One year later - a gay man was beaten with board, yet believes tolerance for gays is on the way up - Brief Article

Just about a year ago, a small percentage of Maine voters succeeded in repealing our long-awaited civil fights law, to the great dismay of most of us Mainers. Soon after, I had the distinct displeasure of being whacked in the face by a fellow wielding a 2-by-4. That, at least, is the sort of weapon that the soft-spoken emergency room doctor thought had caused my concussion and the two fractures in my face. The attorney general's office speculated that I was the victim of a hate crime, a gay bashing. Who would have expected it on a lovely, sunny holiday afternoon in the pretty, rolling countryside north of Portland?

The bruises are long gone. The fractures are nicely healed. I am fortunate to have had the opportunity to carry on with this good life. In a way, that guy with the 2-by-4 did some good. It's a real treat being, as we say around here, wicked out. Being outed on the front page of the paper saves having to do all that coming out to the guy at the checkout counter who comments that it's nice you're giving your wife a break by taking the kids shopping with you.

The guy with the 2-by-4 did something else. He propelled me onto a stage with the governor and other leaders in front of all the media. We all said a few things. Just as important, many good-hearted but uninformed Mainers saw that a gay person can come in a traditional package, such as a doctor with three children and a partner, quietly contributing to society just as they do. That kind of education goes a long way. They also saw why we need laws to protect us.

Of course, we are still bashed all the time. I have been dismayed by the stories of friends who told me of their own assaults after hearing of mine. So lately I've thought a lot about what we expect and what we should expect.

Some of us expect a lot. We expect that our politicians will listen to us. We expect our parents and our children and ourselves to behave better than we do. We expect that the institutions of government will protect us. We expect that all religions will foster love.

We expect bigots to see the light. But unfortunately, we might be expecting more than we flawed human beings are capable of.

On the other hand, some of us don't expect much. We expect nothing but miserable, self-interested behavior. We may elect to live in gated communities, locking out the "riff-raff." We may cower in the closet. We may become paranoid, pessimistic, or apathetic. This stance is cynical, but sadly, it's also common.

It seems to me that if we are to be most happy and most effective, our expectations must be realistic. This, then, is the challenge: to figure out what is realistic. I have an answer only for me.

You see, last year was a pretty good one for me and my family. Our charming son learned to walk and to say, in his best Maine accent, "Heah, heah, all done," when he finished his bottle. Our daughters, with all their braids and bluster, just got cuter and cuter. My baby sister was married to a great guy. My partner had a nice promotion at work And lots of people were very kind to me and my family. I'll bet I had a better year than the unfortunate fellow who hit me had.

So I'll tell you what I expect. I expect things to go pretty well. Most of us won't be assaulted or fired this year because we're gay. Most of us will manage to get along in our relationships even though we can't get married, and most of us won't get cancer, have a heart attack, or go bankrupt. We'll enjoy many great times with our friends and family and stay relatively healthy.

Oh, I'm not naive--or at least not as naive as I used to be. Bad things happen all the time. And some of us will not have a good year at all. This is certainly not a time for complacency. We need to fight for many things, including equal rights of all sorts, hate-crimes legislation, and a good, fair, compassionate health policy. We need to work locally to improve our communities and nationally for our interests and the interests of other disenfranchised groups.

But it seems to me that we can do all this with a smile. We have a lot to be happy about. This past year I lived when I could well have been dead. And this next year too, you and I will probably keep on living and probably have a lot to enjoy. For most of us, this life is pretty darn good.

Mitchell is a psychiatrist in private practice and at the Homeless Health Clinic in Portland, Maine.

COPYRIGHT 1999 Liberation Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2000 Gale Group