Gay community members just want love, acceptance



By MARALINE KUBIK
VINDICATOR STAFF WRITER
athleen Johnson always knew she wanted to be a mom. But for a lesbian, having a child takes special planning.
She was 28 and in an exclusive relationship when she first started talking about having a baby and of finding a man to serve as a sperm donor, Johnson recalled recently.
The cost of artificial insemination prohibited her from going to a fertility clinic and using an anonymous donor.
Her partner, however, did not wholeheartedly support the idea of asking a friend for such a personal contribution.
"Every time I'd talk to a man she'd say, 'You're not thinking about having sex with him, are you?'" Johnson said, remembering their conversations. "She was jealous."
Strong desire
Eventually, Johnson and her partner split up, but her desire to become a mother grew even stronger.
By the time she reached her mid-30s, Johnson had decided to pursue her dream. She met a man, told him about her desire to become a mom and explained her situation. After many long conversations, he agreed to donate his sperm.
"I know everything about him," Johnson said of her 6-month-old son's father.
The reaction of Johnson's friends to her decision to have a child in the manner that she did has been mixed.
"In the straight world people say, 'Don't you think the baby should know his father?'" Straight men, she said, are most likely to voice their disapproval. "They say, 'Why didn't you just marry the guy if he wanted to have a baby with you?' Some straight men think it was totally wrong, but my gay friends think it's great. Most of my straight girlfriends think it's pretty cool. A lot of them are single moms, too."
Some of Johnson's lesbian friends, however, aren't as supportive, she said. "They don't like that I wasn't artificially inseminated." Even so, Johnson said, she doesn't believe being a mom will interfere with her personal life. "My baby comes first, and women understand that," she said.
Although her son is still too young to understand the circumstances of his birth, Johnson said: "I'm not going to hide it from my son. I've already thought about what I'm going to tell him."
She will explain that his father did her the greatest favor anyone could ask: He made it possible for her to have a child. But, she said, that is all he did. He was merely a biological donor, and that was his choice. She offered him the opportunity to be involved in the baby's life, but he declined. That was the agreement from the beginning, she said.
Role of religion
Johnson is a practicing Catholic and said she plans to bring her son up in the faith. She also credits God with answering her prayer for a child. "God must have wanted me to have a baby because it only took one try," she said.
Her parents and siblings are also practicing Catholics, and not all of them are comfortable with her situation. So, Johnson said, "I just don't say much about it."
Not discussing her personal life seems to work to her benefit in general.
"Youngstown is a pretty peaceful place if you're gay. I haven't heard about any crime against gays," she said. Of course, "You're fine if people don't know. People who do know are pretty friendly in general. It's only when you hit the wrong crew that trouble starts."
Youngstown Pride Center
Gay bashings -- attacks on homosexuals -- are not unknown in Youngstown, countered Terry Esarco. He is a 42-year-old gay man and chairman of the Youngstown Pride Center, a social and support group for homosexuals. Esarco said he knows of several episodes at area bars that have gone unreported or were not taken seriously by law enforcement officials. Local drag show performers have also been beaten or robbed, he said.
Cases of domestic violence, however, may be more problematic, Johnson said. The police don't always take it seriously when it happens in gay households, she explained.
The greatest problems, Johnson continued, usually involve lack of acceptance within families, so a lot of young people are afraid to tell their parents that they are gay.
"I know one guy whose parents and church both threatened to disown him," she added.
Esarco can identify with that.
"I knew about myself when I was 13," he said. "I told my parents when I was 21 and it was just hell."
Didn't talk
Esarco grew up in Lowellville, a small town where everybody knows everybody, he said. His family is Catholic and, like many families in his hometown, very religious. Homosexuality runs counter to his parents' beliefs, he said, so they dealt with it by not talking. "Now my mom is deceased and my dad is in denial."
Luckily, his friends are supportive. "I think it's an educational, enlightenment thing," he said.
In the factory where he works, Esarco does not discuss his personal life, and co-workers don't ask. "They leave me alone, and I leave them alone," he said. Although he's never had a problem at work, he said, discrimination is often a problem for homosexuals. Unlike minorities who are often victims of prejudice, Esarco said, there are no laws protecting homosexuals from being discriminated against.
In fact, Esarco contended, Ohio law discriminates against gays by prohibiting same-sex marriages, and employers rarely provide health-care benefits for domestic partners.
By speaking out and serving as chairman of the pride center, Esarco said he feels as though he is putting himself out as a target, but hopes his efforts will help make life better for others. "We want to dispel the myths about gay people," he said.
Aunt is inspiration
For inspiration, Esarco looks to his aunt. She was part of the underground in Italy during World War II and often hid Jewish refugees in her home. She was caught and sent to a work camp, he said. When she was finally released, she promised a dying friend that she would forsake her fianc & eacute; to marry her friend's widowed husband and be a mother to their children.
"If she could put her life on the line like that to make life better for someone else," Esarco said, "I have to do this. This is the 21st century; it's about time we learn about loving and acceptance rather than hatred."
kubik@vindy.com