LIFE

Raising a gay teen: When faith, family and sexuality collide

Jessica Bliss
jbliss@tennessean.com

Dawn Bennett thought she knew herself.

Wife. Mother of three. Devout Christian.

She thought she knew her daughter.

Guitarist. Softball player. Girl of unfaltering faith.

She didn't really know either.

Raising a gay child has taught her that.

In the six years since 19-year-old Erica Duclos looked into her mother's eyes and spoke openly about her sexuality, Bennett has fought fear, endured questions about God and grace, and struggled toward acceptance.

She loves her daughter, and she loves her God. Every day, her family and her faith collide. But the path forward is less about conflict than fortitude.

Erica Duclos realized she was gay in middle school.

Together, mother and daughter search for unity, embrace honesty and do what they do naturally — love. Regardless of circumstance.

"We don't get to play God in somebody's life," said Bennett, the gold cross around her neck catching sunlight. "We only get to coach.

"The best lesson that I can teach Erica is how to love unconditionally."

Questioning

As a girl, Duclos wasn't girly.

She was athletic, not frilly — a toned-down version of the pixie-cut, tattooed and pierced exterior she now embraces.

But, as her mother points out, "That really has nothing to do with nothing."

Children — gay and straight — come in all varieties, often diminishing stereotypes. Lots of gay boys like mud and football and rock music. Lots of lesbian girls like ballet and pedicures and romantic comedies.

Still, Duclos' parents talked between themselves. They wondered about their daughter's sexuality. But they never asked questions.

"You just wait," Bennett said.

Duclos dated boys because that's what she thought she was supposed to do.

Then, one day in middle school, she learned what "gay" was.

She doesn't remember the details of the discovery — she thinks the information came from the "terrible kids" who rode the bus with her — but suddenly she reached an understanding of herself.

She liked girls, and that attraction had a label.

She was gay.

"I realized people could actually be that, and it wasn't totally abnormal," she said.

Still, the taboo attached to her feelings led her to keep it a secret.

The discovery

As a result, the most private and difficult detail of Duclos' life was first delivered to her parents by her brother.

During Duclos' freshman year of high school, she met a girl who also was into girls. It was her first girl-crush experience.

Not long after, a friend outed her as gay. Within two days, the whole school knew, including her older brother, who was a senior at the time. He called her during marching band practice, flipping out. Duclos realized he had already told their mother.

Later that night, as Duclos sat in front of the computer in her room at home, she braced herself as her mom walked in the door.

"There was a solemn 10 seconds of 'God, this is going to happen,' " Duclos said.

At 14 years old, Duclos was concerned about how her mom would react, but not so much so that she lied.

In that moment of unadulterated truth, everything around her mother came crashing down.

As most parents do, Bennett had envisioned her daughter's future. The man she would marry. The woman she would be. Those dream bubbles popped.

But Bennett suppressed her abashment.

She took her daughter's face in her hands and said: "I love you, and the rest of it we will deal with as time goes by."

The conversations took place very slowly. With lots of tears. Duclos heard her mother's compassionate words, but an uncomfortable air covered them.

"It was a relief for me," Duclos said. "Not necessarily a relief for her."

Still, Duclos said, if the outing didn't go that way, it probably would have stayed hidden for a long time.

Her parents reassured her. Everything's going to be OK, they said. We are not going to throw you out of the house.

But the church family to which they belonged couldn't promise the same.

Rejected and dismantled

"Possessed" was the word hurled at Duclos.

Being gay, in the mind of her female mentor at church, meant being controlled by a power other than God.

"She said she could set up classes for me and put me through a Bible study to teach me how to be un-gay," Duclos said.

It was such a departure from the embrace she formerly felt from her faith community.

Duclos played bass as part of her church's youth group band. She enjoyed services. Her dad was a church usher. Her mom led classes. Duclos named the youth pastor's wife as one of her best friends.

But when news filtered through the congregation that the young musician was gay, Duclos was no longer welcomed. She was told she couldn't play in the band, because having her onstage would promote her lifestyle.

Dawn Bennett reads from the Bible at Metropolitan Interdenominational Church in Nashville. She became an outcast in her original church after it became known her daughter was gay.

Rejection from the church left Duclos dismantled. She chose, for a while, to give her parents excuses why she couldn't attend church.

When she attempted to return three months later, she was approached by a woman she had never met who asked if she had broken up with her girlfriend yet.

Duclos couldn't believe the audacity. Angry and crying, she called her parents — who were attending a service in the sanctuary — and told them she was leaving.

She never returned.

"The church would crumble if I ever walked back in," she said.

Love and acceptance

The faith foundation shaken, Bennett fought to find stable ground.

Her daughter was gay. Her church had shunned her. And Bennett wrestled with how she felt.

"That blew the doors off my family," she said.

For Bennett, it's not that she never had to think about homosexuality. Three of her siblings are gay.

Lots of people have an opinion, but Bennett had a decision. She accepted her daughter, but she didn't agree with her lifestyle.

Still, love with stipulations would be loving her conditionally.

"I have raised my child to love, honor and respect," Bennett said. "That's what she's been expected to do her whole life. For me to act in any other way ... makes me a liar.

"So my job really is very simple: to live out what I say. Walk my talk."

Life goes on

After a period of time, the dust has settled and the family has found a new norm.

It's been rocky.

"Raising a gay child will break you and make you simultaneously," Bennett said.

She lost her marriage, and even though she is not gay, she became an outcast in her church. At times, she felt forced to choose between her daughter and her faith, but she hasn't abandoned religion. Instead, she has searched for a more accepting community.

"I can't not be active (in the church)," she said. "It's something in me."

Every day, she and her daughter work on their relationship. The latest wrinkle is the distance between them. Duclos recently moved to Massachusetts to live with her aunt. There she works and has a support network. She feels she can be more true to herself.

But now, instead of sitting together on the bed or walking into a sanctuary, they carry out meaningful conversations electronically.

"I did you a disservice by not helping you find resources that would help you transition easier," Bennett wrote recently, "that would have helped you in your walk with God, that would have eased your pain.

"I did what I knew to do, and what I was capable of at the time. But I want you to know I know more now; I have more courage now. I am empowered more now to bring our story to life and light, to be a beacon of hope, help and healing for other families."

And Bennett is committed to helping other parents.

She has journaled her journey, years of heartache and examination, and turned her pensive prose into a book she is working to publish, "Loving Pearl."

Pearl is Bennett's nickname for her daughter, a young woman who she sees as a beautiful jewel beneath a tough exterior.

Their story is more about a mother's courage and beliefs than sexuality, and about her movement over time.

Duclos knows her mother is trying, she said, and that's all she can ask for.

There is one thing, above all, that Bennett wants her daughter to know.

"It's very simple. Erica's my daughter, and I love her. Period."

Reach Jessica Bliss at 615-259-8253 or jbliss@tennessean.com.

Loving Pearl

Dawn Bennett has always journaled — for solace and resolution. She has turned those words into a book called "Loving Pearl," which she has written to help other parents of gay children through the journey.

Bennett has started a Kickstarter campaign to get the book published.

Resources

For parents wanting to learn more about sexual orientation, here are a few resources.

PFLAG: Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. This group works to support and educate family and friends of LGBT people, and as an advocacy agency, tries to end discrimination and fight for equal rights. http://pflagnashville.org/

Advocates for Youth: Supports efforts that help young people make informed and responsible decisions about their reproductive and sexual health. www.advocatesforyouth.org/

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention: The health organization offers multiple resources LGBT youth and their families.www.cdc.gov/lgbthealth/youth-resources.htm#family