A few weeks ago my family received the news of my brother’s engagement.
I have always found it frustrating having to point out the obvious so it is rare you will ever actually hear me explaining my brother’s sexuality.
I figure, I never tell people I am heterosexual upon introducing myself, so why should I reveal my brother’s status whenever his name comes up in conversation? I am often asked whether I have any nieces or nephews. My response is usually a simple ‘no’ but on the odd occasion I find myself caught in a web of ‘no…my brother’s not married…’
A voice inside my head asks ‘does your brother need to be married to have children?’ And then ‘even if your brother were married would it necessarily imply he has children?’ These benign thoughts and more flutter through my head more often than you might realise. Because people ask a lot of stupid questions, and sometimes I find myself replying in embarrassingly similar ways. It’s often simply to make polite conversation.
My daughter in particular was thrilled with my brother’s announcement. She comes across as reserved at first but it’s only because she is planning her next move. She usually prefers to display her love and excitement with a physical hand-made gift. I could see her mind racing.
‘I’ll make eggs’ she announced. ‘Eggs?’ I asked. ‘For the party…people will want to eat and I can make them eggs – scrambled, or maybe omelettes’. ‘Ok’, I said, happy to appease her enthusiasm.
When it was decided that there would be a small gathering to celebrate the news I had to break it to my daughter that unfortunately eggs could not be on the menu. Aside from the part where I wouldn’t be able to cope with bits of egg shell all over the place, a regular afternoon tea felt much more doable from my perspective. So Mika began thinking.
On the day of the party I watched as she ran around, still trying to figure out what she could contribute. She was not going to rest until she had thought of the perfect hand-made gift. As the time passed we were all so busy with our own little setting-up jobs that we hadn’t realised the unintentional brilliance of her final idea until the guests had already arrived.
My little girl had placed rainbow chains, made with cut-up coloured pieces of card and stuck together with sticky tape, all around our living room.
It was only once most people had left that it occurred to me: these rainbows were completely and beautifully incidental. Growing up with a gay uncle means that homosexuality has never been reduced to pretty rainbows for her. So when I exclaimed ‘oh my goodness you made rainbows!!’ she had no idea what my excitement was based on and gave me a confused look in return. ‘I thought they would be colourful’ she replied. At that moment I felt so grateful that her understanding of how the world works is so profound that she doesn’t need reductive explanations or insulting definitions. I also felt a little superficial and silly.
At a time when the stupid noise of news threatens to drown out the clever thoughts of the future leaders of this nation we live in, it will clearly take more than rainbow chains to make people see. For now, my confidence is restored in the actions and words of so many children all around me, who thankfully do not understand the premise our postal vote is based on. Too young to execute their opinions, we need to do it for them.
wordsetcetera 