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Although my family was homophobic, it did not prevent me from learning and eventually accepting my homosexuality. I realized in order to ease the coming out process for gay Filipinos, society must find something good in being gay. By stepping away from slanderous terms such as "faggot" and "fudge-packer," society must understand that gays feel, love, and hurt like other human beings. There must be greater role models and positive images of gay filipinos. We're more than just the bakla—we're bodybuilders, professionals, scholars, political exiles, and much more. More importantly, gay Filipinos as well as APAs must be an active part of their ethnicities, rather than flowing into the mainstream of gay white America.
This learning experience eventually gave me the self-assurance to tell my family I was gay. On November 25, 1990, Janet, John, Melissa, my mom and I were having Thanksgiving dinner in Santa Barbara. Since my parents divorced a few years earlier, my dad wasn't present. The dinner conversation focused on school, extracurricular activities, Melissa's homecoming dance, and John's latest workout. As soon as my mom inquired about Janet's boyfriend, I knew her attention would quickly be diverted to my dating life.
"Oyy Ray, so what about you? Tell me about your girlfriend."
My heart sank, and I stared at everyone around the table. I looked straight into Janet's eyes for support, and she stared back with a smile on her face. A few months earlier, I had told her I was gay at a Thai restaurant with friends who already knew. It took Janet a few weeks to truly accept my sexual preference, but, to my surprise, she eventually pledged her full support for me.
"Mom, I'm not seeing anyone at this moment. In fact, I don't have time to date because of my time commitments to school, work and extra-curricular activities."
"But nako, you'll eventually find someone. And I hope that I get at least 10 grandchildren!"
I took a deep breath and sighed. Meanwhile, Melissa was busy attempting to eat her turkey with a spoon and John leaned with his chair against the wall, satisfied with the food he just ate. Janet and my mom looked at me with blank stares.
I took a long and deep second breath and said, "Mom, I'm pretty hungry. Can you please pass the turkey? I'm gay."
Everyone paused. Melissa attempted to shrug away my comment by wiggling her shoulders and placing her face in close proximity to the dinner table. Her hair got caught in the mashed potatoes and gravy. Janet's smile grew from large to gargantuan, and she burst out laughing. My mom followed suit and laughed nervously, then hysterically. "What did Berkeley do to you?" And finally I looked at John. He was sedate, unsurprised, and unaffected.
"So, um, John, what do you think about my homosexuality?"
John looked at me with a smirk on his face and replied, "Dude, I don't care if you're gay or not. You're my brother, and I love you. I'll have mom's 10 grandchildren. Anyway, I've always known you were gay because I found the shopping bag."
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