gregory tonight

Growing up, my mother never approved of my friends. When I was in grade 1, my teacher reported a classmate and I to our parents for being “too close” and holding hands, that we were being suspect for being gay. After the parents-teacher conference, this classmate, whom at the time I thought was my best friend, started distancing himself from me.   When I was in grade 2, there was a father-and-son night. I dreaded it, not because I was afraid of my father, who has always been kind to my siblings and I but because of the conversation my mother had with my father and I about its importance. I remember my mother saying, that because my father was a salesman and always away, I’ve only had female role models: her, my elder sister, my grandmother who lived with us, our household help, and my cousins who were all female. My lack of male role model turned me “soft” and “feminine”—but not gay. My mother was adamant in reminding me that I was not gay. I was just “refined.” I felt bad for my fathe