How Brokeback affected me

[twtplanner]

Dear Paul,

When  came to the board tonight, it was with the intention of merely checking in and reading a few posts.  I didn't expect to read such a poignant story as yours.

As I sit here, I can visualize the setting and almost feel your seldom touches with Billy.  an aside:  you're writing style is wonderful.

I hope very much you can find success with your search.  It surely must an emotional ride you find yourself on now.  Best wishes and luck to you and your family.

tt

[mountain boy]

I hear you.
Writing about Billy is easy.  Sweet memories.
Writing about me, now that's a different thing altogether.
Been in the closet so many years, I don't even know where the doorknob is anymore.
Still searching for Billy.  Hoping.
Paul

  Good luck and let us know how it goes.

[wtg02]

When I started writing what is below, my thoughts and feelings kept pouring out.  Consequently, this post is longer than I intended, and will be distributed over several postings.  I’m not sure this is the correct thread because I’m writing not only about how Brokeback Mountain has affected me, but also about ideas that stretch from art and creativity to social, cultural, political issues.  It’s difficult to know exactly when to introduce a new post, particularly a long one, in the middle of ongoing conversations.  Jakkefin and flyingtom are reevaluating their situations.  Basqueboy waits to hear a response from someone he fell in love with 20 years ago.  Nick and his wife celebrate the birth of Brasen.  Congratulations!  Paul shares his very poignant story about Billy.  And, Founding Member Jack offers his usual warm, gentle support to new members, and suggests that what may be happening on this forum is a movement.  I apologize for the interruption.  Like many of you, I’ve thought a lot about this story and film.  It’s had an impact on me that will likely last the rest of my life.

I’m quite pleased I found this community of people who express with such eloquence a range of intellectual and emotional responses to Brokeback Mountain.  Spread across the planet, there seems to be a diverse group here.  What is striking is that even though there are differing opinions and interpretations about this story and film, and sometimes heated discussions, there seems to be an ethic that encourages all voices to be heard.  I’ve also been impressed by the number of genuinely empathic responses to those members of this community in pain.  I’m not sure what I can add to the many insightful comments here, but I feel compelled, like many of you, to share how I’ve been affected by BBM by weaving part of my own story with thoughts and feelings about the film and some of its social, cultural implications. 

I’ve read the story and screen play several times, have read many critiques, have seen the movie three times, and will likely see it again before it leaves the big screen.  While I’ve read a few stories and have seen a few films more than once over the course my life, the level of my involvement with this story and film is totally out of character for me. 

On the heels of reading aloud to me the novel, The Kite Runner, my partner read me Annie Prouxl’s short story, Brokeback Mountain, by the ocean on a southwest Florida barrier island this past fall during a vacation.  We were moved by this well-written narrative that produced - with such an economy of words - a rich visual mental picture of Ennis’s and Jack’s world.  It also evoked deep emotions.  We were quite eager to see the film. 

However, I was totally unprepared for the intensity of the emotional reaction I would have - a range of feelings that seemed beyond categorizing.  Like others here, I found the film haunting.  I’ve cried about the strangest things at the oddest moments.  The only experience I’ve had to compare it to was my reaction to my mother’s death.  Bravely struggling with a long drawn-out illness in a nursing home, she died unexpectedly one night.  When the nursing home called to tell me she had passed away, I felt in that moment a deep visceral reaction in my gut - like something had been ripped out of me.  Although I had a good bit of time to prepare for my mother’s death, what surprised me most was the depth of grief I felt for many months.  I cried at the oddest times for reasons that weren’t readily apparent.  It felt like I had been shaken at the roots of my being.  And now, after seeing Brokeback Mountain, I’ve had a similar experience. 

I’m a sensitive, introspective man, but I was somewhat dumbfounded at first by how my feelings had been stirred so deeply by this film, and I can see many of you now giving that knowing nod.  On the surface, I understood my response and could identify with the pain and aching loss in this story.  I’ve read many heart-wrenching Brokeback stories here, stories that in many ways mirror the film socially, psychologically, and emotionally.  Like the film itself, many more of these stories need to be brought to the light of day in the larger culture.  I’ve been very impressed by those of you who have had the courage to disclose intimate and sometimes deeply painful truths about your lives and about the social, cultural world we live in. 

As I’ve moved through the many layers of meaning in Brokeback - in an effort to process my reaction to the film - I finally realized that the film had stirred dormant feelings in me that stretch all the way back to my beginnings – to my childhood, family, and community.  As a gay man born and raised in a small town in the hills of Southern Appalachia, the film stirred up my own Brokeback experiences.  I think at some level I was horrified at the thought of who I might have become had I stayed in that small town.  I dated girls all through high school and women all through college.  I was quite active socially in my high school and community.  However, growing up, when I heard someone use the word, “queer,” a word that was spoken with such venom and disgust, I was quite sure that was in the not-me category, even though I knew inside I had warm, affectionate feelings for some of my good male friends.  Those feelings were probably much more lustful than I’m conveying here, or that I may have admitted to myself at the time.  But more important, there was no language to talk about those feelings in any direct way, and as a consequence, it was as though part of me didn’t exist. 

