Movie Madness--General Thoughts Part 1

Anyone who knows me, knows I am a huge movie buff.  From loving various genres to being a trivia hound to being an Academy Award buff, I not only love movies, I know movies.  I tend to be pretty serious when I write, but there are generally two subjects that I am passionate about writing that has nothing to do with changing the world or screaming for equality.  These passions are entertainment (reading, writing, movies, TV, travel) and sports (notably college and pro football). 

But this entry is about movies.  And since I will discuss movies periodically, I will call this "Part 1."  When I discuss some of my favorites though I think it's important to know two things, about me, when it comes to movies:

• I generally don't care for many movies pre-1930s so I won't talk much about the silents
• While some of my faves are from 1930-1959, these are not my favorite decades either; nevertheless, I will share some gems from these time periods

And so it goes.  "Part 2" will focus on the 1930s. 

The Fear of Getting Older

When I was 15, one of my best friends, Krissy Engh, and I decided to celebrate our "Sweet 16th" birthday party together.  Seeing that we were separated by one day (she being the older), it made perfect sense.  Thus, we gathered 100 of our friends at a local establishment, had a DJ and partied like it was 1989 (it was!). 

As we were dancing, I looked around and thought to myself, "This may be the happiest day of my life."  Why wouldn't it be?  16, young, full of life, and with your friends.  Who could ask for more? 

But it didn't start that way...as a kid we had a tendency to move a lot for a lot of reasons.  I once tried to count and think I came up with around 20 different places I lived between 2nd grade and 5th grade and an additional 20 between 9th and 12th.  It was middle school where I found some stability as I went to live with my grandparents in New York.  However, after 8th grade, I decided to move back to Florida to be with my mom and start high school.  But as most people realize, middle school changes a lot of things.  The friends I had in Florida when I left had moved on, formed new friendships, and so I was starting over...

My freshman year was hell.  Sophomore year didn't start much better.  Then I started making some friends.  Krissy was one of them.  We had a lot in common and found solace in each other's friendship.  Six months later we were celebrating the biggest birthday of our young lives.  We both had made a lot of friendships and things were looking up as I was elected class president for the upcoming junior year. 

It was sometime that night as we were dancing that I decided I never wanted to be older than I was then.  I was scared of what being older would bring.  Not just the wrinkles, flabby tummy, and other ailments, but the idea that my life could be like some of the older people that I knew--some had children who didn't appreciate them; others had never quite fulfilled the promise of their abilities, and yet others were just drinking their life away.  Or maybe I worried that if things did go well and I lived the American Dream of marriage, kids, etc, that I could still end up like, say, my grandparents who worried constantly about their kids and their well-being to the point that it became the obsession of their later years.   

What was there to look forward to--it all seemed sad?  I wanted to remember my 16th year and live in it forever.  I was young, cute, and had a lot of friends.  It would never be the same again, I was sure of it. 

21 years later I still remember that night so well.  I recently saw Krissy and she (like me in many ways) hasn't changed much.  We both look younger than our age; we both are happy with our partners in life; and we are both fairly successful despite our backgrounds.  But I still am terrified of aging.  I don't do it well. 

In 21 years I have lost many people who meant the world to me.  I have had my ups and downs with weight.  I have tremendous student loan debt for receiving multiple degrees that have led me to a job that doesn't ultimately pay enough for me to live the life I should be able to.  Am I miserable?  No.  Am I envious of being 16 again?  Yes...many times. 

It's not as easy to make friends like it was then.  I can't quite run like I used to.  I look in the mirror and sometimes wonder where that kid with all the idealism went.  I don't think I have changed that much, but I have.  I love my life...but I also miss my life.  It's difficult reconciling one's life.  Would I change my life right now?  No.  Am I regretful?  Not really.  But can I get stuck in moments I can't get out of like this memory?  Yes.  And that's the part that is probably the scariest of all...

