How young is too young to talk about gays?
Those who know me well know that I
occasionally do freelance admin work for a man who runs his own business (a
legal consulting firm) from his house. The setup is nice: I go in whenever my
schedule allows it and organise the crap out of his office, calculate his
expenses, pack away his old files, etc., and then invoice him at the end of the
month. Sometimes, when my weekdays are especially busy with other temp work (an
actor has to eat), the weekends are my only opportunity to stop in.
One particular Saturday, when my work kept
me late into the evening, George and his wife Jessica informed me that they
would be hosting some neighbours for an indoor cookout and also to watch some
big important match or something on telly. I said that it was fine, as I’d be tucked
away in the office upstairs, and maybe I’d join them for a burger once I was
finished. So I got to work, sat at the computer clicking away with my iPhone
plugged in and playing music to keep me focused. Jessica, in her perpetual
franticness, popped her head in the doorway at one point and said, “Would you
like a glass of wine? White or red?” I said I’d have white please.
As the neighbours arrived, so did their
kids, and some time later, the small group of them decided to play hide and
seek. And of course, when you’re playing hide and seek, the entire house is
your playground. When they finally made it up to the office, I pointed out a
few good places to hide and there they sat waiting for their seeker. Meanwhile
my iPhone played on; by then I had moved on to YouTube to play songs I didn’t
have in my library.
“Why do you watch the videos?” said one
girl who must have been about six.
“Because I like them,” I replied.
“I saw a music video once. They were kissing,” she said, horrified.
“I know. They do that sometimes.”
When they were eventually found and dragged
out, one of the boys, probably 8 or so, instead of running back downstairs,
made a beeline for my phone and helped himself to it. “Is this an iPhone?” he
said, and then, without waiting for approval, added, “What games do you have?”
Thankfully it was plugged in and charging; otherwise I would have grabbed it
back from him for fear of him walking off with it. Instead I told him I had
loads of games and allowed him to switch off YouTube and flick through my apps;
after all, people have inspected my phone in such a fashion before, and knew
better than to keep incriminating or embarrassing material on it.
Well, except for that photo I use for the
background of my home page: a mostly naked male model, well-built and
well-groomed, and in an ever-so-slightly sexual pose. The idea was that I would
see it every time I used my phone and remind myself that I’m actively trying to
eat healthy and get fit (and then put the chocolate back). I hadn’t exactly forgotten
about it, but in that moment it didn’t cross me as something shameful. Most of
my friends wouldn’t bat an eyelid (well, maybe they’d raise an eyebrow), but
then most of my friends are not 8-year-old boys.
He hadn’t even noticed it until he flicked
all the way to the last page, where there were minimal screen obstructions and
you could pretty much see everything. “Who’s that?”
Oops.
Maybe it was that I didn’t want to take the time to
explain my psychological encouragement to get fit, or perhaps it was that large
glass of wine on a near-empty stomach, but what I ended up saying was, “Oh, he’s
… that’s my boyfriend.”
By then, his sister, who was maybe 10 or
11, had returned to collect her sibling. It was she who piped up then. “You
have a boyfriend?” she shouted, more astonished and incredulous than curious.
I responded simply with “Yup,” and then she
came over to have a look. They studied the photo for a few seconds when the
girl said, “What’s his name?”
I couldn’t think of a fake name fast enough,
so I just said, “Richard.” I was on the verge of taking it back and saying,
“Okay that’s enough,” when the boy, already bored, started flicking back
through the pages, looking for more games.
The girl looked back at me. “Why do you
have a boyfriend?”
“I just do. Some boys have boyfriends.”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course I do.”
“But that’s weird.”
“No it’s not. It’s perfectly normal. Why
would it be weird?”
“I dunno.”
“It would be fine if you had a girlfriend.
You can have a boyfriend or a girlfriend; it doesn’t matter.”
I must have started to go over her heard at
that point because she redirected the attention back to her brother. “Isaac has
a girlfriend. Her name’s Katie.”
