Setting
Setting is important to this story because it is a memoir. Where you grow up has significant influence on the person you become. Sometimes that influence is embracing and sometimes it is rebelling;
‘I’m from a small city located in New Jersey called Plainfield, about thirty miles from the bright lights of Manhattan. You could literally drive from one end of Plainfield to the other in less than ten minutes. It’s a compact city with so many interconnected stories. Triumph, tragedy, and trauma all exist within those few square miles. It is a place I once hated but grew to love as my true home. My only home.”
Name Trauma
There is a lot of trauma in the book. The opening lines are a direct statement of a beating the author took as a young boy that stuck with him forever. He also has the identity trouble that often comes with a confusion of naming. And there was some confusion of naming here:
“It was in that moment that Nanny pulled out her Bible and told my mother, `This baby is going to have a biblical middle name, because there is no way in hell that I am calling a little baby George.’ As they thumbed through the chapters, `Matthew’ struck a chord with them. He was a good character from the Bible, in their opinion, and they felt that I looked like a Matthew. On that day, George Matthew Johnson entered the world, but Matthew Johnson left that hospital.”
Queer Journey
The memoir is designed partially as a journey by the author toward arriving at a fuller understanding of his sexuality. It is not quite as simple as realizing that while other boys desire girls and don’t play with dolls, you desire boys and do play with dolls:
“So, my journey looks something like this: As a young boy I was effeminate and figured that I was supposed to be a girl—because I liked girl things and had girl mannerisms. That was all I could process from the age of five until I was about twelve, because I didn’t have a full vocabulary for gender and sexuality. My daydreams didn’t feature me as a boy, but as a girl named Dominique—after Dominique Dawes, the gymnast I wished I were.”
So Much for That Myth
A persistent myth about gay culture held by rigidly heterosexual members of society is that it is, by nature and definition, excessively promiscuous. Perhaps there is some promiscuity among older homosexuals, but if so then the reality explodes another myth: that experienced homosexuals prey upon innocent kids. According to the author, the iconic image of most gay teens is one that is remarkably less experienced than many Catholic school cheerleaders:
“Queer folks often live a second adolescence throughout much of their adult lives because of this deprivation. I didn’t explore sexuality during my teen years. I didn’t have openly gay friends or mentors growing up. I didn’t have the opportunity to date boys or have a boyfriend. I had to figure a lot of this…on my own. So the mistakes people make and the lessons they learn by exploring in their teens, I was just starting to learn as I transitioned into adulthood.”
