Newspaper Page Text
SOUTHERN VOICE OCTOBER14/1993
Coming up with a way for family to help family
How’s your money holding out?
I know that’s a rude question. That’s why 1
asked it.
It seems we’re trained from pre-newt-ness
to talk about our sex lives (Sex life? Who has
time?), preferences (Why, yes, I would prefer
some) and our orientation (What do Asians
know that I don’t?). We are encouraged to
divulge the functionality (or lack thereof) of
our founding families in the name of openness
and honesty (A fine old lesbian tradition, as in,
“Thank you for sharing”). And all things pri
vate become public property at the drop of an
inclination. Almost all things.
Except money.
If you have any, you’re taught not to tell
for fear of flaunting it, or worse yet, for fear of
charitable solicitations that always seem far
more charitable to the asker (as in, “Thank
you for sharing”). But if you don’t have any,
you’re in real trouble, because the lack of lucre
(bread, gelt, cash, currency, token, brass,
dough, capital, scratch, moola) is regarded as
a major character defect.
Now, in case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a
rather odd economy out there. Perhaps you
were waiting for the Clinton buckmeisters to
wave their magic wands and cure us of 12
Republican years by the time you have to re
place the hot water heater. Or you thought it
was just you. Or you and some of your friends,
none of whom ever exactly comes right out
and says, “We don’t know how we’re going to
pay rent and eat in the same month,” but you
kind of get the idea.
Last week, I listened to a friend with a nice
haircut talk about reading a $20 book, one
chapter at a time, every time she went to the
bookstore, because $20 for a spare book wasn’t
Cleaning Out
My Closet
by SHELLY ROBERTS
“currently in her operating budget.” Which
didn’t thrill my other friend, the bookstore
owner, who keeps wondering how long he can
run his business as a non-profit organization.
Formerly-comfortable acquaintances have
rented out their house because one of them
lost her job in the currently retrenching
economy. They rented to formerly-comfort
able acquaintances who had to sell their house
because both of them lost their jobs in the
retrenching economy. Both sets talk about “re
stricted cash flow” as though they didn’t mean
that their money was now living as an out-of
wallet experience.
Then there are those of us who carve our
existence out of the grip of employers who
confuse the word “management” with the word
“boss,” believing the latter gives them entitle
ments similar to those the early Romans had in
relation to Christians. In this community, we
non-salaried arc legion. Independent contrac
tors. Small business owners. Consultants. Bro
kers. Advisors. Freelancers. Soul proprietors
who choose independence because we know
that on-staff means eventually co-workers will
want to know with whom you carve your Hal
loween pumpkin. So we go our own way, pre
ferring the exhilaration of living on the edge.
Only now a lot of us arc having a hard time
telling which side of the edge we’re on. Met
any affluent gay or lesbian...oh, say...real es
tate agents lately? Me neither.
But it’s not something we talk about with
each other. It’s way too private. It’s easier to
reveal the true meaning of your bumper stick
ers to strangers than the reality of your dwin
dling bank balance to friends.
Are we worse off lhan any other part of the
population? Maybe. Because you can’t call on
rich relatives (or any other kind) in emergen
cies when they’ve disowned you.
So here’s my thought. It’s modeled after
the Advertising Industry Emergency Fund in
L.A., a highly enlightened and evolved con
cept called “taking care of our own selves.”
It’s a fund created by everybody tossing in
$10 or $20. It’s locally managed and available
to cover small emergencies. Like a new trans
mission and no job. Or a foreclosure hanging
on one more mortgage payment. It’s a little-
things safety net for the most economically
vulnerable. Us. Someplace to turn when a bank
won’t touch you and you’d never consider
food stamps. Or you’ve spent them already.
Not for big emergencies. Other agencies handle
those.
This would be a very private fund where
asking has no stigma. Without a huge commit
tee of blabber-mouth judges equating your per
sonal worth with your net worth. A commu
nity piggy bank where if you need it, you ask.
