ago. It almost cost her her career. Isaah Washington lost his job on Greys Anatomy due to something he said to a co-star. I know full well that if I were to stand out on the street and start firing off certain words, slurs or ideas, I would be met with anger that would most likely range from shouts to violence to police intervention. I could be arrested. I could be sued. I might even be killed. If my one of my nephews or my niece is at school and says the wrong thing to someone, they can be expelled for bullying. Clearly, freedom of speech has limits. As it should.

And if any of those consequences happen, people will agree that the consequences were deserved, that I or the other person should have known better. So, while it is not at all acceptable for me to refer to black people with the N-word or use other racially charged words at others, it seems it is perfectly acceptable to take something a large part of the world holds sacred and holy and treat it with not only a lack of respect, but in a way that is known – KNOWN – to be unacceptable and offensive. When we Americans see someone burning the American flag, we get outraged. We want retaliation. When someone hurts our feelings or does something we don’t like, we act out. Remember the smashing of French wines and the short-lived freedom fries? We were angry that someone dared defy us, have a difference of opinion. French people in America were attacked. French businesses are vandalized.

So why is it that if I make a slur towards someone, I deserve what consequences come my way, but if I offend a billion or so people by making fun of and even degrading something held sacred by them, they are being unreasonable and should just see it for what it is? They should laugh it off and stop acting like angry children.

I believe that just because we have a freedom to do something, doesn’t mean we should. I believe we need to put that freedom to better use. We need to be responsible and accountable for the consequences our speech brings. Does anyone really believe that the dialogues we are having are constructive? Will they bring us closer together? Will they help us understand and respect our differences? I don’t think so. It is so easy to offend and anger. It is much more difficult to talk, listen and learn. We can have freedom of speech and still be responsible. We can have that freedom and be respectful. We can use that freedom to build or to destroy and from what I see, we seem determined to do the latter.

Freedom of speech is a powerful thing and with great power comes great responsibility.  It’s time we think about what we say and do, think for moment about where it will get us, whether it will move us forward or not. We have to move away from the attitude that my opinion is the right one and everyone else is wrong. We do that in politics. We do that in religion. We do that when it comes to race. We do that in almost every type of conversation. I would even say they aren’t conversations, but monologues aimed at getting the other person to realize they are wrong, getting the other person to change and getting a victory for ourselves. I know it’s wishful thinking that we could become a society that is respectful towards the opinions and beliefs of others. But it is something I would like to see happen. I believe open conversations with the goal of learning and understanding are the only way any of this is going to change.

As Gandhi said, we need to be the change we wish to see in world. We can’t change others, only ourselves. But I have learned that by changing myself, I can have an impact on others.

 Just to be clear, I do not like or condone violence of any type and this is in no way meant to offer any justification to anyone who hurts other people regardless of the reason or provocation.