My first love was a guy in my neighborhood during my teen years.  We’ve had sporadic contact through the years, but I’m not going to share that story here, or details of the subsequent Brokeback experiences I had before and after I left Southern Appalachia.  Those relationships were quite exciting, often carried on in places as beautiful and isolated as Brokeback Mountain.  There was an intense level of mutual emotional attraction, yet a delicate balance between intellectual and emotional closeness, as well as varying degrees of physical intimacy.  But those relationships could only go so far, a situation I’m sure that resonates with many of you.  Without your knowing the details, except to say that all of those men have since married women, I’m sure you can guess the painful endings.  I said goodbye to many a Jack or Ennis in my early years.  Feeling quite distraught, I got on a plane to return to my life somewhere else. 

But what I do want to share is how my reaction to the film is related to those Brokeback experiences.  When Annie Proulx saw the film, she said the characters of Ennis and Jack came rushing back into her consciousness - like wham.  Likewise, the memories of all my Brokeback experiences came rushing back as well.  Every Ennis or Jack from many years ago returned to my consciousness.  What I’ve come to understand is that not only were those relationships at some deeper level not very fulfilling - even though they were extremely exciting at the time - but there was never any real closure.  Consequently, everything at the end seemed to be in a muddle.  I was trying desperately to wrap my mind around what was happening.  Yet, like Ennis and Jack, and particularly Ennis, it was difficult for nearly all of those men to talk about what was happening for them, and what was happening between us.  Without explanation or closure, I felt empty inside, longing for a deeper connection.  I also wondered whether I would ever be able to have a sustained, meaningful relationship with a man.

I never said to another human being I thought I was a homosexual until the summer of 1965.  The word gay wasn’t even part of the lexicon of my world then.  I was 19 and in college, and like Ennis’s and Jack’s declarations, I was quite sure I wasn’t queer.  I also never imagined that the process of coming out would be a lifelong journey in this culture.  Nor did I have any idea how painful that process would be.

I came out to my parents when I was 25 during graduate school at Tulane University.  Of all the times I could have chosen, I told them on Christmas Eve.  Out of my clumsy ramblings – it was like the words were caught in my throat - my mother verbalized what I was trying to say.  She already knew because she had been very supportive when my heart was breaking over the neighborhood guy during my teen years, even though at the time we didn’t really talk about it directly.  When it was absolutely clear what I was saying about myself, my father burst into tears and quickly left the room.  That moment is etched in my memory forever.  I don’t know what compelled me to tell them on Christmas Eve.  Christmas was always a special, magical time in my family.  However, even though it had the makings of a holiday psychodrama, like those on Thanksgiving in BBM, I don’t have any memory of it being one.

It wasn’t easy at first, but my parents were very supportive, as they were throughout my life.  Bright sensitive people, they wanted to understand, as many parents do, what they had done wrong.  I assured them nothing, and as time passed I think they came to believe that as well.  Far removed from Ennis’s and Jack’s world, my parents were very proud of me, and I will always be grateful to them for what I’ve been able to do in this life.  I also feel fortunate that I was able to thank both of them before they died. 

All of that said, what Brokeback Mountain has helped me see with crystal clarity is that I had to leave that small town in Southern Appalachia to make a social-psychological-emotional space to accommodate my feelings and desires for men.  And what coming out has meant as a lifelong journey has been to make that space ever larger.

While Ang Lee focuses tightly on the very circumscribed emotional world of Ennis, Jack, Alma, and Lureen, the prescribed constrictions of the social, cultural world these characters inhabited loom large in this film.  Lee characterizes the struggle for Ennis and Jack as one between individual free will and social obligations.  Or, as my partner expressively puts it, this story “eloquently and unerringly explores the timeless conflicts between individual desire/self expression/self identity and society’s demands for conformity/assimilation/cultural allegiance.”  Coming out in this context is not only a painful process, but as we witness in the film is virtually impossible in the 1960s rural West. 

The first steps of coming out meant leaving Appalachia.  At the beginning of this long journey, I naively thought that telling people I was gay and somehow managing my fears regarding the externalized homophobia in our culture would be my biggest obstacles on this journey.  Although it became easier over time to tell people – and that in itself felt liberating – I had no idea in the beginning that the biggest obstacle would be my own internalized homophobia.  As Cowboysnkisses on this site insightfully puts it, “the process of coming out certainly involves dealing with fear, but it most significantly involves dealing with shame,” and all of the associated issues regarding self, identity, masculinity, etc.  In the film, it’s painful to watch Ennis’s agonizing struggle with this and his inability to understand it in a way that he could move beyond it.

We all have a story to tell, just as I’m sharing part of mine here.  For me, our stories are fundamental to how we cognitively make sense of the world, how we know and understand one another through joy and suffering.  Our stories are an integral part of how we make connections with one another – like the connections being made on this site.  Not only do we tell stories about ourselves, but we write and live those stories as well.  Our stories embody our hopes and dreams for a future of possibilities.

But how do you realize your hopes, dreams, and desires in a culture that denies or marginalizes, and ultimately refuses to legitimize your experiences?  How do you realize hopes and dreams when you’ve internalized society’s homophobic script, along with its underlying presuppositions about you, not just as a gay person, but as a human being?  While some people would like to keep their Brokeback experiences at a very personal level, any attempt to answer these questions immediately makes this story and film political on a larger stage – in that manufactured and shared world we call culture.  For me, culture is a fairly arbitrary social construction, a system of world-making organized around values, beliefs, etc.  Yet, when we are fully immersed in a cultural system of beliefs, we can’t see that it’s a social construction.  Consequently, we can believe beyond a shadow of doubt about almost anything, including internalizing a culture’s beliefs about what it means to be gay, what it means to be a man or a woman in that culture.  In my opinion, the most interesting questions about this process focus on how and who decides what social reality will be.  And, how will any of us write and live our stories as a meaning-making process within the larger cultural narrative?

