I Am What I Am John Barrowman (books that read to you txt) 📖

producers joined us with some notes for me about my performance.

‘John,’ he said, after he’d checked off a couple of other points, ‘we wondered if you really wanted to reveal that you’re gay?’

Whoa. Clare’s eyes widened and, when she saw my expression, she shifted away a little to give me a wider berth. I stared at the producer for a very long, dark minute. Did he think that maybe I should have saved this detail for dinner conversation, in case, after the pudding, I was suddenly caught humping the waiter?

‘I really hope I didn’t hear that coming out of your mouth,’ I stated, ‘because I’m not going back into the closet for anyone.’

The incident was even more offensive because they sent a gay producer to discuss this with me, as if somehow this would ease the blow. I could tell he was terribly embarrassed. He should have been.

‘We think it might change how people feel about you,’ he continued.

‘For Christ’s sake!’ I yelled. ‘You’ve hired me to be a professional, not to have sex! Being a gay man has nothing to do with my abilities on this show.’ I was even more furious because, as I’ve stated, one of my explicit missions as an entertainer is to work to create a world where no one will ever make a statement like that to anyone who’s gay.

‘Who told you to say this?’

He tried to back down, to soften the statement somehow, especially when he realized I was getting angrier. I also think he could see that Clare, all 5’3” of her, was rising up on her flip-flops preparing for an attack. She was hissing and spitting in the corner.20

‘I’m not changing who I am for you or anyone else,’ I seethed, livid now. ‘I find it highly offensive that you as a gay man have said this to me. I don’t care who told you to say it. You should have stood up to whoever put you up to this. Grow some balls, man.’

Later, after I’d calmed down and Clare had been contained, the producers apologized profusely21 and we all moved on from this incident. I hope that, in standing up for myself in this way – on this particular occasion, and all the many other times I’ve done so – I’ve also stood up for those who don’t quite have the voice, or the confidence, that I do. As my parents taught me, speak up for yourself (especially if you have something to say) and speak up for others (especially if they can’t).

When my parents and I sat at their kitchen table in Illinois many years ago, and I told them I was gay, they embraced me immediately – but that does not mean it was easy for them, or that it’s easy for other parents, either. Families need time to adjust and come to terms with what they are being told. For my parents – and, keep in mind, this was almost twenty years ago now – their readjustment had a lot to do with their fears about AIDS and HIV.

That said, nothing angers me more than when I hear about parents who have abandoned or disowned their children because they’re gay. No matter how hard a parent may try, he or she is not going to change that child’s fundamental biological make-up. Instead of making a son or a daughter’s life more miserable, step up to the parenting plate, help them understand who they are, and support them in living happy, productive lives – because, in the words of Jerry Herman, ‘life’s not worth a damn, till you can say … I am what I am’.

TABLE TALK #10

‘Goodnight and Thank You’

Help with the dishes? Don’t be silly. You were my guests. Where’s Scottie? He loves to do dishes.

Before you brave your journey home, I’d like to thank you for joining me, for allowing me to share my stories with you, and for supporting all that I’ve done these last few years.

A couple of months ago, I was explaining to my nephew, Turner – who is now nineteen and in his second year at university – about these ‘table talks’, these family vignettes, and how I wanted them to capture the tone and the content of the kinds of conversations the Barrowmans often have when we gather for family dinners or parties.

‘So you’ve basically talked about farting, shite and sex.’1

And, Turner, your point is?

For the most part, I hope I’ve covered more than those three significant subjects.2 Before I call you a taxi,3 are there any questions remaining that I haven’t covered in my table talks? There are? Okay. Fire away.

‘Is there some part of your body you do not like, and if so, would you consider plastic surgery?’

I’m comfortable with all my bits and bobs. Oh, maybe I’d like my love handles4 to be smaller, but when I’m in a West End show, my days are more flexible and I’m confident that while I’m in La Cage, I’ll have time to get to the gym in the mornings. I’ll take care of them that way. But I have nothing against plastic surgery, especially if it makes a person feel more confident about his or her body, and boosts their self-esteem.

‘To whom would you give your last Rolo?’

First of all, my regular sweetie of choice isn’t usually a Rolo, but if it were, I’d have to give it to my Jack Russell terrier, Captain Jack. Jack has to take a pill every night, and I discovered from his vet that a Rolo is the one chocolate treat you can give to most dogs. So I bought a carton of Rolos at Costco, and each evening I stick his pill deep inside the caramel.

‘If time travel really did exist, where would you go and why?’

Hmm. I’d like to be very noble and say I’d travel back to some terrible epidemic or disaster,5 taking a vaccination or medical supplies with me, but that would have to be my second trip.