And if the fund has it, you get it. You agree to
pay it back when you can. And you do. Be
cause you might need it again. Or someone
else might need it. Just that simple. “Family”
helping out “family.”
Now, I have to tell you, 1 don’t have idea
one about the legality of something like this.
Or how to structure it. Or what the tax ramifi
cations arc. Thai’s where you come in. I want
you to think about how you could accomplish
this where you live. Then I want you to do it.
Just that simple,
Because it’s way loo embarrassing to have
someone throw a benefit on your behalf, and
way too scary if they don’t. And because we
ought to have some place we can turn when
there’s no place to turn to. Some place easy,
accessible, non-judgmental, not mired in
unneighborly red tape—and some place that’s
ours.
So do it for me, would you? Don’t write to
ask for my permission. Just put it into place
without all the high drama of being politically
correct. Then let everyone know what works
and what mistakes to avoid. We can learn
from each other, be there for each other and
make a small, safe comer in a world that actu
ally believes “don’t ask, don’t tell” is an ac
ceptable answer to anything.
A gay and lesbian emergency fund. A
Queer National Savings and Loan. Saving each
other by making quick and simple loans. Imag
ine. Why, it could bring a whole new meaning
to “Thank you for sharing.”
LETTERS
P-FLAG wants world to know that it has embraced change
Your editorial of Sept. 30, “Time for Lead
ers to Listen and Embrace Change,” overlooks
the emerging powerhouse in the gay and les
bian movement—P-FLAG, recently re-named
Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and
Gays. We have embraced change. Now we
need the world to realize it. We are no longer
simply a network of 320 plus support groups—
we are everywhere and we are activating.
We have trained 65 grassroots activists in
identifying the “religious” right threat and how
to fight it. Judy Colbs, Atlanta chapter presi
dent, was instrumental in fighting the Cobb
County Commission and helping to organize
the Queer Family Picnic. Candace Steele, re
gional director for the Pacific Northwest,
camped for weeks in KOA campgrounds across
Oregon lobbying for the defeat of Measure 9
and similar “sons of 9.” Terri Bibbens, Tucson
chapter president, has co-founded the Tucson
Human Rights Coalition. Jean Genasci, re
gional director for the Northeast, has testified
at all levels of government and now serves on
the Massachusetts’ governor’s commission on
gay and lesbian youth, aiming to educate soci
ety and youth about gay and lesbian people.
Sandy Moore, regional director of the
Southern region, has formed coalitions with
religious leaders and has held several high
visibility events in her hometown of Ft. Worth,
Texas. Carroll Auslin-Jewitt, Toronto chapter
president, walked into her local school board
and told them, “Our children arc dying, what
are you doing?” Carroll’s actions resulted in a
gay and lesbian youth program titled, “Our
Children Arc Dying.”
Mitzi Henderson, national P-FLAG presi
dent, has traveled across the United Slates and
Europe speaking and inspiring people to gel
involved with P-FLAG’s civil rights and edu
cation programs.
We must pull together and stand up side-
by-side with our families and friends. Too many
parents want to speak out for the equal rights
of their children only to be censored by the
very children they arc fighting for. We need to
realize that heterophobia is as dangerous as
homophobia. We have embraced the change.
It is now time for the community to wake up
and act up with us. Yes, your families and
friends are there for you. Show them that you
will stand with them. We cannot do it alone.
We need time, efforts and financial back
ing of not only the gay, lesbian and bisexual
community but of more of our families and
friends as well. We need volunteers with en
thusiasm and energy. We need people to speak
to schools, call their elected representatives,
demonstrate and protest and, yes, stuff envel
ops. Together we can be more effective. To
gether we can reach out to our own natural
community and beyond.
We need to support one another. We need
to stand strong together. Please, join our
struggle—it’s all about you.
George Neighbors Jr.
Washington D.C
Editor’s note: Neighbors is a public infor
mation officer for P-FLAG.
/HI*/***/
■fc, Ica/w/****
fa Ha*- ^