At my age, I don’t have much patience with people who claim to have absolute certain knowledge about how the world really is.  I don’t have patience with people who try to tell me how I should write and live my story by insisting that I accept as absolute truth their explanations/interpretations of the world – all without consulting me.  Ignorance and fanaticism are a deadly combination.  Fundamentalist belief systems of any persuasion seem to suck the oxygen out of the air, stunting the growth of the kind of diversity required for a rich, vibrant, flourishing, creative culture.  But most important, such systems of belief suppress or shut down the human imagination. 

I have a profound sense of awe about this wonderfully mysterious universe we live in.  In my opinion, even though we’ve learned a good bit about this swirling planet that we inhabit, life itself seems to be beyond any system of understanding we’ve created to understand it.  I personally don’t need to appeal to some transcendental, supernatural place to validate my experiences in this world, or to mediate the deep connection I feel with this vast universe.  For those who do, that’s perfectly ok, but they must not insist that all of us have the same kind of experience as them, when in fact, we may not.

(continued in Post #2)

[wtg02]

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I certainly identify with the aching pain and loss in BBM because I’ve been there too – experiencing through the years the subtle and not so subtle expressions of persecution and oppression as a result of society’s homophobia, as well as wrestling inside that closet with my own internalized homophobic demons.  As BBM so poignantly portrays, living in the closet not only takes a horrendous amount of psychological-emotional energy to monitor and censor your every word or move, but it robs you of being fully human, as we witness in Ennis.  Yet, everyone has to decide how to construct life in relation to this closet.  That includes gay people, and ironically, straight people too.  There are many social, cultural worlds that forbid you to openly be who you are, from the small town culture of America’s heartland to the military.  The price is simply too great, and thus, requires you to hide.  I could never ever fault anyone for that, but it does indeed break my heart for those people who find themselves in that situation and don’t want to be.  Perhaps that’s one reason for the outpouring of empathic responses here to those in psychological pain.  Many of us understand that pain well.

So are we to be in the closet or out?  Either way there’s a price to be paid.  In the film, we see Ennis struggling with the psychological pain of being in the closet, as well as his fear of being out.  Although it’s probably been interpreted quite eloquently some place on this site, that tire iron represents for Ennis his ultimate fear of being out – death.  Whether we view the tire iron literally or metaphorically, it is his fear that keeps him in the closet.  Consequently, as Dave Cullen points out, it’s what gay people give up to avoid the tire iron that is the tragedy of gay life.  Thus, for myself, I’ve spent a good bit of my life coming out, making that social-psychological-emotional space to accommodate my feelings and desires for men.  No matter what happens in the larger culture, I have no intention of returning to that closet.  Let me share why.

When I stopped trying to have intimate relationships with straight men and closeted gay men, my first real relationship with another, more open gay man lasted five years in a small conservative Midwestern city.  I think we probably knew at some level our relationship wasn’t forever.  Yet, that relationship helped both of us to have sustained, meaningful relationships with other people.  In this first effort at a long-term relationship, we learned a lot about ourselves, and I will always be grateful for that.  I’ve also been pleased that we’ve remained friends through the years. 

Juxtaposed to the agonizing personal struggles of my earlier years mirrored in BBM, I’ve also experienced a good bit of joy in life, probably because I’ve experienced love – with family, friends, and of course with my partner.  Three years ago my partner and I moved into a house that we designed and had built – a labor of love we worked on a number of years.  It’s located at 8200 feet in the Rocky Mountains outside Denver.  It sits on five hillside acres with panoramic mountain views, including a view of the snow-covered Continental Divide.  I share this because our house is a symbol of the extraordinary 25-year relationship we’ve had together.  It’s also the meaning-making stage on which we intend to live the rest of our lives.

For us, love is not something you find, it’s something that happens between you and another human being, and you have to be open to it.  It’s risky – you’re vulnerable – but the rewards can be immense.  What happened for us has been better than either of us ever imagined.  With a great deal of respect for one another, we’ve created a very loving, caring, nurturing relationship.  It’s been like a 25-year conversation, one in which we can’t imagine ever running out of things to say, share, or do together.  The irony is that many of our married friends want to know how we do it.  Although it was a totally serendipitous meeting – one that we regret we won’t have grandchildren to tell about – we feel enormously lucky that we met.  With the kind of trust we have between us, we’ve created a very safe psychological-emotional space in which we can be ourselves, and at the same time mirror for the other things we cannot see about ourselves by ourselves.

As part of the journey of coming out, over the years we’ve expanded the social-psychological-emotional space we’ve created to include ever-larger parts of the social, cultural world we inhabit.  We’re not gay activists (although I think I’m moving in that direction), but we’ve made our relationship over the years – and unknowingly at first – increasingly political by simply making it visible to the larger world – at work, at school, doing business in the world, on vacations, nearly everywhere we are.  One of the biggest social, cultural, political statements we can probably make is for people to see us moving about our daily lives as a couple – two regular guys enjoying life, making meaning in this world together, two guys who share a deep abiding love.  While a good many people in the larger culture have been arguing with such vile rhetoric over who has the right to do what with whom, we’ve gone on and built a life together, as many others here have done as well.  We feel very fortunate that we’ve been able to do that.  We don’t ask anybody if we can be a couple.  We are a couple.  As the years have passed, we’ve found power in that, and have come to move in the world with a good bit of ease. 

