Tag: Betsy

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Little Things Mean A Lot by Betsy

Now, let me see. Little things mean a lot. What ever in the world does that mean? It seems to me that if something means a lot, then it follows, does it not, that it is not a little thing, but rather a big thing. I guess it depends on how you evaluate a thing–a happening, an incident. But, to my way of thinking and/or feeling, meaning is what gives a thing its value and importance in life, and if it means a lot, that is, has a lot of meaning it’s big. So far, I can’t make any sense out of this statement “Little Things Mean a Lot.”

So allow me to try to apply the statement to some of the happenings in my life and see then if it rings true.

I like to enjoy a cup of tea every morning soon after rising. Being partnered with and living with a Brit, I am told by said Brit that I cahhn’t make a proper cup of tea. Being American (a Colonial) I simply am innately unable to brew a proper cup of tea and therefore must have my morning tea made for me and served to me. (By the way, I never realized until I met this woman that we Americans had this particular defect.) Well, needless to say, I do not mind one bit being waited upon by the love of my life, so I go along with her on my inherent incapacity and let her do it.

“Your tea is ready, My Darling.” Now some might consider this daily ritual a “little” thing. I suppose it would be if it only happened once or even occasionally. But it becomes a large part of my life when you consider it happens 365 days a year and then for approximately well, say, 20 years of living together. That’s over 7,300 cups of tea! That’s not a little thing. That’s big, monumental, a significant part of my life. And then double it because the scenario is repeated in the late afternoon. That brings it to almost 15,000 cups of tea — no little thing indeed.

Well, I’m still trying to find a kernel of truth in the adage “little things mean a lot.” Maybe I could make the statement apply to an incident that happened only once and a long, long time ago. I can think of two or three incidents actually from my childhood. Insignificant really in terms of their outcomes affecting anyone’s life. But the very fact that I can remember them 60-70 years later makes them significant, I believe. So, the truth is the really little things are no longer in my memory and therefore mean nothing.

Who said “little things mean a lot, anyway,” I ask myself. Well, Kitty Kallen made the song a hit in 1956 or so. But reading the lyrics brings me back to my original conundrum: How can something that means a lot be regarded as little.

“Give me your heart forever and ever. Little things mean a lot.” Oh come on! Turning your heart over to someone for keeps. That doesn’t sound like a little thing to me. Even “Blow me a kiss from across the room” can be the most exciting, main event of the year if you’re attracted to the person. Not a little thing at all. Remember that feeling?
Maybe the author of these lyrics was thinking in terms of the entire universe when she wrote the words. Now I am getting somewhere. I think I can make this work. I get it now. WE humans living in this universe on this speck of dust called Earth are little things and we THINK we mean a lot. Some believe that Earth hosts the only life in the universe and that we humans are the only intelligent life. I don’t happen to believe that, but, surely, those who do believe that consider themselves to be more than little things. I’ve been searching my soul for the answer to that one for a long time and I expect the search will continue until my soul finds its final home.

Searching Google for the lyrics to the song I find myself glancing at an article written about the current presidential campaign. It’s the little things that will effect the final outcome of the 2012 election, says Prof. Steffen Schmit. Now that does mean a lot–I mean the final outcome of the election. It seems that the state of Ohio a swing state which historically always picks the president at election time–Ohio is trying desperately to figure out how to get Mr. Romney elected–that is the Republican legislature is trying to figure this out. It seems Republicans have worked out a system whereby counties which traditionally vote Republican have been given 3 extra early voting days–the weekend before the actual election. Counties that traditionally vote Democrat are not given those extra days to vote early. The Obama campaign feels that the 3 extra days should be given to everyone, not just those who favor his opponent. The little thing of 3 extra days is suddenly becoming a very large issue indeed when you consider that it could make the difference between winning or losing the state; and, as in the 2008 election, the difference between winning or losing the entire election.

I guess I will simply have to conclude that 1. things that mean a lot are not little, rather they are, in my view, BIG. And 2. There are plenty of little things in my life, but they are just that–little, of relative insignificance, and not full of meaning.

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

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Breaking into Gay Culture by Betsy

Not only was I unaware of how or where to break into the gay culture, I was oblivious of the fact that there was a unique culture belonging to the gay community. Moreover, I was unaware that this is something I needed to do for myself when I came out.

