Memoirs — Shawn Mooney

During his undergraduate years at the U of S in the late 1980s Shawn Mooney emerged as one of Saskatchewan's most active and visible gay rights campaigners. He was involved in many organizations including Gays and Lesbians at the U of S and Perceptions newsmagazine and established and hosted Speaking Out, Saskatoon's first gay community radio program.

1) “The Love I Almost Missed”
2) “Fruitcake of the Year”

The Fruitcake of the Year
by Shawn Mooney

FRUITCAKE OF THE YEAR (Mooney presented this speech when he was recognized as Man of the Year at Saskatoon’s first GALA community awards in 1993. The speech was subsequently printed in Vol. 11 Issue 5 (July 28 1993) of Perceptions, the Gay & Lesbian Newsmagazine of the Prairies.

Dear Dave:

Guess what? I’m the Fruitcake of the Year! I know you’ll be pleased. It’s been a long road for me, from those high school days in the locker room, where you’d spit in my face almost every day, shove me against the wall, kick me when I was changing. “Fuckin’ fruitcake,” you’d say to me, Dave, as you roughed me up almost every day.

I think about you often. Dave, and I really hate what you did to me back then. When I tell my friends about you, I still feel proud that, in four years of school with you, not once did I ever speak to you, look you in the eye, or show any of the pain you caused me. I wouldn’t even wipe the spit off my face until after I was out of your sight. That pissed you off, didn’t it. Dave?

“Fuckin’ Fruitcake.” Well, Dave, you were right after all. I bet you were overjoyed to learn how right you were, when you and the whole town heard me phone in to confront Dr. Paul Cameron on the Roy Norris show that time. Paul Cameron, the infamous homophobe; he reminded me a lot of you, Dave. Said all us fruitcakes should be quarantined on an island, where we could infect each other till death do us part. Had someone explained what ‘quarantine’ meant, Dave, you probably would have agreed.

A few months later, I wonder if you heard me and Mom on the Roy Norris show that morning, talking about being gay, being the mother of a gay son. Wonder what you thought? Wonder if you knew that I knew you were listening…

Around that time, in the bar back home one night, you told my sister she’d better not let me be around her young son. She sure told you where to go, didn’t she?

Fruitcake.

I would not let you see me wipe the spit off my face.

Since I’ve accepted myself as a fruitcake, Dave, my life has changed in ways you couldn’t begin to understand. Those scary gym periods are locked in my memory, but I have a full, rich life now. I don’t hate myself as much now. I have incredible friendships; I’ve had some amazing lovers, too. I’m not scared of you anymore, Dave, and what’s more, I’m not scared of myself.

Do I still scare you, Dave?

Being involved in the lesbian and gay community has enriched my life, Dave. I’ve learned a lot from some great people.

Like Peter Millard, who lives life as a proud fruitcake; he doesn’t put up with people like you, Dave.

Like Sally Boyle and Erin Shoemaker, who taught me that women’s issues are inextricably linked with my struggle. Sally and Erin also taught me how self-love must be the basis and the end result of political action.

Dave, I would not look you in the face or in any way acknowledge the wounds you inflicted.

People like Neil Richards, whose gentle, firm support keeps so many of us going. Fruitcake.

The gay community has chosen to recognize me as “Man of the Year”, Dave, for my involvement over the years. Much as you wouldn’t understand it, Dave, this recognition affirms my very soul, that part of me you hurt so bad. Surrounded by friends and lovers, I have begun to wipe that spit off my face. I have begun to speak out about my pain, to speak from my pain.

And ever so slowly, Dave, that pain eases, crowded out by an abundance of love.

I’m realizing that it’s not enough to answer you back, Dave. We queer folk have a much richer agenda than just wiping your spit off our faces. We fruitcakes, we faggots and dykes are inventing ourselves, creating relationships, making connections. We are all shaping our lives.

I see the snarl on your face as I write this, Dave. And guess what? I am looking you right in the eye.


