VIII
You, who are on the road Teach your children well Don't you ever ask them Why And you, of tender years
Must have a code
That you can live by
And so become yourself
Because the past is just a goodbye
Their father's hell
Did slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick's the one you'll know by
If they told you, you would cry
So, just look at them and sigh
And know they love you
(Can you hear and do you care)
Can't know the fears
(And can't you see)
That your elders grew by
(We must be free)
And so please help them with your youth
(To teach your children)
They seek the truth
(What you believe in)
Before they can die
(Make a world that we can live in)
Teach your parents well. Don't you ever ask them, "Why?"
Their children's hell
Will slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams.
The one they pick's the one you'll know by.
If they told you, you would cry.
So, just look at them and sigh
And know they love you
Teach Your Children, Crosby, Stills, And Nash
Natalie's Editor at The Denver Post, Rachel Schofield stopped by the young reporter's desk at the end of a workday, which happened to be a Monday. Natalie Green had taken pride in her recent Editorial on how unfairly law treated same-sex and unmarried couples when it came to divulging medical information about a loved one. Yet for the first time in her life, Natalie was facing a backlash for her views.
To be sure, Natalie's piece had been picked up by daily newspapers all around the country and republished. There had been a movement to advocate for same-sex couples for years, but had little success in changing the public's mind, and more importantly, the politician's mind, about giving a sympathetic ear to people that much of the world considered, at best, misfits, at worst, well, Natalie didn't want to think about that.
Yet she had to. Readers to The Post a lot to say about her story, as did letters to the editor at other papers as well. There had been many supportive, positive statement from a lot of readers, even phone calls to personal line at the paper for broaching the sensitive subject. But in America, even in October of 2002, the overwhelming sentiment was to ignore the injustice that had been done to women like Jo Polniaczek.
Some of the letters and calls in opposition were respectful, many pointing out simply that it wasn't time to push this issue. Many others, however, were filled with visceral hate, not just for Natalie, but for all the "fags, dykes, and queers", as one caller screamed into her answering machine, for daring to think they should be seen as anything less than abominations against God's creation. Most weren't as rabid as that caller, but the letters and calls, for the most part, were that same-sex couples should basically have no rights.
Natalie had been depressed since the response had begun to come in on her missive. Rachel had noticed it, and despite Natalie's mood, smiled to herself. How many times had she seen a bright young reporter, full of energy and idealism, come up against a wall of stubbornness and obstinance. She had gone through the same thing as a young reporter, and felt like she had been hit with a punch in the gut.
"Not fun seeing and hearing such ignorance, is it Nat?" Rachel had strolled up to Natalie's desk while the woman was deep in thought.
Natalie gave a resentful snort of disgust. "That's putting it mildly." She looked closely at her boss. "From the smile you're tryin' to hide, I'd say I'm not the first, nor will I be the last to feel this way after pouring my soul into a piece?"
Rachel nodded. "It comes with the territory, Natalie", she said in affirmation. "Yet I try to tell writers that there's a lot of good news when they receive the type of responses you've received."
"Right", Natalie said with another snicker, "it's so nice to be called a 'dyke-lover', and other unprintable's over the phone."
"It means that you struck a chord with your readers, be it good or bad. I've read the positive feedback you've received, and I can imagine some of the more...vitriolic negative ones as well. I've had more than my share of reactions to Editorials I've put out under my byline."
"So you're saying that the old adage that 'there's no such thing as bad publicity', is true? That even the ones I've set off are a positive?"
"Pretty much", Rachel said with a shrug of her shoulders. "If no one responds, you haven't touched them in a personal way, Nat. But you've touched something in people. You aren't the first to write about this subject, and you won't be the last."
Rachel sat down on the corner of Natalie's desk. "Look, I don't publicize this much, but my sister Rebecca is a lesbian. She's been in a long-term relationship for going on twenty-five years with the same woman. Close friends and family know, and are mostly accepting of Rebecca and Sheryl, but they keep it quiet beyond that. Like your friends Jo and Blair, they have a child-two in fact, and they're wonderful, well-adjusted teenagers at this stage in life."
"I know there's far more people who aren't straight than anyone truly thinks, Rachel", Natalie noted, "but can't those who get so mad about it see how unfair it is, what Jo, Blair, your sister, and her partner have gone through? I'm as Jewish as they come, but one of the great religious lines of all times is Jesus in the New Testament. I think it goes 'I give a new commandment to you, to love one another. As I have loved you, so you should love each other',or something to that effect."
Rachel nodded. "John 13:34", she confirmed. "And you're right, Natalie, how hard is it to simply love each other, to accept each other for who we are?" She stopped, then answered her own question. "It must be damn hard because it's been argued about since the dawn of time. What I'm trying to make you understand", she concluded, "is that don't lose that passion and what you believe in because of the bullies out there. They're insecure people in so many ways. Keep believing what you believe, and you'll be a better writer for it."
Natalie considered that. "Thanks, Rachel", she said kindly. "I've been kind of down in the dumps for a couple of days over this."