One of my very first experiences breaking into the lesbian community was actually at my place of employment. I was working at a non-profit agency at the time and having seen some of the local lesbian literature around I learned that there existed in Denver a Women’s Outdoor Club. I understood that this was a lesbian club and felt it was a group that would appeal to me and be appropriate for me to belong to. I understood that I belonged in such a group in spite of the fact that I was still married, living with my husband, still one child at home, and was definitely “feeling” my way forward into unfamiliar territory (hoping I was moving forward and not backward, but not sure at this point).
I recognized the name of one of the members of the Women’s Outdoor Club as one of agency’s volunteers. I had seen her many times in the office. She knew I was married at the time. The next time I saw her I said to her, “I think I would like to join the Women’s Outdoor Club.” In a hushed tone she replied, “It IS for lesbians.” I said, “Yes, I know, and I qualify.” “Oh,” she said. Come along on our next trip. We’re hiking up in Rocky Mountain National Park.”

The time came for the hike. My husband delivered me to the car pooling meeting place and after the event picked me up. I often think about that day. He knew what I was doing and with whom. There were no secrets. Everything was out in the open. I think he was hoping I would get a taste of the new culture and find that I didn’t fit or didn’t like it. His hopes did not come to fruition. I do not and at the time did not think of this experience as “breaking into” a culture or a group. The reality was that I was doing an activity (hiking) with a number of female nature-loving hikers. This was really nothing terribly new. The difference was there were no men in the group–husbands or otherwise, nor were we a group of women hiking together while chatting about our respective husbands or male companions.

Another introduction to the culture was a visit to the Three Sisters Bar. The place seemed rather “seedy” to me–dark and almost sinister. I had no idea who the women were who were there or what they looked like. It was far too dark to see anything. Seeing the women together was quite exciting actually. I cannot remember how I got there or with whom either. Just that it was the place to go at night.

During my coming out process I learned about a group for married women or women who had been married who were coming out or considering coming out, were gay, or bisexual or thought they were gay. The group was organized and facilitated by a woman in the community who had travelled the same route more or less; that is, she, too, had been married, raised a family, and came out later in life. Perfect, I thought. That’s for me. And it was just what I needed.

One of the meetings included a tour of the then existing women’s bars. We started with our usual support group discussion and following that left the meeting place to visit the bars. This was extremely helpful to me as I had no prior knowledge of any of these places except the Sisters. It turns out there were three or four bars and they were all quite enjoyable when one was comfortably entrenched in a group and not scared to death. I will always be grateful to my mentor and leader for her support group.

Prior to that experience and meeting many other women of my age group, I seriously thought I was unique in that I was married, had been married for a long time, and now, later in life was coming out, changing my life-style completely. But I found that to be untrue as there were many other women just like me.

In those days The Center sponsored a support group for women coming out. All extremely helpful and made the coming out process much less difficult.

I suspect the gay culture is more discernible, more definable, and takes on more importance for those individuals, gay men or lesbians, who are seeking partners, either consciously or unconsciously.

I have to say that after 30 years or so in the lesbian community and almost 30 years in a stable same-sex relationship, I do not feel that there is an identifiable lesbian culture per se. Maybe among some women there is, but to me it feels more like a women’s culture, free from the constraints, real or imagined, imposed by the presence of straight men. There are plenty of straight women who partake of activities for women alone–free of the influence, direction, or guidance of the straight men to whom they are attached. By the same token by sharing a common sexual identity most lesbians tend to relate to each other more comfortably than with straight women perhaps. In my view this does not reflect a lesbian culture, rather women’s culture. Some of my best friends are straight women. Our bonding is more around our common values and our womanhood. I believe this is true in the lesbian community as well.

About the Author 

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

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Cities of My Heart by Betsy

Denver is where my heart is. That’s because the love of my life lives here–with me. I love Denver and Colorado. I have been living quite happily here since 1970. This is where I came out. This is where I met the love of my life. I have many friends here both straight and LGBT. My three children grew up here and call Denver their heart home. There is much to be said about Denver but not here and not today. So…….

Since my three children have a place in my heart also, I suppose I can say at least part of my heart is in those cities where they reside.

Decatur, Georgia is a small city completely surrounded by the city of Atlanta. From my several visits there it appears that Decatur is young, relatively progressive, and gay friendly. This is where my oldest child, a daughter, lives. This daughter is a professor on the faculty at Emory University where she teaches in the Women and Gender Studies Department. Lynne has been in academics for about 20 years. In that time I have learned that her community of friends and associates is not usually representative of the area in which she resides. I learned from her partner Tamara that The Women Studies Department of Emory University is the oldest (and best) in the United States. Who would have guessed that this, one of the most conservative states and cities of the country is the original home of such a progressive subject as Women Studies. Suffice it to say that academic communities bear no resemblance to the states or regions where they are located.

