Silence at a Reunion

Over the years I have enjoyed reading this newsletter. I especially look forward to those articles in the first person about gay volunteers serving in various parts of the world and their dealings with their sexuality in mostly hostile environments. A few years back I wrote an article that was published in this publication. It told of my experiences returning to my host country (India) 30 years after my PC tour ended. There is one theme about PC gay experiences that I don’t recall reading about in the newsletter: attending a reunion with your Peace Corps group several years after completing volunteer service.

I’d like to describe a reunion I attended with members of my group a couple of year’s back. Some background first. I served in Peace Corps in India from 9/68 to 2/71.Our group was divided into three subgroups based on which Indian language we were to study. Our subgroup had ten volunteers that were selected to travel to south India. I was the oldest by ten years and the others were recent college graduates. Our mission was to restore profitability to large supermarkets. It was during the time the Vietnam War was tearing our country apart and Nixon was elected president.

Five of the ten of us got together in Denver to renew our friendships, talk about old times, brag about our accomplishments, and share our dreams about the future. I had not seen two of the four in more than thirty years. Another I had not seen since the early eighties. All of them married. Three of the four are divorced. One remarried. Three of the four had kids, most of whom are now in their twenties. All of us were college graduates. One is a lawyer who ran for mayor and lost in the small community where he resides. One has a Ph.D. and works for various Asian financial institutions on contract in water resource management. Another is a high school math teacher and photographer. The fourth is a food broker.

I brought photo slides taken during our India stay; another brought his diary. One brought letters that were written to him from us after he left India before completing his two-year hitch. Another had a memory that just would not quit. The weekend was spent at the home of one of the volunteers. He has telephoned me on my birthday, usually from overseas postings, every year for the last thirty, always reminding me that I’m ten years older than our fellow volunteers.

During the weekend we talked about our PC training and posting in India. We all had some similar fears that we brought out into the open. All of us had wondered what we were getting into. We all agreed that PC training was poor and when we arrived in India had no idea of what was in store for us. Of course at the time none of us would admit these doubts to one another. When one participant read passages from his diary, many events that I had forgotten came back to me. Some of the things I said and did were in hindsight rather dumb, as were the high jinks of some of the others. However we laughed at those events now. I showed my slides and the one main comment from all of us after viewing the photos was how young we looked 30 plus years ago.
Next we talked about what we did after PC. The discussions took place at an Indian restaurant, at the home of our host and during afternoon hikes in the foothills of the Rockies. We ate Indian meals three nights in a row. Our host cooked dinner on two nights. He was born in India of missionary parents and has the culinary skills to prepare tasty Indian cuisine. During the second night there was much talk about work, families and current events.

All of us participated in the very lively discussions. However, when the subject came up about family and personal relationships something very odd occurred. I became increasingly aware that no one asked me questions about my personal life. All of the others talked rather candidly about the joys and very deep pains of their prior relationships. I didn’t volunteer any personal information about my relationships. I was mostly silent during this part of our sharing. I guess I was waiting from one of them to ask me about the history of my love life.
Two of these friends knew I was gay. I was ready to come out to the others if asked, but no one asked. I let it go and listened as the others talked about their families and/or current girl friends. I very much wanted to talk about my life and loves but in the end I didn’t. Maybe in this setting I felt uncomfortable and might make someone else uncomfortable as well. I don’t know this for a fact. As I write this comment I am still asking myself why, why, why the silence. Upon reflection I believe my not wanting to share my sexuality with straight folks has to do with the era in which I was raised. I do believe there is a generation gap between older gays who grew up during the forties, fifties and sixties and the younger gays brought up in the eighties and nineties. Many of us were in the closet about our sexuality because we feared rejection by the straight world. If you were found out you could lose your job, be dishonorably discharged from the service, and worst of all be shut out by family and friends. I grew up in this environment and it made it difficult for me to admit being gay to straight people. This feeling has stayed with me.

At the end of the reunion after the others had left, I spoke to our host about my observations. My flight was the last to leave so we had some time to talk on the way to the airport. I told him that my feelings were hurt. His opinion was that the others suspected but they did not want to risk upsetting the harmony of the weekend. Maybe they were waiting for me to bring up the subject and my silence was a message that I did not want to talk about my personal life. Who knows? I did feel that an important part of my past and present life remained hidden to people I cared about. The blame lies with me. On the flight back home I came to the conclusion that I should have spoken up.

Thinking about it now, the reunion was a most enjoyable weekend. It was far more meaningful than the two high school reunions I have attended. When we went through Peace Corps training we forged a strong bond and in Denver the bond was so quickly renewed (the shared experiences). Since the reunion we have corresponded by email and Christmas newsletters. We all agreed how much we enjoyed the reunion and our time together. We plan to have another reunion sometime in the near future. One of the guys has volunteered to host the reunion at his home in South Carolina. This time I won’t be silent.