On Being Catholic

I was brought up believing that there were certain practices you had to practice to be worthy of God's acceptance--penance, special prayers, daily Mass, confession, etc.  Unfortunately, I never really understand what all of this meant but rather just knew I had to do it.  One of the problems the Catholic Church faces is that it does not do a good job of educating the young into the "whys" of what we do within the faith.  Further, we aren't really brought up in a church that is "fun" for young people either.  For example, I know churches that have rock bands, roller skating parks, and mega game nights within their compound for the younger members to be able to have fellowship and be "saved" over a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. 

Most Catholics I know don't really appreciate their faith until they become older.  Many of us search for something else...something that we can understand.  Many of us turn away from it all because it's too daunting.  Too many rules.  Too many things to remember.  Not enough time.  Not fun enough.  And so it goes. 

For me, as I began to really experience life and understand the complexities of love and loss, of life and death, of faith and religion, of prayer and worship, of literal translations of the Bible to the grace of life and learning, I started to understand what no Sunday school could teach me and that no threat from family or priests could impact upon me.  That is, that I found great comfort in many of the rituals and traditions of the Catholic Church.  The comfort of a rosary in my hand as I recited the Lord's Prayer or the reading of a Missal for reflection or the receiving of a prayer card or the adoration of the Eucharist. 

As I began to recognize the comfort of it all, I also began to realize why we, as Catholics, did these things that appear trivial to others.  And as I learned and grew in my understanding, so I grew in my faith.  These difficulties did not make me less Catholic, less Christian, or more importantly, less accepted by God.  They were the cross I had to bear.  Not for acceptance, but for further growth and understanding.

Whether you are Catholic or not, before you are quick to judge another person's faith background, customs, traditions, take a moment to learn about them and understand the reasons behind them.  You will grow in your knowledge of world religions and you may just grow in your own faith (whatever it may be) in doing so.  Along the way, we might all just learn to appreciate each other that much more while growing closer to God.

Border Song and Immigration Laws

When does this madness stop?  Nine more states are looking into imposing an immigration law much like the one Arizona has passed this year.  While I won't spend time here rehashing the details of the law (for a general overview, just Google Arizona SB 1070 and you will get more than you care to see on the matter), I will say that my basic argument against this law and laws like it is that it leads to the same issues that many other laws like this (that I oppose) eventually lead to--racial profiling, civil rights violations, and quite simply, an inhospitable culture and community. 

The concept of hospitality and brother/sisterhood is generally where I am the most concerned.  Whether we recall racial conflicts, religious wars, GLBT concerns and issues, etc. the bottom line is that some majority has imposed on some minority the concept of being "less than" or "unequal."  Hospitality is one of the oldest concepts we have come to know.  Whether we consider Biblical teachings of Sodom and Gomorrah (sorry crazy right wingers--it's a story about being inhospitable at its very core) or we consider "The Golden Rule" that Christ, himself taught us (and is shared in the Gospels), we are called to remember to love God with all the strength we have, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  Luke reminds us in 10:25-37 of how we inherit eternal life.  Love! 

Hospitality is a form of charity...think of how you receive guests into your home.  Think of how a receptionist is supposed to invite a client into a business office.  Think of how a doctor or nurse is supposed to receive a patient.  Think of your schools, your churches...many have a welcoming committee or some social structure that invites others to be a part of the community.  All of this is to be received, welcomed, have a sense of care and belonging to something, to someone, to some purpose. 

As we think about this immigration issue or as we consider the barriers we place upon people because they are "different" in race, religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation, etc. think about God's commandment of loving your neighbor.  I realize that people will have stories to share about how this "illegal" or that "queer" or that "nigger" or whatever else they can come up with to justify why certain laws should be on the books take place.  Some of us will even buy into them in a moment of panic or fear.  But in the end, think about the dangers of generalizing groups of people behind certain stories of individuals who may have done something bad or something that goes against one's way of thinking.  Also consider why some people are driven to the actions that they are driven to.  These are not excuses or justifications, but merely an attempt to get out of the danger of segregating the masses, of imposing one's will on someone else, or of wanting to bash another's civil rights for some illogical fear. 

