I’ve Waited a Lifetime for this Interview – Finale

Jumping The Gun... I Mean BroomAs you know if you’ve read my last few posts, I’ve been asked by a nephew who is a leader in his evangelical church to answer some questions about my life in general, and gay marriage in particular. He asks a series of questions, and I will answer them one at a time to give him time to digest my answers. Here are his final questions and my responses:

4) In what ways are you pleased and/or frustrated with progress in this area, socially and politically, in our country?

Obviously I’m pleased that my family is now legally recognized by our country. No one can keep me from Traf’s side if she’s ill by insisting our family is illegitimate (again, a deliberately chosen word). No doctors can refuse to give me pertinent information about her, and must accept my directives as her medical representative when she’s unable to do so.

When I die, she will inherit my belongings in the same manner that your wife will inherit yours, without having to pay the exorbitant taxes of a non-spouse and thereby lose half or more of what we shared together in life. She will be my widow instead of a mourning friend and will be accorded the respect and benefits due her.

We are raising our three-year-old great-grandson. I know you’re beginning to understand how great an undertaking that is, with all the worries and fears that any parent faces. Every minute of every day and night we guard him from harm, worrying over his health, safety, and happiness. I’m pleased that his playmates in school will (for the first time) understand that the family he is growing up in is as valid as their own. Although he will eventually run into the prejudicial bigotry against rainbow families in which such a large segment of our society indulges, perhaps it won’t hit him as young as it did our granddaughter only a few years back, or Traf’s daughters when they were children. Maybe now, we’ll attend school events together rather than one at a time to keep people confused about our relationship and thereby deflect potential abuse from our kids.

But, I’m frustrated that the LGBT community is facing such a serious backlash from those who are angered by our legalized marriages. Bullying bigots and self-righteous prigs are encouraging an ‘ew…ick’ response to us, again, based on assumptions concerning one aspect of our lives, our sexuality. That causes those with less self-control to act out, and ‘gay-bashing’ is occurring at a frightening pace. Any Google search about violence against LGBT will bring you face to face with horrifying statistics. In a two-minute search just now, I found an article by The National Geographic that says, in part:

The motivations behind attacks against LGBT people “have always been, and continue to be, [about] seemingly religious rhetoric,” says Kaila Story, a professor of women’s and gender studies at University of Louisville.

LGBT folks, especially those of color, have a disproportionately high victim rate of violent attacks, murder, and suicide. This number triples for transgendered men and women. One in four LGBT folks will deal with some form of violence in their lifetimes. Nephew, between me, Traf, your Aunt T-, Ba-, and Ja- (not to mention the other LGBT folks you know) which of us will be sacrificed on the altar of hate? Which ones of us will be brutalized, hospitalized, or buried due to “religious rhetoric” spread by your church and others like it, as the professor above calls it?

5) If you could change one thing about society in regards to perspectives or opinions on same-sex marriage, what would that be?

Same-sex marriage, just like any other marriage, is a social contract between two people and their government. It requires certain responsibilities, and gives certain rights that exist to protect one thing: family. When people wish to deny gay marriage, they are trying to leave certain families vulnerable.

The one thing I would change is the perspective that denying gay marriage will somehow sanctify heterosexual marriage. Your marriage is in no way threatened by my own.

Your sweet son and wife are in no danger because Traf and I are married. But our great-grandson would be DIRECTLY threatened by the reversal of our marriage, left vulnerable and unprotected by the laws of the land. He could be removed from us (the only safe place he’s ever known) and put in Foster Care. If religious conservatives have their way and vote in representatives who will strip our marital rights away, we will return to the days of living in the shadows as outlaws, existing at the forbearance of our ‘betters’, and with no legal recourse to right the wrongs and injustices done to LGBT folks and their families.

Is this over-dramatic rhetoric on my part? No Nephew, that’s the way it was only a few years back.

6) If you would have me relay one message or thought to my church on this topic, what would you have me say?

