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Editorial: One kid's choice

Thu 7 Apr 2005 In: Community View at NDHA

"Homosexuality is a lifestyle choice that he wouldn't want his two young sons to make, says Labour MP John Tamihere..." - GayNZ.com news It was one of those warm late summer evenings that go on forever in Invercargill. Over the fence the neighbouring kids played backyard cricket. Down the end of the street the pipe band finished its drilling in the park. Jessie never tired of retrieving the soggy tennis ball but it had come to rest in Simon's hand so she lay down beside him, occasionally raising a hopeful eye to see if another game was in the offing. It wasn't. Simon was miles away. Bored, alone, sitting on the back steps, he was thinking over a decision, a choice, that would affect his whole life, what everyone he knew thought of him. He tried to break the decision down, to address each issue in his head, weigh up the advantages and disadvantages. As a good sprinter and a useful winger, despite three injuries last season, he commanded a certain respect. But that would go out the window if he chose to be a poof. Poofs got marginalised, teased and often bullied, he knew that. If they were strong they could survive, rise above it. Simon wasn't sure he could be that strong. He'd seen it happen to other kids once rumours got around that they had chosen to be poofs. A few months back one even got smacked up for it. It was a hard choice to make with not much guidance from adults or friends. His dad sneeringly referred to poofs on TV as arse bandits, while his mum just sighed that they seemed quite nice men but it was a shame they had chosen “that lifestyle.” He didn't want to let his folks down by making the wrong choice. He been weighing up the boyfriend/girlfriend part of it for a couple of weeks, watching boys and girls around his own age. He'd never got beyond a few sneaky cuddles with Raylene, or blokey horseplay with boys, so the physical thing was hard to work out. But he'd seen plenty of boy/girl couples holding hands and getting envious glances from others after school. Whereas the only two guys he had ever seen arm in arm was when Mark got a bit concussed after a hard end of season tackle and had been guided arm in arm off the field. Someone in the opposing team had yelled “faggots!” and everyone had laughed. He didn't want to spend his life alone, yet if he chose to be a poof it seemed his options were considerably fewer than if he stayed straight. Amongst all the guys he'd ever met he only knew of two who had obviously chosen to be poofs. There was the tall guy who used to run the music shop in Tay street, but he was long gone. Died of AIDS someone said, which sounded right because he was slightly built and well-dressed and then got sick and everyone knew that being a poof meant you got AIDS and died. The other one who'd chosen to be a poof was his second cousin Eddie. Eddie had been to Lincoln College and for a time lived in central Christchurch and had met all sorts of strange people and, according to Aunty Ivy, had even smoked marijuana there. But Eddie seemed to have changed his mind in his mid twenties and got married. It was a damned shame the marriage broke up when the kids were 3 and 4 and Eddie had gone farm labouring somewhere up in the backblocks near Otautau (Uncle Rob said Eddie had become a bit of a loner) and Barbara was stuck on the DPB with two kids and no new guy wanting to buy into that. Simon reckoned he'd make a good dad so whatever he chose, poofter or straight, he'd stick with it for the rest of his life. The rest of his life. Hmmm. Could he act like a poof for the rest of his life? He'd have to give up sport and Speights. He'd have to buy trendy clothes and learn to flap his hands around and make witty, snappy comments. In the bigger cities up north there were probably night classes for the guys who chose to be poofs. Could you pick it up in a few weeks? Could you do it by corrospondence? Would there be a test at the end? Simon hated sitting tests. And there was the sex to consider. Simon had seen men and women having sex on TV and in the movies. All soft focus and rounded body shapes under the sheets and gentle and loving, though sometimes people bounced around a lot and laughed and had a great time. But two guys doing it was way different... his Balclutha cousins had rented Deliverance a few years ago and they had all hooted and cheered during ‘that' scene. Simon shuddered and threw the tennis ball against the garage wall. Jessie jumped up ready to play. Other guys his age must be ready to make their choice, yet no-one seemed to ever talk about it. Not in his neighbourhood anyway. He'd have to make his choice alone. As the long evening drew to a close Simon joined his folks watching some MP on the news saying that if his sons chose homosexuality he wouldn't like it. Simon could see his point. And yet he was sick of school, tired of South Invercargill, bored. Becoming a poof might at least relieve the year in, year out, boredom of rugby, running, Raylene and rellies. He washed up, brushed his teeth and curled up in the darkness in bed, mind churning. Ten minutes later, alone in the dark, Simon made his choice. Why should he have a boring, dull and predictable life like everyone else. He'd go for it. He'd turn his back on generations of family tradition and damn what his dad or anyone else said. Yeh, for his folks' sake he'd stay straight, but this year he'd switch over to soccer.     Jay Bennie - 7th April 2005

Credit: Jay Bennie

First published: Thursday, 7th April 2005 - 12:00pm

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