It's hinting at sunshine here in the busy streets of New York. People are nodding, even waving at each other in the street. Strangers are asking me personal questions on the train.

This week a man I had never met before asked me if my grandmother knows that I'm gay. I had no idea what to say. I told him that I think she knows, but that I'm not really sure. I have never actually told her that this is how I identify sexually. She has met my partner and is immensely pleased with the fact that I have round girlfriend. I don't know if she knows the details of our relationship. I will tell you the story and you can make up your own mind.

My grandmother is ninety years old, deaf and loves me more than cooked food. People have always talked about me (you live in Jamaica and you have a big mouth, people will talk about you). Grandma has never listened to them. Then this busybody cousin on my mother's side took it upon herself to tell Grandma that I am a lesbian.

I hear it was quite the fiasco.

Cousin X could not find any familiar words to define the phenomenon, so she had to act it out for Grandma. When that failed, she turned back to mouthing it. The poor old lady still couldn't get it. My other cousin told me that Cousin X shouted the word lesbian so loudly the neighbors quieted down to hear what was going on. She could not use any of the dirty words, so she finally just said that she had heard I was with women all the time. That no one could remember ever seeing me with a man.

Grandma's face broke out into a grin of understanding. She always does that when she thinks she has finally got what you have been shouting and gesturing at her for the last fifteen minutes or so. She clapped her hands and nodded and explained what she had understood.

"Yes, man. You mean to say she don't have a boyfrien'? Only girlfrien'. Woooi! That good man. You mean to say she won't get pregnant before she married then?" Grandma clapped her hands and kicked up her feet, "Woooi!"

That is Grandma! Always looking at the bright side. More people should do that. I feel if only we could, the back-biting and the "yabba yabba" that litter our lives would disappear. Then, it wouldn't seem so important to beat up a woman because her girlfriend is better looking than yours.

New York, Kingston or Montego Bay, it never changes. Bad-mind is bad-mind wherever you go. My cousin gained nothing from my granny knowing I am gay. She didn't get any richer. Her head didn't get any smaller (it is the family joke that she was born with a big head), her teeth not a shade whiter. It's a good thing I wasn't in the closet, otherwise she would have torn the door from its hinges and left me in full view without any clothes on my bottom.

My grandmother is right. "If you have a secret on a piece of paper, eat it! Is the only way you know it not going anywhere else."

Till next time,

Staceyann