Gay Has a Face

Introduction

The following collection of haikus captures the narrative ark of my relationship with what began (in my adolescence) as the distant concept of homosexuality but which I now better understand as the identity and personhood of my gay and lesbian friends. As an immensely privileged white, cisgender, straight male, it was only within the past few years of my evidently sheltered life that the queer community existed on the map of my faith, relationships, and social awareness. In other words, the idea that my classmates and friends might be gay or lesbian and fighting desperately to survive in a world inhospitable to their queerness was far beyond what I believed to be reality. Gay was merely a word to insult the buddies, and when the actually “concept” of homosexuality was brought up in church or at the dinner table, it was met with less-than-gracious condemnation.

However, my reality was transformed when people I knew—even some of my close friends—began to express and explore their queer identities. Gay could no longer just be a word or a concept; and it could no longer be met with a dismissive sort of “sin” verdict. Today, I am affirming of my queer friends and neighbors. These haikus seek not to capture the unique relationships I have with queer friends and mentors, nor do they seek to capture the admittedly conflicted relationship between my traditional convictions and where I rest in my affirming stance today. Instead, they seek more so to capture the first steps of an eternal journey acceptance and affirmation of queer and questioning individuals; this journey is one of learning how to love my neighbor and my God.

gay has a face. 

 

it started as jest. 

“gay” was detached, just a word 

for boring or dull. 

 

but then i learned more. 

“gay” was love, and life. but how? 

boys like girls and sports. 

 

my church offered this: 

hate the sin, love the sinner; 

pray their gay away. 

 

come highschool, it changed. 

peers came out; “gay” had a face. 

but still it was strange. 

 

i wanted to know 

the how of this foreign love. 

but it’s who, not how. 

these labels are wrong. 

my friends, now out, are sinners? 

and their love condemned? 

 

“defend the logic 

from tradition, nature, Word! 

you can’t!” the church says. 

 

yet i don’t care to. 

“gay” isn’t a topic or thought, 

a debate on sin. 

 

it’s not an insult 

or distant queer idea. 

it’s not a stranger. 

 

‘cause “gay” has the face 

of my friend and my neighbor 

whose love is not mine. 

 

i’m coming to know: 

a love which is not my own 

isn’t any less lovely. 

 

love need not be mine 

for me to see his beauty, 

to be her ally. 

 
poetryBrandon Smee