Pa was in the Air Force during the Vietnam War. To this day, I think his favorite things in life are guns and flying. One day when Pa had a few too many beers, he started mumbling about, “Homosexuals…Unnatural…Sinners”. I knew Pa was a hate filled homophobe but I never had the background information. I was a curious twelve year old so I decided to ask Pa about why he felt that way. He told me he had a good friend, Gavin, who he met in ‘Nam. Pa grew close to Gavin until years later, after the war; he told Pa that he was gay. Pa felt betrayed and that Gavin was being dishonest with him. Pa said many hurtful things to Gavin before refusing to see him ever again.

Pa acts like he’s from the south; but he’s not. Pa’s actually a Yankee, born and raised. Pa tells stories of his Catholic upbringing in New Hampshire, parochial school, and his torturing of nuns. After the war, Pa met Ma. They got married and eventually had Mom.

I’m sitting up as straight as a board when Pa groans and starts to get up out of his chair. I gulp and prepare for hell. Spur of the moment, I close my eyes and act like I am sleeping on the couch. Then…

“What the hell is this? Sinners!” Pa yells. I try to keep my composure and hold in my laughter, as Pa fumbles around like a chicken with its head cut off. I think he’s trying to find the controller to turn the T.V. off. I hand him the controller and act innocent as I look at him, furrowing my eyebrows and looking at him questionably.

“Damn Showtime,” Pa mutters. “I knew we shouldn’t have been getting these ‘porno’ channels just for Daystar.” Daystar is a Christian T.V. station. I know, ew.

My older sister, Victoria, comes into the room and immediately checks on Pa who is pacing around the room. Victoria…I hate to say that I hate her, but I do. She’s so perfect. She’s smarter than me, blonder than me, nicer than me…but more about her later.

Of course, she calms him right down and returns to her room to ‘do’ whatever she ‘does’. She’s probably brushing her hair thousands of times like Marcia from the Brady Brunch. Suddenly Pa is staring right at me and I’m staring right back. He grabs his keys and starts walking towards the door. I follow him out to the car as I wonder why I agreed to do this earlier in the day.

I’ve barely even climbed into the car before the lecture begins. Pa looks over my clothes. To me, it’s just a hoodie and jeans; to him, who knows? I immediately regret coming for the ride and my choice of attire for the day. I know Pa wants me to just be a good Southern girl and put on a cute dress for the short trip. But that’s not me, if he wanted that he should have took Victoria. Pa wants me to impress the new girlfriend, who apparently is a good Southern girl from Alabama.

Luckily this is only a twenty minute ride because less than one minute has passed and I’m already tired of this. “Why did you wear a hoodie? Don’t you remember what I told you about those? Only those blacks (he said a much worse word here but I refuse to write or speak it) wear those, looking like hoodlums. Do you want to send that message?”

He thinks we have a good relationship. I laugh at his sick jokes and let him control me. He thinks I look up to him and value his opinions but he could not be more wrong. I despise him.

“No sir,” I reply. For Victoria, or even my Mom and Dad this state of mind will be accepted blindly. Not even thought about. But for me, I can barely tolerate it. I have to remind myself constantly to keep my mouth shut and eventually I will break away from all of this. For some this might be okay, the homophobia, racism and over all ignorance. But I can’t. I cannot live by my Pa’s controlling behavior forever. I never planned to break any of his rules but I already have unknowingly, just by being myself.

I, Spencer Carlin, represent my Pa’s worst nightmares, just by labeling myself with one word. Gay.