Path: utzoo!utgpu!jarvis.csri.toronto.edu!mailrus!uwm.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!samsung!psuvax1!psuvm!auvm!DRACO!LCREW From: LCREW@DRACO.RUTGERS.EDU Newsgroups: bit.listserv.gaynet Subject: RE: diversity Message-ID: <9002220534.AA01189@ATHENA.MIT.EDU> Date: 22 Feb 90 05:31:00 GMT Sender: Gaynet Distribution List Reply-To: gaynet@ATHENA.MIT.EDU Lines: 38 Approved: NETNEWS@AUVM.BITNET Gateway X-Vms-To: IN%"gaynet@ATHENA.MIT.EDU" X-To: gaynet@ATHENA.MIT.EDU Doug, thanks for reminding us of other diversity. I concur. My life has been enormously enriched by moving outside my class and profession as well. I have exchanged several crates full of letters with prisoners, for example. They find me through articles that I have written. I also lay down the ground rules that I will never send any gift, that I am not writing for sexual fantasy, and that I expect the same high degree of candor that I will deliver. One of my correspondents has gone on to publish about 200 essays and poems from within jail, and last spring he showed up in town as a worker for the carnival, a year after his release. We talked non-stop almost two days, with little sleep. He's now reunited with his son, whom he had not seen in 16 years. I can't imagine the poverty of my life had I not week after week, month after month, for almost 14 years had clear, direct, honest communication with this other human being; and it is mutual. He's not gay. Neither of us has looked for anything except friendship, and each has given it full measure, as the prophet saith, pressed down and running over. A cleaning person at my campus just brought me back a bag of boiled peanuts from South Carolina. We're home boys. I'd rather talk until 2 a.m. with him than talk with many another professor. I'm a writer, but I surely would not have much to say or feed my mind with if I talked only to other academics. That's not to say I exclude them either. I remember how fascinated my housemates were when I taught in England in the mid 1960's. One night I would dine with Lady S___, the grandmother of another teacher. The next night I would dine in the home of the campus gardiner. Another night I might bring back with me a handsome old sailor. The next evening, I would eat alone, visiting with John Bunyon or the Vicar of Wakefield. Only by books could most of my housemates, all interns in local London hospitals, hope to move freely outside their rank and station. I thought it as a US-Britian distinction, only later to discover that most of my compatriots in America really had not discovered the great pleasure open to Americans. You don't have to be idolatrous: you don't have to have a world made in your own image. Yes, Doug, thanks for expanding the discussion. Luti/Louie