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.'