If you could see me right now, you would see the sparkle in my eyes as I say, “I love my partner very much!”  He’s my best friend.  We laugh and play, and have lots of fun together.  We cry sad and happy tears.  It’s easy for us to share what we think and how we feel.  We also share an infinite curiosity about life and living. We’re urbanites, but we love the beauty, peace, and quiet of living in the mountains together.  We love our books, music, and art, as well as working on our land and tending to the birds and wild animals.  We love traveling and sharing good food and wine with friends, as well as hiking, biking, and of course skiing.  And, we love to dance.  We love the life we’ve made together and share with others.  After 25 years, we continue to have passion about life and living, and most important, about one another.  Our love has grown deeper and richer through all these years.  It’s been better than anything we could have imagined when we started on this journey and began to write and live a story together. 

It’s easy for many people to see gay men and lesbians as an abstraction – a court case, a statistic (including the estimated $641 billion in buying power we represent), and sometimes as the devil.  It’s easy for people to see us through a filter of stereotypes.  And when we are demonized, it’s harder for others to see us as real live bone-in-the-marrow human beings with hopes, dreams, and desires just like so many other people.  The more visible we are the more we will be seen as human beings – loving one another, raising children, working hard, contributing to the culture, etc.  However, there’s that Catch-22.  To be visible we must be out of the closet, but to be out of the closet can have extremely painful consequences.  And in fact, it may be foolish to do so because it’s simply not socially, economically, or physically safe in some places. 

Even if you’re not out in every aspect of your life, it’s probably easier to be out in larger metropolitan areas.  I’m reminded of that when my partner and I find ourselves in some small town in America’s heartland.  Instinctively, we scan the environment more intensely – censoring and monitoring how we fit in – as well as assessing how safe we are – and - if we need to pass.  With years of practice, you become an expert at doing this, although as I get older I find it somewhat tiresome.  I recently read a quote in which a gay person said he didn’t really belong to America because he moved from one gay island to another gay island - skipping over America’s heartland – moving from one large metropolitan area to another.  I think I sometimes feel guilty about this as my partner and I travel from Denver to New York to San Francisco to London, etc.  Feeling psychologically far removed by space and time from my beginnings, I sometimes wonder what’s happening in that small town in Southern Appalachia when I fly over on my way to one of those islands. 

(continued in Post #3)

[wtg02]

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My partner and I have talked about Brokeback Mountain a lot – rereading and discussing numerous parts of the story, screen play, and film – accompanied by many glasses of wine, and of course by many tears.  We are firm believers that all excellent artistic endeavors mediate a deeper understanding about ourselves and our world – about our common humanity – revealing some truths for a moment in time about our individual and collective lives.  For too long, we’ve had few artistic endeavors that have mirrored for gay men and lesbians our experiences in realistic ways.  This point is clearly driven home in the documentary film, The Celluloid Closet, a history of Hollywood’s portrayal of gays in film.  It’s easy to recognize in this film how so many generations of gay men and lesbians have internalized society’s homophobic script.  Portrayed as sissies to be laughed at, or self-loathing, desperate, tormented creatures to be pitied, or psychopathic killers to be feared, it’s little wonder that gays have felt like human beings who are flawed or shameful or unlovable.

However, we’ve been starved for images of ourselves in the larger culture.  I’ve asked friends if they can understand what it feels like to live in a culture that doesn’t mirror your experiences realistically, or in fact, live in a culture in which some people – even at the beginning of the 21st century – have called for images of gay people to be removed from books, television, and public discourse.  As many here have said, Will and Grace and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy don’t reflect who you are and how you live your life.  They merely perpetuate many of the old stereotypes.  Yet, how often have we watched that stereotypical television program or a mediocre movie for one crumb, one image of ourselves on that screen that may give us a glimmer of hope for a different world?

And finally, Hollywood gets it right with Brokeback Mountain.  Despite the tragedy of lost opportunities and unfulfilled lives, love and passion between two men are at last portrayed quite sensitively and realistically without the stereotypes.  It is here that I will cry.  Those tears are not just the ones that come from identifying with the aching pain and loss in BBM, but tears of joy that finally many others may see and hopefully understand a little better some of the pain caused by the culture.  With tears of joy, I also revel in seeing such passion between two men on that big screen.  Heath and Jake deserve much praise and many thanks.  And so, leaving that small town in Appalachia so many years ago, I’ve waited a long time for this film.  And like many of you, I can’t wait to have and treasure my own copy. 

I’ve been writing here about my experience as a gay man, my thoughts and feelings about BBM as a gay man.  However, there are many straight women who love this film, and have had reactions to it as deep as my own.  While I certainly can’t speak for straight women, or other gay people, one question emerged early in response to this film, “Is Brokeback Mountain a gay love story or a universal love story?”  I realize the answer is tricky for Focus Features because it has as much to do with marketing as it does with art and creativity.  However, for me, it’s both.  All excellent artistic endeavors mediate a deeper understanding of more universal truths about our common humanity.  The local mediates a deeper understanding of the universal.

