original photo from etsy.com by nicole houff
My dad wasn’t happy when he saw me playing with a Ken doll, Barbie’s boyfriend. It was given by Tito Yol, an OFW, after giving my sisters and cousins Barbies. He had three daughters and it is only understandable if he didn’t buy toys for boys on his way back as pasalubong. He was a cool uncle who maybe thought that a Ken is no different from a G.I. Joe. Honestly, then as a 4 year old, and now at 36, I don’t see the difference either. Only in between, when i was starting to learn genetic differences and physiological tendencies were it an issue.
The Ken in question was a cowboy complete with guns, boots with spurs and a white plastic hat. My dad thought it was offensive for his only son, the son of a king from the mean streets of Mabitac, Laguna to be running around with a cowboy doll with his sisters. He did stop questioning the whole situation one time when he saw me playing alone with Ken and Barbie. Except that they were naked. And Ken was on top. I guess some curiosity about sexuality is more acceptable than others.
Our father and son dynamic can be deemed ok. We define ok as “as long things go in a direction he can grasp” or His Way. To steer anything into his bidding he used a powerful phrase that would negate any form of resistance, Bakit, bakla ka ba? (Why, are you gay?). If I don’t want to eat vegetables, Bakit, bakla ka ba?. If I refuse to take a bath Bakit, bakla ka ba?. If I was afraid of the dark, Bakit, bakla ka ba?. If he wanted me to buy beer or cigarettes at 10pm and I resisted, he’d curse and go Bakit, bakla ka ba? . It was a great deterrent for any form of rebellion coming from a kid 6-12 years old. I never understood why people at the sari-sari store found it amusing that a boy was in line to buy 5 sticks of cigarettes or half a case of beer. Looking back, I am more amazed that these people sold me those products of sin.
My sisters may have seen the power of that phrase and they use it to push my buttons in all petty situations as an end-all rebuttal. As a boy of limited patience and vocabulary, sometimes the only thing I can do to reply was through a louder voice, a clenched fist violent reaction, because punching proves that you’re not gay, right? That is worse because that is metted with violence of unimaginable intensity, a grown man transmitting force to a frail boy. The message is clear and I understand it. Don’t hit your sisters, ANY FEMALE! I would’ve gotten the message as effectively if he repeated it verbally, slowly, instead of whipping me hard with a 1×2 wooden stick. The context of the dreaded phrase need not be logical, it is a magical phrase, it results to mental submission. Even when I am asked to buy sanitary napkins and I offered resistance explaining that it’s not a guy thing, they’d retort Bakit, bakla ka ba?, off to the store I go.
In school, we were taught to move with method and procedures for a desired output. Still, there seems to be a prevailing norm where you have to identify yourself with a gender preference. A preference you are still defining, discovering and understanding. Everytime you don’t fit a mold, you are an anomaly that should be put in a box and be labeled as queer. In my time, most boys by 5th grade are circumsized. Like most males, they felt there was a need to validate each other by showing off their penises to prove that the foreskin is off. I only got circumsized by summer of my 6th grade going to high school, When I didin’t participate, Bakit bakla ka ba o supot? (Are you gay or uncircumsized?). I don’t know which is worse from the other, I don’t even know why it’s worse. So I was an outcast when they were wagging their wieners and establishing an alpha male order.
The women of the household treated me like a person not from the opposite sex, more maybe like a furniture. They can be half naked plucking hairs from legs to armpits to brows and they would be comfortable. I thought, maybe i can concoct a clever pick-up line out of this. About how You know, you can run around naked with me and you’ll feel safe. I got sisters… you’ll be safe with me in a motel! but there is no formula of words that can be phrased to make it sound cool and not sick. I should’ve been a gynecologist.
It is a little overbearing to have all strong willed women at home. It’s also like having a gun to your head when constantly being asked Do you think I’m fat? rephrased in some form. The verbal traps. Everything need not be an argument, but it can be. Everything need not have other meanings, but they do… Then when I got exposed to the macho outside world, I’m glad that all of my sisters have the sound faculties to process situations that would otherwise compromise them as sexually weaker by predators. I’m glad that none of them were ever put in a position where they have no say on a situation. I for my part, for most part, respected decisions of women I went out with.
But then again, it’s a macho environment and I am acting like an anomaly. In one job interview I had, I was asked If I was gay. She noticed by my reaction that she may be too upfront, she offered an explanation. She said “Kase mahirap kumuha ng bading kase mag ma-make up pa yan, di mo alam kung saang CR sila dapat… (It’s hard to employ gay people because they need to put on make up and we don’t know which toilet they’d take). When I pressed her “Why is that a problem?”. She retorted Bakit, bakla ka nga ba?”
Then when I was starting at another company, some co-workers found entertainment in finding out who among the new employees are gay. One suggested the silent guy, who went out with a female co-employee and nothing happened despite the girl getting drunk and opening up on her dissapointing current love life and pining for the days when she can be free to do as she pleases. I heard all that but I learned that you don’t have to eat free all the time. One said “Maganda naman sya!” and foiled it with Bakit, bakla ka ba?”
Let me make it clear that I could’ve been an a-hole to some people, with my fair share of a-hole actions. But that is a blog for another time. As intelligent beings though, it is amazing how we confuse ourselves by accepting something that is harder to prove than accept a truth that occurs naturally. All of us have gay friends, and it’s all right, they can come out just fine, it’s endearing. Most of us have this inexplicable and selective tolerance that runs on the line “As long as it’s not a member of the family”. If it’s a member of the family, then we’re supposed to be wary. We’re supposed to do everything from exposing them to gender specific toys or some form of exorcism.
The speculations may have died down since I got married with kids (but some may daresay I’ll pull a Bb. Gandanghari). I guess that will always be a hot topic for a convention of small minds. Now the discussion has morphed to “What if your son is gay?”. I just saw my 2 year old son run around with her sister’s Barbie. Wow, what a full circle experience! Do I now inherit the burden of my late father?
My son, my kids, can be whoever they want to be as long as their existence does not harm others or put others at an unfair disadvantage in pursuing what they want. My job is to provide the best platform to ensure that they can be the best person they want to be. I find it amusing that some people who claim to love another person can’t find a path to acceptance on something they feel they should change even if they know it is not intrinsically wrong. “So, you think your son is gay!”. No, and that’s not the point. It’s a non issue. It is more important to provide them an environment where they won’t think it’s right to morally compromise and trade their soul to move up in the society or detach themselves from it and not find value in extending a helping hand. That is a bigger, more important, more pressing issue we should address.
Ok Papa P., you can come out now…
danDAman 