LGBT folks are just that, plain folks. We work, pay taxes, raise children, vote, and are productive citizens. What makes your spouse and children any more deserving of love and protection than mine?

7) Is there anything else you would like to add?

1 Corinthians 13:13

12Now we see but a dim reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 13 And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of these is LOVE.

Love is love. Do not pervert it with religious bigotry, but respect Lord God in His wisdom. He made us, one and all, in His image, and He does not make mistakes.

ALSO – As to why we use LGBT as opposed to the original letter arrangement of GLBT:

Men have historically, and still do, take the reins of any group because of their superior physical strength, wealth, and power. So of course, when the original movement began gay men listed themselves first, lesbians second, and bi-sexuals third. Transgendered people weren’t even considered at the time, much less those who self-identify as queer, intersexed, asexual, and/or questioning (this explains the newer version of LGBT: LGBTQIA+).

In the 1980s, AIDS was known by the under-educated as The Gay Disease. Religious bigots declared it God’s punishment for being gay (which doesn’t take into consideration the fact that lesbians have the lowest rate of contagion, far fewer than heterosexuals).

Gay men infected with this plague were abandoned by their friends, lovers, families, and even hospitals turned them away leaving them to die miserable and alone. People were afraid to touch them, so no one held them or dried their tears as they struggled with their inevitable, and painful, deaths. No one bathed them when they were too weak, or brought food to nourish and comfort them. They were the lepers of modern times.

So their lesbian sisters stepped up. We took care of them as they died, replacing the people they’d loved and trusted to be there for them. We held them as they sobbed in despair, we combed their hair and bathed the sweat from their bodies. We brought food, comfort, and care. And when they died, we cried as we buried them.

I, personally, helped ease the way for three men who suffered needlessly due to bigotry and prejudice. Many people think we lesbians have nothing in common with our gay brothers, but they are wrong. We share our humanity.

In recognition of our loving support, the gay men who ran the rainbow coalition changed the order of the letters, surprising the hell out of us. The GLBT movement became the LGBT movement.

Nephew, I hope these answers will give you some idea of what it is like for LGBT folks living in America concerning same-sex marriage. Remember, we are as diverse as any other group, and these are my thoughts based on my reality. Others may have differing views based on their lives.

I wish you the best of luck with your sermon. Open your heart, eyes, and soul; God will do the rest.

I’ve Waited a Lifetime for this Interview – Part Three

Jumping The Gun... I Mean BroomAs you know if you read my last few posts, I’ve been asked by a nephew who is a leader in his evangelical church to answer some questions about my life in general, and gay marriage in particular. He asks a series of questions, and I will answer them one at a time to give him time to digest my answers. Here is his third question and my response:

3) How would you characterize (if any) your interactions with Christians regarding your marriage?

That totally depends on the Christian, doesn’t it? I divide them into three categories: LGBT Christians; Mainstream Christians; and Evangelical Christians, and I’ll take each group separately.

LGBT CHRISTIANS (and YES, there are many of them) come in at least two types: The ones who know they are the children of a living God who loves them unconditionally; and the self-hating ones who writhe in agony over the disconnect between their belief system and the reality of their existence.

The LGBT Christians who know that God doesn’t make mistakes, and that they themselves never had a choice about being LGBT, understand that He made them the way they are for a purpose. They are usually relaxed in their religion, comfortable in the presence of their fellow church members, and embracing of not only other LGBT folks, but also other diverse members of society. I have always had glorious interactions with them. They invite Traf and me to their church services and into their membership. They laugh, and sing, and praise God through whom all blessings flow, working hard to make their communities safe places of acceptance.

