Friends of Dorothy

Several months ago my mother and grandmother kinda accidentally ended up at a gay pride event in Rehoboth Beach. My mom and I both -- and in different ways -- thought the story was very funny. My favorite part was when she described coming across a booth with t-shirts, some of which read "Friends of Dorothy." My mom then turned to her mother, Dorothy, and asked "so, what do you think THAT means?"

In a ridiculous train of thought that only the attention deficient could appreciate, this story came back to me as I thought about the past three weeks of visiting family and friends. After 25 days away, we finally returned to casa lesbinger (still looking for a good home/farm/estate name!) yesterday afternoon.

While away, Rhonda and I got to spend lots of time with our families -- together and apart -- and I finally got to meet and spend time with her niece and nephew. This was no small thing: it has been a number of years since Rhonda came out to her family and, until this Christmas, I had only met her sister and family once. Distance (us in Seattle and them in Virginia), adjustments (they being quite Christian) and timing meant that I had never spent time with the whole family before. It was a really big deal (to me and for Rhonda as well) that I was welcomed and included in their family Christmas celebrations. I finally got to play and talk with those kids whose photos have been gracing our refrigerator for years.

One night when we all went out to dinner together, I had this strange moment of feeling a part of Rhonda's family. There was also realization of the multiple ways in which the "family" sitting around the table was quite amazing. Rhonda's family is white, and her brother-in-law is Chinese-American, and the kids are bi-racial (duh!). As we sat around the table in our queer, multi-racial formation, it struck me that this family assembled here was very different from what Rhonda's parents could have imagined for their future when they were the parents of two young girls. And yet, there we were. together. connected to each other.

This all comes back around for me with the idea of Dorothy -- as in Wizard of Oz -- as a gay icon because she is the de facto queen of a group of rag-tag characters ( who feel out of place because of a lack of courage, heart, and brains). Dorothy is the glue that creates "family" in unlikely circumstances; she is the one who extends the boundaries of norms and acceptance.

I appreciate all of the various formations of my queer (literally and figuratively, of course) families and the ways in which the lives of those around me make me feel at home.