My bio overlaps with those sponsoring anti-LGBTQ bills

25th anniversary photo

One of the things that struck me in reading bios of Missouri lawmakers sponsoring bills targeted against LGBTQ people is how neatly my own biography could fit among theirs.

To begin with, I have a BA and MA from two different Catholic universities, and I earned grad level certification in teaching secondary English at a third. I’m an Eagle Scout, and I was a member of Alpha Sigma Nu and Kappa Delta Pi honor societies.

I am a cisgender white man, born in Missouri (though not all of the lawmakers are from Missouri). My father grew up in Lebanon, Missouri, worked in his father’s bakery, traced his genealogy back to multiple American patriots, participated in Sons of the American Revolution, and even gained membership in the elite Society of the Cincinnati, being descendant from an officer in the Continental Army. Responding to John F. Kennedy’s call to “ask what you can do for your country,” he taught high school for over thirty years, and was very active in public service in other ways. He died in 2015, placing a wreath on my brother-in-law’s grave. After he died, his Knights of Columbus group bought a dishwasher and dedicated it to him, in memory of all of his hours handwashing dishes as a Knight.

I am a Catholic who has been an altar server (even as an adult), extraordinary minister of communion, served on liturgy committees, and donated to the Church in various ways. I even spent half a year in high school seminary and discerned with a secular institute (similar to a religious order). I have been married to my wife for over 25 years, and we have a papal blessing from Pope Francis. My wife and I were active in a lay movement for about 15 years. I’ve had a long term interest in theology and church history, including histories of various Protestants in America.

As a fun fact, I’m third generation mixed marriage. My paternal grandfather married a Protestant woman, who became Catholic. My maternal grandfather was Catholic and married a Protestant— and lived as a Protestant. Like my father, I also married a woman raised Methodist (both my mother and wife became Catholic). So, I have a history in both Catholicism as well as American Protestantism. When my wife and I married, 2 priests (1 holy, 1 worldly) and a friend who was a transitional deacon served at Mass.

*

While I have a similar background to many of the anti-LGBTQ Missouri lawmakers, I have some differences as well. To begin with, I was raised by my father in the values of public service, public education, and good government. Public service meant teaching history in an inner-city school. In the 1980s, when Time Magazine came out with its issue on the AIDS epidemic, my father dedicated class time to having students read about the epidemic and learn how to protect themselves. He did prison ministry and took me with him to winterproof a home for the family of a man in prison. When my father died, people told my mother about all kinds of service he did that she never knew about.

Although he sent me to Catholic schools for four years, he pulled me out when the lay woman teaching me had the other students punch me on the way out of class. He remembered that after fifth grade, the nun that taught him had told him that he had reached his potential, and should drop out. After a year, he went back to public schools and went on to public college, where he got his bachelor’s degree. He later earned a couple of master’s degrees. He knew that public schools teach all students and don’t pick and choose who they educate. As a union man, he also went on strike to get better pay and benefits. He also believed strongly in the role of education in building a strong democracy.

Good government meant good services from the government, including schools, but also drinking water, trash pickup, public libraries, Social Security, and other safety net programs. He never bought bottled water and bragged that Kansas City had great tap water. When the garbage men were about to strike, he showed solidarity by helping them load our garbage into their truck. For him, public libraries were a part of a social commitment to free education. He also had a personal library, and he let me read whatever I liked— confident in my judgement and not afraid of anything.

Yes, I am a Catholic, but I also pay attention to my experience with the Catholic Church. When I was a child, a teenage bully lived across the street from me. He was a very angry young man who did things like: forcefully flinging shingles from his roof at me in my yard, shooting bottle rockets at my father, and throwing thirteen pumpkins through our front storm door one Halloween. Years later I learned that he was one of the boys who were abused by priests at my parish, St. Elizabeth’s Parish. Multiple bishops covered up the abuse by clergy. Some victims in Kansas City, including those at my parish, made a documentary for healing called Procession. When I was older, I was in a choir that was run by a priest. The priest would yell at the singers and one time threw a songbook he didn’t like out of the choir loft. He hated and avoided kids, thankfully. This priest later became the head of a Latin Mass community. In my one semester of high school seminary, there was one priest who would throw things at students who fell asleep in class. A few years later, I went to confession with this priest at a communal penance service and was surprised to have him yell at me. I also have years of hearing terrible advice from priests (from the pulpit and the confessional) about relationships and sexuality.

While I’m at it, I should mention that a college friend of mine did get me to get involved with a couple of prolife activities. I remember seeing prolife as a civil rights issue in high school (and I mostly went to public high school). I prayed the rosary outside a clinic once, at some distance away. I also went once to the annual march in Washington. I was struck by the overwhelmingly religious character of the march. The songs were traditional Marian hymns like Hail Holy Queen. When my friend and I tried to sing something like We Shall Overcome, it did not catch on. In the years since then, I have seen the march become something of a children’s crusade, with Catholic high schools and universities organizing annual trips for students. My faith in the prolife movement faltered when Donald Trump became the nominee for president. I saw the movement go all in on power and winning at any cost. I also believed the stories that outlawing abortion would not impact pregnancy care. The many news cases since Dobbs reversed Roe vs. Wade, show that pregnancy care has gotten much worse. I also have learned about how Catholic hospitals have put their moral scruples to avoid abortion above the concern for good pregnancy care: See PBS NewsHour | How Catholic-run hospitals restrict reproductive health care | Season 2024 | PBS, but there are articles about this going back for years. When given the ability to write laws that would restrict abortion while ensuring life-saving care, prolife lawmakers have shown that they can’t do it.

For me, marriage and family is about supporting my children and helping them become productive and independent members of society. In this, I follow my father, who affirmed the various choices I made and encouraged me toward autonomy and self-sufficiency. From my university years, I learned the Jesuit value of respecting children as having their own relationship with God and the world. For me, raising children has always been about enabling them to learn from reality and their experience, and not as some would have it, becoming dependent on rules and authorities. As my father liked to say, God has no grandchildren.

While I have seen parents reject their children, instead my wife and I embrace and affirm our three adult children. We have one son, who is gay. And we have two daughters, one who is trans and the other who is cisgender bisexual. With our trans daughter, I can tell you that it’s impossible for me to argue with her happiness in being able to be herself. She was delightful and charming as a young child, but miserable for many years and we didn’t know why. Now, we are pleased to see her thriving again. Of the three kids, she’s also the most devout. We want our children to be welcomed in American life without the threats of hatred, discrimination, and violence. It truly puzzles us that religious politicians would fear our daughter rather than priests, pastors, and politicians who have raped and sexually abused many— and made themselves complicit through denial and coverups. Since going public as a Catholic father with LGBTQ kids, my wife and I hear from many other Catholic parents of kids who are gay, bi, or trans. Like us, the families who contact us love and affirm their children despite the fear-mongering of bishops and other conservative Catholic leaders.