The LGBT Christians who believe in a vengeful God, who hates them for the sin of being themselves, lead troubled lives filled with low self-esteem, distrust, outrage, and hatred for themselves and everyone else. Too often, they end up being turned away from the only support group they know the minute they come ‘out’, so many of them stay in-the-closet their whole lives. They work hard to deny their sexuality, convinced that if they can exorcise that one aspect of their lives God will smile on them and they will be happy. It never works out that way, unfortunately. It might work for a time, but eventually their true natures refuse to be denied and internal conflict, failure to conform to the desires of others, and condemnation from those around them make them miserable. Every time their church/members talk about what they consider their secret sin they hate themselves a little more. These LGBT Christians do not interact well with anyone, themselves included. They are usually so self-involved trying to be something/someone they are not that they are blind to the lives, loves, and needs of those around them. They often join evangelical churches (see below) in an effort to control (or be controlled) themselves.

MAINSTREAM CHRISTIANS are the ones who belong to traditional churches, such as Methodists, Baptists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, and others led by ministers who’ve earned doctorates of divinity (DD). Individual churches, rather than denominations, often determine how they interact with me and other LGBT folks. Some are welcoming and accepting. Others are judgmental and non-accepting. One of my favorite memories happened the year I came out.

I was terminated from my job with three days’ notice when I came out, and denied access to my classroom and students. My church told me I was no longer welcome, and not to return. The bank that held my mortgage would not work with me when my salary abruptly ended, and I lost my home. That was when I rented an RV and drove away from everyone and everything I knew, very despondent and more than a little inclined to drive off a cliff somewhere and end it all. Luckily for me, I had more curiosity than despair and kept putting off my suicide as I met strangers and visited places I’d never been before.

I was in Connecticut during June when the local Pride was held. It was not the first one I’d been to, but the small, sparsely attended and barely tolerated one in Fresno had not prepared me for this one. A large parade flowed through the streets, filled not only with Dykes on Bikes*, glitzy floats of drag queens** and dancing boys sponsored by gay bars, PFLAG***, and open cars filled with supportive radio personalities and politicians, but also with individual churches carrying messages of love and inclusion. A Methodist group was the first I saw, and the sheer joy that flooded me at seeing them in the parade made me run out into the street and up to an older woman walking with them. She took one look at my face, saw something there of my desperate need for acceptance, and enfolded me in her arms. She stood still, allowing the group to move on without her, hugging me until I was done. With tears in both our eyes, she released me and continued her journey, as I turned back to the curb to continue mine. It was one of those shining moments in your life that never leave you, and I will love that unknown woman until the moment of my death. I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for Methodists ever since.

EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANS have disproportionately proffered unpleasant interactions, although I must confess that most of these have been online and come from unseen strangers who claim to be Christian. I can’t know they are for sure, so some of them may have been merely trolls, or simply anti-LGBT.

I’ve been an active member of online LGBT groups for over a decade now, working to educate people about what it means to be one of us. That’s why I wrote the YA books I’ve written, to help kids in rainbow families come to terms with being part of a different type of family. Riding the Rainbow is about living in an out-loud-and-proud family versus the danger of growing up with in-the-closet parents. A Man’s Man explores an unhappy teen’s coming to terms with having a gay father. The Boxer Shorts Rebellion is a thinly disguised, fictionalized exposé of the Minnesota Anoka/Hennepin school district’s horrendous few years of being a suicide contagion zone and the very real dangers of bullying LGBT teens.

Each time I publish one of these books, trolling evangelical Christians have written harsh reviews based solely on their bigotry, rather than the quality of writing or messages, in an obvious attempt to squash sales. Sometimes it’s blatantly clear they haven’t even read the book they’re bashing. Online discussions about LGBT rights/marriage have led to even nastier exchanges. I’ve been called a ‘bulldyke’, ‘man-hater’, ‘rug-muncher’, and other nastier phrases I’ll spare you. My life and safety have been threatened repeatedly, as have the lives of my family. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been informed that a good rape (like such a thing is even possible) would set me ‘straight’. Again, I have only their self-avowal that these monstrous human beings are Christians because they certainly don’t fit my definition of the word or religion, yet they claim the title proudly.

