14 Years of Ignorance
I must have been eight or nine when I was up in LA visiting my dad and his “roommate,” Ricardo. We were watching the Super Bowl. One of the teams was losing really badly, and I said that the losing team was “so gay!”
“That team is gay? What do you mean?” my dad and Ricardo asked, looking at each other, then at me.
“They’re gay!” I repeated in my best “duh” voice. “They suck! They’re lame! They’re really bad.”
Nothing more was said on the subject. This was the early 1980s. Reagan was president. AIDS was new. I didn’t know any gay people, and there was no reason for me in my conservative suburban San Diego environment to meet any.
And as far as the adults in my life were concerned, including my gay dad, that was the way it should be.
13 Years of Transition
I stood in the tiny studio apartment on Page Street in San Francisco, just off Divisadero, all the noises of the city almost, but not quite, drowning out my dad’s announcement that he was gay, and that it was okay if I cried, and it was okay if I didn’t understand, which of course I didn’t, because homosexuality wasn’t a part of my life, and I didn’t want it to be part of my life, except that now it was a part of my life, and I didn’t know how to handle it, because no one had prepared me to handle it, and I was fourteen, the prime homophobic year of my life.
I was a freshman in high school. I had decisions to make: continue to make anti-gay jokes and slurs with my friends, or own up to the fact that I had a gay dad. I did neither. Instead I didn’t tell a soul until I was 20 years old.
If my teenage years and early twenties were filled with denial, embarrassment, isolation, and fear of discovery, my mid twenties revealed signs of maturity, acceptance, and understanding that came to define who I am today.
12 Years of Continuing Evolution
My dad died of AIDS in 2000, when I was 27. For several years leading up to that point I had become pretty comfortable telling people that I had a gay dad. It was freeing, not only for me personally, but for the development of my dad’s and my relationship.
This was partly do to my maturation, and it was also largely due to me surrounding myself with people, activities, and ideas that were more in line with my new way of seeing the world. A few months after my dad passed away I moved from San Diego to San Francisco.
In the Bay Area the environment was more than just tolerant of the LGBTQ community; it was accepting, embracing, and even celebratory. It is within this community culture that my continuing evolution of speaking out for gay rights began, and continues to this day.
I am part of The Gay Dad Project because I know that the work we’re doing will make a difference for people who were, or are, in my situation. I hope my story will inspire other people to share their stories.
I believe that when we all talk about this stuff in an open and honest community space we will make a difference.
- Jared


Jared,
My dad has had some extreme reactions to my previous (and unintentional and inappropriate) references to things being “so gay” since he’s come out. I confess it took me awhile to remove that phrase from my vocabulary….I’m sorry your dad is gone, but I bet he’ll be watching us while we’re in Oakland and I’m sure he’s quite proud of you!
Wonderful post, Jared. Your Dad would be proud of you, I am sure. I made gay jokes, said inappropriate things about gay people before I accepted that I was gay. Keep on writing and fighting and I will keep on cheering you all on.
Thanks, Erin. Yes, I think a lot of used that phrase because we didn’t know any better, and because it was kind of “normalized.” And since no one really told me that I shouldn’t use it, well, I just kept using it. Until, of course, I began to know better. Maybe someday soon, everybody will know better. Yeah, I think my dad would have thought this was cool that we’re doing all this stuff. Can’t wait to catch up in person.
Thanks, Bill. Why do we all think it is okay to make gay jokes? Such a strange phenomena once you’re in the know. I will definitely keep on writing and fighting, and I’m thankful that you will be there to cheer us on. Glad we’ve connected.
jared:
Although I don’t know you and Amie, I am so very proud of all of you, for this project and for the people that you are! I am so sorry for the loss of your father, but the labor of love you are creating is his legacy, as well as your own. You three are changing minds and changing lives, for the better. I wish you outcomes beyond your greatest expectations. Julie Best (Erin’s mom)
Thanks so much, Julie, for your kind words. I do think of the work I’m doing as part of my dad’s legacy, as well as a powerful message to my own kids, who, at this point, are too young to know and understand it all. I’m excited to meet your daughter this weekend, and I hope to someday be able to meet you. Thanks for your support.