Homophobic Grama

Well, I am officially never coming out to my grandparents.

Ever.

Things got a might bit awkward in here when the news of the progress on the DADT repeal started playing across the TV, the local news station informing us all that the only step left was ObamaLlama's signature. This was something I had already known, of course (I keep up on these things!), so I'm smiling like an idiot. I've been supporting this repeal whole-heartedly for months, and to see it be THISCLOSE is exciting, at the very least. Meanwhile my grandparents are getting more and more sullen, all unhappy at the TV and the knews it brings.

I was slightly obliviouse to their mood, and chattered about how the bill was so close, so close!

To which my grandmother sighed and said, "Yes, it's sad. It's going to make things so much harder on our men in our army."

Oh. Right. This is when I remember my grandmother is homophobic. Stupidly, I plow on with a, "Why?"

"Well, they don't need the gays in there sleeping in the same places as all the men."

The gays. I can hear the obviouse distaste in her voice while she uses such a catch all term. We continue the conversation, while I insist being gay doesn't make people automatic manwhores, she reveals that Norm (her husband, my step-papa, I guess) was come on to by a man when he was in the service. I don't even know how to respond to that, and let the conversation drop.

But now, I keep turning it over in my head, and I can't believe people let one encounter with a douche bag completely colour their perception of all members of a minority. That would be like me justifying racism by the fact I was mugged by a group of black teenagers.

This is disapointing. I'm disapointed in my family.

Keeping fingers crossed, ObamaLlama has to let this one through!