“Well that’s perfectly normal, too,” I
said.
Isaac, either not listening or not caring,
said, “This is an iPhone 4.”
“No it’s not,” I said. “It’s a 4S.”
“Nuh-uh, if it was a 4S it would have Siri.”
“It does have Siri.”
“No it doesn’t.”
So I took the phone from him and showcased
the 4S by holding down the home button and asking, “What time is it?” when Siri
popped up.
Isaac took the phone back, activated Siri
again and said, “Call … my boyfriend!”
The two of them laughed out loud at that
and I thought it was harmless, but after a few minutes, somehow Isaac was able
to find Richard in my address book and then attach the label “my boyfriend” to
him. (Man, kids and technology nowadays!) It actually started to call him when
I finally snatched the phone back and said, “Okay that’s it! Out of the
office!”
“I’m gonna tell everyone that you have a boyfriend!” the sister threatened with a
big, fat, mischievous grin on her face.
“I don’t care,” I teased back rather
childishly. “It’s not a secret.”
Not convinced by my answer, she ran down
the stairs and ducked into a bedroom. I took my empty wine glass into the
kitchen, where Jessica promptly refilled it. I was chatting with some of the
other adults for only a minute or so before the girl ran in and shouted to
everyone, “Jonathon has a boyfriend!
He has a picture of him on his phone!”
If I’m completely honest I’m sure I reddened
a little, but no one seemed to have noticed. The woman who was speaking didn’t
even allow the girl to interrupt her speech. A man who must have been her dad turned
to her and said, “Yes, yes, Abby, now go play.” He shooed her away and turned
right back to the conversation, not giving her outburst a second thought.
And that was it. She ran off and went back
to playing with the other children, and I finished my work there for the day
(and had a lovely lamb burger and some grilled Halloumi cheese). Afterwards
part of me wondered if being honest about my sexuality to an 8-year-old was
appropriate, but then I thought, why not? If they are old enough to have
girlfriends, then they are old enough to understand that some people are gay.
I’m glad Abby’s father dismissed his
child’s apparent revelation of a scandal as mere silliness. But obviously at
some point Abby learned that if boys love boys (or if girls love girls), then that’s
weird. Or perhaps she had never considered that kind of situation before. But
either way, maybe it’s important to be prepared to have a brief discussion with
children about that when they’re ready.
Parents shy away from discussions like this
because they don’t like to think of their children (or any children) as sexual
beings. But why aren’t they? Humans are sexual beings, and children are humans.
We don’t think it’s weird when hordes of screaming prepubescent girls chase One
Direction down the street (though maybe we should – that’s a bad example), or
when a boy and a girl play at a pretend wedding. So why is there a discrepancy
with gays? We don’t think twice about straight behaviour. I think it comes from
an underlying subconscious prejudice that some of us have that still equates
“straight” with “normal”.
So how young is too young to talk about
homosexuality? The simple answer is that it’s the same age you feel it’s too
young to talk about sexuality in general. Why make it a different topic?
Perhaps the six-year-old girl was horrified by the thought of kissing because
she innocently didn’t understand it. But the fact that she even saw it means
she’s already slowly being introduced to a world with sex in it. Wouldn’t you
rather your child grow into an adult with a healthy attitude towards sex? They
won’t become that by only paying attention to the media.
I get really annoyed at adults who say
things like, “I can’t tell my teenage children about gay people;
they just wouldn’t understand.” Why not? Why is it such a difficult thing to
explain? When adults make homosexuality a taboo subject, children interpret
that to mean it is something shameful. And if they’re being taught those sorts
of things while growing up, it will be harder to convince them otherwise once
they’re adults.
Kids are learning machines and they are
naturally inquisitive and they will ask questions. So when they do, let’s just
answer them honestly. It shouldn’t have to be weird at all.
[some details that are irrelevant to the
story (e.g. people’s names) have been changed to protect you from the wrath of my
invisible pink unicorn]
Bravo Jonathon! I'm proud of you! And I love you too!
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