My mother had a tradition, ritual, habit, practice, that when the evening meal was over and my father would go watch the evening news and we kids went to do homework, she would sit quietly at the table enjoying a peaceful cup of tea.
As we grew older and left the nest, when we visited we would occasionally sit at the table and fill her in on the details of our lives that did not come up during the supper conversation.
When I moved across the country to California I made every effort to get home for Christmas.
The after supper tea conversations were a good time to catch up. I was involved in Union and Gay rights work, had met many people, had become involved in a lot of activities, and had acquired a degree of “fame” as a cartoonist, and my mother was eager to hear about it all.
While I joke that I ended up in Oklahoma as the result of a series of errors in judgment, she had a quiet unspoken mother’s understanding of what that meant, and as time went on and my advocacy for GLBT students became more involved, having read my emails about it, articles about it, pro and con, on the online version of the local newspapers, and reports on the local GLBT online news site, it was during those cups of tea that she would ask questions that required more detailed answers and offer the needed encouragement.
As things in Oklahoma City were coming to a head, and just before all the legal actions, My mother told me over a cup of tea that she and my father would love for me to move back close to home, but as they both realized that what I was doing was important, if not for me, but for the students whose lives would be made better, they had accepted it was best if I stayed and finished the work. She informed me that if they got their wish, it would mean all progress would stop, and this could mean any good I was accomplishing would end, with someone else having to begin the work over again at a later date, if at all. My mother told me as we finished the cup of tea that she and my father did not want their desire to be the reason that the good that could be done wasn’t. Playing that role would result in regret not only for me, but them as well.
She then, in a serious voice told me she and my father were willing to accept that it was best that I stay and finish what I was doing.
I had arranged to be home for Christmas in 2008. I had bought the plane ticket and had scheduled my flight for the last day of class before the Christmas break, but, what should have been a happy time, what with the break, the holidays, and being with family, was marred by a letter from my principal informing me I had to be at a meeting in her office to which I could bring a union representative and at which I was to receive a Plan of Improvement based on dereliction of duty and unprofessional conduct.
Eventually this became the first step in the process of having me dismissed, a plan that was later to be revealed in court to have been a contrived excuse to eliminate the Gay man advocating for GLBT students and, thereby, kill the message. Overtime, the actions of the school administration was revealed for what it was, and not only was my dismissal ruled wrongful by a district court judge, but that ruling being upheld on the appeal filed by the administration.
The night before that meeting I got a phone call that my mother had passed away.
During the meeting when I explained all business had be completed then as I was now not going home only to visit family but to attend my mother’s funeral, her death was actually used to introduce a way to prolong the wrongful treatment.
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When I told my father who, unbeknownst to me had been well informed on things by my mother although he himself had not talked to me about it, suggested I return to school on schedule so my mother could not be used against me in the proceedings I was about to face.
The year after my mother’s passing was filled with formulaic meetings, a Plan for Improvement I fulfilled but, because the administrator had not performed her duties resulted in my being asked if I would extend my harassment by extending my already reached deadline, a dismissal hearing fraught with school committee members violating their own policies to arrive at a predetermined outcome, a court case that revealed the whole process for what it was, an appellate court ruling that verified I had been wrongly treated, and close to anniversary of my mother’s death, the Oklahoma City Public Schools adding “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” to student related school district policies.
I knew my mother would gave wished this final win had happened when there was a chance for me to come home and be able to be with her and my father for their remaining years, but her support had meant so much.
While others had put flowers on her grave and others placed stones on the headstone, I was able to place a copy of OKC’s local newspaper with the article about the win where she lies.
Today is the 10th anniversary of her death. And for those who have experienced it, mothers never really go away.
In preparation for the court case while I was going through documents that might be helpful to my lawyers, I had papers spread all over my dining room floor and had to move a small table with some random things on it that were just there and unused. As I moved the table, a book my mother had once given me fell to the floor and a document I had forgotten I fad fell out. That document proved to be crucial to the case.
On one level this is a sad day. On another it can be seen as the day I had an ally move on to a position that helped not only me, but the GLBT students now protected by inclusion in school policies.
GERINE H QUIGLEY
September 1922 December2008