Where Did I Come From?

I’ve often wondered—and more lately—what has made me the person I am.  After all, in some ways I’m pretty conventional, but in others—boy, am I “out on the edge!”

I’m sure that some of it has to do with growing up with the (U.S.) military.  I did go to kindergarten in a civilian setting: in Ferndale, Pennsylvania (a suburb of Johnstown), along with my cousin.  My grandmother and my aunt and uncles lived nearby.  But—I lived with only my mother, not my father.  My father was working in Japan.

This is the earliest time I remember—a time without a father, at least physically.  I knew I had a father; he just wasn’t there.  I knew where he was; it was just “somewhere else.”  I remember his visit one year over Christmas.  He came to be with my mother and my two sisters.

Then my father was back “for good,” and for five years we all lived on an Air Force base in Virginia.  I had been born in Virginia (on an Army base) but remembered nothing about it.  My father had left for Korea, probably when I was two, in the aftermath of the Korean War.

Why the switch from Army to Air Force?  My father was not actually in the military.  He worked for the Red Cross, which has a division that supports the military; that is, it provides humanitarian assistance for military personnel.

Up until the age of eleven, I lived in a rather artificial environment.  I walked down the street a few blocks to the base elementary school.  When I wanted to go to a movie, I walked a little further down the street.  When I wanted to go swimming in the summer, I walked a block to the Officers Club.   We bought some of our food at the base commissary, additional food at a supermarket off base.  We bought other stuff at the Base Exchange (“BX”).  “Off-base” was a bit of a drive; we could walk to everything on-base.

The church we attended offered a generic Protestant service designed not to offend any of the Protestants in the military.  There was also a Catholic service and a Jewish service.  I’m not sure how the Mormons and more “fringe” Protestants felt about the Protestant service.  Eventually, after several years just attending Sunday School, I went with my mother to Sunday services (I don’t think my father ever attended).  I don’t recall the services being at all “evangelical”—although I remember a few hymns such as “The Old Rugged Cross” and “Stand Up, Stand Up For Jesus.”

But how is it that, in time, I became a Unitarian Universalist Pagan; and realized that I was bisexual and polyamorous?

Weekend Stresses—Religious and Social

This weekend had turned out unusually stressful for me.  I’ve been given a lot to think about.       What seemed like an innocent Facebook post by a friend of mine about the demise of the Hostess Twinkie led quickly into the politics of government bailouts and from there into wild denunciations of liberals, followed by denunciations of the denunciations.  The workweek had ended with union discussions at work about corporate budget and possible layoffs.   I didn’t need the Twinkie Debacle on top of that.

Saturday involved, in addition to the Twinkie Affair, several hours of driving about and walking about looking for ideal sites for English Morris dancing (my wife leads a team):  Libraries, downtowns, parks…  Back home, just as I was aching for a nap, it turned out that we needed to head for a fundraising dinner.  After the dinner I facilitated the South Bay Poly meeting (which was really good, actually—nine people and a good discussion) followed by Family Game Night (the “Game of Life,” which I hadn’t played for years).

Which calmed me down heading into Sunday’s events:  A Baptism for the baby son of a friend of mine.  That’s fine—except that I’m Unitarian Universalist and the Episcopal service, complete with the Nicene creed, brought up a lot of emotional baggage.  For starters, how to respect my hosts while respecting my own beliefs at the same time?  I joined in some of the ritual lines, but not the Credo and not the Lord’s Prayer.  However, I did participate in the Eucharist, which triggered an additional set of anxieties.  At a Catholic Mass, I wouldn’t have done it, but the Episcopalians made a point of saying that everyone was welcome to participate.  I still hesitated; I spent a few years engaged to a Catholic, back in my twenties, and that training told me I would not be welcome if I were not “of the faith.”  I kept thinking of T.S. Eliot, one of my favorite poets, who had converted to Anglicanism (ie. Episcopalian) back around 1927.  I hesitated again—what would my Jewish friends there do??  I’d show solidarity with them, either way!  Then I thought, No, the Episcopalians said everyone was welcome….  So I went up.  

Then what to do about (what I believe the Catholics call) the Kiss of Peace?  I actually thought the service was over, but it was just people walking about, giving one another the greeting of peace.

Afterwards, I went to my girlfriend’s and watched the film George Wallace, with Gary Sinese as the former Alabama governor.  This was right after someone on Facebook brought up the Tulsa race riots of 1921 and the Emmett Till murder of 1955, so I was in a rare mood when we started the movie.  A good film, though I could quibble with some aspects of the script.  Then I went home and did the grocery shopping and the laundry.

The end result of this weekend has been, I think, a lot of feelings coming up for me.  I suspect I have a lot of poetry to write this week to deal with all this.  We’ll see.

How Far Polys Have Come?

I was touched last weekend when a friend of mine, in the process of becoming a Unitarian Universalist minister, told me she had officiated recently at a ceremony of union for a poly family.  She and I had talked, many years ago, about polyamory and our local support group.  Then she had moved out of the area and eventually begun studying for the ministry.  Since then she has returned, but we have not had the opportunity to discuss polyamory.  I don’t know what ins and outs she has experienced in her own life.  But I was touched when she told me about this ceremony, which she had to create largely on her own, being unable to find much appropriate material elsewhere.

How far we’ve come!  I told her I had seen ceremonies of blessing and commitment for poly families.  Still, they are not readily available, as she discovered.  Perhaps we can change that.

I grew up probably naturally inclined to polyness, not understanding how unusual and how socially unacceptable this was.  Even now, after almost twenty years of facilitating South Bay Polys, I realize that most people in our society think of polyamory as sinful, or irresponsible, or a joke.  Actually, it’s probably more accurate to say that most people have never even heard of polyamory.  Yet we are probably more visible than we have ever been.

Well, let’s do what we can for each other.  Love is love, support is support—and it does help to know that there are people like us, here and everywhere.  Some environments are safer for us than others, some places more accepting.  And know that we have friends who support us—like my friend the Unitarian Universalist, and others.