(post drafted in May and published on July 23rd, 2011; re-edited and re-blogged today)
Last night before I headed to bed, I went downstairs to say goodnight to mom and was caught by the TV program she was watching. It was a current events talk show in Mandarin where they featured 3 panellists to have a discussion about the Burnaby school board’s newest proposed policy 5.45.
This draft policy is to hopefully “change the attitude” towards the LGBTQ community in schools and support youth who identifies as queer (I guess they caught on the numbers of suicides due to hate crimes or bullying towards homosexuals and wanted to do something about it). Basically, if this policy passes, the school board will include a section in the elementary school curriculum where teachers are required by law to teach kids what each of L, G, B, T, and Q means.
I knew it was a dangerous thin line I was treading when I stayed and watched the whole debate with her. There I was, sitting less than 3 feet away from her and holding a very different opinion and view on gays than her own. In a Christian household, homosexuality is something that we should unanimously agree on: “wrong”. Little does she know that her precious little daughter is hiding in the closet. Well, sort of. It’s a little complicated. Regardless, the topic is incredibly sensitive. During the entire show I was desperately hoping she doesn’t ask what I think. She would nod and agree vocally with the host, panelist, and the audience calling-in to the show.
How do I tell her that I disagree with the majority of conservative Asian parents in her generation? How do I tell her that I play on the same team? She’s already mad enough as it is when she found out I voted NDP in the latest election that won Harper a majority government.
The next morning, after church service, I was reluctantly pushed to a table covered in petition forms against the policy. They had been printed by the church and signed by several dozens of people in the congregation. An Elder of the church watched over me and my brother’s shoulders, aggressively urging us to put our names down on the form. I stood there, feeling nothing but panic. I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. As more urging came from behind me, I picked up a pen slowly. It was as if I was going to sign my life away. I stared at the paper and started to read the statements opposing the policy. I looked at my brother, and he seemed hesitant as much as I am reluctant. I lowered my pen at the lines in slow motion and waited desperately for something to take me away from the table.
I was lucky to have escaped the signing when my mom called for us. I immediately dropped the pen and pretended I had already signed the petition when I walked away. My brother followed. The Elder was hustling more people –who may or may not even have heard of the policy– to the table. I was relieved, but was the scolded by my mom when she found out that I didn’t actually sign the petition. I couldn’t! I wanted to shout. But I just kept quiet and walked in silence. Everything that happened made me despise the church more. If I didn’t before, I did now.
Eventually the policy was passed (though not before several protests against and rallies for it occurred). I had wanted to show my support by going out to the rallies, but the thought of my mom realizing I’m on the other side of the fence was too risky. I will have to continue my hiding… for now. The thing that saddens me the most is that church and home are the most suffocating places of all shelters. I can be who I want to be when I’m working on shows or involved in theatre. I can be who I am when I’m with my friends.
The theme at the Vancouver Pride this year is “Celebrate”. I wish I could…
Where's My Dime? 