Our son came out to us 9 years ago at age 19. It took 3 years before
I attended a P-FLAG meeting. My husband, on the other hand, called P-FLAG
two weeks after our son came out. He marched in the San Francisco Pride
Parade one month later, carrying one end of the 9 foot long purple and
white banner.
My husband began his struggle at P-FLAG to get closer to our son. P-FLAG became a bridge for him to try and know Stuart better. My son and I had fairly good communication. I stayed away because I had no such struggle. I also didn't march with the P-FLAG contingent in the Pride Parades because I hated crowds. My son said he understood and it was perfectly okay. I had no "problem" after all.
But one sunny June day, I got tired of being left out. I put aside my fear of crowds, hopped on Bay Area Rapid Transit with my husband and we joined the P-FLAG contingent for my first Gay/Lesbian Freedom Day Parade.
I'll never forget the look on my son's face as my husband and I walked down Castro Street with P-FLAG. He was standing on a balcony with friends. "Hi mom, hi dad," he shouted. His smile was brighter than the sun. He turned to his friends, shook them by the shoulders, pointed down to us and said, "THERE ARE MY PARENTS!" That was a moment for me that epitomized "family". Family meant support, acknowledgement and being there.
We walked down Castro and turned the corner onto Market Street. The applause, screams, tears when P-FLAG passed was thunderous. Gays and lesbians shouted "thank you." One person screamed, "It should be my mom and dad." People were sobbing; arms reached out. I knew then that I was marching for more than my son. I was marching for all the sons and daughters whose parents were not there for them. I felt my heart open to them all. It was at that moment that I knew I would also begin coming to P-FLAG meetings.
Everything around us is a call to love. When I hear a speech by the religious right or when I am tired and want to give up, I am reminded to love. When I tell the story of my son's coming out or of my own process, I hope I remind someone else to love. I remember my fear of crowds and my reluctance to dive in. I now know that marching with P-FLAG is one of the most spacious places for me to walk.
Laura Siegel, 1994
Laura1107@mindspring.com