One of my worst memories I already mentioned in the link I offered in the story of Traf and I getting married in San Francisco when the Westboro Baptist Church repeatedly harassed us in their hate-mobile. Their ugly nastiness displayed on huge signs, jeering words, and deliberate intent to ruin a day of happiness for as many as possible seared into my soul. The group of protesters, Muslim and Christian alike, displaying their judgmental bigotry as some sort of badge of honor, attempted to shame and ridicule us into disappearing. They couldn’t succeed because we were a large group with each other’s backs those days and night. But imagine what a vulnerable, in-the-closet teen would feel if confronted with such hatred.

I’m afraid, sweet Nephew, that these interactions have colored my views of your church, and your unspoken feelings and attitudes, even though you, yourself, have offered me only mild disapproval along with your love. One of your cousins, however, decided to let her gay relations know exactly what she thought last year, and let loose with a condemning attack so dark and deep it shocked me to my core. D- attacked your other lesbian aunt, denying T-‘s self-avowed Christianity and deeply held beliefs. Your cousin ignored our insistence that we have not chosen to be gay but were born this way, and was disgusted by our suggestion that God made us this way with purpose in mind. She told us that if we did not repent our sins and sinful life, we would be condemned to hell for all eternity. She insisted she was loving the sinner while hating the sin, but let me be quite clear: That was not love. Adding insult to injury, her sister chimed in, obviously impressed by D-‘s deeply held religious faith, wishing she were strong enough to address her loved ones with the same message.

I’m happy to say that D- changed her attitudes and beliefs. After the Pulse massacre in Orlando, she sent me a heart-felt apology which changed everything between us. I hope she also offered one to T-, because that, too, would be greatly appreciated I’m sure.

Dykes on Bikes

** Drag Queens

*** PFLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians And Gays)

I’ve Waited a Lifetime for this Interview – Part Two

cbb21-wedding_cake_toppersAs you know if you read yesterday’s post, I’ve been asked by a nephew who is a leader in his evangelical church to answer some questions about my life in general, and gay marriage in particular. He asks a series of questions, and I will answer them one at a time to give him time to digest my answers. Here is his second question and my response:

2) Do you feel on the whole accepted or persecuted by your friends/family?  Examples?

This is a huge question. I will take it in two parts: Family first, then friends.

FAMILY:  On the whole, yes, I feel both accepted and persecuted by family. If I count my mother, siblings, their kids, and their spouses, I end up with nine who are entirely supportive and eight who are marginally supportive. When I say marginally, I mean they are polite and kind to our faces, then turn around and support anti-LGBT legislation to deny us the same civil rights they themselves enjoy.

Does that count as persecution? Hell, yes. Every vote to deny or strip LGBT people of civil rights encourages bigotry. Even if my evangelical Christian family members don’t act on their prejudice around us, their votes and voices in church encourage others to do so. And believe me, there are plenty of self-righteous bigots hiding behind their Bibles who are delighted to beat us with their beliefs.

Bear in mind, when I say ‘beat’ it’s only partially metaphoric. The stories of gay men being attacked, lesbians being raped, bi-sexuals excluded, transgendered people being killed, and far too many of us dying by bullycide* may not hit the mainstream media with great regularity, but they spread like wildfire among us. The Orlando Pulse Bar massacre caught the world’s attention only because of the sheer magnitude of death and destruction. It terrified everyone in the LGBT community (myself included) but not because it was new to us. Every single day that goes by, someone in our rainbow family dies because of bigotry translated into action. Hate crimes, by definition, are terrorist acts perpetrated to spread fear through an identified group.

