Yes I Can!!
Tom Froehlich
So it’s New Years Eve
and I’m not really too big on that resolution thing. At this
point in my life I have quit drinking, stopped smoking and lost more than
enough weight. I have been on weight watchers, the Scarsdale diet, that cabbage
soup fiasco and my own personal triumph, skip dinner and drink margaritas until
you pass out diet. Eating cheeseburgers and pizza to cure the hangover kind of
undermined that weight loss program. Pending alcoholism was a bit of a hitch in
that giddy-up as well. All told I have most likely lost and gained back more
than 5000 pounds in the past fifty-five years so there are no plans to latch
onto the latest fad diet as the ball drops in Times Square at midnight.
So no, I’m not really
too big on the resolution thing, but I do believe in chasing dreams. And I think that for our dreams to be
realized we need to put ourselves out there. We need to say, “Hey! Here I am
and I’m ready! Bring it!!” So I am.
Fonde’. That’s
F-O-N-D-E accent mark. Fonde’ is a friend of mine from Milwaukee. Fonde’ Patrice Bridges. He is my brown angel. You see, Fonde’ hated
the color of his own skin when he was growing up. He was the blackest kid in
the neighborhood and he tried to scrub the brown away. It didn’t work. I grew
up gay. Still am. Unfortunately a bar of soap doesn’t do much for that either.
I refer to us as the twin sons of different mothers. We may have had different
backgrounds, but we share similar pain.
Remember the movie “The Swiss Family Robinson”? The original one? It came out when I was about five years
old. I remember liking the older
brother Lars, the one with the curly blonde hair… a lot. And I knew I was
different. Different in a way that meant I shouldn’t tell anyone.
I didn’t know what gay was. Hell, I was five. Hell, I really don’t think
anyone my small Wisconsin town in 1963 new what gay was. But, I remember my
parents talking about a guy names Ralph Saunders. He was the kind of guy who hung
out at malls looking for little boys. I’m not sure if it was true. Hell, we
didn’t even have a mall. I guess it was a metaphor. And if it was true someone
should have done something about Ralph, don’t you think? But, what I do know,
is that is what the people in my small town in Wisconsin thought gay people
were in 1963.
When I finally understood what gay was and new I fit into that category
I was about 12 years old. I remember lying in bed and I can still smell the
dusty carpet of my attic bedroom and remember the sun streaming in the bank of
three windows. A place where most would have felt safe and protected yet I
didn’t. How can parents protect a child when they don’t truly know who he is?
And would they still choose keep him safe him if they did? These are the
thoughts that go through the mind of a gay twelve year old. You can trust me on
that. I know, because I was that child. And I thought, ‘Please, please, please,
let this make sense one day. Why would you have me born into this family in a
small town, in this part of the country and make me this?!’ I thought maybe it
was because that one-day I was suppose to open up my family’s eyes and minds to
people who were different from them. I had no idea how I could ever make that
happen, but that was the only reason I could think of that something this awful
could have happened to me. “Plan B” was to get a hold of my college fund and see
a shrink who could change me into normal person. I wasn’t really sure how that
one was going to work out either but it was all I had. I was 12, what do you
want?
I was a good student and had some talent, but I tried not to let it
show. I didn’t want to stand out for fear someone would yell faggot at an
inopportune moment, which frankly was any moment and humiliate me in front of
my friends or even worse my parents. Because you see, it had happened. While
walking through the library or waiting for the school bus or walking the
hallways at school. I just could not bare the thought of that happening in
front of my parents.
In 8th grade I was receiving an award at the end of the year
assembly for being the best foreign language student. The most advanced student in ten years. I didn’t tell my
parents because I was afraid they would come to the assembly. I was afraid they
would come and someone would yell faggot or homo as I walked across the stage.
I just could not bare that. I will
always remember the great relief I had after having crossed the stage with no
incident. That became my reward.
I won entry into a juried art show when I was a sophomore in high
school. A show that was made up mostly of Juniors and Seniors. I was pleased
and proud, but I told no one. I didn’t want them coming to the opening.
I spent my teenage years and much of my early adulthood trying to excel
in the shadows. I stayed in the shadows because you see I never really felt
like I deserved the awards or trophies or recognition anyway. Because I was
flawed. I was second best. I wasn’t someone you should revere or approve of. The
saddest part of all is that I actually believed this.