Before moving to the Atlanta area around 2005 Lynne and Tamara lived in Houston, Texas–another conservative hot spot. I imagined a very difficult time for the couple when I heard in 1998 they were moving from New Haven to Houston. Never mind a lesbian couple living together in Texas, but an interracial lesbian couple. However, I was surprised to learn from my visits there that Houston is in fact a fairly cosmopolitan city–at least for Texas. Even though Lynne was teaching at Rice University, my view of Houston was not distorted by association only with the academic community. Tamara started out working as campaign manager for a city council candidate bent on ousting an incumbent. Lynne was of course somewhat involved in the campaign as well. The incumbent opponent was well entrenched, so the campaign would be hard fought. In the end the campaign was successful, Tamara’s candidate was elected to the city council, and Tamara became her Chief of Staff. Needless to say, the scenes and experiences we heard about during this time gave a very realistic, true vision of the city of Houston as opposed to the college professor’s perspective. We saw a liberal candidate oust a well entrenched conservative. But that was not the only surprise. During their stay in Houston, we saw many other unexpected changes. At the present time the mayor of Houston is a lesbian woman–a former acquaintance of Lynne and Tamara’s. I was pleasantly surprised that Houston was so good to my daughter and her partner.

My second oldest child, a daughter, lives in Baltimore. The nation’s economic problems have badly effected Baltimore–by appearances, much more so than Denver. However, Baltimore has always had a large population of struggling workers.

On one recent visit we found ourselves in the very worst neighborhood of the city. Gill and I were traveling in our camper van from Denver to the east coast with a planned stop in Baltimore to spend a few days there with my daughter Beth.

Beth works in the area of artificial intelligence. Currently she is working for NASA’s Atmospheric Science Data Center. She is a logician and applies her knowledge and expertise as such in her job developing ways to access past meteorological data.

In giving us directions to her home in Baltimore she did NOT apply her knowledge and expertise as a logician. Approaching her area of Baltimore, and carefully following the directions she had sent via e-mail, at a crucial point we made the turn to the left as instructed. Within two minutes we found ourselves in a very seedy neighborhood. Realizing surely something was wrong we pulled over to get out the cell phone. We needed to turn on lights as it was dark. Some unsavory looking characters gave us the once over and approached the van whereupon we locked all the doors and windows. No, we were not in the right neighborhood. We were supposed to turn right back there, not left, Beth admitted. In another five minutes we were in the correct neighborhood of Patterson Park. Not a swanky place, mind you. A very middle class, working person’s neighborhood in transition where we felt ever so much more comfortable and safe.

Beth now works from home and could live anywhere she wants, but chooses to stay in her neighborhood in Baltimore close to her D.C. contacts.

By the way, have you ever driven on the D.C. beltway? One of the most terrifying experiences of my life.

My youngest, a son, lives in Fairbanks, Alaska. Often I hear friends and acquaintances say, “Oh, yes, I’ve been to Alaska.” Almost inevitably it turns out they have been to Anchorage or the coastal area or perhaps Denali National Park. Fairbanks is not typically a tourist destination. I have only been to Fairbanks twice and those visits were in the summertime. It is not an easy place to get to even by plane.

My son John started his practice as a urologist in Fairbanks. Instant success as there are but four urologists in the entire state. Three of them practice in Anchorage.

The city of Fairbanks sits in the interior region of the state. Googling the list of rivers in Alaska did not help when trying to recall the name of the river that flows through the city. There are 9728 rivers in Alaska. Other methods of investigation including my failing memory yielded the name: The Chena River.

A drive from Fairbanks to the nearest city Anchorage is a day’s drive on a highway running mostly beside the rail route of The Alaska Railway. This rail system boasts punctuality and comfort. The dome-topped train offers incredible scenery on its route from Fairbanks to Anchorage with a stop at Denali National Park, home of Mt. McKinley, and fist-clenching run along the edge of the spectacular gorge carved by the Talkeetna River to mention only two of the numerous, magnificent, unforgettable, and interesting sights.

Further on about an hour out of Anchorage the train stops at Wassilla–Sara Palin’s home.

On my first visit to Fairbanks John rented an RV and off to Denali the five of us went–three adults and my two very young grandchildren. Our three day visit was memorable to say the least. Denali is a place of indescribable pristine beauty and awesome vastness.

