| SILE SINGLETON
Wow! A month of 2015 has already passed. Who really knew—besides God, hollah!—that I would still be here, still questioning, still challenging the status quo and still practicing my plain old “love your neighbor, as yourself” philosophy? Last month, I was exasperatedly asked why I “get so involved in what’s wrong in the world.” Let me break this down for you.
If my folks had not “jumped that broom,” I would have been treated so differently than what I can attest to actually living through. Or so I like to think. But honestly, I know thinking like that just promotes a fantasy world…one I effortlessly slip into believing and acting out when I don’t remain focused on the relations and personal interactions that I have with flesh and blood.
Get me? This idea that I’m “better off” with two parents is supported by how folks still elevate themselves socially by pointing the finger and making whispered remarks that being born to an unwed mother makes a kid something to be pitied (and by default, not worthy of attention, support and loyalty). You quickly lose status by being the kid of a single parent.
Even today there are still full-fledged bug eyes by much of society over the choice to parent solo. Hell, even the gays look at you like you’re berserk, if you decide to have a kid “alone.” You have to admit in the case of “queers” parenting, the first response is usually WTF? What no more Jingle Balls Party at Axis or First Friday at Wall Street? Are you insane?!
You do see where I’m going, right? I feel blessed. The marriage was one less esteem-damning missile my queer child-self had out-maneuvered. Having two parents has always meant not being labeled as a total nig*3r, whig*3r, wetb*k and/or “piece of white trash.” Sure the remark is crude; it is also the truth. I was not saddled with such a baggage-laden moniker.
That said, I am also a “from-the-womb wholistic Christian.” I’ve always considered energy/aura work, numerology, tarot reading, astrology and the like, while arguably esoteric sciences, valuable in bridging the gaps for me between heaven and earth. So it should be no surprise that I believe, because of my excruciatingly stressful pre-oxygen entrance (imagine eloping while eight months pregnant), that my nearly “rogue birth” has made me naturally hyper-aware of what the rules are, what I am supposed to do.
To be clear, I have no doubt that rules are surprisingly brittle, and are really meant for the particular moment in which they are drawn. When the heart leads the mind on the path of perceived justice, rules are relatively easy to dismiss.
My journey is one of an insistence to be recognized and realized as valuable to society. Naturally this permeates everything I am in and about. Can you hear the backing soundtrack to my life? “Baby, I was born this way!”