WHO CAN I TELL?
A poem by a South Australian Mother.
Who can I tell that my child is Gay?
Oh, My God what will they say?
Telling my friends about my son,
I knew I just could not tell just anyone.
I had to pick the time and the place,
And openly tell them face to face.
My heart would be scared and skip a beat inside,
As I tried to explain, yet wanting to hide.
Who can I tell? Who will accept me as I am?
Boy it must be hell on my young man.
To keep a secret deep in ones soul,
For society says being Gay is not whole.
Who can I tell? Who can I tell?
For young Gay people it must be hell
As who can I tell my story to,
Who can I tell? Will it be you?
Will you still accept myself and my son?
Or do you want to just leave and run?
Run from the truth of another human being,
Like it is never to be heard or never to be seen.
Well I will tell you now and it is up to you,
To my son and myself I have to be true.
If you do not accept myself and my son,
Our friendship is over, over and done.
Because my son did not choose to be this way,
Nature’s genes are what makes human beings Gay.
So believe it or not it is up to you,
My son comes first and to him I am true.
True to him as any Mother can be,
My son is GAY, HAPPY, REAL and FREE.
by Pamela D.V.W. 1994.
My young son came to me one day,
He looked at me and said nervously, Mum I am Gay.
I looked at him, hugged him and smiled,
I always knew he was a special child.
My only child and he is Gay,
What do you think I would say?
Well it was hard to assimilate at first,
For mothers have great dreams for their children at birth.
To grow up be happy, and marry some day,
So as I could have grand kids to take out to play.
So my dreams as a mother were not to be,
I was just so glad my son was at last free.
Free to be with his own kind,
So as his mother I do not really mind.
To know my son is true to himself,
Not trying to be somebody else.
To teach other people is now my mission in life,
TO UNDERSTAND HOMOSEXUALITY AND THAT IT DOES NOT MEAN STRIFE.
My son being Gay has brought me so much joy now that he is free,
He will always be the most courageous and precious son to me.
Pamela D.V.W. 1995
You’re child’s needs are different than most
So hard to understand why?
Why us?? Why them?? You are thinking
And all you can do is cry.
Yes…both children and parents do suffer
Your child many years before now –
I know that you’re worried, just so much
Saying – what can I do and how.
Please!! – don’t disown your children
Or turn them away from your heart
Even though all that you’re feeling now
Is just tearing you apart.
Believe me when I say to you
That you’re going to be okay –
That your relationship with your child
Can improve as from this day.
Just be willing to read and learn
And then you’ll begin to grow
And the love you have for your child
Will grow stronger now that you know.
My life has taken on greater dimensions
Than I ever imagined it would –
And my love for my daughter has grown with it
More than I ever realised it could.
This poem was written by a South Australian mother whose life has been enriched through the experience of having a lesbian daughter.
My teenage years are meant to be filled
with growth, fun, love and learning
But society tells me that I'm not worthy
and please! This is what I am yearning.
I'm young, I'm bright and Yes! I'm polite
I'm sociable and respectful, -- but Hey!
You tell me that I'm just not good enough
and why?? - all because I'm Gay.
When will you all come to understand
That like you, I had no say in the matter.
My sexuality - was not a decision by me -
Choice, recruitment - none of the latter.
I knew as a young child I was different
Of course, then I didn't understand why?
But now I'm a teenager I know what it is
And knowing this - I just wanted to cry.
Because, everywhere I turn, I'm filled with hurt
and despair at what I read and hear
People say that I'm bad, perverted and strange
and call me faggot, lezzo, poofter and queer.
Please, I implore you to stop this bigotry,
The homophobia and the hate, - the fear of attack
directed at everyone like me, who's gay
You know, all this, just sets me right back.
Further into the closet' that confines me
to a life of confusion, secrecy and doubts
of my own self worth, and right to be here,
Pondering - just what's my life all about?
Mum and Dad taught me that life was for living
Caring and sharing, loving our fellowman.
I want a chance to live my life, just like you have
Given that chance - I jo1ly well can.
And why should I not have this God given right
To contribute, be loved and be cared for
My sexuality was not chosen, it just "was" and "is"
Part of "me" -- and that's for sure.
Rich or poor, black or white, gay or straight - different
Not unworthy, just different from the rest that you see.
So here I am, I'm gay and I'm as good as you are,
I want love, respect and caring and oh yes! Embrace me.
Who is this young person? Your neighbour, your friend, your niece, your nephew, your grandchild...your child?!