Singing our songs

Last Sunday night I attended a concert by the Boston Gay Men’s Chorus whose title was Our True Colors. The concert was influenced by the It Gets Better movement, and during the concert four different men told stories of their youth and coming to adulthood and of the difficulties they faced with unloving families and bigoted, bullying schoolmates. One man told of being pushed to the point of putting a gun in his mouth. The last half of the concert was given over to the extended piece, “Prayers for Bobby,” based on the book by Leroy Aarons, music composed by J. A. Kawarsky. Bobby didn’t make it. The question was raised by a man I was sitting next to, Why does the gay community spend so much energy on narratives of pain and sorrow? This man wanted more positive narratives. Since so many people have survived their horrors, and are now living successful, even triumphant lives, that is a legitimate question. In fact, there was a good bit of positive narrative in the concert Sunday night. “Beautiful,” by Linda Perry, and “Firework,” by Katy Perry (and others), and the whole thrust of “Prayers for Bobby,” and, finally, the energetic and very beautiful encore, “Celebrate.” As the concert developed from song to song, I began to realize that the chorus and its director, Reuben Reynolds, had pulled off a very difficult feat. Their concert was closer to the heart of the experience of the gay community than almost any other works of art that we have access to. For the concert had its full measure of pain and sorrow, but it also had its full measure of celebration. Nothing was stinted. It was all there, and, as I told my partner, C, it was like a richly woven tapestry with all the threads, light and dark. Or like a choral piece, in which every singer had something to add. Nobody’s story was left out. We seem to find that difficult to do in the gay community.