It’s undoubtedly a love story between two men.  And while that story points to universal issues about forbidden love, passion, and lost opportunities, it also shines an intense spotlight on the social, cultural world we inhabit and the powerful influence that world has on the stories we write and live.  For example, when I saw BBM the second time, I tuned in more to the nuanced portrayals of Alma and Lureen, who were also victims.  While they were from different socio-economic classes, they too were bound by the culture’s interpretations regarding what it meant to be a woman, a wife, a mother, a homemaker, or a business woman in their part of the culture at that time.  Likewise, apart from the issue of straight women marrying an Ennis or Jack, my guess is that many women on this site can identify in the film with how the culture has defined you, how you’re expected to behave and feel.  Like those of us who are gay, you too may wrestle with that internalized cultural script fed to you, when in fact, you had hopes, dreams, and desires that were different.  Or, you accepted the script, but over the long haul have felt confined or unfulfilled, even though you did all the things the culture asked of you.  You may finally ask, “What is life all about?  Where has all the passion gone?”  The powerful influence of the culture on all of our lives raises questions not just for Ennis and Jack and the many closeted gay men across America they may symbolize, but for all men and women, gay or straight.  How do we live authentic lives?  How do we write and live our own stories within the larger cultural narrative?

Soon the awards will all be given, Brokeback Mountain will leave the big screen, the DVD will be released, and Hollywood will move on to the next big thing.  Many more straight men and women and closeted gay men and women will see this film.  This site has brought people together from across the planet, and the numbers keep growing.  It’s been a place in which many people have shared their stories openly for the first time.  Discovering others who share a similar story seems to have been immensely supportive.  With the release of the DVD, others will likely find their way here.  But what happens next?

Some people want a sequel to Brokeback Mountain, but that’s not likely to happen.  However, what occurred to me lately is that we are the sequel.  What happens next is what we do to bring many more of our stories to the larger culture, stories that make us real live human beings with dignity and personhood.  Yet, to become real we need a culture that recognizes that we exist – a culture that ceases to marginalize or dehumanize our existence - a culture that treats us fairly – a culture that will weave our stories into the tapestry of the larger cultural narrative.  What Brokeback Mountain has helped me see with such clarity is that we all need a culture that supports a social-psychological-emotional space in which we have the freedom to actualize our hopes, dreams, and desires.  But it’s going to take much more than one story or one film.  Brokeback Mountain is undoubtedly a touchstone, but is it that watershed moment I’ve waited so long for?

Annie Proulx said she hopes this film will start “conversations and discussions” that “awaken in people an empathy for diversity, for each other and the larger world.” Dianna Ossana believes that BBM is already “changing attitudes and starting a broader conversation about homosexual relationships and the nature of love.”  However, the fundamental question I’ve seen on this site that seems to go to the heart of the matter is, “Can art change reality?”  Ang Lee has said that movies do indeed have the power “to change the way we’re thinking.”  They hold the promise of renewal.  But can they change reality?  For me, implied in this question is a somewhat false distinction between fact and fiction.  It’s common in the West to make a sharp distinction between historical narratives and fictional narratives like Annie Proulx’s story.  Yet, the projection and actualization of possibilities most often begins in the human imagination as fiction.  The projection of possibilities is a dream of what could be.  The stories we write and live begin with a dream of what could be.  This reminds me of a quote by Strindberg I heard long ago in the film, Fanny and Alexander:  “. . . anything can happen.  Anything is possible.  Time and space do not exist.  On a flimsy ground of reality, imagination spins out and weaves new patterns.”  So excellent artistic endeavors are not just mirrors for who we are in the present, but they stretch the human imagination to that future horizon of possibilities.  Thus, Brokeback Mountain is a reflection of what is, as well as a symbol of what could be. 

Brokeback Mountain resonates so deeply because it compels us to bring our own lives into the story, and to ask the hard questions about where we are in life and where we want to go from here.  Many here have initiated changes in their lives.  Others are contemplating changes.  Likewise, the story and film have pushed me to think more deeply about change in my own life.  I’m currently working on a dissertation, but after seeing BBM, when I’m finished, I feel compelled to focus my life on bringing many more of our stories to the larger culture in an effort to raise consciousness (seems like such an old fashion idea in this age of marketing) and to push the boundaries of the social, cultural world we inhabit to make that social-psychological-emotional space ever-larger for all of us to actualize our hopes, dreams, and desires just like anybody else.

When BBM entered my life, I had no idea the impact it was going to have.  I had no idea in such a short time that I would be thinking about the rest of my life in the ways I have lately.  I can’t thank Annie, Larry, Dianna, Ang, Heath, Jake, Michelle, and Anne enough.  I also can’t thank the many of you here enough for sharing your stories and the many insightful comments.  Of course, I thank Dave Cullen and others for organizing this site.  And to you Dave, I personally thank you for your participant-observation inquiry regarding “don’t ask, don’t tell” and the military.  It’s quite illustrative of how culture defines, shapes, and constrains that closet, and the agonizing, disastrous emotional and moral impact that can have on people’s lives, both in and out of the military. 

So BBM has helped me appreciate the trajectory of my life, beginning so long ago in Southern Appalachia.  Despite the Brokeback experiences from my early years, and despite how cruel the culture can be, BBM has also helped me appreciate how enormously lucky I’ve been to share so openly such a deep abiding love with my partner. 

Many years ago I participated in a conflict resolution workshop.  After warming the group up, the facilitator began by asking the 30 people in the room to share how they got to that room from the day they were born.  I was a bit skeptical at first, as were many others, but what happened was absolutely amazing.  The people in the group came from many different places, many different walks of life.  While we all had our own individual stories to tell, what emerged was a story that we began to weave together as a group, a story about our common humanity.  It seems almost too cliché to say, but we were much more alike than different by the end of this process.  Similarly, on this site there are people from many different places, many different walks of life – different socio-economic groups, different educational experiences, different cultures, different life experiences, different places in relation to being in or out of the closet.  Yet, what I hear across this forum as this diverse group works its way through many iterations of disclosures and critical commentary about the story and film, about life and living – and along the way reaching out with such empathy to those in pain - is the weaving together as a group a meta-story with some range and depth about our common humanity, proclaiming our dignity and personhood, despite the repression and injustices in the larger culture.  And, with each comment and bit of information that many of you reveal about yourselves, I often wonder how you too got here from the day you were born. 

