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Trump Administration Defaces and Defiles Stonewall, as I Cry
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Do you ever feel grief that you can’t go home again? I sure do! Home for me is a New York City that will never exist again except in my memories. Home is strolling 1990s-era Greenwich Village arm in arm with Lenny, my husband-in-fact but not at law. Home is sitting with him in Christopher Park across from the darkened site of the former Stonewall Inn. Home is our queer friends sharing their happiness or grief in the shadow of that venerable ground.
Lenny often stands up from a park bench and offer hugs all around. I have a hard time getting used to that, having been raised differently. But I’m learning!
The idea that Donald Trump is desecrating [the Stonewall] is almost unbearable. It’s like they’re trying to rip out our hearts.
Carla is always delighted to see us sitting with George Segal’s statues. One night, Lenny compliments her latest outfit. She’s so stylish, always with a different silk scarf to cover a bobbing adam’s apple she tells me I had better NEVER mention. She sounds severe, but I know she’s teasing me. I never bring up how passing is challenging for a woman like her who lived…
