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- Herausgeber: Biteback Publishing
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
When Matthew Todd, editor of the bestselling gay lifestyle magazine Attitude, approached broadcaster and political pundit Iain Dale asking him to write a monthly column for the publication, Dale did not have to think twice about his answer. That was back in early 2013 and, since then, Dale has written over twenty columns - or 'gay shorts' - on a variety of subjects appealing to Attitude's readership and beyond. Although initially brought on board to bring more politics to the magazine than its usual contributors, Dale's columns have strayed well beyond the realms of his briefing. Ranging from the emotional and personal to the humorous and sarcastic, his writing is always thought-provoking and entertaining. Now, in one accessible volume, comes a compilation of Dale's best pieces in this fantastic magazine. If you've never read Attitude before, here is all the encouragement you need to take out a subscription!
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
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GAY SHORTS
IAIN DALE
Contents
Introduction
‘Would you like to write a monthly column for us?’ That was the easily answered question put to me by Matthew Todd, editor of the bestselling monthly gay lifestyle magazine Attitude back in early 2013. Since then I have written twenty or so columns on a huge variety of subjects I thought would be of interest to Attitude readers. Matthew explained that he didn’t feel the magazine had enough politics in it, especially from a right-of-centre perspective, and he also wanted to hear from someone ‘older’ than their usual contributors. Thanks, Matthew. You know how to make a boy feel special…
I have strayed well beyond the realms of politics in these columns, as you will read. Some of them have been quite emotional to write, and maybe read, and others have been deliberately sarcastic or humorous.
If you’ve never read Attitude before, do take out a subscription. It’s a fantastic magazine with a growing appeal.
Iain Dale
Norfolk, January 2015
Coming out and why Christmases are difficult
I have been with my partner for eighteen years and yet, until last year, we had never spent a Christmas together. I had always gone to my parents’ in Essex and he to his parents’ in Kent. In later years, he’d make an escape and join me at my parents’ in the evening, but neither of us found it satisfactory.
Why then did we do it? Simple. Because both of us feared that the very year we chose to spend Christmas together would be followed by the death of one of our parents. Irrational, maybe, but one year we would have been right.
This is not something unique to gay couples, of course. Yet, for many gay couples, Christmas can be a time when tricky choices have to be made, especially by those who haven’t come out to their parents. And, even in these enlightened days, there are still many gay people who find that particular conversation difficult to have.
I had that conversation at the ripe old age of forty. My parents had known my partner for five or six years and he often joined me for the weekend at their home. But the penny hadn’t dropped. He was my friend and they liked him very much. But the fact that he was more than that never seemed to click with them. By way of contrast, my partner came out to his parents at the age of sixteen and didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t prepared to rock the parental boat. He was right, of course. I was being a coward.
But when I decided to try to be a Tory MP, I decided that I had to tell my parents I was gay. Everyone in Westminster knew, but I didn’t want the parents reading about it in the Daily Telegraph or one of their friends saying something inopportune. I decided to do it when I reached the second round of a parliamentary selection – possibly not the best or most courageous criterion to use to come out. I remember that drive round the M25 and up the M11 as if it were yesterday. I rehearsed in my mind what I would say, but nothing ever seemed right. Everyone kept saying to me: ‘Don’t worry, it won’t come as a surprise to them. They must know.’ I doubted that very much. After all, I knew my parents, and they didn’t.
My dad is always good in a crisis. He is a man of few words, but I was fairly confident he would be OK. My mother was the sweetest and most kindly woman in the world but I sensed it would be more difficult for her. I won’t go into the details of the conversation but it wasn’t an easy one. There was incomprehension, bemusement and a degree of horror. I explained that John was much more than a friend, that I loved him very deeply and I hoped they could bring themselves to accept that. My dad gave me a hug but my mum just had a far-away look on her face.
But all was well that ended well. They continued to welcome John into their home, came to treat him as a son-in-law and both came to our civil partnership in 2008. However, the subject of my gayness was never spoken of again. My mother died last June. I loved her with all my heart but, in my soul, I know how much I hurt her. But, in the end, we can’t live our lives for other people, no matter how much we love them. We have to be true to ourselves. That’s not being selfish, it’s being honest.