And then in my early thirties I finally came out to my family and the
world. The funny thing is, is that now I’m one of the favorites in my family.
And because of that, everything is supposed to be okay.
It's funny how people
think everything is okay once you come out. They say, "We're all cool with
it, so let's just move on, okay?!" Seldom do they take the time to look at
the damage already done. Not a day passes that I don't struggle with or process
something that is a result of repressing and loathing who I was for too many
years. It would just be nice if people would take the time to listen when we
say, "No. Really. I'm not okay. I want to be, but I'm not." Please take
the time to listen to someone you love.
Recently I received an
email from my friend Fonde’. He sent me the address for the website for
LIVEOUTLOUD, an organization who talks to high school and college students
about being gay and it’s challenges and getting past that to leading happy and
fulfilling lives. On the application they asked one question. “If you are
chosen what would you tell them and why?”
With out a moment’s
hesitation or forethought I wrote, “I would speak on
the importance of celebrating everything that we are. Of holding nothing back.
Of giving everything we can to become the best ‘me’ we can be. I would speak of
loving ourselves enough to be courageous enough to stand out in a crowd and not
shrink back fearing someone will shout out the word faggot or homo or dyke. I
would encourage them to not allow those verbal assaults to stop them from
realizing their dreams. I would speak of how the fear of my being who I am lead
me to alcohol as the only way to cope with the feelings I had forced down
inside of me. The fear and the anger and the hurt. The feeling that I was
somehow inherently flawed. The certainty that I would always come in second
best. And I would talk about how I climbed out of that dark and terrifying
place and learned that no matter what our sexuality or race or religion we all
deserve to realize our dreams. That all we need to do is step forward and say,
‘Yes I can!’
I would talk about how life is a journey of self-discovery and how we
need to do our best to see the beauty in ourselves and everything and everyone
around us. But, mostly I would talk about love. I would talk about learning to
love and celebrate everything that we are. To love it so much that the love
overflows into the lives of others and changes them and helps them become the best
‘me’ that they can be.
I would tell them of my friend Arturo. He was a young man I worked with
who was from the barrio. Arturo is former gang member. After working together for a couple of
months he walked up to me and said, ‘Tommy, I owe you an apology. When I found
out that you are gay, I told our boss I didn’t want to work with you. He told
me I had no choice. And now you are my favorite person to work with. I smile
every time I see you walk in the door. You are my friend.’ A tear rolled down
his cheek as he opened his arms and said, ‘I’m so sorry. I was wrong, but I
never knew gay people before. I love you man. Can I have a hug?’ And we did.
Hug that is. And I felt all of the differences between us melt away. He is my
friend, Arturo. And for the briefest moment I wondered if perhaps I had judged
Arturo for where he came from rather than the man of integrity I learned he is.
Because you see I am flawed. Not because of my sexuality, but because I am
human and I make mistakes. And it is only when we stop judging
others that we can begin to stop judging ourselves. Because we do.
I would tell them
this story because I want them to understand that we cannot judge others by the
color of their skin or their socio-economic status or their sexuality. And I
want them to understand that laws don’t change the way people think. People do.
And by becoming the best “me” that we can be, we can be that change.
And I would encourage them to be the love and the joy and the magic that
they are looking for in life. And I would tell them that they can. Whatever it
is. They can. In fact, they must. That’s what I would tell them. I would tell
them these things because I wish someone had told me. But they didn’t. So now
it’s my turn. At least that is what I am hoping for.”
So, it’s taken about forty years for the prayer of a twelve-year-old gay
boy to be answered. But, it looks like I may finally get my chance. To tell
people. To make them see others differently. Or the same. To change them. At
least I hope so.
Tom Froehlich-“I am a Very Spiritual Yet Vulgar Man”
Upon further
research this blogger/inspirational speaker discovered that LIVEOUTLOUD is
interested in speakers that are slightly more famous than I currently am, so
until that happens please help me realize my dream. If any of my readers know
of a school, a church or any kind of organization at all that you think would
benefit from my speaking to them, please let me know because I would be happy
to do so. I guess I will just wait
for famous to come find me while I am busy doing that. Please contact me at
tomcfroehlich@mac.com.
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