Yall wanna hear a kinda funny, kinda sad story about my grandmother and hetero-normativity?
Ok, so... when my grandmother was in her 50s (I was an infant), she met a woman at the Unitarian Church. And, as can happen when you meet your soul mate, this event made it impossible for her to deny parts of herself that she had fiercely hidden her whole life.
All the drama- their affair being found out, the divorce with my grandfather, the court battle over who got the house, happened while I was a baby. Even in my earliest memories, it's just Mama Jo and Oma, and my grandfather lived elsewhere (first his own apartment, then a nursing home, then with us.)
But here's the thing- no one ever explained any of this to me. No one ever sat down and was like "hey, Rosie, so do you know what a lesbian is?" It was the 90s. It was Texas. I think my mom was still kinda processing all this, and just assumed that like... I was gonna figure it out. Don't mention it, let it just be normal. Like I think my mom thought that if she explained the situation, she would be making it weird? I dunno.
But like. In the 90s, in all the movies I had seen and books I had read, do you know how many same sex couples I had seen? Like. 0. Do you know how many "platonic best friend/roommates" I had seen? A lot. I had no context, is what I'm saying.
I literally thought this was a Golden Girls, roommates, besties situation until I was like...I dunno, 11? 12?
It was actually their parrot, an African Grey named Spike, imitating my grandmothers voice saying "Johanna, honey, it's getting late", that triggered the MIND BLOWN moment as I realized that *there's only one master bedroom and it only has 1 waterbed* when all the pieces finally clicked.
Anyway. I think it's a real important thing for kids to know queer people exist, for a lot of reasons, but also because kids can be clueless and it's embarrassing to have your grandmother be outted by a parrot because everyone just thought you'd figure it out on your own.
Anyway, here is my grandma and her wife, my Oma, after they moved to Albuquerque to be artsy gay cowboys and live their best life. They helped run a "Lesbian Dude Ranch" out there (basically just with funding and financial support. As Oma has explained "traditionally, most lesbians don't have a lot of money" so they wrote the checks and let the younger ladies actually run the ranch.)
Other facts about Spike Jones the parrot, for those who were wondering:
- I believe my grandfather named him (after the musician, because he made silly noises) but he went with Mama Jo in the divorce. So he was older than me.
- He talked a LOT. His favorite phrase for visitors was "I'm Spike Jones. I'm an African Grey. I can talk. Can you?"
- He would make the telephone ring sound if he wanted you to go over to him. (The house phone was in the same room as his enclosure)
- He would make the microwave 'ding' noise if he wanted you to leave his room.
- He would LAUGH if you did this (he tricked you!)
- Mama Jo and Oma had another parrot (a green one who didn't talk) named Margarita. Spike would call her "Margarita Bird Brain" and try to steal her snacks.
- You could not wear hats, especially baseball caps, around him or he would throw himself onto the floor and scream. (He was a rescue, so there's probably a very sad story there.)
- He did a really good impression of Oma calling my grandma's name from the other room. Apparently it was fairly common for the parrot to go "JoAAAAANNE" and Mama Jo to stop whatever she was doing to see what Oma needed, and Spike would laugh and laugh and laugh.
- He would bite, and we were not allowed to hold him. (Again, sad back story is assumed.)
I loved that bird, and he convinced me that I should never, ever, own a parrot. (You want to own a wickedly smart toddler with wings and claws that will live to be 50+ and never stop being a toddler? No. No you don't.)










