David's Letter to PFLAG
by David Beeman
Letter from a gay son, David Beeman, to his parents, Betty and Paul Beeman, read at a PFLAG meeting in Olympia, Washington, Dec. 14, 1997, celebrating the completion of their terms as co-presidents of PFLAG Olympia--Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays.
December 14, 1997Dear Olympia PFLAG,
It is with great pleasure, pride and a bit of surrealism that I write this letter to pay personal tribute to my parents, Paul and Betty Beeman.
I say surrealism, because 12 years ago, if you had asked me how my parents would spend their retirement years, the concept of their becoming gay and lesbian activists seemed about as likely as their becoming a tag team in the World Wrestling Federation, or part of a S.W.A.T. bomb squad. Now, looking back, it appears that these options were not as outrageous as they first seemed. Wrestling with the likes of Pat Robertson is no easy task, even for Mom. Diffusing the bombs of social injustice takes a bit more than heavy body armor and a big truck.
What on earth possesses two normal, seemingly sane people to spend what should be their golden years (golf, shuffleboard, ma jong, etc.) into doing things like testifying in beautifully articulate words in front of the House and Senate, selling buttons, working on ad campaigns, selling buttons, marching in parades, selling buttons, meeting with leaders of the gay community, selling more buttons, and working with some of the most respected people in the gay and lesbian community--my parents' fellow Olympia PFLAG members?
This is where I get to tell you what I think about PFLAG. There is literally no other organization on the planet like PFLAG. When friends and I get on the subject of parades, the conversation always comes back to PFLAG, and how no other organization, in a parade filled with every colorful fringe aspect of gay and lesbian culture, seizes people's pride and makes them feel a little less abandoned by society at large. See, the truth of the matter is that about eight out of 10 of my friends have either a) not told their parents they are gay or lesbian, or b) told them and have been cut off in one way or another. When the PFLAG contingent marches by, these are not just parents, but surrogate family for many whose natural families have left them behind.
Now, looking back I think there were times when my parents thought that a surrogate family for me might not have been such a bad idea. With parenting sometimes comes grief. Grief for unmet expectations. Grief for kids who just can't seem to stay on the path you've tried to forge for them. Grief for wondering where a sometimes hostile, unforgiving world will eventually take them. I know that my brothers and sister and I have, at times, given our parents more than their share of grief. For my siblings' sakes I won't go into specifics. But suffice it to say that the most important words a child can hear are, "I love you, no matter what!" even if it were said with a red-faced, fist-clenched, teeth-ground, sobbing lack of enthusiasm.
These words, which came from my parents, sometimes with a bit of reserve, sometimes repeatedly, have meant more to me than all the other testifying, parade-marching, etc., put together. These words are what I will take with me for the rest of my life.
This is why PFLAG has been so vital for them and for us as children. It provides a place where people can, in full confidentiality, grieve, celebrate, share, support, be confused, be angry, be mournful, and be grateful and loving. The parades and debates and celebrity coming-out stories of recent years, while important, are not nearly as meaningful as knowing that there is a family out there.
Thank you, Mom and Dad. I love you both very much.
David
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