It works. We spend too much time on guard, or even afraid. Some of us more so than others, and I’m one of them. I go to Pride festivals because it’s important: they exist to empower my rainbow family. But I’m hyper aware, ready to grab our kids and flee at the slightest sign of violence. We no longer go to gay bars, our long-standing safe places, maybe because we’re getting older and don’t drink, or maybe because of the increase in violence being experienced as backlash for the legalization of gay marriage and other civil rights legislation. Traf displays no fear, but when confronted she doesn’t hesitate to get up close and personal, fists closed in expectation of a fight. Unfortunately, I’ve seen it several times with my own eyes, once as she passed our grandbaby to my arms for safe keeping.

When our country and state, nearly simultaneously, decided to include Traf and me as full citizens with equal rights we wasted no time in getting married. Your sister was also getting married and I didn’t want to steal her thunder, so I designed invitations that recognized the distance involved and explained I understood people would probably not attend. Still, like every other human being on Earth, I wanted my family to celebrate with me now that I was finally getting a chance to marry the one person in my life with whom I’d ever truly settle down. With a light heart and expectations of their best wishes, I mailed the invitations to all my family members.

Mom waxed enthused over the phone; she truly loves Traf. One sister suggested briefly that she might come and then never mentioned it again. Otherwise, not one of my family members recognized our big day was coming.

On September 12, 2013 Traf and I were married in our home. Our granddaughter was the flower girl. Both of Traf’s daughters, their spouses, and all but one of our grandchildren attended; the other one was working out of state. Immediately following the service, we had a reception in the backyard (chased inside by rain) with our neighbors and friends. The only members from my side of the family who mailed cards of congratulations were my brother’s ex-wife (your mother) and current wife (he marries good people). Shortly after, your sister’s thank you card for the wedding present we’d sent arrived along with a photo of all my siblings, my mother, and you and your cousins attending her wedding. It stayed on the mantle over our fireplace through Thanksgiving.

I understand that my family’s seeming boycott of my wedding wasn’t deliberate persecution. It was neglect and indifference, which hurt just as much if not worse. It’s a lot like the knowledge that almost no one (Mom and one sister excepted) in my family has read a single one of my books, much less bragged about me being an award winning author. But enough about that; back to your question.

Yes, I feel persecuted by my evangelical Christian family members because they deny the reality of our lives and ignore our needs, perpetuating a system of abuse that threatens me and mine. It wounds me deeply, and because of that I’ve learned to expect hurt and disappointment. I still love them and keep the lines of communication open, but how can I trust them?


Friends are the family you choose for yourself. I don’t feel persecuted by them, because I do not choose to be around people who make me feel threatened.

However, I do have one friend that wasn’t always supportive. She’s in my writing group, and we had to find our way to an understanding.

I am completely out-of-the-closet, and refuse to hide my relationship with Traf. Now that we’re married, I proudly refer to her as my wife, but when I met R- we were caught in the limbo (a deliberately chosen word) of second-class citizenry. Still, I often spoke of Traf and watched everyone in our newly founded group for any signs of bigotry. One night, it happened.

We’d been writing together for hours, everyone encouraging one another with a set goal in mind. It was midnight and I was gathering my things together to go home. Out of the blue, R- asked me, “Why are all gays pedophiles?”

I stared at her, uncomprehending for a moment. When her words did penetrate, I answered, “R-, I am going to knock you down.” I made no move toward her, but neither did I back away.

“No, seriously,” she responded. “Why are all gays pedophiles?”

“I am going to knock you down,” I repeated, putting down my things and preparing to do battle. “Gays are not automatically pedophiles. I do not, I repeat, do not hurt children.”

“Oh,” she answered, seemingly surprised. “I didn’t mean you.* That’s what I was taught.”

I looked at her closely, and saw only confusion in her face, not anger or hatred, so I unclenched my fists and sat down. The other two women in the group looked vastly relieved, and we all settled into a long conversation about what it means to be LGBT. It turned out that R- had spent decades as a member of a proselytizing evangelical church and truly believed that every gay person is a pedophile. Luckily for our group, she really listened as I explained my reality. She asked questions that sometimes shocked me, but only because she’d seemed so rational up until then.

