Last May I flew home for Calabash, the first International Caribbean Writers Conference held on the island. Of course, Air Jamaica was the chosen airline.

It felt good to be on a flight with more than three brown faces. The Jamaican-ness was nice and loud. Higglers (informal commercial importers--ICIs) were shouting across two and three rows to each other, threats were tossed this way and that--Jamaicans were among Jamaicans and we were comfortable with the noise of familiarity.

I was just sitting there, grinning, taking in the Tiger Balm and the Obsession and the Hair Food hair oil. A tall rastaman beside me wanted to know why a good-looking woman like me was traveling by myself. I introduced him to the woman who was with me. He nodded at her and went right on checking me.

"So, you man not fraid me take you 'way from 'im?"

I wanted to tell him my woman was not at all worried. But I was with Jamaicans, so I couldn't say that.

As is wont to arise in the conversation of Jamaicans, the topic of homosexuality came up for discussion among the passengers. All the voices had the same opinion. Two full hours were spent publicly lamenting the presence of homosexuality in the world.

I seethed and the talk continued. The round table decided that gays are the cause of every single problem on the planet: war, hunger, rotten meat from McDonalds, and the shortage of faithful virginal childbearing women. "Faggotism" is an undercover evil that is "killing out" the population and poisoning the minds of the masses.

"Man wid tight-up pants and ooman inna jacket and tie! Everyting turn upsided down. Man deh wid man. Ooman deh wid ooman. This a de last days fi true!"

It frightened me to hear them describe what they would do to anybody who ever approached them "wid dat nastiness." They would beat, and burn and stab and chop off and cut open...

"Trust me, if I coulda kill a faggot and not get catch I woulda do it." These were the sentiments of the peace-loving sons of Haile Selassie.

I wish I could have taped the conversation. This kind of ignorance pushes gay and lesbian writers, engineers, dancers, teachers, and lawyers away from Jamaica every year. I meet them in all cities, New York, London, San Francisco, and Paris. We live everywhere else--anywhere is better than living with a population that would sooner kill than make space for us.

I wanted to tell that rastaman that I am a lesbian.

This is why we need this forum, to serve as a window into the lives of Jamaicans who identify as gay or lesbian. We are finally ready to come out. We are grateful to The Gleaner Extra for providing the opportunity. Jamaicans need to know that though we are away, we do exist. We still welcome any and all news of our island. We only wish there could be a way for us to be ourselves and still be safe at home.

Till next time,

Staceyann Chin