‘Coming Out’ a Risk That’s Worth Taking : Homosexuality: Gays and lesbians aren’t the only ones who fear ostracism from society. Their parents do, too.

In the next few weeks, the San Diego City Council will consider a “human dignity ordinance” to prohibit discrimination against gays and lesbians in housing and employment. If the council acts positively, as so many of us hope it will, some of our daughters and sons will breathe a small sigh of relief.

But is that all there is? What about the rest of society?

Twenty years ago, I tiptoed out of the closet with our gay son. Twenty years of subsequent experience as the parent of a gay child have whitened my hair and strengthened my purpose.

A psychiatrist friend said recently that “ ‘coming out’ is a lifetime job . . . “ I can attest to that. It is an ongoing process for all of us--gays and lesbians, their parents and their friends.

I went public five years ago with an article that was published in a national magazine. Sharing this way with so many strangers, however, did not mean that acceptance was waiting in the wings, that family and friends were lining up to pat me on the head and say, “We understand.”

And it surely did not mean that all of my conflicts were resolved. The confusing emotions of anger and grief, denial and disappointment, rejection and mourning continued their assault for a long time before they gave way to peace and comfort. But sharing did allow me to take an additional step away from the closet.

Not every parent needs to write an article to face their child’s truth; each of us must handle that in her or his own way. But each does need to turn to others for support. Coping alone in privacy might save pride, but it does not build family happiness or emotional well-being. “Coming out” is not easy; it is a gamble, a risk we must take. It can pay off; trust me, I know. I found support out there.

At the outset, I was reluctant to talk about Jeff to family and friends. Would they reject both of us? When I finally dared speak out, I found, to my surprise, a number of open arms and willing listeners. Most seemed to have been waiting for us to inform them.

Good friends berated us for not allowing them early on to share our grief, our disappointment and our recovery. Did we not trust their affection for us? Had we no confidence in their understanding? How could we keep such a matter to ourselves when we shared so many confidences? Several revealed that they, too, had gay children. Such intimacy and sharing eased our pain and helped erase our fears.

Most relatives were neither surprised nor shocked. I was certain that when my mother-in-law heard about Jeff’s homosexuality, it would affirm her own worst fears (about me): what a terrible mother her son had chosen for his children. One day we were both rather mellow, feeling kindly to one another. I told her about Jeff. Her comment was a shrug that clearly conveyed, “That’s life!” I am sure she was disappointed, but Jeff was a member of the family and she would not amputate him.

Other relatives continued to care about our son, loving him and, as before, including him within the family circle. Even on the day he appeared at a family party with freshly peroxided hair and outrageous clothing, he was embraced and warmly welcomed (although I was infuriated by his demeanor). He never needed to be flamboyant again; he had found acceptance and was no longer compelled to challenge his family.

One relative, however, was different from the rest. She responded with silence. I had expected support from her; she had been my friend, my confidante during my growing up. I confronted her discomfort; she said she could not “handle it.” She was a disappointment, but there was no time for tears over one lost friendship. In our family she is alone, even today, in her bigotry.

As the years roll by, I become more and more comfortable in the light outside the closet. Now, when new friends ask about our children and wonder if our son is married, I find it increasingly easy to answer: “No. You see, he is gay.” Responses usually are, “How wonderful that you say it with such ease. . . . Was it difficult to get to this place?” or “Thank you for sharing a personal confidence.” One neighbor wept; she was deeply moved.

No one has turned away in disdain. Some folks are unable to comment; occasionally, another will speak up when silence would be better. I recall the woman who rose at a meeting and asked, “Are you still able to tell your son that you love him?”

Sharing the fact of Jeff’s homosexuality with his sister was difficult for all of us. Judi was 19 at the time and newly married. She and Jeff, only 18 months apart, were close. They trusted one another. Her copious tears at the telling came from shock, disappointment and compassion. She and Jeff have remained warm friends. When a neighbor recently asked Judi if she allowed Jeff to play with her young son, his nephew, she was furious and prepared to do battle. Our children travel in different social circles, but they are integral parts of the family circle.

Acquaintances are often more difficult to confront and bear than friends and family. A closet bigot is hard to spot in the warm glow of the neighborhood cocktail party. I have been burned, nevertheless, and I come away with more confidence each time.

Recently, at such a gathering, a relative stranger said, “I never go to San Francisco; there are too many of them up there.” I challenged her directly, even as I do those who dare tell anti-gay jokes. I identified myself as the parent of a gay son, and I grabbed the opportunity to educate her to the myths and misconceptions surrounding homosexuality.

Support and understanding often come from the least expected sources. After the party, my hostess called to apologize for her rude guest and to express her personal concern for me. We had a long talk about people and homosexuality. The evening was not lost.

We parents of gays and lesbians should speak up, openly and confidently; if we hesitate, the listener hesitates; if we are doubtful, we enforce the listener’s doubts. If, however, we believe that our gay children deserve our support, then we can, by our personal attitudes, evoke the support of others.

Gay people are often fearful of both rejection and ostracism. We parents are, too. We worry that the “good-parent” stamp of approval will be denied us when loved ones discover that our child is gay.

I believe with all my heart that most of our parents, siblings and friends love us too much to withhold their support. Besides, folks generally “know” by the time we “confess”; they merely wait for us to prove that we trust them, by confiding. As one friend explained, “Oh, I knew that Jeff was gay; I wondered if you did!”