It occurred to me, not for the first time, that almost everyone who knows that I’m gay cannot help labeling me. It’s the first thing they think when I come to their minds: Genta, the lesbian…the homosexual…the ‘other’. The movie, On Golden Pond, first brought that home to me when Henry Fonda’s character refers to ‘the lesbians who live across the pond’ several times, and never uses their names. That’s all they were to him, ‘the lesbians’.

How would you like to identified…every…single…time as a sexual act? Whenever the word ‘homosexual’ is used to define us, it’s the ‘sexual’ part that titillates and remains in peoples’ psyches. I think that is why we, as individuals and a group, have adopted the terms ‘gay’ and ‘lesbian’, to establish our identities as whole persons, rather than just a biological behavior.

Nephew, I challenge you: When you address your congregation use only the terms gay and lesbian to discuss us, but refer to straights continuously as ‘heterosexuals’. You’ll see people squirm, I guarantee it.

*  To be clear, all LGBT members are subject to any of the horrors: attack/rape/exclusion/murder/and suicide.

*  Too often, people categorize all LGBT folks as ‘other’. Since almost everyone knows someone who is LGBT, heterosexuals often excuse their friends/family members with the phrase, “I don’t mean you.” That gives them permission to continue their bigotry without having to deal with what it means/does to their friend/family member. Totally uncool.

I’ve Waited A Lifetime for this Interview – Part One

ec867-0900631b811f3468mcd0ca-crossblueI love my family, even when it sometimes seems as though they do not love me. One faction of my family are fundamental Christians, and their disapproval of me and my family has, at times, been palpable. They’ve always been polite to my Traf, and I’ve been grateful for that courtesy and still am.

But, just as the terrorist attack on Pulse Nightclub in Orlando earlier this year caused a niece from that part of the family to reach out and mend fences, I’ve been asked by a nephew who is a leader in his church to answer some questions about my life in general, and gay marriage in particular. He asks a series of questions, and I will answer them one at a time to give him time to digest my answers. Here is the first question and my response:

1) As regards yours and Traf’s journey towards marriage, what were some of your greatest triumphs and setbacks?

You have to understand that until June of 2002 the concept of gay marriage didn’t exist in my mind. I’d never heard of such a thing until someone at Twin Cities Pride asked me to sign a petition. It was a paradigm shift so great it took me several weeks to wrap my head around it.

Until then, our relationships were so clandestine we never talked about them outside of our own homes and close circle of lesbian friends. Our neighbors probably knew we were gay, but they didn’t mention it and neither did we. In May, 2002 Morgan was born, and I became a grandmother. Traf’s daughters had accepted me as their mother’s lover, but when my darling granddaughter entered our lives, we became a true family. A month later, as I registered voters at Pride, I first heard the words ‘gay marriage’ and our world turned upside down.

When we lived outside the law and went unrecognized by our own country, we were second-class citizens. Looking the way I do, I often passed as straight unless I was in Traf’s company. She is such a butch that people immediately recognize we’re a lesbian couple whenever we’re together. We’ve heard conversations about how horrible we are spoken just loud enough to carry to our ears, we’ve been insulted to our faces, called foul names, and denied service in public restaurants.

During the most horrible night of my life, when Traf ended up being transported by ambulance to a hospital with a suspected heart attack (thankfully only angina), the witch behind the glass at the Emergency Room registration desk openly smirked while gleefully telling me I didn’t count as family and wouldn’t be allowed to see her, even after I provided her with a legal document giving me her Power of Attorney. Thank goodness there was glass in place to protect her because I would have gladly killed her in that moment. Her delight in being able to give me even more pain than I was already in was unforgivable. She may be the only person in my life I’ve ever truly hated.

