The performing arts publisher

8. The Sum of Them: SMH article

This article is reproduced by kind permission of the Sydney Morning Herald, Catherine Armitage and Julie Delvecchio. It was first published in the Sydney Morning Herald, 5 August 1994.

The film The Sum of Us, about a man and his gay son, highlights relationships between gay children and their parents. Coming out to their families is one of the most powerful things a gay person can do, says Richard Cobden, a Sydney barrister and a former president of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. Most find it liberating, and it can be a political statement.

But coming out can also destroy families or, at least, open wounds that may take years to heal. Tales abound of sons and daughters rejected and disowned. Heather Horntvegt, who runs a counselling and support group for parents and friends of lesbians and gays, says: 'It can be quite devastating to think that all your plans for their future, getting married, having grandchildren are going to change and you selfishly think they have no right to do it.'

Another common reaction is: 'What will other people say?'. The group tries to educate parents to understand that their children in fact didn't have a choice about their homosexuality and help them to learn to love their children unconditionally.

Mr Aldo Spina is a worker with the Fun and Esteem Project of the AIDS Council of New South Wales which runs a support and discussion group to help young gay men come to grips with their sexuality. He offers these guidelines.

  • Gay people should have accepted their sexuality themselves before asking families and friends to.
  • Ideally, a person should have a support network in the gay community, through groups such as Coming Out or Fun and Esteem, on which they can rely should the traditional supports of family and friends disappear.
  • A family's reaction is always unpredictable. Often parents who seemed to be liberal-minded find their mettle tested when they are confronted with homosexuality in their son or daughter.
  • Acceptance almost never happens overnight. 'Mum/Dad, I'm gay' is usually just the beginning of a dialogue; which may take months or years though in some families, once discussed, it is never mentioned again.

And Mr Ken Wyse, a facilitator with the Gay and Lesbian Counselling Services' Coming Out, says: 'If you are not prepared for the worst, don't do it'.

Parents on their gay children

Four years ago, Sue Frankham, 47, found out that her son was gay. Nic, then 15, told her that he would be spending the weekend at a girlfriend's place. But, shortly after Nic left for the weekend, Sue found out that he had been staying with an older male friend. To intensify matters, Nic arrived home with a purple love bite on his neck. Jokingly, Sue asked whether his male friend had given him the bite. Much to her surprise, Nic said yes.

'He just came out and said, "I can't believe I've told you". It was a real surprise. I thought he was too young to make (such) a decision and I was concerned because I think it's a harder life. I don't think I was a parent who said "That's wonderful, I'm happy".' But she did not try to persuade him to go straight.

About three years after Nic came out, he telephoned Sue to tell her that Lucie, his older sister, was going to call her to talk something over.

'I think I had a fair idea,' says Sue. 'Nic rang me up and said to me "Lucie's got something she's got to tell you and she's a bit nervous"."

About a week later, Lucie called her mother to tell her that, like Nic, she too had feelings for her own sex. While Sue said that she had received no negative reactions from family and friends, she was concerned that people would think that she was a 'bad mum'.

'I guess I wondered what I'd done wrong... but now I wouldn't have it any other way. They're wonderful kids - if they were different, they wouldn't be them.'

Peter O'Shea's son and namesake, then 23, rang him from Sydney six years ago and said: 'Dad, there is something I have to tell you. I'm ... I'm ... I'm...' But the words would not come. His father suggested his son call back when he had figured out his problem. But he was not prepared for the news that his son was gay.

'I am not sure it was shock, it was something worse than that... I was probably fairly devastated actually,' says Mr O'Shea, a welfare officer in Toowoomba. 'I didn't understand it. I simply don't understand it.'

A practising Catholic, Mr O'Shea was brought up to believe that homosexuality was sinful. But the God he believed in was not bigoted, not like those people who 'judge everyone and obviously are perfect themselves.' And he realised that Peter would not need his condemnation but his understanding and support. 'He would have enough people that would be turning against him.' Acceptance took some time, but now the two have a 'quite marvellous' relationship. 'I would regard him as a good friend of mine.'

Shirley, a mother of five in her 60s from Sydney's southern suburbs, learned of her son James' sexuality four years ago when he was 20 after finding some pictures him with gay friends at a party. She and her husband were devastated.

Shirley says: 'Naturally our reaction was what have we done? Where did we go wrong? Is it our fault?' Aside from dealing with the specifics of their one-to-one relationships, many parents fear the same kind of ostracism and stigma which their children face.

Peter O'Shea, for example, discovered that 'some of the (people) I may have considered as friends were obviously not friends in the first place.'

Shirley and her husband felt better after they sought counselling and 'had it explained to us as a genetic thing'. Now she feels that her relationship with James has improved but she is not sure how she will cope if and when he gets into a permanent relationship.

Gay children on their parents

Lucie Frankham, who came out to her parents at the age of 19, says that since she has been out, she has been able to express herself more with her family.

'To be able to be honest about something that is just so integral to my existence means that I can be honest about so much more,' she says.

Her brother, Nic, a 20-year-old research officer, had already told his parents he was gay. 'The whole nature of our relationship changed. I could start talking to (my mother) as a friend. Before that I had this other portion of my life that was really important to me'.

Peter O'Shea, 29, a journalist for the gay newspaper Capital Q, thought his mother would cope better than his father with the news that he was gay. It was the homoerotic photograph on the wall of the home he shared with another gay man which gave it away.

Why wasn't the picture of a woman, his mother wanted to know? And then, why did he always have gay flatmates? She was crying and upset, then she said she loved me and I said I loved her...'

Soon afterwards Peter rang his father to break the news. 'My father used to be a footballer in the VFL, I thought he would not be cool about it.' He thought his mother, a nurse, would be more likely to take it in her stride. But the reverse happened. He now has a close and open relationship with his father and, while he loves his mother 'to death, it is just that she doesn't like to talk about that issue'.

Anthony, 19, has a very different experience. The effects of telling his family he was gay were catastrophic. For eight years he agonised over his sexuality, knew he was gay but unable to tell anyone about it. His parents are Greek Cypriot and 'you never spoke about things like that'.

When he was 10 he asked his father what AIDS was; his father replied it was 'poofter disease, and don't ever mention it to me again.' From then on, Anthony (not his real name), who had his first homosexual experience at the age of 10, developed all manner of mysterious ailments, and was shunted from doctor to doctor in search of a cause and a cure. Then in the middle of his HSC last year, his mother demanded, for the millionth time: 'What is wrong with you?' This time she got her answer. 'Don't you understand, I'm gay.' With three HSC exams to go, he was immediately kicked out of home. His mother told him: 'God created AIDS to get rid of people like you ... your sister will never get married ... we will have to change the will.' And they did.

Now he has a new life in Sydney, a good job, a new supportive group of friends, a steady relationship but no family. 'Everything from birth to the age of 18 I have lost ... my life as I know it has only been going for two years.'

Simon Cohen, 28, came out to his parents two years ago 'with great trepidation.' When his younger brother came out two years before, his father had 'virtually said (his brother) could not come to the house and he did not regard him as part of the family any more'.

Simon, a lawyer, was planning to move in with his boyfriend and wanted to share this decision with his parents. He wrote them a letter to explain. Initially, his mother was preoccupied with the fear that her sons would get AIDS and learned as much as she could about the disease in preparation for having to nurse them. But this preoccupation has passed and she is now accepting of her sons' sexuality, says Simon.

Things have been more difficult with his father. 'I continually feel him judging my lifestyle. At the same time he has made a bigger effort this time because of the awful outcome last time.'