Anyone wishing to travel east out of Fairbanks will be disappointed. If one travels in any direction other than south to Juneau, southwest to Anchorage, or north to Prudhoe Bay, one is liable to run out of highway. The roads simply stop. Beyond is wilderness. Of course the lumbering and mining operations abound in that state, but the place is so vast it appears to be endless and untouched. It is not hard to understand why half of the population are licensed pilots. Many people live in areas accessible only by plane. Many of these people live on islands off the coast.

Fairbanks is a growing city, currently at around 35,000 residents. Seemingly unaffected by the economic disasters taking place in the rest of the country, jobs are available. Students with a taste for adventure and perhaps the promise of a summer job are drawn to the University of Alaska’s Fairbanks campus.

I have not been to Alaska in the winter. When I checked the January 14 weather report, the expected high for the week was -32 with fog and mist resulting in a “feels like” temperature of -47. Does it really matter which it feels like: -47 or -32?

I do know that in the winter months many Alaskans–the more fortunate ones–fly to Hawaii where they spend a couple of weeks. A veritable exodus takes place in the dead of winter when those Alaskans who can afford it decide it is time for a good dose of sunlight and it’s mood-enhancing effects.

Here is a place where much attention is still given to the magic of the winter solstice. After December 21 it can only get better.

Atlanta, Baltimore, Fairbanks–wonderful places to visit. But I’m glad I live in Denver.


© 14 January 2012 




About the Author 


Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

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Depravity by Betsy

We have heard (from others) that  common usage of the word depravity refers to
morally corrupt behavior; even though it 
be behavior  as viewed by some
offended individuals who choose to judge. Do we queers have a monopoly on
depravity?  I don’t think so.  If we are referring to morally corrupt
behavior regardless of who is doing the judging, and if we take the concept a
step further, I suggest that a state of collective depravity exists throughout
the land.
Consider the lack of compassion present
in our world today.   Take the US for
example, which in recent memory actually was the wealthiest nation on
earth.  There is enough wealth in this
country to go around.  Yet, in this land
of plenty today many people are suffering. 
It is estimated that one out of 5 children lives in poverty and 1/2
million children are homeless. Today the bottom 50% of Americans control just
2.5% of the entire nation’s wealth. 
It seems that some–not all, but
some–who have wealth feel compelled to promote a system of government whereby
that wealth stays in the hands of the wealthy only.  What is that if not moral corruption, that
is, depravity–call it group depravity. 
Those who have not are on their own, must fend for themselves, and in
the end must always be struggling and must stay in their current level of
income or their current level of deprivation so that a few may have more than
anyone ever needs, more than they even know they have.   There is a fear on the part of some that, if
the government mandates that we take care of those in need, the wealth will
become so diluted that NO ONE will be wealthy.  
In my opinion those people have lost sight of the real meaning of the
concept of wealth; namely life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, and they
have lost their compassion.  The result
is rampant depravity.  That’s right!  Moral corruption is alive and well in the
U.S. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours is the order of the day for
many–not all–of our law makers and other leaders. It is no secret that there
often are millions even billions of dollars involved in those back scratching
deals.  It seems that some of our leaders
have lost sight of what’s good for the country; or, their vision has become
skewed.
So let’s look at wealth as something
other than millions or billions of dollars. 
Life is full of riches.  Let me
name just a few: loved ones, family, friends, a quiet walk in the woods, a
brilliant, glorious sunset or sunrise, the mountains, a beautiful work of art,
the list goes on and on endlessly.  One
can enjoy all of these riches. EVERYONE can enjoy all or at least some of these
riches IF, and only if, they know that their basic needs will be met–food on
the table, a roof over their head, basic health care, education.  The resources exist for those needs to be met
for everyone in this country.  But our
societal depravity is a block against even considering reaching this Utopian
concept.  Societally and governmentally
our collective eyes are closed even to the concept.
What really is the fear when it comes to
promoting a better distribution of wealth?  
Loss of power over others? 
Maybe.  One needs only to take a
fleeting glance at history to discover that, the wealthy taking more and more
power leads to revolution.  In the end
the people have the power.  Power to the
people. Isn’t that what our Democracy is supposed to be about? And I thought we
gave up the notion of Social Darwinism –survival of the fittest–over a
century ago.  Yet, in spite of all this,
we seem to be going in the wrong direction. 
Those who have a fear of spreading the
resources around so that everyone has his or her basic needs met–those who
have that fear, in my opinion, are entirely focused on their fear.  The result is rampant greed.  Perhaps it’s time for all people to look into
our individual and collective hearts and focus on what we see there, or figure
out what is absent there.  It seems to me
that compassion and a basic love and respect for humanity is missing in some
individuals, but certainly in the collective psyche–I believe that these
qualities, that is, compassion and love, exist in all human beings.  But so does depravity.
Can we not create a system to make it
possible for all people to meet their basic needs on their own as most people
want to do; and for those unable to do so share the resources so that they are
cared for as well?   And yes, some who
are fortunate, enterprising, smarter, harder working, or just plain lucky can
have more than others and enjoy their wealth, but not to the point that those
with less are wiped out?  I do believe
that, globally, humankind can find a way to do this.  I certainly hope so.  Am I an optimist, or what?  Oh well, better an optimist than being
totally lost to depravity.

