It's not San Francisco, but ...

It’s funny about the things that make you start to fit into a church and really feel happy there. Last week was Sixth Presbyterian’s picnic, and I really didn’t have a very good time. You’d think a picnic would do it, but I felt alienated. Marching in the Pride Parade and staffing the booth there, however, seemed to be what really finalized it for me. I was very happy to see other people besides LGBT people showing up to support what the church is doing. A variety of people showed up too: older people, families, children. I also really got to know the lesbians at the church, and I really like them. In addition, the transgender support booth was next to us, and I saw how well we interacted with them. I was very glad the minister showed up. I chatted with her for awhile, and I feel we understand each other in a way that probably no two other people in the church do—as two liberals who have lived in San Francisco. After chatting with her for a very brief time, I realized that she and I are two particular types of liberals the likes of with Pittsburgh is not familiar. As soon as I told her I had attended Noe Valley Presbyterian Church, she got a knowing look on her face. She knew that I knew what it was like for Presbyterians in San Francisco. She had been an intern at the Seventh Avenue Presbyterian Church. I reminded her that that church is in exactly the same kind of neighborhood as Sixth—Jewish, Russian-speaking. It’s very ironic. Then, of course, anytime you meet someone who has lived in San Francisco, earthquake chat has to make a brief entrance into the conversation. After talking to someone who has experienced Presbyterian life in San Francisco, I thought, well, I don’t have to worry about her!

Today, I felt very happy as I approached the church. I felt happy as I saw the steps. I felt happy walking up them. I felt happy seeing the greeters. I felt happy walking in. I felt happy sitting in my usual section, seeing the usual people, and seeing Bobby walk in, smile, and sit in the same pew. The minister is very angelic looking. I felt happy to see her. I felt happy to look around and see all the lesbians who had been at the parade yesterday. Every time I walk into the church and see it and the people, I have to say "Thank you, Erin" to that minister who rescued me out of cyberspace and found that church for me. I also am always thanking her for all my transgender friends. I don’t know if she feels very comfortable about having influenced me in that way!

It was obvious that I’d done the right thing by staffing the booth. People were impressed with my energy and humor. They felt I had done a great job of advertising the church. I received a lot of compliments and now feel more accepted in the church. I reached out to a variety of people, but I think people did get a kick out of me appealing to transgender people, drag queens, pagans, and even trying to get people’s dogs to take literature! Myra was telling people that I’m a gift! I was kind of wishing she’d mention that to Erin, because I’m wondering if Erin isn’t a little sorry she ever found me out there flailing in cyberspace. Also, the lesbians at church asked me to go to a ballgame at PNC Park. It appears they are trying to take someone who is retiring from the Presbytery to a game, but they can’t get anyone to go, so the lesbians have all agreed to go! I started to think that would be a lot of fun and give me an opportunity for some camaraderie.

After all this transpired, Svetlana showed up. She depends on me to talk to her in Russian and French (she lived in Paris too) because her English isn’t that good. So I talked to her a long time in Russian and French. It was funny trying to explain the Pride Parade and transgender people to her in French and Russian. By the way, homosexuals are referred to as "goluby" or light blue people in Russian!

Well, anyway, it’s not San Francisco at that church, but it’s the next best thing!