	Home Books Journals Manuscripts History Theses Bibliography Audio/Visual Links of Interest Contact Credits Search	Saskatchewan Resources for Sexual Diversity Memoirs — Shawn Mooney During his undergraduate years at the U of S in the late 1980s Shawn Mooney emerged as one of Saskatchewan's most active and visible gay rights campaigners. He was involved in many organizations including Gays and Lesbians at the U of S and Perceptions newsmagazine and established and hosted Speaking Out, Saskatoon's first gay community radio program. 1) “The Love I Almost Missed” 2) “Fruitcake of the Year” The Fruitcake of the Year by Shawn Mooney FRUITCAKE OF THE YEAR (Mooney presented this speech when he was recognized as Man of the Year at Saskatoon’s first GALA community awards in 1993. The speech was subsequently printed in Vol. 11 Issue 5 (July 28 1993) of Perceptions, the Gay & Lesbian Newsmagazine of the Prairies. Dear Dave: Guess what? I’m the Fruitcake of the Year! I know you’ll be pleased. It’s been a long road for me, from those high school days in the locker room, where you’d spit in my face almost every day, shove me against the wall, kick me when I was changing. “Fuckin’ fruitcake,” you’d say to me, Dave, as you roughed me up almost every day. I think about you often. Dave, and I really hate what you did to me back then. When I tell my friends about you, I still feel proud that, in four years of school with you, not once did I ever speak to you, look you in the eye, or show any of the pain you caused me. I wouldn’t even wipe the spit off my face until after I was out of your sight. That pissed you off, didn’t it. Dave? “Fuckin’ Fruitcake.” Well, Dave, you were right after all. I bet you were overjoyed to learn how right you were, when you and the whole town heard me phone in to confront Dr. Paul Cameron on the Roy Norris show that time. Paul Cameron, the infamous homophobe; he reminded me a lot of you, Dave. Said all us fruitcakes should be quarantined on an island, where we could infect each other till death do us part. Had someone explained what ‘quarantine’ meant, Dave, you probably would have agreed. A few months later, I wonder if you heard me and Mom on the Roy Norris show that morning, talking about being gay, being the mother of a gay son. Wonder what you thought? Wonder if you knew that I knew you were listening… Around that time, in the bar back home one night, you told my sister she’d better not let me be around her young son. She sure told you where to go, didn’t she? Fruitcake. I would not let you see me wipe the spit off my face. Since I’ve accepted myself as a fruitcake, Dave, my life has changed in ways you couldn’t begin to understand. Those scary gym periods are locked in my memory, but I have a full, rich life now. I don’t hate myself as much now. I have incredible friendships; I’ve had some amazing lovers, too. I’m not scared of you anymore, Dave, and what’s more, I’m not scared of myself. Do I still scare you, Dave? Being involved in the lesbian and gay community has enriched my life, Dave. I’ve learned a lot from some great people. Like Peter Millard, who lives life as a proud fruitcake; he doesn’t put up with people like you, Dave. Like Sally Boyle and Erin Shoemaker, who taught me that women’s issues are inextricably linked with my struggle. Sally and Erin also taught me how self-love must be the basis and the end result of political action. Dave, I would not look you in the face or in any way acknowledge the wounds you inflicted. People like Neil Richards, whose gentle, firm support keeps so many of us going. Fruitcake. The gay community has chosen to recognize me as “Man of the Year”, Dave, for my involvement over the years. Much as you wouldn’t understand it, Dave, this recognition affirms my very soul, that part of me you hurt so bad. Surrounded by friends and lovers, I have begun to wipe that spit off my face. I have begun to speak out about my pain, to speak from my pain. And ever so slowly, Dave, that pain eases, crowded out by an abundance of love. I’m realizing that it’s not enough to answer you back, Dave. We queer folk have a much richer agenda than just wiping your spit off our faces. We fruitcakes, we faggots and dykes are inventing ourselves, creating relationships, making connections. We are all shaping our lives. I see the snarl on your face as I write this, Dave. And guess what? I am looking you right in the eye.
		“ While she was as sharp as a tack, we did not think a ninety-year-old could possibly understand homosexuality.” ~ Shawn Mooney, The Love I Almost Missed