A year later, in 2004, we were visiting your grandmother after she’d been diagnosed with lung cancer and was recovering from the operation that took a portion of one of her lungs. It was my birthday, February 12th, and I was turning forty-seven. Traf was fifty-six. While watching the television we saw a story about the first legal gay marriage taking place in San Francisco. Mayor Gavin Newsom was allowing marriages to take place at City Hall during the long weekend. I thought, How quixotic. They’ll be stopped immediately. But because it was Presidents Day weekend, the government was not in session until Tuesday. Valentine’s Day was Saturday, and Traf and I looked at each other and jumped in the car to drive to San Francisco.

I wrote a piece that answers most of this question here:  https://gentasebastian-author.com/2013/03/26/history-is-being-made/  Please read it.

During the bittersweet years following the invalidation of our marriage, we faced the backlash of discrimination as our people fought our own government to be recognized as equal citizens. I’ll answer the next question on your list tomorrow. I think I’ve given you enough to mull over for the time being.

Queen of the Festa

Ana Carolina Meneses – Queen of the Lajes Festa 2016

Rarely do you get the chance to see a woman you love treated like a queen, but when that does happen, oh my goodness what a feeling! Usually that’s reserved for a wedding day, complete with special gown, flowers, and people surrounding you with love and best wishes. But not always. Some special women become queens in other ways.


I’m currently on the island of Terceira, in the archipelago of the Azores, where my wife’s grand-niece is the current Queen of the Festa for the town of Lajes. It’s a true honor, and her family couldn’t be prouder. Ana Carolina Meneses is beautiful, smart, kind, and completely deserving of this distinction. The celebration is entitled The Year of the Woman, and Ana epitomizes modern womanhood at its finest.

But then, so does her mother, her sisters, cousins, and her aunts. The women of Terceira have come a long way over the years, from her great-grandmother and other island women chasing Nazis off the island with bulls, to heralding in a new millennium and ushering in the rights of women. They’ve done it with humor, grace, and style, and  are heroines, one and all. This family, in particular, is something special.

I should know. I’ve been blessed with knowing them ever since I fell in love with my beloved, my Trafulha. She is one of a kind, a distinct personality that has lived life to the fullest and on her own terms. Born a butch lesbian on a Catholic island secluded from the rest of Europe, she had to fight every step of the way to force the world to accept her on her own terms.

But gossip, priests, prostitutes, the U.S. Air Force, and the times themselves could not bend her to their will. Luckily for me, she found her way to America and became the queen of my heart, my lesbian wife, my life. Later this year, on December 15th, my book When Butches Cry will be published by Sapphire Book Publishing. A fictionalized romance, it is a labor of love that has taken the better part of a decade to come to fruition, and in it I tell many of the stories of her life growing up on this wonderful island. I hope you’ll be entertained by it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Meanwhile, I am enjoying the incredible pleasure of watching my Trafulha’s grand-niece

Ana Carolina being assisted in preparation by her mother and aunts.

elegantly portray the Queen of the Festa. May all the women of Terceira, the world, and your life, have equal success in all their endeavors. Long live the Queens!


A Butch Never Cries

Release Date: December, 2016

Reveling in her contrariness, Traf’s got no time for ‘good’ women who conform. She competes with men, wears male clothing, and steals their jobs. A fighter, damn the consequences, she’s totally unsuited to the mundane role of a mid-twentieth century Azorean woman. Traf dreams of going to America where women do as they like, make their own money and live without the permission of men.

Emotionally damaged by past relationships, Ana is convinced she’s hopelessly inadequate. She joins an unprecedented type of private club, a group of women loving women calling themselves Troublemakers. The golden-haired beauty could have her pick of lovers, but her heart yearns for the mischievous butch with dark, brooding eyes. Fascinated by Traf since they were schoolgirls together, Ana knows her crush is hopeless; how could such a cocky, not to mention arousing, woman ever love her?

Gossip, sexism, priests, the US Air Force, and even their families, oppose them at every turn. Battling for their right to exist in peace, the young women have no role models, so Traf, Ana, and the other Troublemakers must develop a thriving subculture with its own set of rules. Number one is A Butch Never Cries.