I was sitting at a bar last week. My favorite bar; that being the one in my living room. Dinner was over, about 18 showed up for our irregular gathering on this particular Tuesday. One of them, we’ll call him “Bob,” was engaged with me in the quaint custom known as “catching up.” It is a viable substitute for significant conversation when time is short, and is generally tolerable for brief durations.  Bob and I have not seen each other meaningfully in many months, and rebuilding the comfort of friendship isn’t always easy.

Having run the gamut of the ordinary and the cliche, we began discussing topics of some actual substance. Bob, a staunch Roman Catholic, is not so enamored of the current Pope, although he stops short of disagreeing with Vatican directions, doctrine, or policies. I have little to offer on those topics from a religious perspective, being an atheist, and we had established early in our relationship that Bob did not particularly want to discuss those issues. We acknowledged that our religious and political views are quite different, and we customarily set those aside in the name of friendship and camaraderie.  As Thomas Jefferson wrote to William Hamilton in 1800, “I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.” 1

That noble view was about to be tested.  Another of our guests, a bearded gentleman cross-dressing for the past few months (and planning on doing so through November of 2015, more on that below), breezed past us. Bob shook his head ruefully and clucked his tongue. He actually, really and truly, clucked his tongue. I hadn’t heard that sound since visiting my great-grandmother’s house in Rockford, Illinois.  The last such visit with Gram was quite some time ago, as she passed in about 1959, at 97 years of age. But there it was, a genuine, unadulterated and undeniable tongue-clucking. A public tongue-clucking to boot.  I saw at least one head snap around.  While I cannot be entirely certain of the cause, I am satisfied as to the connection.

Friends can disagree, I reminded myself.  Friends can disagree. Such an obvious display of disapproval and judgment, however, was beyond the pale.  I became quite uncomfortable in my role as host of the event.  In that role, I strive mightily to remain above participating in any religious, political, or social fray.  Mostly, I succeed in that effort.  This time, however, I could not let the derogation pass unremarked. I addressed Bob squarely.  Joe is cross-dressing in support of a friend of his, I explained, a friend who has endured bullying and harassment because of his cross-dressing.  Joe is seeking to show solidarity and to raise awareness about the difficulties that gender-crossing, gender-bending, or transgendered persons face in our society.  I related a short history of Joe’s experiences as I understood them. You can read more about that at Joe’s Blog on Tumblr, Beard and Sequins. I recommend it, in fact.  You can find his blog at http://beardandsequins.tumblr.com.

Bob, however, chose to seize on current affairs to bolster his opinions that such activities are wrong. “HA!” he exclaimed. “Just like that Bruce Jenner guy!”  He added several rude comments that I will not repeat.  Did I mention that I was raised to remain above the fray when hosting an event? Decorum mattered in my family, deeply. Social niceties were to be maintained when hosting. Always.

And now I must confess; I have let my forebearers down. I tried diligently to remain calm and collected, as I pointed out that “Bruce” Jenner was in the past, and that Caitlyn Jenner was here, now, and real. I pointed out that we all had the right to self-determine our identities, and that Bob’s choice to publicly identify as a practicing Roman Catholic was no different than Caitlyn Jenner’s choice to acknowledge her own identity. I pointed out that individualism and the courage to follow one’s own path were characteristics of the “American Way”. Above all, I pointed out that Caitlyn Jenner has demonstrated such tremendous courage in making a deeply personal transition in her life extremely public. I asked Bob if he knew what it felt like to not fit in, to be a stranger in your own skin, to know, beyond all doubt and to an absolute certainty that you were assigned to the wrong gender at birth. I asked Bob if he understood how fragile and fleeting life is, and how painful it can be if lived in shadows and deception. I asked Bob how he, follower of a god who spoke of acceptance, of compassion, and of love could pass such judgment and rain such condemnation down on another human being? I was quiet, contained and controlled, but I lost it. I wish I could be ashamed of that, but I am not.

To his credit, Bob was abashed. He acknowledged that he had not thought of the issues from those perspectives. It was certainly polite of him to say that, and I am grateful for that kindness. He chose not to linger at the event, and our parting was cordial.  And thus, we will see. We will see if one voice can become many, and we will see if firm but respectful disagreements can be resurrected in an age of sloganeering and jingoism. And as to my arch-conservative, staunchly Roman Catholic friend, Bob? We’ll see if he comes back on some other Tuesday. I hope he does.

1.  https://www.monticello.org/site/research-and-collections/i-never-considered-difference-opinion-politicsquotation