We are all God's children.  We are called to love.  It's all we really have to do.

Music and Memories

Every once in a while I become fixated on a memory.  I mean truly fixated.  It's as if I leave where I am and go back to another place and time.  A more innocent time, usually--one filled with so many raw emotions.  First discoveries, first loves, first loss, etc.  I had one of those moments this morning.

As I was preparing for my day, I heard a song I hadn't heard in a long time.  It was a Chicago song ("No Tell Lover") and when I think of Chicago I immediately am taken back to the late 70s or early 80s (during the Peter Cetera years) when they ruled the charts with their mellow pop sounds.  Anyway, this particular song made me think of a drive I was taking with my grandmother along route 16 from Machias, NY to Olean, NY.  To be honest, I doubt that the song was playing during that drive but it may have been.  The lyrics have no special meaning to me either to register this memory, but there is something about the mood of the song that took me back to this particular memory.  The memory itself isn't even that important.  Instead, it's the feeling of being transported back to a time where everyone you love is still alive; where you feel safe; where you have no real worries in life. 

It's these memories that I find myself in more and more lately.  Is it a sign of getting older?  Is it a sign of being blue?  I'm not sure but music has a way of triggering these feelings in ways that nothing else seems to register in quite the same way.  Pictures don't really do it, talking about the memory doesn't help much either.  But the specific sound of a band, of a song...the times just come flooding back. 

When the song ends, oftentimes so does the memory--at least the fixation on the memory.  It's like waking from a dream you don't want to wake from.  Hard as I try to go back, I can't.  Unfortunately, we never really can.

Adoption Considerations

Cole and I have been considering adoption for awhile now.  There was a time, when we first got together (back in 2003), that I can honestly say we were not very interested in the idea of kids.  Some of that sentiment came from the fact that we were both very selfish--we wanted to do what we wanted to do when we wanted to do it and a child would only get in the way of those plans.  More came from the fact that neither of us were especially confident of what type of parents we would be considering the dysfunction that we both were raised under.  And yet some of our unwillingness to consider children came from an unspoken truth that only now seems to be clear--we are gay men in a society that still does not accept us as equal citizens. 

For the past year we have been exploring different options that might work for us to establish a family.  While I never expected adoption to be a simple process, I also never realized the complexities behind the possibilities. 

First, there are the laws.  As gay men we can adopt as single parents in many states (with the second partner being able to adopt months later); we can adopt jointly in more progressive states (northeast and pacific coastline states primarily); and then it goes from foggy (the Bible belt states are not clear in what is and isn't warranted) to downright nasty (Florida bans gay men from adopting in any way--single, together). 

Once you get past the state issues, there are the considerations of whether you want to deal with for-profit agencies, not-for profit agencies, or the Department of Social Services.  In many cases the for-profit can cost anywhere from $12k and up whereas the not-for profit and DSS actually pay you a stipend for taking a child into your home. 

The key is considering what type of child you want and the amount of risk you are willing to take.  If you want a baby, you have to consider what role the birth mother will play post birth. Will it be an open or closed adoption?  Will it be a surrogate situation?  The costs can quickly add up and in the end the mother can still back out of her decision to give the child up for adoption (and who can blame her if she wants to keep the child?). 

If you want a child that comes from a broken home, you will most likely end up with an older child.  DSS has a goal to reunite the child with the parents and will continue to work in that vein until the relationship is beyond repair.  Only then can the court get involved to remove the parental rights.  Depending on decisions and appeals, this can be a couple of years in the waiting.

If you want a baby or a toddler...good luck.  Everyone does.  If you want a 15 year old, you most likely will be in luck.  But a good 95% of these kids have gone through foster home after foster home and only after suffering through years of intense poverty, neglect, and oftentimes sexual abuse.  Talk about taking on risk! 

