Identifying as Queer

Over the course of my life, I have missed less than a dozen Sunday Masses and I attended catechism classes for eight years as a child. Some may view this as being ultra-religious, but I can't identify Bible passages and I am not really familiar with Catholic doctrine. Many times, I have gone to Mass more out of a sense of obligation than due to my faith.

However, at the lowest points in my existence I have turned all of my problems over to God. I have also been comforted by familiar prayers, services and views of the Catholic church. While I know that many people in the United States might see me as strange and religiously zealous for becoming a Catholic missionary, I chose to do a religious-based volunteer program because I felt a spiritual void in my life. Since being Catholic has shaped me in different ways, I also wanted to learn more about the Church that I feel drawn to remain a part of.

This week, I attended the VI World Meeting of the Families, a Catholic conference on the values of Christian families. Even before going, I knew I would be out of place there because unlike me, other attendants had been to these sorts of events before and are more involved in the Church than me. I went because it was held near-by, in the business section of Santa Fe, many parish members were going, and because Father got us a big discount on the ticket price.

It was hard for me to follow what was going on due to what was being said and the physical method off communication. The speakers came from all over the world and attendants were given radios from which translations were broad-casted. I spent much of my time trying to find the English station or listening to static transmissions. Even those who spoke in English often had thick accents that made it difficult for me understand them.

I found some of what was said to be moving and thought-provoking such as how abortion and euthanasia allows family members to kill each other and the manner in which abortion is used to get rid of poor and minorities within society. However, there were veiled and outright messages that disturbed me deeply--many speakers spoke out against homosexual unions and marriage and legislation allowing same-sex couples to adopt children.

What they said seemed to stem from Church teaching, but I couldn't understand the reasoning behind it. Some said that homosexual marriages would dis-value traditional marriages. They also said that children are harmed by not having both a male and female role model.

I am not familiar enough with Church teaching and dogma to be able to refute it, so everything I have to say on the subject of homosexuality comes from my heart, observation and some of my college courses. The speakers said that marriage is an act of love between men and women because of the stories of Adam and Eve and Mary and Joseph in the Bible. However, historically, marriage has not always been about love, it has sometimes been about connecting families and extending property rights. It often oppresses women. Still, even if I did believe that God wants sexual unions to occur only between married men and women, I also believe in religious freedom and would be against laws legislating this.

As to whether or not homosexuals should be allowed to adopt children--I've spent much of my time working with abandoned children here and I know there are unwanted ones all over the world. If loving people want to take care of them, it is abhorrent to try to prevent this. I know homosexuals who would make wonderful parents and I know married men and women who have done a lousy job raising their kids.

The conference saddened me because it showed me a part of the Catholic Church that I don't want to be associated with. I have encountered many people who extol wonderful Catholic virtues. I admire Father for allowing a developmentally handicapped man (who would otherwise be homeless) to sleep in the spare space of the parish. I respect the nuns at work who wear thick, rubber black boots beneath their saris as they carry the twisted bodies of handicapped people into the showers to be washed daily. I got a kick out of all the nuns I met in Texas who lead unique lives as war protesters, renowned psychologists and mystics writing poetry in the woods.

I went to Confession during the conference, and afterward I spoke with the priest about how upsetting the speakers were to me. He basically said that while the Church isn't against homosexuality urges or close relationships between people of the same sex, sexual acts between people of the same sex are wrong because God designed men and women to be together. He said that being born a homosexual is to be born with an impediment such as cancer or a short leg, and while they will struggle with it, they can control it.

I replied that homosexuality doesnt have to be viewed as an impediment and speeches like those that I had been hearing were contributing to discrimination. We went back and forth for a while and he didn't make me feel much better. He said that what I was hearing was the end result of church study but because I am a caring, compassionate person, I was seeing the emotion going into the issue. He said that it was okay to question views and that I am doing so because God made me a loving person, and I will probably struggle with this issue for years.

I am not ready to leave the Catholic Church over this, in the same manner that I retain my American citizenship though I despise some government policies. I wouldn't disown family members even if they held views on race which I find bigoted.

However, it makes it even more difficult for me to be here, because I feel like I have lost so many things--material comforts, a social life, contact with friends and family, my ability to communicate, and now my confidence in the Church as a way of promoting harmony.

What remains is my ability to love and my belief that God will carry me through this experience and help me to learn from it. What is growing is my ability to sympathize with those who feel disillusioned and rejected.