I suspect Christmas is a time when lots of gay people come out to their parents. Is it the best time to do it? Probably not, but for many people there is never a good time and the longer you leave it, the more difficult it can get. Attitudes have changed over the generations, but, for some people, it will never be easy.
Last year was the first year I spent a full Christmas Day with John, but I spent most of it in bed with flu. This year we’ll be in our new home in Norfolk with only the dogs for company. And a Christmas tree. Happy Christmas!
Choosing to be gay
I’ve always known I was gay. Well, when I say ‘always’, I mean I knew I was different to other boys almost from the age of seven or eight. I have absolutely no doubt that I was born gay, yet I find it bizarre that some find that difficult to accept. There are still misguided souls who believe that people choose to be gay.
Well, perhaps we gayers play up to that a little nowadays. After all, legend has it we have the best music, we’re better looking (I exclude myself!), we have the best fashion and we have better skin (I don’t exclude myself from that one). But it wasn’t always like that.
People who believe we all choose to be gay should think back to when I was growing up in the 1970s. Homosexuality wasn’t illegal, but it might as well have been. Being raised in a small village in Essex meant conformity to a relatively conservative rural lifestyle. I loved my childhood and wouldn’t change it for a minute, but it did mean hiding a part of who I was, even from those closest to me. To have come out would have been unthinkable.
To most people, homosexuality came in the form of John Inman and Larry Grayson. It meant camp cries of ‘shut that door’ or ‘I’m free’. It meant furtive fumbles in public toilets. In short, it was seen as a perversion, which few were willing to even try to understand or empathise with. Why you would have chosen to be a homosexual in those days is anyone’s guess.
Today, it is very different. In some ways, it’s cool to be gay, so, for some of our more bigoted members of society, you can sort of understand why they really believe it is a lifestyle choice.
Believe me, I am very comfortable in my own skin – as I am sure most Attitude readers are. Were I now given the choice of being straight, I wouldn’t take it. But I suspect most of us, if we really examined ourselves deeply, might have given a different answer at the age of fifteen.
Because life is undeniably easier if you’re straight.
In some jobs being gay is still a big no-no. Gay people still suffer from discrimination, especially outside metropolitan areas. Being gay in some religions can lead to excommunication and total exclusion from one’s family. From a personal viewpoint, I have absolutely no doubt I would now be a Member of Parliament were it not for the fact that I was/am gay, and didn’t mind who knew it.
On my LBC show, I had a caller recently who told me she detested the ‘gay act’ and it was terrible that people should choose this lifestyle. She clearly hadn’t got a clue, poor love, who she was talking to. So, in my usual loving, caring way I gently pointed out to take it from one who knows, that being gay wasn’t a choice. You were born like it. She still didn’t click.
‘I knew I was gay at the age of seven,’ I then said. There followed an awkward two-second silence, which, on the radio, sounds like two minutes. Whether I provoked her to examine her own prejudices I have no idea.
And then, on Eurovision night, it all started again – this time on Twitter. A fellow West Ham fan called Brian – someone who clearly believed it’s not possible to be gay and shout ‘Come On You Irons’ every fortnight – told me that ‘nature, history and religion are against you … it is nurture and environment andperverse thinking’. Thanks for that. He continued: ‘Our minds are malleable and can be turned.’ Speak for yourself, mate. And, finally, came this little gem: ‘We are all born heterosexual and get influenced to be gay in our twisted minds.’ When I asked him if, as a straight man, he could be turned, strangely, I didn’t get an answer.
You may think it bizarre, but I don’t regard people like my LBC caller and Brian as homophobic. I just think they’re scared because they think that we’ve all chosen to become gay, they think we could persuade their kids to turn gay too. You might think it laughable, and it is, but it’s up to us to show that being gay is nothing for them to fear. As the brilliant E4 sitcom says: it’sThe New Normal.
The gay stereotype
I don’t know about you, but I find it incredibly frustrating that the old gay stereotypes still remain, and, from what I can work out, they probably always will. We’re all incredibly camp, have lots of facial and stomach hair, and probably sleep with any other male that shows a vague interest. Oh, and we’re all incapable of being in a relationship without sleeping with other men, we have an unhealthy interest in Shirley Bassey, we all boogie away in nightclubs with our shirts off and white powder up our noses, and we spend our evenings engaging in orgies or feasting our eyes on gay porn.