© 5 December 2011 


About the Author 



Betsy has been active in the GLBT community
including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for
Change).  She has been retired from the
Human Services field for about 15 years. 
Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping,
traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports
Center for the Disabled, and learning.  Betsy
came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship
with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren.  Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful
enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian
Edwards.
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To Be Held by Betsy

When I was an infant, the scientists–physicians and psychologists–who knew everything there was to know about mothering, all proclaimed that holding your baby too much was not a good thing. The consequences of this seemingly natural human behavior was, in fact, risky. Babies could grow up expecting to be held all the time. They would become dependent on being held, they would become “spoiled.” Also at the time cow’s milk or cow-milk-based formula created by humans and promoted by the forces of capitalism, was better for a human baby than human milk which was, after all, only poor mother nature’s formula for what is best for a newborn.

Years later when I became a mother the same thinking was prevalent–except for the milk ideas. There had sprung up in recent years a group of rebel mothers called Le Leche League. The group promoted breast feeding among new moms. They had a book which described the benefits of not only the milk, but also the process of delivering the milk, not the least of which was to hold your baby close while feeding him. They held the notion that there is a reason the female human body is configured as it is. That properly and naturally feeding your baby required holding him close.

I actually heard many mothers at the time say “The problem is that if you breast feed your baby, you will become completely tied down to him/her.” When I told my doctor husband this, he had the perfect answer. “Well, a mother SHOULD be tied down to her baby. That is how a baby survives and thrives.”

My oldest child did not have the benefits of breast milk for very long. The pediatrician instructed me, a very insecure novice mom, to begin supplementing the breast milk with formula after two months or so. Why? Well, baby needs more milk and it was believed baby could not get enough milk from its mother alone. I soon learned that once you start the process of bottle feeding, baby learns really fast. It’s much easier for her to suck milk from a bottle than from a breast. It flows much, much faster out of a bottle and, well, they don’t have to work so hard to get it. Then, of course, they don’t want the breast milk, demand for the rich liquid plummets, and the milk-making machine quickly becomes non-productive.

I later learned that breast milk is the best, there is plenty of it as supply usually meets with demand, and it works perfectly for about one year, longer if one wishes, and if the feeding is supplemented with a source of iron.

Actually, in a society driven by corporate profits the truth is the main problem with breast feeding in that the milk is free, so long as the mother is properly nourished and hydrated. No one is buying anything. No one benefits monetarily from that method of feeding, no one except baby and mother. No corporate profit is to be made. Baby and mother alone benefit.

It seems that to be held IS important–not just for babies but for children and adults as well. Being held promotes healing, comfort, security, well being of all kinds. It is hard to imagine how it ever came to be regarded as detrimental. Yet the notion continues in some minds.

One of the first complete sentences my oldest child ever uttered was, “I want to behold.”

Of course when we first heard this we asked, “behold–behold what? A star in the East.

What do you mean, “I want to behold? Oohh! You need comforting and reassurance. You want to be held.” we said, realizing that our brilliant three year old was not familiar with the passive form of the verb to hold.

Holding in a loving way and being held is loving behavior. What adult does not want to hold a kitten or puppy immediately when he or she see it. I think holding each other as an expression of love is something we learn or at least become comfortable with early in life. I think we could use more of it in this troubled world of ours. I’m all for it.

Denver 2013

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

Posted on

Breaking into Gay Culture by Betsy

Not only was I unaware of how or where to break into the gay culture, I was oblivious of the fact that there was a unique culture belonging to the gay community. Moreover, I was unaware that this is something I needed to do for myself when I came out.

