After All, Tomorrow Is Another Day
Growing older with wisdom and aplumb in a small South Texas town
by Chris Sill

It’s like walking out of one world and into another. You leave behind some very pretty things, but you also get rid of some negative things." Wise words on aging spoken by a gay man from a small South Texas town.

A teacher for the past 24 years, he is not publicly out (so he requested that we not print his name or photo). "I’ve never officially come out to people," he says. "Through conversation they’ve figured it out. It doesn’t seem to matter to most people as long as you’re a good person. However, that’s something that has always bothered me. When I was younger, the big problem with being openly gay was that society painted pictures of gay people as being bad people, which created negative stereotypes. It’s changing a lot these days. Now people realize that gay people are like anyone, just as diversified, and extremely nice, caring, and giving people. Sure, there are plenty of jerks out there, but that doesn’t come with being gay, just human."

But even with increased acceptance, as a teacher in this tight-knit community, being openly gay is still just too controversial and career-threatening.

"I have students who come to talk to me about all kinds of issues, including sexual identity. I won’t touch that subject until a student turns 18. Straight or gay, teachers have to be so guarded in what they say to students. With gay teachers it’s even harder. If a gay issue comes up in class and some students react with hostility, it’s very hard to remain neutral. But I have to be because that is not the reason I am there."

Regardless of his years of earned respect from parents and school officials, a public outing is still a difficult issue for him. "There is a caution there because the trust can be lost in a heartbeat."

Surrounded by young pupils, two decades of teaching mutual respect in the classroom have helped him feel easier about getting older. "One of the most difficult things for any man to deal with is physically realizing you are not young anymore. You have to learn to deal with it. When it is not the thrust of who you are and your personality is not fully dependent on the physical, it is easier to make the transition more gracefully."

His friends often comment on the amount of attention paid to him by younger men. He himself finds it strange and unexpected, especially coming from a culture so obsessed with physical looks. Friends insist the attraction comes from his unwillingness to worry and the obvious level of comfort he has with himself. Something young people struggle with, something that comes only with age.

"For me the fears are not really there. I call it the Scarlet O’Hara syndrome–‘Oh, I’ll worry about it tomorrow’–and I never do!"

If one fear does cause him some anxiety, it has to be loneliness. "Occasionally being alone does cross my mind. I haven’t had a lover in many years and I don’t think I need that as part of my identity, but being alone is an issue many gay people face, since most do not have children. My hair can gray, my face can wrinkle, and my health can deteriorate, but all those things don’t bother me as much as that one thought that creeps into my head–when I’m lying in that bed and dying, will there be anybody there? That’s the one fear."

For now this small-town teacher relies on the company of good friends. Surprisingly, most of his closest friends are straight, something that gives him hope that one day sexuality will not be an issue in a classroom or anywhere else ... even at his own Halloween party.

In all his years in this small town, not once had he encountered physical violence–that is, not until this past October at a costume party thrown by him and his roommates. He attended as Caligula, dressed in skimpy Roman attire with a long, heavy cape, fine gold leaves adorning his head, and plenty of eyeliner.

Later that evening, two male guests crashed the party and soon learned the host was gay. Unknowingly, the men began bad-mouthing the host to a couple of his best straight friends. The situation quickly escalated into a good ol’ Texas brawl. With cape flowing behind him, Caligula charged into the room, putting himself between friends and foes. "This is my house and I will not have fighting!" he proclaimed at the top of his lungs. Suddenly his cape slipped off his shoulders to the floor. "Oh, excuse me for being so sexy!" he purred. Without a thought he picked up his cape, placed it on his shoulders and continued screaming.

The house went still. The two guests dropped their fists and left. For a moment, no one spoke a word. Then came the laughter. It was the perfect Shakespearean moment–tension followed by comedic relief. Their gay friend and schoolteacher had just given them the performance of his life.

He comments, "I’ve had all kinds of people come into the house, find out I was gay and leave. Some come back, some choose not to. More have returned than not, and the ones that don’t come back, you don’t really want in your life anyway." Scarlet O’Hara couldn’t have said it better.