Rachel looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Kind of?" She couldn't help but snicker.
"Okay, okay, very much in the dumps, but that gives me better perspective. I appreciate it."
Rachel nodded and walked away, again very happy that she had hired this young women.
October 26, 2002
With the exception of Dwight Freeman and his girlfriend, everyone was at the rented home for Jo and DC in Peekskill. It was a day for celebration, tinged with sadness.
David Charles Warner was one year old this day. Yet his Mama Blair, who had given birth to him a year ago, still lay in a coma, although she was showing signs of coming out of her long slumber.
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday, dear David
(with some saying DC)
Happy Birthday to you!
David simply looked around in bewilderment, probably thinking this crazy group has finally gone off the deep end, or however a 1 year old could organize such thoughts. He had no idea that he was a year old, or how to blow out a candle, so Mama Jo did the honors for him, DC making everyone laugh by pursing his lips after the candles were blown out, perhaps getting the idea a little too late.
With that, the first piece of the yellow cake with chocolate fudge icing was put in front of David, most of it soon to be everywhere but in his mouth. While his Grandma Warner tried to help get more cake into him than on him, Jo circulated among the guests.
Her parents were talking to Richard and his girlfriend, when she asked her friend if he could borrow his parents for a few moments.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Rose had just taken a bite of the cake, so Charlie answered. "Absolutely, sweetheart", he said with a broad smile. "First birthday of my first grandson? Can't beat it." Charlie looked down at the cake after taking his own bite. "This cake is fantastic, who made it?"
Jo gave her father a death-glare, the man holding up his hands in mock surrender and laughing. "You get a mulligan for that, Pa, but no more jokes about my cake."
"It's really, really good, Jo", Rose chimed in, making Jo smile.
"See? That's how you do it, Pa. Always say 'yes, dear', to the woman, and your life will be easy." Charlie almost choked on another bite cake, laughing loudly.
Rose pulled Jo aside. "I know you're having a good time, dear, but I know it's a tough day for you in some ways. Can I do anything for you?"
Jo shook her head. "No, Ma, you're already doing it by being here, watching your grandson turn one." Jo gave a small, weathered smile. "I sure hope every year he's on this Earth isn't this...exciting, if you know what I mean."
"Amen to that, Jo", Rose said softly. "I truly feel that this time next year, both his Mama's will be next to him, blowing out his candles with him."
Jo sighed, as the same thought had been rolling through her mind all day. "Amen right back atcha, Ma. Amen."
The party went on for some time, everyone enjoying something to celebrate, taking their mind, at least momentarily, off of David's biological mother, who lay in the hospital a few minutes away. It was a necessary, cathartic moment for all of them, most especially for Jo, who had borne the brunt of this impossible situation with as much grace and dignity as she could muster.
Charlie and Rose were talking between themselves when Monica Warner approached them from one side. Charlie, always the gentleman, spoke up first.
"Can I get you anything, Monica?"
"No, Charlie, thank you, I was actually coming over to talk to both of you, if that is acceptable?"
The Polniaczek's looked at each other, trying not to look surprised. Charlie did notice that Monica's drink-all drinks were non-alcoholic at this event-was running low. "At least let me refresh your drink? I insist."
Monica gave him a warm smile. "Thank you, Mr. Polniaczek", she said graciously. "It is most appreciated."
Charlie was back in moments, also with a fresh drink for his ex-wife, now his live-in lover. "Here ya go, ladies."
Both of them nodded. "What can I do for you, Monica?" Rose's voice did sound a little unsure.
"I can tell you first of all, what I'm about to say doesn't come easily to me, so if I falter, I apologize ahead of time." Charlie and Rose didn't quite know how to take that. "It's no secret that Jo and I have never gotten along very well over the years. That's entirely my fault, you see", she explained to Jo's parents. "If you don't mind, I want to tell you something that Edna and I witnessed not too long ago, and how it's helped me start to change in regards to your daughter."
Monica told her the story about the two women seeing Jo watching a video of she and Blair singing happily, kissing sweetly afterward, then breaking out into hysterical laughter. She then told them of how, after the video, Jo, without knowing they were there, and literally broke down talking to Blair in her bed. She informed them of how Jo had been nothing but civil to her since the day Blair was injured.
"I guess I had never seen that side of Joanna", Monica admitted. "By the time Edna and I left the hospital room, we both had tears in our eyes. What I saw there was a young women in so much pain, but with so much hope in her voice, even with the pain. I've seen a woman play with her son, and give him everything that she has despite the love of her life being so badly injured. I've seen a caring, thoughtful, loving human being. Maybe had I stopped to smell the roses, as it were, many years ago, I would have seen that."
She stepped up to both of them, putting a gentle hand on one of their arms. "I just wanted to know that, despite everything that transpired years ago, I must say that you've been wonderful parents to Joanna-far better than I ever have been to Blair and Bailey."
With that, Monica Warner walked away, leaving the two elder Polniaczek's utterly speechless.