In the post-hippy years of the early-mid 1970s, my mother proclaimed aloud how she wished she could understand the bible. Like many peers of her generation, she had grown up during the Great Depression, watched as her brothers and husband went off to fight in World War II, worked hard to help support her daughter (my elder sister), and rejoiced when the war was over and they proceeded to build what they believed to be a greater country that the one they grew up in.
I was born in the UK to Muslim immigrant parents. Although not religious, we were a conservative; culturally Muslim family. Saying it was hard growing up in 1970/80’s Britain, is an understatement! What the world viewed of Britain was the royal family and Monty Python. However, my reality was as far removed from that as possible. My upbringing in my industrial town, can only be described as downbeat. Racism, and the violence that accompanied it, was the backdrop to my formative years.
To my fellow Queerlings: I want to make sure you know your history, so this omi-polone is gunna park it real neat. The rainbow flag represents our community not because we are sponsored by Skittles Corp. No honey, those colors REPRESENT something. Many things in fact. Here’s the T.
I knew it. Or at least, I believed it could definitely be a possibility.
One day, as I was walking down the street, I randomly entered this little bookstore. It was colorful and charming, and it didn’t just have an awesome book selection but also paintings, photographs and pottery from local independent artists. There weren’t many places quite like that where I used to live back then. I felt tempted to buy so many things, but it was the end of the month, I had almost no money and had already impulsively bought a bunch of books on Amazon the week before.
My mother was 37 when she fell in love with a woman, the same age I am now. It was 1974, I was 14, and the woman my mother fell in love with was the principal of my brothers’ and sisters’ new grade school, a nun who also happened to be my mother’s boss.
It was August 5, 2010. I had just finished one of the most important Masses of the year at the Las Vegas Cathedral with the Bishop of Las Vegas. After Mass, the Vicar General of the Diocese asked me to join him and the Bishop in the Bishop’s Conference Room in the Chancery office building directly across the parking lot from the Cathedral where my office was also.
Hello! My name is Dhruv Patel AKA Dave. I come from a mixed background (Half Gujarati-Indian, hence the Patel surname & half Italian). This mixed heritage played a significant role in my life as a gay youth.