'A League of Their Own' gave me space to grieve for my younger, closeted self who didn't know if it was ever going to work out.
. When my algebra teacher nearly got fired because parents found out he had a boyfriend. When yet another friend in my strongly Christian town told me that gay people were going to hell. I believed them.
Like Carson, I knew how the world perceived queerness, yet all it took was one girl to unravel me. My Greta was also a tall high femme whose confidence was disarming. I still feel the heartbreak of being told,"We can't do this anymore." Because we knew two 15-year-old girls in the Bible Belt shouldn't enjoy kissing each other. But like Carson, I knew there was something scarier than getting caught — it was the fear of never feeling that way ever again.
However, just minutes after that moment in the episode, the police raid the underground bar and shatter the illusion of safety. I held my breath until Carson and Greta find a hiding place in the theater next door. They sit in the crowded show gulping down air with eyes wide as they process what just happened. Around them, the people in the theater clap and laugh at the show — ordinary people enjoying an uneventful night out.
My partner returned from walking our dog to find me sobbing on the couch in the comfort of our home. I was embarrassed by my distress. And fortunately, I've never experienced that level of homophobic discrimination. So why was this