One of my very first experiences breaking into the lesbian community was actually at my place of employment. I was working at a non-profit agency at the time and having seen some of the local lesbian literature around I learned that there existed in Denver a Women’s Outdoor Club. I understood that this was a lesbian club and felt it was a group that would appeal to me and be appropriate for me to belong to. I understood that I belonged in such a group in spite of the fact that I was still married, living with my husband, still one child at home, and was definitely “feeling” my way forward into unfamiliar territory (hoping I was moving forward and not backward, but not sure at this point).

I recognized the name of one of the members of the Women’s Outdoor Club as one of agency’s volunteers. I had seen her many times in the office. She knew I was married at the time. The next time I saw her I said to her, “I think I would like to join the Women’s Outdoor Club.”

In a hushed tone she replied, “It IS for lesbians.”

I said, “Yes, I know, and I qualify.”

“Oh,” she said. Come along on our next trip. We’re hiking up in Rocky Mountain National Park.”

The time came for the hike. My husband delivered me to the car pooling meeting place and after the event picked me up. I often think about that day. He knew what I was doing and with whom. There were no secrets. Everything was out in the open. I think he was hoping I would get a taste of the new culture and find that I didn’t fit or didn’t like it. His hopes did not come to fruition. I do not and at the time did not think of this experience as “breaking into” a culture or a group. The reality was that I was doing an activity (hiking) with a number of female nature-loving hikers. This was really nothing terribly new. The difference was there were no men in the group–husbands or otherwise, nor were we a group of women hiking together while chatting about our respective husbands or male companions.

Another introduction to the culture was a visit to the Three Sisters Bar. The place seemed rather “seedy” to me–dark and almost sinister. I had no idea who the women were who were there or what they looked like. It was far too dark to see anything. Seeing the women together was quite exciting actually. I cannot remember how I got there or with whom either. Just that it was the place to go at night.

During my coming out process I learned about a group for married women or women who had been married who were coming out or considering coming out, were gay, or bisexual or thought they were gay. The group was organized and facilitated by a woman in the community who had travelled the same route more or less; that is, she, too, had been married, raised a family, and came out later in life. Perfect, I thought. That’s for me. And it was just what I needed.

One of the meetings included a tour of the then existing women’s bars. We started with our usual support group discussion and following that left the meeting place to visit the bars. This was extremely helpful to me as I had no prior knowledge of any of these places except the Sisters. It turns out there were three or four bars and they were all quite enjoyable when one was comfortably entrenched in a group and not scared to death. I will always be grateful to my mentor and leader for her support group.

Prior to that experience and meeting many other women of my age group, I seriously thought I was unique in that I was married, had been married for a long time, and now, later in life was coming out, changing my life-style completely. But I found that to be untrue as there were many other women just like me.

In those days the Center sponsored a support group for women coming out. All extremely helpful and made the coming out process much less difficult.

I suspect the gay culture is more discernible, more definable, and takes on more importance for those individuals, gay men or lesbians, who are seeking partners, either consciously or unconsciously.

I have to say that after 30 years or so in the lesbian community and almost 30 years in a stable same-sex relationship, I do not feel that there is an identifiable lesbian culture per se. Maybe among some women there is, but to me it feels more like a women’s culture, free from the constraints, real or imagined, imposed by the presence of straight men. There are plenty of straight women who partake of activities for women alone–free of the influence, direction, or guidance of the straight men to whom they are attached. By the same token by sharing a common sexual identity most lesbians tend to relate to each other more comfortably than with straight women perhaps. In my view this does not reflect a lesbian culture, rather women’s culture. Some of my best friends are straight women. Our bonding is more around our common values and our womanhood. I believe this is true in the lesbian community as well.

