EDITOR'S LETTER
THE FIRST QUEER person I (knowingly) met was a former classmate of my mom’s (they attended high school in the ’50s during the rise of McCarthyism and birth of TV). I was maybe 7 when we ran into him at a restaurant in Connecticut. Afterward, I asked my mother what “gay” meant. She replied, “It’s when a man loves a man, or a woman loves a woman.” It was the ’70s, and not the sort of description most people had for LGBTQ+ folks at the time. As someone who came out about 10 years later, I appreciate her reply to this day. Not long after that, a lesbian couple joined our Episcopal church. They became a part of my mom’s wider friend circle and we ended up going camping with them…