Montreal Gazette

FAMILY LETTERS FROM THE ’ 70S

‘ Mom, Dad, I’m afraid this is going to cause you both a lot of pain’

- Thomas Waugh holds the Concordia University research chair in sexual representa­tion and in documentar­y film, and is the director of the Concordia HIV/ AIDS Project.

I am now older than my parents were when I came out to them in an intense four- page typewritte­n letter almost 40 years ago. The ’ 70s were the “coming out” decade ( also a decade when people still wrote each other letters), and all my gay friends and I performed our political ritual of affirming our sexual identities to families, friends and co- workers.

January 1977 seemed the right moment. Not only was I no longer financiall­y dependent thanks to my new tenure- track position at Concordia, but I had also just published my first “out and proud” film review in the Toronto radical gay lib journal The Body Politic. I wanted my mother and father to hear it from me, my way, rather than who- knows- what secondhand gossip that might waft over to Hope and Ralph’s quiet residentia­l neighbourh­ood in Hamilton, Ont. Moreover, I had spilled the beans in person to my three siblings the previous year with less- than- spectacula­r results ( responses ranging from awkward support to tense silence to emotional blackmail). I needed to maintain the momentum before I became a 30- year- old closet case the following year.

I had just spent a very conflicted Christmas with my family, chafing, of course, about not being able to share what was important in my life, but especially about still being coerced at my ripe old age of 29 to go to church with them, especially by my controllin­g highschool- teacher mother. My father was a United Church minister, one of the generation of 1960s liberal progressiv­es, who I was and am to this day very proud of. I couldn’t bear maintainin­g the facade any longer. So I killed two birds with one stone, coming out as agnostic and gay in the same letter.

The following excerpts from my letter and my father’s response encapsulat­e the drama of that January better than my sketchy memories can: Dear Mom and Dad, I’m afraid this letter is going to cause you both a lot of pain and I apologize f or making it a letter rather than facing you personally with it. … Okay here goes. It all pertains to some of those not- so- subtle hints, Mom, which I’m really used to and even love you for, but which I don’t think I can deal with anymore because they’re part of the huge misunderst­anding between us — I mean questions hinting at my relationsh­ip with ( my New York grad school lesbian roommate) June, or suggestion­s about joining a church group to meet a nice girl, etc., comments about the wife I will settle down with and the family I will have in order to inherit Cousin Earl’s silver. ... The fact is, as ( my siblings) Rachel, Mark and Joanna have all known for some time now, and as all my friends and most colleagues know, that I am a homosexual. There you have it. I do not apologize for this — I only apologize that I have not had the courage or maturity to tell you for the last 15 or so years that I have been certain of this …

Another response that I predict you will have is an anxiety over the possible consequenc­es, profession­al and social, that you might expect me to have to face. … But I would not for a second consider substituti­ng a life of secrecy, fear and repression, for a life of profession­al security. … I do not go about flaunting my gayness — I also do not hide it and creep around in shame. And now I don’t have to do that at home, finally. Home was the last place where I had to keep up the sham and the brilliant job of acting that I have been perfecting ever since Grade 9, all through high school and college. … It’s now enormously liberating to tell you, Mom and Dad. ...

The worst possible thing you could do would be to blame yourselves, or God forbid, blame each other. I know you will not. I refuse to accept the relevance of blame at all. Homosexual­ity is a relatively constant personalit­y pattern represente­d in virtually all human societies. … determined in childhood long before puberty, and there are varying opinions on the relative importance of nature and nurture in the developmen­t of this pattern. But that is beside the point. I am what I am, I accept what I am, and I hope that my family will accept what I am, too, not a fantasy of what they would like me to be. I know that will be difficult for you at first.

It would have been much easier for me not to tell you — I hope you realize this. It’s relatively easy to keep up the front ... . I’m telling you this because I love you and value your love, am grateful for the way you have brought me up, and want you to know this essential thing about me, so that our relationsh­ip can be based on honesty instead of deceit. …

I sent this to Dad first, Mom, so that he could choose a good time for you to read it. Please remember what I said about telling you this because I love you and because I know it will not change your love for me. Sincerely, Tom

Dear Tom, I realize that my failure to reply to your letter earlier has been a cause of a bit of distress to you, and I am sorry … it has taken me some time to collect my thoughts. Actually I am not ready even yet to write to you in full. This is just a reply for the time being, until I can find leisure and some maturity of thought to do so.

One thing for sure, it is a missing piece of the puzzle that we have been trying to put together for some time. Now that we know and as we look back over the years, we can see many things that were not at all obvious to us then.

As for your homosexual­ity, I do not know what to say. We do not know very much about it, so as to be able to speak with any authority, although I have read quite a bit about it. We have read your letter carefully as to your understand­ing of your homosexual­ity and homosexual­ity in general.

We are reserving judgment as to its origins in your experience and in human experience generally until we can do some reading on the subject and until we can talk to you. From what we have read of your comments in your letter, we wonder just how correct your own assessment of the origins of it in your experience is.

I don’t think we are ready to accept everything you say. People can make themselves believe a lot of things; and can read back into the record unconsciou­sly a justificat­ion of what has happened. I am not saying you have done this. But there are question marks in our mind. ...

Our feelings have fluctuated between despair, blame, and anger; but our feelings for you as our son have not changed. We love you very much, and have always done so; and we intend to stand by you. You should know, however, that we are not prepared to accept homosexual­ity as the final word in your case. Without labelling it, without being judgmental or moralistic, without coming to any final conclusion­s in our own mind about its origins, we cannot see ourselves, or you either, accepting it, even though you say that you accept it as a normal deviation and feel perfectly good about it. We don’t believe you do feel completely good about it. However, we would like to talk to you about it some time. Not right away, though.

It is going to be hard for both you and us when we see each other for the first time since this has come to light. But we want you to feel wel- come, naturally, and we will do all we can to make you feel so, and to assure you of our unending love and commitment to you as our son and as a person.

It is a good thing that you have told us. It clears the air, and as far as I am concerned opens up possibilit­ies of dialogue and growth in understand­ing and love that were not there before because we were not completely open to each other. No progress can be made when an encounter is not on a real basis. ... Sometimes when I think of your agonizing and growing into a realizatio­n of this and trying to understand it, I just groan inside, and can hardly stand it. But we believe in God and in God’s providence — that He is working in our lives and in yours — and we believe that He is a God of the impossible …

This is all I can write for now. Thanks for letting us know. We will have more to say later. In the meantime we will now feel free to phone and we want you to feel the same. Love as always, Mom and Dad

It was only in the 1980s, after my father’s death, that the United Church voted to ordain lesbian and gay ministers. I was proud of them and of the way my widowed mother, as ever a fierce protector of her brood, stood up to her congregati­on when it chose to move homophobic­ally against the current. She walked out the door and never looked back … but that is another story.

 ?? JOHN KENNEY/ MONTREAL GAZETTE ?? Concordia professor Thomas Waugh, today and in a 1977 photo.
JOHN KENNEY/ MONTREAL GAZETTE Concordia professor Thomas Waugh, today and in a 1977 photo.

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