I feel emotional reading this letter from a father to his son and hearing how Magic Johnson led the conversation in a very warm and supportive way to his son. These young gay men are lucky to have these fathers.
I never married the woman who shared my life for 31 years. My attraction to her was magnetic, and although she was nothing like me, we undoubtedly shared the experience of being female. We were two women attracted to each other's differences.
It is at the core of me and my generally sardonic outlook that the first moment of my creation happened by way of a stranger masturbating into a cup, and the second involved my mother and a glorified turkey baster.
I was only totally caught off-guard once by teasing and that was the first time it happened, the day I started school. I joined the first grade mid-year as a transplant from Manhattan. Back then, I was maintaining my Manhattan-dwelling habit of introducing myself as, "I'm Emma. I have two moms."
From Liz Carmouche to Laverne Cox to Cynthia Nixton to Wanda Sykes, there are countless visible queer women who are painting the world with their bravery, boldness and tenacity. These are some of the ones who have been the most inspiring for me.
Creator Tucky Williams set out to construct a fictional world of suburban lesbians where the characters seem like friends from down the block. These gals aren't glamazons, but they are flawed in ways that make them interesting.
I'm not a girly girl who prefers weaving a basket to sinking one. I'd rather bounce a ball off my racquet than a baby on my knee. And I will always prefer black grease paint to mascara. But I just don't get the lesbian sports craze.