The Citymeals Blog

Each June, Pride honors the historic struggle and progress of the gay community. Since the first New York City Pride parade in 1970, a year after the Stonewall Riots, Pride has become a worldwide celebration. But for the previous generation of LGBTQ people, being out and proud has not always been easy. That's especially true for our elders in the community, who came of age during a time that was much less accepting than today.  

When Louis was young, being gay just wasn’t talked about in his big Italian American family. That didn’t mean people didn’t notice, though. “I didn’t know I was gay,” says Louis, “but other people knew.” One of those people was Louis’s mother. When Louis finally worked up the courage to come out to his mother, she said that she’d known for years. “My mother embraced it,” he says.  

She just had one condition: He had one month to tell his father.  

Louis waited until the last possible day. He knew his father wouldn’t take the news well — and he was right. When Louis told him, his father demanded that he leave the house and never come back.  

Back then, it was common for LGBTQ children to be kicked out by their families. Even today, up to 40% of homeless youth identify as LGBTQ — an overwhelming statistic, as LGBTQ people only make up 10% of the general population.  

Louis was in his twenties, already out of the house and on his own. Though his father’s rejection didn’t leave him homeless, it still hurt. As the rest of his siblings gathered at his parents’ house for Sunday dinner that week, Louis stayed home. He didn’t know if he’d ever speak to his father again.  

Until two weeks later, when Louis’s phone rang. “You know, you’re disrespectful and I don’t like it,” came his father’s voice. He didn’t even say hello. “Your mother cooks all day long on Sunday. She makes sauce for six hours and you have missed two weeks in a row! You better be at this table by two o’clock! I don’t want to hear nothing!” Then, before Louis could get a word in, he hung up.

When Louis arrived at dinner, his father pulled him aside. He opened up to Louis, telling him about how his own mother hadn’t initially approved of his wife. He could recognize that this situation — different as it was — was similar in a way. He’d be a hypocrite to disown his own son for who he loved. “I can’t tell you what to do or how to live your life,” he told Louis. “I envisioned you differently, but I love you the same way.”  

To this day, Louis is grateful he answered that call. For many of his friends, that phone never rang.  

Older LGBTQ adults experience loneliness and isolation at higher rates than their straight counterparts. They’re more likely to be estranged from their families and four times less likely to have children who can help care for them as they age. They’re also twice as likely to be single and live alone. That — combined with decades of compounding legal and social discrimination — can result in poorer health, both mentally and physically.

For many, the prospect of entering a long-term care facility is grim. No one wants to live among people who may not accept you or face discrimination from the staff. Over a third of older LGBTQ people report that their primary health provider does not know about their sexual orientation for fear of judgement or receiving inferior care.  

For those who lived through the AIDS crisis, it’s often hard to shake the stigma that once came with being HIV positive. While Billy had no problem coming out to his family, he still kept his status a secret for years. “No one in my immediate family knew that I was HIV positive,” he says. “I kept that to myself.”  

New York City has one of the largest populations of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender or queer in the country. Nearly one-third of them are over the age of 50. It’s a community that faces unique challenges but does so with incredible resilience and joy. And while they might not be able to leave their apartments and join in the parade, we need to keep them in mind — not just during Pride. Every day of the year, Citymeals wants to ensure they can age with dignity, in the neighborhoods and communities that they call home.