Holey, Wholly, Holy

I remember the year I went from accepted to outsider. It was third grade when Jenny moved to town. She was different. Her clothes didn’t fit and she was a little awkward around other children. I loved her. She was quirky and had a wonderful sense of humor. I grew closer to her as other kids started to pick on her. And then they began to pick on me.

That’s when I started to live more in my own world. I would spend hours on the swing set going on grand adventures talking to my imaginary friends who would never ridicule me, no matter what I said or how I acted. They valued me for who I was.

In school I would pretend that they were right there beside me.

When my family went on long car trips to see my grandparents half a country away, my invisible friends were with me.

They followed me into my dreams.

And when we moved the summer between 5^th and 6^th grade, they were right there ready to greet me when my daddy put my beloved swing set up in our new back yard.

Being safe is so important. And too often we do not experience this safety in the “real” world. We are rejected because of the way we look, the people we love, the way we talk, and for a thousand other reasons.

I’ve got to admit that even as an adult my imaginary friends are occasionally still with me. Why? Because there is nothing I can say, do or think that is ridiculous or stupid. They help me process through my own self-doubt until I can express myself in a way that feels safe to share with my closest friends. They are always safe.

And I don’t think I’m alone. I think this is one of the reasons why role play is so popular.

On the other hand: there’s something about having real people in our lives that are safe, too. It’s a treasured gift when we know that our secret, sacred center is held in all its fragility by someone who is willing to climb down into the pit of insecurity, fear, and isolation with us.

But it takes tremendous courage to share this side of ourselves – even with those who love us the most.

George Johnson’s book, “All Boys Aren’t Blue” is a memoir of self-discovery as he carefully explores his identity as queer and even more gently learns how to express who he is. It’s a story of hidden identity, life-altering trauma, realized and unrealized dreams, and all the tension of growing up queer and Black.

We are going to gather our book club to discuss “All Boys Aren’t Blue” one more time this coming Wednesday (March 13, 2024) from 7:00-8:30 pm on Zoom. If you’d like to explore this book with us, please let me know and I’ll send the link to participate. The conversation promises to be rich!