Since I started writing this, I’ve seen Brokeback Mountain for a fourth time.  What was strange is that as I headed toward the theater I felt somewhat uneasy.  I had this feeling that somehow the film would disappoint, that perhaps it would have lost it’s magic to resonate so deeply.  Yet, this wonderful visual narrative gradually drew me into the story, and by the time Ennis decided to enter the tent that second night, I cried with joy to see that sweet tender, yet passionate moment shared by two men on that big screen.  Nearly twenty years ago I had a similar feeling watching the film, Maurice, as Maurice at the end of the film rushes with much anticipation toward the boathouse.  He and Alec embraced and kissed with such tender passion, and Alec says, “Now we shan’t never be parted.  It is finished.”  Twenty years later, there are many moments in Brokeback Mountain that will be etched in my emotional memory forever:  the second night in the tent; the reunion kiss after four years; the reunion up on Brokeback after four years with Ennis laying on his back looking contentedly up at the stars; the heart-wrenching last time Ennis and Jack are together, juxtaposed to that recollection of their tender embrace back in 1963; Ennis visiting Jack’s parents and discovering the two shirts in Jack’s old room and his embracing those shirts ever so lovingly; and of course, those two shirts appearing again in the last scene as Ennis tears up and says, “Jack, I swear . . . .”  At my age, I hope I don’t have to wait twenty more years for another Brokeback Mountain.  For now, I do indeed believe, like many of you, that old Brokeback has got me good.

--Tom from Colorado at Hillside8200

[tfferg]

Jakkefin and Flying Tom
It's not too late, believe me. I say this from my experience.

Like you, I sort of gave up on the idea of finding a longterm partner while still hoping and wishing. After several relationships that didn't work out, I would impose a period of celibacy on myself to give myself time to grieve and get over it. I didn't want to make another mistake throough falling in love with somebody on the rebound. I put most of my energy into my work and I was able to do some good there.

Six years ago, because of a weird anomaly in the operation of the government superannuation scheme I belong to, like thousands of others of my age group, I left my permanent job at the age of 55. Since then I have worked in a number of temporary, short-term contract and sessional jobs and I have had more time for myself and the flexibility to move around and do different things.

I did fall in love again with a lovely guy, U,  I met overseas and travelled three times to spend a few weeks with him, thinking of how I could organise everything to live with him permanently. Just before the last time I arrived, he went out and met someone else and began spending more and more time with him, leaving me feeling rather like Ennis's Alma. Her face in BBM mirrored my feelings at the time so much that I felt for her as much as I did for Ennis and Jack. When my visa expired I went home. I was bereft but U had not made the break final, so I was in a kind of limbo. I spent time organising practical things that needed doing to my house.

About 10 months ago, I went back to U's country on a one-year visa and started work upcountry. I met him in the capital and he was honest enough to say that he was fully committed to my rival and so I was able to let him go. But this time, I decided life was too short to be celibate, so I went on weekends to a lovely sex-on-site venue in the capital and had a number of sexual encounters without expecting anything to develop from them. It doesn't mean that the encounters were meaningless. On the contrary, men here are open to emotion and some encounters have been tender and loving and extended beyond the venue and beyond sex. Many men here say they prefer an older partner and I am quite often cruised in the street or shopping centres.

One evening, I went into a dark space and got into heavy petting and kissing someone at length until we agreed to go to a private cabin together and we had a lovely time there, talking and getting to know each other in many senses of the word. Afterwards, we went out together to a show and dinner and P came back to my hotel and we spent the weekend together. We agreed to meet on subsequent weekends. He even drove upcountry to pick me up. He asked me to come and spend a weekend in what turned out to be a tiny one-room apartment in the outer suburbs of the capital.

On the agreed weekend, P came to get me. By that time, I had decided the job was not for me, so I packed my things to move to the city. P took me home and put all my luggage in his room and then took me to meet his older brother over dinner at a restaurant. We've been together ever since, with the knowledge and acceptance of his parents, brothers and sisters and their families. His older brother helped me to find another job. His father in the village on father's day joined our hands together in what felt like a hand-fasting rite.

Very early in our relationship, P said he was in love with me and wanted our relationship to continue until he died. I felt very loving toward him, but wondered how long he would feel that way and what would happen when he got to know me warts and all and the limerance wore off. Well, it hasn't yet - I know it's still early days, but it's the longest time I've lived with a lover continuously without them changing their mind. I find I want to be with him all the time and I hurry home from work to be with him or wait for him to come home from his work and he does the same.

Curiously, I remember that I had met P before at the s-o-s venue two or three years ago, though I can't recall what happened if anything. I don't think I had a sexual encounter with him and he didn't strike me as my type or one of my types. At the time, I may have been involved with someone else and I may have given him my address in an attempt to fob him off politely at the particular moment. Some weeks or months later he did write to me in my country enclosing some photos that were too tiny to make him out very well. I think I replied in what I hoped was a tactfully non-committal way.

