Who is the most difficult person on your list to shop for? Your spouse, your kids, maybe it’s your best friend, in the entire world, who knows more about you than literally everyone in the world, and they are about to be the Mayor of the City of West Hollywood? No, just me? Well, let me tell you how we got here. We’ve pinned back a few memories, my core being a child of maybe 8 or 9 at the fireworks for Independence Day with my family. A small mischievous-looking boy ran onto our blanket and said “Shhh don’t tell her where I am”. While being in a small town where everyone knew my parents, I recognized the lady who called out “John Erickson where are you?” my dad replied, “He’s over here Gladys.” I remember this because Glady was a beautiful soul and our first connection of what would be a beautiful friendship. She was a pillar in the community who showed female strength, having been in the Army herself, and never being afraid to speak her mind. Believe it or not, I was a very shy child unless you were very close to me. She was a dream of a woman to become. To be comfortable and strong and to speak so freely. I have many strong and independent women in my life who led me to the path of being outspoken, fighting for the rights of those less fortunate, women I am today.
Jump ahead a few years to Middle School. it was my 8th-grade year and in true Katie form, I was so excited for the spring musical. I grew up watching my Uncle in every play and musical I can think of, including today in community theatre. Everything in my family has music in it. Music moves us, to say the least. The year before, our new director for musicals and choir, had picked You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown. My last year in middle school would be a musical to remember. That year we did The Princess and the Pea. It stands out to me that I don’t know that was the actual name, but that was the story. A bond had been made through music and choir. Our time was cut short as I left for high school and he had 2 years left of Middle school. It was okay though, I knew he had Ashley, Sarah, and Abril to keep him in all the trouble they could handle. our friendship picked right back up my junior year of high school and while not in musicals any longer, still singing our lives away, jazz hands and all. Why was high school pivotal in our friendship? Let me explain a bit about growing up under a microscope in a small town.
But let me tell you what Lifetime doesn’t tell you about small towns. Some use the anxiety and pressure of having a family well-known in a town like Champs. Maybe that path and end goal that is already determined for them. Some people can be content with already laid plans. Then there are others; we feel like we are trapped in a life we don’t belong in because every time we try to be ourselves, we are shot down, ridiculed, or shamed. There is an expectation that if it is different, it will bring shame or ridicule to the whole name. Sometimes an expectation has already been set and not in a great way. You go to class and they read your last name and say “Great, which one’s child are you?” I had teachers who already expected trouble from me because of how my uncles had acted 25+ years before I had even stepped foot in their door. I have always struggled with math and remember my 6th-grade math teacher, Mr. Hilster (I don’t think that is how it was spelled but I honestly don’t remember) was the first teacher to use that phrase and also apologize for being wrong. See, some of my uncles were rebellious, instigators, who I am surprised my grandma didn’t have white hair sooner because of. In high school, a teacher wrote that their craziest student memory was a student who lit a cigarette in class and then another in the principal’s office. My uncle remembering the teacher clarified he did not light a cigarette in the principal’s office, it was a cigar. My dad was supposedly the quiet one. My math teacher remembered him and said my older brother and I really proved him wrong about our name. This trend of having to prove my last name wrong would continue for 7 more years until I graduated high school and couldn’t wait to get away from a town where it was exhausting to have to prove I was not going to cause trouble everywhere I went. Learning at home to be proud of my family because they are the only ones I will ever be able to depend on. Being encouraged to be silly, dramatic, and loving life, but then going to activities or school and being told I’m too dramatic, I’m too loud, and those things just lead to trouble. I should know that by what I see at home, “Do you want to grow up and end up like…” you don’t need to know all the things this wonderful lady went on to say. But that is my story and I can tell you about mine but I can’t tell you John’s. That is his to share. I can tell you joint memories though that will make you understand the power of determination.
There is an F word that I absolutely HATE. It does NOT rhyme with Duck but has 6 letters and sometimes 3. If you have used that word in my presence in the last 25 years, you will know that it is one word I will not be quiet for. Be a bigoted asshole with a low vocabulary but I will make sure that when we are done with our conversation, you will never use it again (at least not in my presence) or you will remember me every time you say it and I will live rent free in your memory dancing on you for saying it. In the year 2000, if you wanted to really hurt someone, you went for the jugular with that phrase. Being the daughter of one of the very few openly gay people in our town and a boy of only 14/15 who was not sure why he didn’t feel like he belonged in a room full of beautiful ladies, literally blushing all around him. For the record once and for all, I have not once in my life ever been one of those fan girls of Johns. In my heart, I always knew. We were the queens of quick snapbacks but my fighting days were usually because someone would go for his jugular or mine by way of my dad. We later would just say “That’s how we knew we won the fight and they knew they were wrong”. When you have to resort to ending a sentence with “well at least my dad/I’m not an F..”. Later my favorite comeback would be “Ya, and you are just sad because if you were, they still wouldn’t want to date you!”.