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

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The Interview by Betsy

“So, Betsy, what makes you think that
your soul should be allowed to move forward and take residence in a higher
creature, a creature better than yourself?”
“The application for elevation of my
soul that you sent me says I must demonstrate that I have made a supreme effort
to be honest, trustworthy, loving to my partner and family and friends, and
sensitive to the feelings of others.   It
may have taken me a lifetime, but I am quite confident I have done this and that
I qualify for elevation.   And the effort
has continued throughout my life.  I try
to be loving to people I am close to. 
Sometimes I do get wrapped up in my own activities and I forget to be
considerate to my partner, but mostly I am loving and I do try. 
“I have been conscientious about following
the rules.  Actually, I did follow the
rules early in life.  I suppose they were
my parent’s rules; but when I became an adult I realized the rules were
different depending on who made them.  I
mean, I was married to a man because I heard that marriage is only between a
man and a woman.  But then, I learned
that that rule wasn’t the truth.  And I
tried to follow the guidance of my soul. 
Yes, I did have to hurt the man I married, but he got over it and is
better off for it now.  The important
thing is it was not my intention to hurt him. 
“I’ve always tried to be as honest as I
possibly can.  Yes, I know. I Iied to my
parents about eating the candy before dinner and well, yes, I know, about
having to be sent to the cloakroom that time in the third grade, and about not
doing my homework, but that was just once; and that was before I understood
that I have a soul and that I have an ego that can lead me astray when I am not
paying attention.  And punishment is so
hard on my ego.
“The application also says I must show
that I have made a positive contribution to society during my lifetime.  I bore and raised three children. I am rather
counting on them to make significant contributions to the world. They are smarter
than I, and they work hard.” 
“Well, Betsy, I do believe we can put
you on the short list, but the committee will have to make the final
consideration as to the direction your soul will take.  In the meantime, we recommend you do your
best to follow the straight and narrow. Actually, in your case forget the
straight, but keep that ego in check. 
After all, it’s only an ego.  It
has nothing really to do with your soul. 
You wouldn’t want to sabotage your soul for all time just for the sake
of your silly ego which is a temporary thing. 
Remember, you still have a bit of road to travel before the final
judgement is made.  We’ll get back to you
then.”
©
16 July 2012

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

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Queer, Just How Queer by Betsy

Imagine that we could measure an individual’s degree of sexual orientation by taking, say, a blood test. This would be an ugly world indeed with a rigid caste system. The most heterosexual would be on top and the most homosexual on the bottom.

Newborns would be immediately tested at birth. Here’s one scenario.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. You have a healthy baby boy measuring only two on the “queerometer” He will be your pride and joy.

Or the dreaded scenario:

“You have a healthy baby boy, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. He has 10 fingers and 10 toes and all his parts. I’m sorry to tell you that he tests positive on the queerometer. He’s a 9.6”

“Oh, says Mrs. Jones, gasping for breath. A 9.6 ! Does that mean, does that mean? “

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” says the attendant. At the age of eight years you will be required to turn him over to the Department of Corrections. He will be yours until then. Enjoy!”

Or the following close-call:

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. You have a beautiful baby girl. She appears to be in perfect health and all her parts are in the right place.” However, she does measure a five on the queerometer, which, as you know, is high. The state will provide you with all the materials you need to guide her in the right direction. If you use the manual wisely and stick to it, she will turn out just fine and I’m sure she will live a normal life and give you many grandchildren.”

Or imagine a world in which LGBT people took on a particular hue at puberty. Say, a shade of purple. The really dark purple ones would be the really, really, queer ones, and the light violets would be only slightly inclined to be homosexual or transgender, or bisexual, or queer. I can see the pride parade right now. A massive multi-shaded purple blob oozing down Colfax.

Parents who suspected queerness would dread the day puberty started for their child. Of course, in this world everyone starts out with lily white skin. So the outward signs of race and ethnicity would not exist. In this world their would be no race and ethnicity. Only sexual orientation has meaning.

Of course, in the real world there is no such thing as a queerometer or purple-skinned LGBT’s. The world we know is so very much more complex than that.

In our world we have a choice. Not a choice of whether or not to be queer, but rather we choose to be in or out of the closet, we can choose to accept or deny our queerness, we choose our behaviors every minute of every day. A great raising of awareness over the last few decades has given us even more choices. At least, this is true for the most part in this community that we know so well and in most cities of this country. As acceptance becomes more and more prevalent I am very thankful, indeed. I am thankful everyday, that I have been free to choose to live my queerness with honesty and integrity and pride.

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

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Lottery by Betsy

If it is the Colorado Lottery we are referring to here, then it is highly unlikely that I will ever win, since I do not play. I gave up playing that lottery after giving away about one hundred dollars in five dollar increments with zero return and asked myself the profound question: “Why am I doing this?” There are better investments for even one hundred dollars which do not require that I give away ALL my capital.

Don’t get me wrong. I do benefit everyday from the Colorado Lottery. We all do. I especially enjoy the bicycle paths and parks and other amenities immensely.

Of the $2.3 billion utilized by the state since the start of the lottery in 1983, 50% has gone to the Great Outdoors Trust Fund, 40% to the Conservation Trust Fund, and 10% to the Colorado Division of Parks and Wildlife.

Here are a few winners which we all benefit from due to the Colorado Lottery.