We saw BBM together a couple of weeks ago. P was very moved by it and has discussed it in ways he hasn't done about other films we've seen together. This is not a homophobic country on the whole (though it is not the gay paradise it is sometimes described as either) and so he was shocked by the evidence of US homophobia. However, the film did make him recall the loneliness of growing up gay in a rural village, not understanding what was happening to him and being afraid of his future. He only recently found out by accident of the existence of places where gays can meet here and he's 44 - it must have been not very long before the first time we met. 'Brokeback' has become part of his vocabulary.

I do hope there's a way that we can continue to live together - it's a question of visas and work permits and so on.

So, to all my BBM friends, hang in there!
Cheers
Tony

[cyoung]

Like those of us who are gay, you too may wrestle with that internalized cultural script fed to you, when in fact, you had hopes, dreams, and desires that were different.  Or, you accepted the script, but over the long haul have felt confined or unfulfilled, even though you did all the things the culture asked of you.  You may finally ask, “What is life all about?  Where has all the passion gone?”  The powerful influence of the culture on all of our lives raises questions not just for Ennis and Jack and the many closeted gay men across America they may symbolize, but for all men and women, gay or straight.  How do we live authentic lives?  How do we write and live our own stories within the larger cultural narrative?

Your entire story is beautiful and thought-provoking, and this part above echoes my own feelings exactly.

Thank you.

Cara

[tfferg]

Tom from Colorado
Your long post is very far from being an interruption. I feel it is a great resume of so much that has been expressed in this forum as well as detailing your inspiring individual experience and responses and I thank you that.
Your remark that we are the sequel strikes a chord in me. Yes, indeed, we are!
When you spoke of a follow-up action when you finish your dissertation, I thought of a suggestion that has been made here a number of times: making a book of this forum. Your writing seems to me to indicate that you have the writing skill and the depth and breadth of understanding connections ('Only connect.') to have a go at such a exciting if formidable project.
All the best
Tony

[Joetheone]

Tom I was amazed by how well you put everything.  Yes, I agree totally I do think this is what hit me so hard.  Although I have been what I call out of the closet since I was 17.  I never felt really out because I had to put up the fake side at times when appropriate and growing up in a small town myself I know what you are saying.  I recently had come out to my senior class in their attempt to coax me to come to my 20th class reunion but did not attend because I felt so uncomfortable.  But on their web page I told them my story and saga over these past 20 years away from them.  I got a lot of very nice replies and a few hateful ones but overall was more impressed by the majority being so caring.  I was supposed to be the leader for the class reunions being the class president and all and have never fulfilled any of those duties due to who I am.  I agree we need to step up and show the world we are not the Jack McFarlands and not the queer as folk and not the Queer Eye for the straight guy types.  We are human beings of all different styles and quirks.  We all don't wear prada and abercrombie we all don't do hair and wear makeup we are all different and we are evrywhere but people only see that in gay men.  I'm going to continue in myh own small way to make people aware of this fact in the future and hopefully yes we can finally see a change.  Joe

[bradINblue]

Ignorance and fanaticism are a deadly combination.  Fundamentalist belief systems of any persuasion seem to suck the oxygen out of the air, stunting the growth of the kind of diversity required for a rich, vibrant, flourishing, creative culture.  But most important, such systems of belief suppress or shut down the human imagination. 

and the rest of the post


Tom of Colorado. Yes. Yes. Yes. Our stories are the guiding light and the hope and the inspiration. Shake off that which is not us--that which cannot be stereotyped. We are as human. We are as caring. We long for that which is simple and fullfilling and lifelong. Another example of overcoming what seems impossible. Tears of joy for you and yours.

brad

[chamego]

I watched the movie with my companion and lover of almost 23 years, living together for 22 years. There is just a slight similarity with the situation depicted in the movie. We get along wonderfully with each other families, despite the fact that he has been in the verge of marrying in his youth and I had a marriage of 20 years and 8 wonderfull children, now men and women with their own children. Of course we had to struggle and fight on the beginning, but mostly within ourselves and here, is the only possible resemblance.
However, we left the theater in a complete silence and drove to our home, unable to speak a single word, because if someone start to say a simple word, we were sure that both would start to cry without control. We stay in a kind of daze or stupor. Later on, probably after some deep emotional strength, we exchanged a few words, watch TV, ate something, went to bed and, after a night of suffering and anguish, on the next day we talk about the movie and the extraordinary impact it had on both.
I think that our bond with each other had become stronger and better persons, thinking of so many people who spend their lifes hiding inside themselves, concealing their feelings, not being able to let them breath and live what all their beeings are longging for.
I still feel a strange emptiness, like other pople said.
Thanks for so deep posts and thanks to this site and its author.

[Poohbunn]

I recently received my Master's degree in Theology from a Catholic College. It is no secret that the Church frowns upon gay relationships.  Though I try to live by the teachings of the Church, I never could wrap my head around the idea that a person could control who they fall in love with.  Seeing this movie (twice in one week) solidified my conviction that I have to work hard to eliminate what seems like a prejudice.  The disharmony within my spiritual self has left me in tears for two weeks now. 

I hope someone out there reads this and knows that there are some of us who really feel pain because of our affiliation with those who cause pain to people in gay relationships.  People are people, love is love, and there's nothing we can do about it except to warmly embrace each other.

Debi

[gnash]

I recently received my Master's degree in Theology from a Catholic College. ... People are people, love is love, and there's nothing we can do about it except to warmly embrace each other.