Throughout, Cole and I have had to continually reflect and consider why we want to adopt.  After all, we are gay men in a world where having two daddies is not necessarily an ideal for society or for many children to subscribe to.  We are not naieve enough to believe that this will be simple for anyone involved.  We also recognize that many kids up for adoption have had it rough and will continue to be challenged in school, in relationships, and in life.  Having two dads doesn't make that easier when trying to acclimate into a school, community, church, etc.  If the child comes from another background (race, religion, ethnicity), he/she will have additional considerations to focus on in identity development that could make having two dads even more challenging.

So the question we continue to ask ourselves is--are we being fair to a child or are we again being selfish?  It's a fair question.  But here's what we know and I can honestly say...Cole and I are good men.  We have grown in many ways over the past seven plus years together.  We have lived, loved, and lost.  We have experienced great highs and tremendous lows.  Through it all one thing was clear--our love for each other was strong and we have been able to overcome many of the challenges thrown our way.  This, despite not having the strongest support system around us.  This, despite not always having family and friend acceptance.  This, despite multiple moves around the country to multiple jobs and faced with considerable student loan debt from all of my degrees through the years. 

One of the common bonds that drew Cole and me together in the beginning was our faith in God and our Christian values of love, friendship, honesty, integrity, and respect.  That has only grown stronger with us over the years.  While we are of a strong Catholic faith, going to church weekly doesn't make us stronger--our constant communication about what we value and our love of God and our want to be good people does.  These values carry over in our daily lives.  We live our values--it's a principle centered life.  We treat others with kindness; we give and give freely; and we treat all living things and the world around us with a profound respect.  Whether it be in recycling to protect the earth, provide to charitable causes every chance we get, or help someone in need, we do these things because it is who we are and what we value. 

What does this all mean in the long run?  In a nutshell, Cole and I want to start a family because we have so much to give.  We are stable in employment, in our relationship, and in our faith and values.  We may not be ideal for everyone but we are perfect for someone.  Somewhere out there is a child(ren) who needs us.  A child who doesn't care that he/she has two dads but that needs to be the most important person in the world to someone.  A child who will be provided a foundation based on love, trust, and acceptance.  That child can be white, black, gay, straight, Christian, non-Christian, handicapped, etc.  It doesn't matter.  Our child will know nothing more than the sacrifices that two men have had to take to make this happen.

It's never easy to have a child.  I get that.  But consider this...when someone questions whether a gay couple, particularly gay men, can parent a child, I would want them to think about a few things:

1.  We cannot naturally conceive a child.  That's not God's punishment on us.  That's God's way of giving us an ability to help control the world's population and take care of those that have been abandoned by their birth parents. 
2.  We have to go through extensive background checks and processes that a birth parent doesn't even have to consider.  Natural reproduction is wonderful but it doesn't guarantee the parent will be a fit mother/father.  There are over 9,000 children in North Carolina alone who can testify to that sentiment.
3.  We don't have to parent anyone.  We don't get caught in "mistakes" of unplanned pregnancies.  Instead, we have to choose to want to parent and go through living our lives under a microscope to do so.  Sometimes this can be years in the making.  And there is never a guarantee it will come to fruition.
4.  We will continue to face stigmas that we cannot parent; that we cannot provide a stable foundation for a child; that we will be considered suspicious (after all why would two men want to parent--it can't possibly be for legitimate, genuine purposes right?); and all the while all we yearn for is the ability to provide a better home for a child than they have been given in life.

There will be those that say, "but this is the choice you have made in being gay."  To that I say "phooey."  I never made that choice.  I never made a choice in life that would put me under constant scrutiny.  I never made a choice...I am who I am and who I have always known myself to be.  Our child will also be who he/she is meant to be.  You see, when you grow up with support and acceptance you can change the world.  When you grown up with confidence and love you can move mountains.  One of the greatest gifts that being gay has brought me in my life is my ability to relate to all people in all circumstances.  You see, to be gay, I know oppression.  I know prejudice.  I understand hate and intolerance.  But I also have experienced great acceptance.  Great love.  And through it all I have gained tremendous self-confidence and self-worth.  I can share that with my partner and with my child.  And maybe, in that thought, I can find the peace of mind to know why we are meant to be parents.