Close to 1000 miles of hiking and biking trails built and maintained all over the state.

Open space and land acquisition. Development and maintenance for city, county, and state parks and recreation facilities.

Funding for school health and safety issues.

If we are talking about other lotteries in life–or the lottery of life, truth be told, I have won many times indeed. I had the winning ticket when I was born to the parents that I had. I won when I married Bill instead of Jim or Al. I had a winning ticket when I got my daughter back. I won when I chose to come out. I could go on and on describing the lucky things that have happened to me over my lifetime. Yes, some involved making a good choice. Like, the winningest lottery ticket of my entire life: when I cashed in and got Gill. But face it. Much of life is a crap-shoot. This was very clear to me recently when I chose to have my spine go under the knife.
“There is a 20% chance you will be worse off after surgery. There is a 1% chance of severe damage to nerves, paralysis, or even death,” I was told. True, the odds were on my side but the chance for disaster is always there.

If I win the lottery? If it’s the Colorado Lottery–I won’t. The Life Lottery–I have won, and I do win–most of the time–and I hope to continue my run of good luck.

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

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Coping With Loved Ones by Betsy

Coping: dealing effectively with something (or someone) that is difficult.

I recently visited with some family members whom I have not seen for many years.They live in the deep south and I knew they were politically conservative. So, shall we say, I was not about to flaunt my sexual orientation in their presence. I never have felt comfortable talking with them about the subject nor have I ever felt I had a compelling reason to talk about it. They knew I was divorced. I thought that was as far as it went.

I was blown away on this recent occasion when my deceased brother’s family–his wife and adult children–asked me about my partner. I was astounded by the inquiry. Gill, my partner, was not with me on this my second visit since I came out in the 1980s. It turns out these family members are quite accepting. I later learned perhaps that is because they had already encountered issues around the sexual orientation of their own children or grandchildren. I was braced to deal with a difficult situation, but instead found myself surrounded by people not only willing to listen, but interested in my life and the love of my life. Such a relief. I hate being closeted.

I often wonder if there is any significance to the fact that I came out soon after my father’s death in the late 1970s. Was I waiting until both my parents were gone? My mother died in 1957. Coming out then was unthinkable. I wasn’t even out to myself, trying ever so hard to be straight, and pretending rather successfully. I even had myself convinced, at least, at some level that maybe I was straight. My father lived until the late ‘70s. So in 1980 when I started coming out I had no fear of rejection from either my mother or my father. Is this how I coped with the situation involving these loved ones? Sad when you think about it. They, my parents, never knew who I really was. Was that because I chose not to deal with that difficult situation? Did I feel free to come out once they were gone? It’s probably not that simple.

Had they both been alive when I came out, I don’t think they would have rejected me. After all, I was their child, but not A child. I was in my forties, almost 50 years old. I think they would have gathered the information they needed to understand.

Ultimately they most certainly would have come around.

I timed my coming out to my sister, so that she would not be able to say a word after I made the shocking disclosure. Yes, this was how I coped with this difficult situation; namely, coming out to this loved one. We had been together for a few days and the time came for her to go home. We are at the airport at her gate. Her plane is boarding (this was before the high security days). “Last call for flight 6348 to Birmingham,” blared the public address speaker. We hug. “Oh, I do have something important to tell you, Marcy. I’m gay.” I said, as she is about to enter the jetway. “Let’s talk soon,” as I wave goodbye. I’m thinking,”Maybe she didn’t even hear me above all the noise.” So much for dealing effectively with that difficult and awkward moment.

As I write this I realize where the problem was in these situations. Not with the loved ones themselves, not even with the threat that they might reject me or overreact. Rather with my feelings of acceptance of myself, ME, and my willingness to risk and yes, to cope with my fears of rejection, my fear of threats of reprisal, my fear that I would be an outcast from the family. Call it insecurity. However when you care about your loved ones, the fears are very real and can be very powerful indeed.

I did cope with these feelings for quite a long time before I was able to accept emotionally that I had done nothing wrong and I had simply to acknowledge who I am and that I love and care about myself enough to honor my need to live honestly and freely without guilt or shame, and to be free to make the choices that would make me a complete person. Once I started dealing effectively with my own feelings of doubt, and self-deprecation, the problem of coping with others disappeared.

Lucille Ball once said: “Love yourself and everything else falls into line.”

I have yet to come across any family member who rejects me because of my sexual orientation. Moreover, if that ever happens, I know I do not have to cope with them. Rather they will have to cope with me.

© 15 October 2012

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.