Debi

debi, your declaration of working toward the end of prejudice and striving to make the world a better place is wonderful to read, and i'm glad that BBM helped to solidify your stance on the subject. i'm sorry to hear you're in tears over all this, but i'm sure they will strengthen your bond with both god and yourself regarding this matter. i can relate to your pain, yet it gives me great joy to know that you are able to tell people, on this forum, how you feel about things. what you say about people being people is so heartfelt.

what strikes me about (my perceptions of) the catholic church is the hypocrisy that abounds. i met a fellow at a gay bar once, severely depressed. he was as cute as can be, but was just short of sitting there with tears running down his face. we began a conversation and he told me he'd just quit school that day, a catholic seminary school. he told me it was because nobody could keep his hands off of him, he'd started school in the midwest and was constantly harassed, sexually, by other students in the dorms.

when he went to seek help in the matter, the older teachers came onto him as well, telling him to "just go with it." so, he transferred schools, moving from the chicago area other schools further west, transferring again and again because of the same problem, until finally at the west coast he made his final stop at a seminary in the east bay. again, the same problems arose. the hands the crept under his sheets at night, and the hands of the teachers attempted to "soothe" him when he wanted help with the matter. even the the head of the school assured him that it was okay, he just needed to adjust, and maybe they should "talk about it in private" ... wink wink.

the guy kept saying he wasn't gay... so i asked him why he was there, at a gay bar. he said he had no friends, and he was there with father tom and father bill. he pointed them out to me... i was astonished. he pointed out two guys in levis, tight t shirts, buzz cut hair and mustaches. clones, in the current gay reality of the day. THOSE GUYS!? i asked him, and he said yeah. i told him those guys were there every weekend, like clockwork, dancing and drinking at the gay bar. he shrugged and said, "well, they're gay."

whatever happened to honesty? i mean, okay, jim baker the televangelist was a liar and a cheat and had sex on the side -- no surprise... but the story this kid told amazed me. i had no idea the homosexuality in the catholic church was so rampant.

more recently, when i visited my parents in michigan, we went to a saturday night church social -- spaghetti pot luck type of thing. huge crowd, and lots of family, lots of children running around. i saw a man that just "looked" gay, and pointed him out to my sister. i said, "look at that guy, he's gay, don't you think?" my sister, not a member of the church, said yes and agreed. the guy just LOOKED gay, if you can understand that. i dunno, our gaydar went off into the red zone. my dad saw who we were looking at and we asked him who the guy was and he said, "oh! that's father gary." 

i asked my father, "dad, do you think he's gay?" and he said "sure as butter melts" or something like that. he said he knew, or at least suspected, and shrugged his shoulders... again, i was amazed. (to be honest, he looked alot like christopher lowell and had the similar mannerisms in speech and body language.)

later, after dessert, i had a chance to talk to the guy, and he knew from my father that i was visiting from california. he said "san francisco" with a glint in his eye, but i corrected him and said, "berkeley." he said that he hoped to see me the next day at church services, and i bluntly told him that i didn't think it was a good idea since i was gay, and asked, "doesn't the church frown upon homosexuality?"

there was a lull in the conversation, and he smiled a bit, raising his eyebrows in surprise. but he recovered... he said that the catholic church of "today" was much more open, and that they didn't concentrate on the sins of homosexuality. he was actually pretty frank and open about the subject, but he did seem to hedge a bit. then, some children came around and shouted "father gary! father gary!" grabbing him in hugs. so, our conversation ended.

i'm left wondering what the heck is going on with the catholic church, between the straight guy's story about his nightmarish experiences at the seminary schools, to this apparently gay priest in my father's parish. is catholicism a mecca for gay men these days? do you know of closeted gay men or women in your parish or in your catholic school? is it okay for priests to have sex, is there a "don't ask, don't tell" type of agreement going on?

i won't go into gays in the military -- gosh, half the guys i dated in my college days were either sailors or marines... at least there's not an oath to "god" or anything like that in the military... let's just say when the fleet was in town, the local gay bars were a bit more crowded on those weekends... i'm sure father tom and father bill had their hands full.

[alma]

I recently received my Master's degree in Theology from a Catholic College. It is no secret that the Church frowns upon gay relationships.  Though I try to live by the teachings of the Church, I never could wrap my head around the idea that a person could control who they fall in love with.  Seeing this movie (twice in one week) solidified my conviction that I have to work hard to eliminate what seems like a prejudice.  The disharmony within my spiritual self has left me in tears for two weeks now. 

I hope someone out there reads this and knows that there are some of us who really feel pain because of our affiliation with those who cause pain to people in gay relationships.  People are people, love is love, and there's nothing we can do about it except to warmly embrace each other.

Debi

Hi Debi!

You might be my soul sister. I'm in the middle of a theology MA at a Catholic university and have come to the identical conclusion.

Welcome.

[DaveinPhilly]

I recently received my Master's degree in Theology from a Catholic College. It is no secret that the Church frowns upon gay relationships.  Though I try to live by the teachings of the Church, I never could wrap my head around the idea that a person could control who they fall in love with.  Seeing this movie (twice in one week) solidified my conviction that I have to work hard to eliminate what seems like a prejudice.  The disharmony within my spiritual self has left me in tears for two weeks now. 

I hope someone out there reads this and knows that there are some of us who really feel pain because of our affiliation with those who cause pain to people in gay relationships.  People are people, love is love, and there's nothing we can do about it except to warmly embrace each other.

Debi

Sister your voice is beautiful. Thanks for telling your story. You rightly point out that each individual cannot be held responsible for the wrong mindedness of a religious organization. It's the heart of the matter that is important. Reaching out your loving heart is a way of healing those wounds.
DaveinPhilly