A Lonely Piece

Paulina is three and-a-half years old, was abandoned by her parents, and has dark brown hair that is kept in a bowel cut. She walks around the Sisters' home in cute dresses with her arms swinging, head up, and always after something. If her twin sister has a soft, white roll and is enjoying a bite of it, Paulina will grab the bread from her sisters' hand and stuff it into her own mouth. Paulina eats food from unattended plates and grabs books and toys from smaller children. Mostly, she is on the lookout for adults to pick her up and when she sees someone bigger, she approaches them with her arms extended upwards. She'll settle for holding hands, but if she finds another set of open arms to scoop her up, she will let go of the person she has. If I am carrying a crying baby, she tries to pull the baby from my arms, or she points to a crib or baby-seat in an effort to get me to put the child aside and pay attention to her.


My father is in his late 60's, has spent his whole life and Pittsburgh, and has graying hair that is usually covered by his sports cap. He doesn't miss Mass, he rarely misses choir practices, picnics or Steelers games, and he often misses work. He didn't want me to go to Mexico and had lots of ideas of what I should do instead, ranging from running for Congress to tending bar. One of his last suggestions was ''Look, you can live at home and not pay rent. You can do social work at the Senior Center. I'll retire and let you have the Beemer.''

Paulina can't speak but if she could she would be saying what my father was really saying--
''Let's be safe and happy together. Let's not worry about anything else.''

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Then there's Corazon who is nineteen years old, very tiny, and seems to be comprised of a huge smile and baggy clothes. She walks unevenly, with a limp and hunched back. Sometimes she is weeping instead of smiling and then I'll put my arm around her and give her dolls and read her stories until she perks up again. She dances and says a few words, mostly 'Mama' and 'Sister.' When it's time to move the other girls, she helps to push the wheelchairs. Once, when one of the nuns was trying to to force medicine into Edith's mouth, Corozan jumped out of bed to help Sister hold down Ediths' arms.

I am sitting on Corazon's bed, reading her 'Sleeping Beauty' when a new nun walks in and introduces herself. Her name is Sister Maria, she is from Columbia, and she became a nun 28 years ago after her Father died and she went to England and took a pilgremage to Lourdes. She asks me where I am from, what I am doing here, and if I have a boyfriend.

''Praise the Lord,'' she says to my response. ''They'll just hold you back. You need to be free to do your own thing and move around. People say single people are lonely, but married people get lonely too. You have as good a chance of marrying a good husband as you do winning the lottery. Just do good works and do everything for God. If you feel lonely, there are plenty of people to visit, '' she says, as she looks around at the room full of beds of handicapped women. ''And there are even more people in hospitals who need companionship.''

Her thoughts seem valid, but I don't tell her that being at the home often makes me feel lonely than being by myself. I feel out of place, as if I am a clumsy one-woman cheerleader squad. I think that if I did have a boyfriend or family to come home too, it would make things much easier. Of course, back in the United States there's a whole country full of guys I would be able to talk to who used to approach me at parties and work, but I had someone and wasn't interested in them.

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I am trying to figure out why there are so many needy people out there when there are so many people needy people out there. It's like a third of the world fits in a puzzle, and the rest are pieces scattered about, trying to find a place inside, or fit with another random piece.

What if Paulina was my Dad's daughter? Maybe she'd stay with him his whole life and they'd spend sweet Sunday afternoons driving around together. How many couples are desperate for little girls? Meanwhile, Corozan is going to be a little girl forever, calling for Mama. As for me, why didn't I end up with my own family in Pittsburgh....or why can't I be like the nuns and have it be enough do everything for God?

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This is being written as I am home alone on a Friday night, though I could have gone to the Parish where I would have felt welcome. Guillito would try to feed me and he adores me, probably because I remind him of some of the mothers of of the nineteen children he has fathered. The men with mental handicaps like talking with me because I listen to them patiently. I am not there because I know eventually I will feel frustrated and left out if I stay for too long sinceI don't understand what is going on. I'll use this as an excuse to nip at the tequila and since my New Year's resolution is too take better care of myself, I am at home.

The thing is--my thing is people, mostly people who are somehow awkward or different. I notice them, I think of them, I listen to them. The fact that people here so often make me feel lonely and irritable makes me question who I am.

In orientation, we learned that bad spirituality is what happens when people fail to know God and it manifests itself through things like drugs, overeating, greed and violence. I wonder though if maybe those things are the result of a failure to feel close to other people.

But, we are all made in God's image and likeliness. By paying attention to others, we can know God. While I may not always feel at ease around people, my calling my be to share my experiences of others and encourage people to look hard for those that they fit with. As for those times when I retreat inwards and prefer being alone, by coming to know myself, I am knowing God too.