You start to tone down your wardrobe, you don’t want to stand out too much because it’s exhausting to be ready with a comeback because you have to have “thick skin”. Well, let’s be fair, thick skin is really just layers of scar tissue below the surface. Why does someone have to have so much scar tissue to survive in the world? And who gets to decide how much scar tissue you need? If being teased for being different thickens your skin, what do people who only live on the straight and narrow use to thicken their skin? Here’s an idea. How about we not assume or judge those for who they like and not make a comment every time you are in the lunch room about the possible gay boy eating a banana. Sometimes it’s just a banana. How about when a boy wants to join the dance team and has better high kicks than some of the most professionally trained female counterparts, we cheer and encourage him because maybe someday they can be the lead in The Nutcracker on Broadway or a lead character at Disney. We want to go see those experiences with those characters but just as long as they do not come from our community, I guess. Maybe they have a great sense of style and sparkle and will go on to change the industry for hair, spreading their cheer and making others feel fabulous. Why is that wrong? I never understood why it was okay to make those jokes when inside, there is a female basketball player who would love to have the courage to ask out another female but that would make THEM possibly the first “official” gay person in school. They have witnessed what their own friends have said and done to those suspected in school, what would they do to them.
I wanted to be Casey Kasem when I grew up. I wanted to be on the radio making people happy and feeling the power of lyrics and beat. “Do you know how many people want that job…you could stay here where the cost of living is less…work your way up through a job just because it will pay well…You don’t have to like it, you just have to pay your bills”. “People from Ripon don’t go on to do those things. You have to know someone so why put yourself through the struggle to just come home because you failed. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing.” that is what a teacher told me once when I said I wanted to be in Radio.
It’s easy to miss the sounds of the encouragement that is there. It is hard to be the encouragement when you are struggling to be brave yourself. The overwhelming sounds of expectations that are limiting and dream-crushing can be loud in small towns. “The Trevor Project, which works to end suicide among lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender youth surveyed more than 28,000 LGBT people aged 13 to 24. 41 percent of them said they had seriously considered suicide in the previous twelve months. 56 percent said that in the past year, they wanted mental health care but couldn’t get it.” Yang, John. PBS NewsHour, 7 May 2023, https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/41-of-surveyed-lgbtq-youth-considered-suicide-in-the-past-year.
Does that number stun you? Can you imagine what those numbers must have been like in the early 2000’s, 1970’s, and even earlier? There can still be boundaries for safety and learning how to be aware and respectful in a community, but there is a strong need to have expectations that wherever your child wants to grow and explore they are strong and brave enough to do it. When we limit children’s ability to grow and be who they truly want to be when they are older, we also diminish a bit of that hope and light in their souls.
This was supposed to be my toast to my friend but alas I could not even start talking without crying, ugly tears, so here it is to you my friend.
John was always one of those people you could never figure out. He was smart, he was determined, and he was wacky and crazy in all the ways that made life exciting. There was always this ball of energy and spice to learn everything he could about anything he could. I swear he fed himself knowledge more than food some days. Some people would have called it adhd, but I could tell the anxiety of holding in what he truly loved. You could see when it was just the 4 of us in our friend group the silly, spunky, flashy side. He loved fashion, style, and all things delectable, even back in little Ripon. He was peaceful. I can only say it best by the first time I took him to his first gay dance club. Back in those days, the internet was still new and there wasn’t advertising for it. To enter, we had to go through an alley entrance where a small corner of a back room was a full-on dance/nightclub experience. We were young, not even 21, I won’t say just how young though ;). Seeing him dance and be free, where no one would know us, and he didn’t have to worry about anyone knowing, he was John. He didn’t have the worry that Monday morning, he was going to be the joke of the weekend. We would take the 1 1/2 hour drive as often as we could, taking trusted friends who we thought could handle the culture shock, because let’s face it, we were not seeing that on the streets of Ripon…….anytime soon…..I have made several trips to West Hollywood to explore and enjoy everything that LA has to offer, and I cannot wait to continue doing it and know I will still never see it all. I have never seen John more relaxed and himself than those nights at The West, which would be symbolic of where his dream would take him; West Hollywood.
I’ve seen him grow in ways that many would never understand. I have seen him at his worst, cried through the sadness, and now I can say celebrating dreams that we honestly weren’t sure would come true. I have learned, to never doubt Dr. John M. Erickson. He will always prove you wrong because his passion for helping people feel seen, heard, and loved is so strong. He proved it when a disruptive citizen sat front and center of his nieces, nephews, and family and disrespectfully displayed their dislike for John. You cannot make everyone happy and it would have been easy to kick them out and not let them spoil the evening. He commanded the room, gave a warning, and let them speak for their 2:00 minutes. It was distasteful, it was unfortunate, but not everyone will love him, and that’s okay. He’s driven us all nuts at one time or another. But he still let them speak their mind on the biggest night of his life for public record because people need to be heard. This is John. When he puts his mind to it, it gets done. He used his ability to drown out the hate. He is focused, determined, responsible, and a blessing to call a friend.
So what do you get him, what do you get this person who has successfully achieved everything they have strived for and then some? To the man who has everything he wants and an itty bitty living space. Well, I gave him a hug, a sweet high-five, and my time. He knows what it took for me to make this trip happen and he is so respectful of my time and was always worried about if we are okay. For the record, Ashley and I can find all the fun without any help. Showing up for your friends, encouraging them to continue their goals, and helping them remember who they truly are and want to be is a priceless gift that you cannot just take back. Showing up every day and sharing a sense of community can go a long way to helping bring the number of children who do not feel safe to be themselves, go way down. The judgment you spread today or the peace you share today can be the difference between the step up needed or the fall in someone’s story. it’s easier than you think to be a step.
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